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papers4me · 4 years ago

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Fruits Basket, SE03, Ep1

I’m here! The final season continues from where se02 oddly left, right in the middle of a conversation! XD.

-Tohru’s crushed heart (scarf): Excellent symbolism!

Tohru, burdened with trying to lift the curse of teen & adult sohmas, is now also troubled by trying to help Arisa’s romantic life is sad for akito! Too much for compassionate selfless tohru. Unable to help, protect & erase the pain, tohru crumbles. Freezes. Her white scarf (heart) flies away, gets crushed by cars & becomes dirty. But here comes a boy ( who thinks himself a monster) picks it up, cleans & returns it back. He thinks nothing of his deed. nothing heroic abt saving a scarf, really. But do we need to be heroes to save others? kyo saves tohru by being kyo. Not the zodiac cat & not the menacing monster. Her heart is saved by him, shown much care & returned back. Mind you, the heart (scarf) is not brand new after the delima. It’s not very clean after being crushed, some marks remain, but these are marks of growth!!! you walk away after hardships carrying minor scars of victory. This scene solidify kyo’s role in tohru’s life as an equal companion. Not a heroic prince charming. It is the little things he does that shows who he is. kyo isn’t abt big soft words, he doesn't say the best things. he is a man of action. His care, love & compassion comes so very easily & naturally to him thro actions. This is what yuki meant by saying he’s jealous of kyo. Yuki over thinks his steps & doubt everything before he acts. Kyo acts spontaneously then doubts himself later. He saves the scarf (heart) then tells her directly to buy another one if she feels it’s not clean. He failed to see how this trivial action meant the world to tohru. Tohru smiles lively cuz her heart is back to her.

Why is the scarf scene so important? (aka furuba’s best usage of symbolism yet!)

It symbolizes tohru’s toxic flaw that she must overcome! It represents tohru’s tormented heart over other ppl’s pain with severe neglect to her own problems & issues. Arisa’s love life shouldn’t be tohru’s delima, nor Akito’s complex or Kureno’s or the damned curse. Tohru toxically chooses to bear other burdens’ until they crush her.

Hana can’t come to save tohru from pain each time tohru indulges in it. Tohru must realize her own flaw & grow up beyond this toxic type of kindness. Feel & help others, but don’t use them to escape your pain & don’t indulge in their own struggles & neglect yourself. There is a reason hana’s knowing of tohru’s pain is thro “magical” waves, to symbolize that this can’t become a norm, not real. You can’t depend on magic to grow. I love that!

The white scarf bearing smudges of the tires even after kyo washed it shows that kyo’s love & care can’t magically heal all tohru’s pain. It parallels kyo’s words from se01, ep,24 when he said tohru didn’t heal all his pain, but he feels better simply cuz she stayed by his side. Tohru now is feeling better cuz kyo chose was there for her. Love doesn’t magically heal you, kids! But it sure puts you on the path! Also, this once again adds more depth to the (tohru/kyo) equal give & take dynamics.

This scene deconstruct the image of Tohru represented as an angelic mother throughout 2 seasons. Instead, It paints her as a real flawed girl with much need for growth. Exactly, like how we have learned by now that kyo isn’t a horrible monster nor a prince charming saving the day, but a flawed boy with much need for growth. However, these two push each other forward in a subtle way through daily situations! Excellent writing!!

-Kureno. (aka. who tohru should never become):

The harmful kindness: Kureno is someone who hurts himself & hurt many others (akito, arisa, shigure, & consequently the rest of the zodiacs) by giving the harmful types of kindness to akito, by completely erasing his own needs, desires & living for the sake of someone who would be far better without him. Kureno is who tohru might have become if she selflessly continues fighting solely for the sohma’s sake & trying to break the curse while ignoring her own life. She’ll become as miserable as kureno & the zodiacs will become dependable on her.

The destructive pity: Kureno pities this tormented child (akito) & chooses to stay with her until her tears dry. This pity is destructive cuz it is done while he wishes to be miles away with Arisa & it encourages akito to stay as she is. Look, a child whose mom hates her deserves pity. But an adult woman needs to learn to build relationships based on mutual affection & respect. This talk of pity reminds me of kyo & kagura. Kagura pitied the cat zodiac. The relationship was doomed cuz kyo refuses pity. It doesn’t matter if her pity turned into love later. Kyo doesn’t want that from her or anyone. There is NO equality there. We know tohru came to love kyo for all the times he was there for her & all the times he pushed her to improve, to complain, to want things! she said so in se01, ep, 24. But we also know that young baby tohru pitied the cat when her mom told her the zodiacs story. what if kyo thinks tohru’s affection is pity???? that’s a big NO for him & for every person. I really want tohru to be as far from any kurno’s traits as possible!!!

-Akito, the pitiful woman:

Akito was born a girl, forced to be raised as a boy by her mother’s demands? where is the father?? she was hated by her mother. why? she also hates her mom. (hate your child & they’ll hated you). So, akito is doomed by her mom. Akito tries to prove that she’s loved by the zodiac “she specified the male zodiacs” interesting! we saw how she hates both Isuzu & kisa & doesn’t give a damn abt kagura. This woman, forced to pose as a man, actually desires to be treated as a woman. As for the other zodiacs:

No worries abt hatori leaving cuz he’s 24/7 attending to her health.

Ayame makes tea exclusively for her & hatori.

she thinks Ritsu is too timid to attempt leaving.

Hiro’s a baby, momiji is hated cuz she can’t break him.

Kyo is destined to be locked. but Why she cares abt the cat anyway?? She publicly hates him & feels disgusted by him.

She used to control yuki but can’t anymore.

she uses intimacy to bound those who “can” leave her the most: kurno! & shigure? she sleeps next to shigure in the valentine ep. hatori remarked: don’t let akito catch cold. We saw the sexually charged rage in se02, ep10. So, she isn’t faithful to kureno. They don’t have a relationship. She doesn’t even have a relationship with shigure, either. to her, sex is a tool to tie them both to her?

It is ironic that the person who said she despises woman & accuses Isuzu of seducing hatori is herself seducing others. Except, tragically, kureno isn’t with her for herself, but cuz he pities her. We saw her slapping & embracing him. Next scene; her bare shoulders & his unbuttoned shirt clearly implies they got intimate which is what akito does to feel secure in kureno not leaving her. Kureno is not even interested in her despite submitting to her advances, needs & orders. He does it out of pity. Truly the most tragic form of physical affection: sex for pity. wow... how tragically pitiful is the abusive ruler of the zodiacs who looms over them & demands respect & eternal bonds. How can she find someone who’ll love her for herself, if she doesn’t learn to show good sides of her? Yuki wasn’t loved for who he is in school, but for being the “prince”, he showed his real character & got himself true friends & soon a lover!!! Kyo, was feared & pitied for turning into a “monster”, but once he showed his kind & harmless self, he got himself true friends & a girl who loves him for his actual personality! Who will love akito for who she is if she only shows a spoiled child, horrible family head or a pitiful woman? What does shigure love in her? he doesn’t seem to pity her nor pamper her much, does he? perhaps we’ll know more abt the real akito later.

Side notes:

Akito’s mom reminded me of kyo’s dad. Abused children, who are hated by their parents, don’t let go of the hurt easily. they’ll always try to either get their approval, show them they were worthy of their love, or they’re NOTHING like their parents think they are. eg: Kyo’s biological father’s hate has destroyed kyo. Kyo have kazuma & tohru & he still wonder why they love him. It took kyo 17 years to actually promise to call kazuma "dad” one day in se01 finale. You need time to heal the wounds inflected by the ones who should love you the most. Being loved by others doesn’t magically heal you! You need to take few steps forward.

Isuzu is Ren’s clone! finally understanding why the severe hate from akito towards Isuzu. I’ll wait for more Ren/Akito content before analyzing their relationship.

Ren is so sexy. ngl, the scene of the zodiacs touching her belly after she just *conceived* akito is so creepy~ ew!

Hana picked up tohru first before kyo, cuz this show isn’t exclusive for romantic love as much as it isn’t exclusive for friendship. There is balance.

Tohru needs her own future, so does Arisa & hana! Learn to accept the limit of what you can do as a friend, tohru.. forever loving furuba for steering away from “friends stay together forever~yay” anime trope! Furuba is abt independent & individual adult life! building your own future! Epic writing!

Forever fascinated by how much the little small ordinary daily life things has really built kyo-tohru love! It feels so real & very uniquely built! Excellent writing!

Arisa is stuck with an adult man trapping himself in the most unnecessary love triangle. Kureno’s cage is self made, no curse. A very sheltered boy/man not living in the real world. Only two options for kureno if he continues this path: he’ll hurt akito, or akito will hurt him. We know the answer from the trailer, don’t we?

Arisa letting go of kuron is growth! Let go & live, girl!

There is a subtle theme of learning to let go in furuba~

Yuki is the biggest kyoru shipper!

Tohru intentionally hitting kyo with scarf’s pon-pon is my fave side of her! intentional flirting shows change from her little girl’s good girl attitude to her own type of a feisty woman! after all, she’s nearly 18!

The way the camera moved when kyo spotted the scarf was so good!

The director is obsessed with flying!! did he work on attack on titans? cuz the Ren-akito flying fight reminded me of Titan Eren strangling Titan Annie in AOT se01 finale! but chibi version! XD. I’m sorry for akito’s pain, but I was distracted by laughing! XD

look, if you plan to dramatize a situation, know your budget & your skills. Obviously, the director knew the scene is badly done, hence, the wide far away, dim lit shot to hide as much as it can. Couldn’t he do without it? let akito strangle her to the ground without flying!

oh well~these over-the-top shots are now a furuba trade mark~ just praying they stick with one weird shot per season.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #Tohru Honda #Akito Sohma #se03 #final season #kureno sohma #shigure sohma #kyo sohma

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atlantisaurum · 3 years ago

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Lifetime

At 11pm he was digging up a hole in his own garden. Raindrops shattered on his face, mixing themselves under the tears, not to be distinguished here in the rain some February night in a year preceded by restless hours of isolation and pens in his hands, writing unspoken eulogies whenever he could not sleep. It´s hard to keep track of the order of all the deaths that happened throughout the last decade, all of his life.

Roots as thick as his forearms tormented his way down to a depth to lower the casket in, which he built, hoping it would make him feel less helpless, now, that another soul passed his still young being by. A flash light and an umbrella, held by his only remaining relative, kept him company next to a raging emptiness subsided by inner cries and screams. He had to keep digging otherwise it would be to late to do something, to help, to have a positive part in this inconvenient event in a row of even more inconvenient months.

Hope, first a stranger then a part of his family for 16 years, gone. Wryly and bitterly, he thought: “At least he doesn´t have to endure this anymore.” She cried night and day, crying for someone to give her love and company. His father gave it to her. Is there a place for humans and dogs next to the gods somewhere, anywhere that is not this place? Eternal solace and purity after one injection of sleep? Maybe they will find themselves together at a heavenly equivalent of north shore beaches of Germany in Spring and Autumn. “It doesn´t matter.” Nothing could sooth this loss, this last connection to his father. Sure, there still was the house, three times as old as him, built by his father blood, sweat and tears. It´s just not the same – empty, lonelier even more after his grandmother´s passing. Occupying her old room simply made him colder and his heart more cynical.

Hours passed before he was done digging this testimony of a lost cause, a withered away duo of a family. They lowered the baby-sized casket into the hole. He was silent, only muttering abbreviations of sentences and words as answers in the general direction of his blabbering mother. There are more than two ways to cope with situations like these. He and his mother lingered on opposite sites of the spectrum. One either turns into their parents or into the complete opposite. Both of his parents, marvellous in their own ways, imperfect as every other being as well. He feared to turn out like either of them. Where does one find the balance between obnoxiously loud and forever shut inside ones own head?

Fear and a promise urged his life forward for an unbearable amount of time. Stretched so thin he wasn´t even a person anymore. If one isn´t a person one will forget how to cry.

But he cried, at least he thought so or hoped so. Not crying meant it would kill him at some other point further in the future. He couldn´t bear it. When does it ever stop?

Continuously, every other week or month, he asked himself why he was the person he turned out to be. For these questions, bitter and melancholy answers are at hand but never satisfying enough to keep the doubts and hate from lurking back into his mind. Why couldn´t he accept a shoulder to cry on? It is simply easier to be quite than to explain anything at all. Every book, every last poem, piece of prose has its origins and its far fetched interpretations and general analysis but nothing that is not an exact copy of the authors mind can never fully explain the words felt and written.

Nothing ever will have enough matter to fill a black hole. It will suck in everything surrounding it, turning it into lifeless, non-existent, meaningless and fleeting occurrences. “It doesn´t matter”, he thought again. “My body is real, so is this soon to be covered in unwanted weeds and white wild flowers now filled up hole.” This existentialistic thought scratched at the walls of his head, ripping the wallpaper off and leaving behind but a white space once touched but now an unlovable place for non-permanent acquaintances of his life. Nothing stays, nothing lasts. `This too shall pass.´ But it never really seems that way in these awfully long lasting moments. Tomorrow he would still be existing and had to live the life given to him unasked for and unwillingly lead from crisis to crisis.

Soon, he knows, he would forget the tone of his dogs voice and the vibrancy of her fur in winter. So many memories repressed so he was able to breathe.

At 3am he opened the door of his car, leather gloves on his hands, but he knew his knuckles turned white by the way his hands started cramping after uncountable minutes of just holding onto the steering wheel, not even driving, just sitting, trying not to break down into even smaller pieces. His life was spread all over the globe, one chipped piece at a time. America, France, Spain, Italy, Germany - an endless list of places covered in blood only he could see. There was nowhere to go.

He turned the key around and starting driving. No specific aim, goal or place to end up at – driving simply so he wouldn´t be anywhere any time at all. Constantly moving in order not to linger.

A lightning struck above his head, enlightening the hardened lines of his face. He knew the roads, where they would eventually lead him. Every path has its end, every turn he made unconsciously brought him closer to where his heart needed to be in that very moment, after all of this morbid digging and the cries of his mother still ringing in his ears. A trip he had taken one too many times that led him to the grim realisation that he made a crucial mistake at being a person befriending another one. Taking anything, anyone in particular, for granted. Nothing ever is granted. Everything is temporary, time is fleeting and the air passing every single being by is only a recollection of what had been, could have been and something of what may never be.

The car seemed to shiver as he turned left and drove up the agricultural road, opening the scenery up to see a horizon waiting for the sun to touch its colours and tint it with its warm beams. He turned off the car. The breath he took did not help his lungs to steady themselves. Heavy was the weight sitting on his chest as the tried to open the door and begged his legs and feet to move him out of the car, onto the mushy and dirty field, awaiting the light of the new day to come.

His feet sunk into the dirt, covering his shoes in mud and torn off grass. “It doesn´t matter”, he thought again. “No one ever profited off of Nihilism.” He moved to the front of the car and leaned again the it, feet still on the ground. He needed to feel the ground beneath him, needed to feel the connection to something that wouldn´t die on him. “We´re killing this planet.” But the earth always had the remarkable ability to recover from any form of human interference. Chernobyl, only 30 years later nature recovered, animals repopulated themselves and it is now a fully functional and living place for nature and its inhabitants. But who is a boy compared to the wonders of the earth? Everyone can only ever endure and hope the pain eases. What is the last straw?

Miserable to his core, sinking deeper into the mud, the sun started to rise. Fog appeared at the horizon behind the trees in the forest that was before him. He couldn´t even count anymore how many girls he had taken to this place. He didn´t even know why he had taken them in the first place. To impress, to share, to show sparks of depth that he usually would not let anyone see? He was fooling himself. He took them them just so didn´t feel as lonely as he did now seeing this astonishing view all by himself, wondering why no one stayed long enough to see the sun set again with him. He could never to honest with himself. Lies followed lies followed lies followed by a dead end. So many things had ended when he had tried to fix them. “You cannot keep lying to everyone just because it seems like it is more convenient for you. If you keep lying, you´ll get lost in your lies and might never find your way back to the truth and to those who are sincere”, she had said to him once. “I´m sick of being treated like a secret. Stand for what you do, whom you´re with and why.” How was he supposed to tell the truth if he did not even knew it himself?

Truth is simple once one acknowledges that anything that differs from its pure form will ultimately lead one into a false perception of reality. Reality, just as time, is relative. Factual reality and emotional reality are two completely different things. “I cannot stay here”, he muttered, got back into his car and took off.

#z #mine #short story #m #death #tw

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inforapound · 5 years ago

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With Our Eyes Shut - Epilogue

A/N - Hey friends, had a couple of requests on wattpad for a final chapter of this. Thought I would post it here too. Hope everyone is well. Ch.5 here.

Pairing - Sigefrid and Genevieve

Warnings - Sigefrid’s sweet love making:)

A month had passed since that horrid night.

Returning to Beamfleot the following day, everything had changed; all sense of master and slave had evaporated. Gone was the unfamiliarity and formality between them, instead, there was some formless bond that kept them tied. If Sigefrid was within the city walls, they were together, often seated side by side and if not, never apart for long. All meals were shared in the dining room in front of his men; men who would no longer dare cast her a second glance. She was his lady now and Erik had made certain that every person knew the price Haesten had paid.

At the order of Sigefrid, a slave had collected Genevieve's few things and moved her over into his chamber along with her kitten, back from the woman who had been watching it. Naturally, her duties, other than the ones she insisted on keeping, had been relieved and they shared his room as well as his bed every night since that dreadful trip.

And still..... no words had been spoken about what had grown between them. Neither of them had ever mentioned Haesten or the feelings they displayed that night back in the tent, after horns and horns of ale. No physical desires had been shared or acted upon and for the second time since meeting, he knew he had drawn an invisible line that he felt he could not cross. Within him, barely under the surface, was a ferocious need to protect her. She, again, was his wounded doe and he would not push his urges upon her. The thought of her conceding simply because of her reliance and his position of power made him feel ill. Never again, would she be put in that place.

And still.... he fucking ached for her. Longed for her. Waited each day for night to come, impatient for them to retreat to his chamber. He craved those candle-lit evenings, those moments with her alone in bed, lying side by side under the covers.

Regardless of how they fell asleep, they would wake in a tangle of arms and legs wrapped around the other like it had always been and always would be. The spoiled cat, that he thought should be in the barn, was never far away.

Yet as a man, a Dane warrior, it, them, the whole thing was agonizing, continuously confronting and always a challenge of his will. His attachment to her was palatable and many mornings he woke wondering if he should allow it to continue or, instead, end the torment and set her free.

Days were spent watching her, asking himself if he had the strength or even the kindness to risk letting her go. There was no question that she had a fondness for him, but he wondered if it was enough for her to stay with her former captor in a land that had taken so much.

And still.... he loved being with her. Loved everything about her. Listening to her hum while she sewed, watching her braid her long dark hair for bed, how she would rarely fill her own plate and instead take food from his. Gods, she was lovely, pure-hearted and kind and never shaken by his gruffness.

As a man usually led by impulse, the path to clarity was heart-rending but he had made the decision to speak with her and no longer stay paralyzed.

So....there he stood, in the late day sun with no armour and no weapons, wearing just a brown tunic and pants, his arm bear with his blade left behind on the table in their room.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder, squinting from the low afternoon sun. She was beautiful standing among the apple trees, with her wavy hair hanging free except for the fine braids on either side of her face. Her eyes were lightly lined with kohl and her dress was nearly sheer, illuminated by the light showing the curve of her brilliant ass. Fuck, he felt both excited and scared.

"Can I offer you an apple?" she smiled turning to face him, holding up one of the tart green ones he preferred. The basket at her feet looked heavy, nearly full to the top and he wondered if she had been expecting him.

As he approached, she lowered to sit, patting the ground beside her.

Taking the apple from her out-stretched hand, he settled into the grass feeling like a peasant on the ground but he did not share his grumbles. Chomping an enormous bite, he shook his head with amusement as she plucked it back from his hand and bit a piece from what was left.

"Why, woman, when you have a basket full of apples, do you eat mine?"

Scrunching her nose, she shrugged. "I like to eat your food."

"I have noticed."

"It is funny," she smiled and squinted one eye, her shyness not entirely outgrown.

"What is?" he grinned, nodding for her to answer.

Looking down, she pulled a long blade of grass from the ground, rolling it back and forth between her thumb and finger, the seed pods spinning free. "It is sweet to see a big black wolf share his food." She glanced up. "I like it."

"I. Like. You." he articulated in his deep Danish accent, hucking the apple behind him and leaning forward to grab her.

Embracing her around the waist, he pulled her toward him until she sat between his legs, her giggles bolstering his confidence.

"I have never said these words so I am going to say them now," his face grew serious and he watched her, again, lower her eyes, her expression also settling. "You are a free woman, Genevieve. Not my slave."

Dropping the grass, she reached up, still avoiding his gaze, and began fiddling with the cuff of his shirt that she had re-hemmed.

Clearing her throat, she glanced at him but only for a moment. "I gathered that when you had a new slave brought in."

"I see that girl has braided your hair and lined your eyes," he smiled, his eyes flitting over her profile, his dick flexing in his pants, reminding him it was there.

"Do you like it?" she whispered, clearly trying not to smile.

"Do I like it?" his smile widened, and his dark brows shot high. "Yes," he replied and then grunted like a boar making her laugh. "Genevieve," he leaned in closer, again becoming serious, "It is your choice whether to stay. If you choose not to, I will personally take you back to Frankia. But....the decision is yours."

Saying nothing, she looked at him, her thoughts crinkling the skin of her forehead.

"What?" he nudged her, squeezing her in his arms. "Say something."

"I would like to see Frankia again in my life but there is nothing there for me."

"Will you stay with me then?" The second he asked the question, he wondered why he had risked it.

Shifting, she pulled out of his arms and his heart sank but she quickly turned toward him, settling back on her knees to look at him. There was no smile on her face, but her eyes were warm and bright giving him hope that she was not thinking up the words to reject him. Shifting closer, she placed her hands over his face and he instinctively jerked his head back.

"What are you doing?"

"Hush," she quieted him, "Shut your eyes."

"No," he pulled back again, chuckling.

"Sigefrid," she pleaded gently and his name in her sweet accent nearly made his chest break wide. "Shut your eyes," she whispered, placing her hands back onto his face.

"This is stupid," he grumbled unable to stop the return of his shit-eating grin.

As foolish as it was, he closed his eyes, nearly flinching when he felt the softest graze of her lips against his skin, her hair tickling his face, as her mouth pressed to his ear.

"Sigefrid," she whispered again, "I want to stay with you."

"I want to fucking marry you," he rushed out making her laugh again.

"Let us start with a kiss then," she said in her melodic voice as she lowered her hands.

Waiting with his eyes still closed, he was grateful the next sensation was her beautiful lips pressing against his. The kiss was like her, gentle and sweet, and everything she had made him realize he wanted for himself.

"I need you," he said, opening his eyes, his heart and head drinking in her closeness.

"I know," she replied resting her hands onto his shoulder and inching closer toward him. Bringing her lips back to his face, she kissed his cheek, leaning again toward his ear. "I can see it when you look at me."

Pulling back, he opened his mouth to speak but before he could, she kissed him again and then again, her beautiful mouth inviting him deeper. Wrapping his arms around her, he groaned, pulling her closer until she was seated in his lap. The more he tasted, the more he knew he could never be without her.

Breaking the kiss, she looked at him, "Should we return to the room?"

"No. Let us stay here, under the sun, where the Gods can see us."

Squeezing her to him, he leaned them back until they lay flat on the warm ground. Adjusting, she turned so she was looking into his eyes and he reached over and smoothed the hair away from the edge of her face. Wrapping his fingers behind the nape of her neck, he kissed her again, her mouth so soothing and welcoming with the rolling of their tongues, it made it hard for him to keep a slow pace. Seeing her chest begin to rise and fall, he reached down and began to unlace the ties at her bust, her heavy bosoms straining against the fabric, begging to be freed.

Distracting him from the work of her laces, she sighed against his lips and it felt like a strike of heat shooting to his groin. Quickly he lifted her leg over his hip, pulling their cores closer, and dipped his palm under the fabric of her dress, skimming up the backs of her gorgeous, thick thighs.

He had thought of what this moment might be like a thousand times and yet he was still unprepared for how it pulled the air from his lungs; for how being with her made him feel like a man.

Continuing to run his hand higher, he made contact with her bare bottom, at last, touching the part of her he had never been able to drag his eyes away from. It was smooth and round and squeezing it created the most desirable result, her whimpering and rocking her hips against him. Fuck he thought, as his dick bagged to be unleashed but he could not rush; this was the start of the rest of his life. Valhalla would have to wait.

It was impossible to stop his hands from roaming, they tingled with the need to touch her, to explore every crease and part. Slipping down between her thighs, he felt her sex, his fingers brushing the hair of her mound, so soft it felt like the down of a thistle.

Enough was enough, he had to see her. All of her. Abruptly, he pulled away and pushed himself up to sit, the loss of contact, making her eyes shoot open.

Chuckling, he reached behind his head and pulled the tunic off his shoulders before undoing the top of his pants. Springing forward, his cock was standing alert, ready for her warmth.

Lowering her eyes to his open pants, she pressed her lips together stifling a smile, her dark eyes sparkled and the natural pink of her cheeks deepened to the colour of a rose. By the Gods, he was going to cherish her.

Sitting up, she shuffled her dress out from under her, pulling it up over her head and throwing it onto the ground. Smoothing down her mussed hair, she glanced away as her shyness crept back in. Her voluptuous form was now bare and breathtaking and in every way felt like a gift.

"Lie down woman. I want to look at you."

Lowering herself back to the ground, she moved awkwardly, lifting her arms over her head and using one to cover her eyes.

"Stop that. Look at me," he insisted and she lowered her hands to the grass.

Kicking off his boots, he ripped the front of his breeches down, quickly undressing completely. Crouching over her, he opened her legs and knelt between, noticing how she fought the need to glance away.

"You never need to hide from me. Never me, Genevieve. Never."

Biting her bottom lip, she said nothing but nodded. The small gesture and slight simper, prodding on his arousal.

Raking his eyes down her body, he stared at her large pillowy breasts, so full, they fell apart resting to either side. The plushness of her skin, her round hips, the rolls of her tummy that moved each time he shifted her made him feel, again, like that hungry black wolf and at that angle, he could see the underside of her beautifully round cheeks.

The Gods were smiling down at him, they must be, he thought and he would repay them by worshiping every part of her. Exhaling, his cock twitched as he replayed her whispered words in her songful voice telling him that she wanted to stay. And looking at her perfectly plump body then only made his erection strain and his balls feel tight, knowing with complete certainty, that she was designed by the Gods to produce life; life they would create together. Exhaling again, he nearly grunted thinking how badly he wanted to fill her with his seed.

Crawling forward, he hovered above and pressed his lips to hers again, pouring his thoughts into her mouth.

Straightening back onto his knees, he shifted her legs further apart, resting her spread thighs over his. Stroking his hardness with one hand, he reached down with the other, the glistening of her wetness teasing his eye and making the flames in his chest burn.

Spreading her folds with his fingers, he groaned as he looked down at her light pink insides, her body's honey allowing his thumb to slip back and forth over her clit making her gasp and arch her back. What a sound, he thought, mesmerized. She was all of life and with her, he knew he would share everything.

"Sigefrid," her quiet voice called to him and his eyes looked up to her. "Make love to me, Sigefrid."

As if the war horn had blown, he responded, guiding his swollen tip to her opening. Looking up, his dark eyes locked with hers and all at once he pushed inside.

"By the Gods!" he rushed out as she raised her hands to his shoulders, beckoning him down to rest on her. It felt so right and he knew this was the feeling he would survive any battle for. She was his path to glory.

Withdrawing partially, he pushed back in, his yearning for her unlike anything he had ever felt, an arousal so ripe it smoothed his chaos and steadied his mind. She was the dawn to his dusk, his woman and soon he would make her his wife.

Heat coursed through him, from his hard cock deep in her narrow womb, across his skin, spreading up his back and neck. A low groan rumbled out and he looked up to the trees, fighting the urge to rut hard and fast and immediately spill.

Gods, she looked perfect lying beneath him, he thought as he looked back down, watching pleasure sweep across her beautiful face. The waive of affection he felt was overwhelming and he closed his eyes savouring the feel of being inside her as he rhythmically rocked his hips, each stroke pushing deeper. His skin was moving and pressing against hers bringing forth her scent and the smell of her glossy dark hair, his tongue was tracking up her warm throat as he thrust into her again.

Their movements did not stop until her legs were squeezing his sides, her arms around his neck, his cock sliding out only to pump back in. Every movement was controlled and powerful, and his steady breathing was morphing into low grunts and indiscernible words.

"Sigefrid," she uttered, and his eyes snapped open, seeing her parted lips and hooded eyes, her breath in a light pant.

"Tell me," she whispered with a smile and he had to think about what he had been mumbling. "Say what you are thinking. Please. I can see it in your eyes." Tilting up, she kissed him, her rich brown eyes sparkling, reflecting the sun above.

Staring at her, he felt his chest swell as he languidly withdrew and eased back in and then for the first time in his thirty-one years, he opened his warrior heart.

"Genevieve, I love you."

@naaladareia @geekandbooknerd @hecohansen31 @mdredwine @ceridwenofwales @whenimaunicorn @xbellaxcarolinax @edythofhastings @clevercass

#The Last Kingdom #sigefrid #sigefrid and erik #sigefrid thurgilson fanfic #sigefrid and erik fanfic #sigefrid x oc #sigefrid thurgilson the last kingdom #sigefrid smut #sigefrid love #sigefrid x slave #sigefrid lord of chaos

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author-morgan · 4 years ago

Text

Kryptic ↟ Deimos

twenty-three - one day

masterlist

But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods can defend a man, not even one they love, that day when fate takes hold and lays him out at last.

Death submits to no one, not even Dread and Destruction.

They are both weapons of flesh and bone, of warm blood and beating hearts, and they cannot be controlled.

LESYA CRACKS HER knuckles before winding a piece of linen around her hands —Kassandra is doing the same. The Eagle Bearer is only a few hundred drachmae away from being able to pay Xenia for the information regarding her mother, but after taking so many contracts and doing menial tasks in the seas surrounding Keos a day’s break is well earned. Kass decides to press her luck and spar with Lesya, she needs to be kept on her toes and there is no better person to do so.

The match does not last long. “By the gods,” Kassandra pants, hunched forward with her hands on her knees —she thought it would be a fair fight if neither of them used their weapons. All her experience as a misthios could not compete with the severe and ruthless training Lesya had endured. She is a living weapon, whether the twin blades are in her grasp or not. “I’m glad we won’t face one another in battle.”

Kassandra and Barnabas take their leave of the beach, but before Lesya has a chance to unwrap the cloth around her hands' Tundareos sinks into a boxer’s stance. He smiles —having watched his sister and the misthios compete, but now he wishes to try his luck against her again. A rematch for how easily she bested him on the ship. He fairs just as poorly as Kassandra and comes away with a bruise blossoming on his shoulder and rubbing the stiffness away in his pectoral.

Tundareos tosses his sore arm around Lesya’s shoulders, both of them heading back to Koressia for the evening. Halfway to her brother’s small home, a glint of gold catches her attention. She slows to a stop, gaze following the hooded figure. Deimos. Waving Tundareos ahead, she falls back and slides into an alley between two burned storefronts. Even cloaked, she recognizes him —no one else holds their shoulders and head the way he does. Catching him, Lesya reaches out and jerks the dark hood back. “Why are you following us?”

Deimos spins on heel —there is a strange glint in his eyes, one Lesya cannot place but it fades when he steels his resolve and hardens his expression. “Orders,” he says, producing a small scroll of papyrus from his belt.

She takes the slip from him, quickly reading the messy script. Athens is at a tipping point. We cannot let the Eagle Bearer return to the city or our fallen champion. Stop them by any means. Orders mean nothing if they are not executed. “And I thought it was because you missed me,” she remarks, feigning hurt despite the kink in her lips. He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between them with a single stride.

“Lesya–” he shakes his head. The way he says her name is an unspoken plea. Don’t do this, don’t make this harder. Deimos lifts his hand, cupping her cheek —gentle assurance this is not a dream as she frequents his often. People fear him, but not Lesya. She hangs onto his touch as though it is a lifeline in a stormy sea. With a sigh, her laurel eyes slip shut.

“You’ve never been a good liar, Deimos,” Lesya reminds him —his touch falls into nothingness. Lying, like stealth, was her forte. When force would not work but sweet words would, she was always the one to claim their victories. It was only Elpenor’s hushed agreement that spared him after he stole Lesya away in the moonlight —paving the way for her freedom and his torment. He glances at their feet, hands turning into fists at his side.

A fleeting, bright smile crosses her lips when she tilts his chin up, thumb finding a scar hidden under the stubble of his beard —tawny-gold eyes boring into her own. Lesya searches his face, finding the same troubled glint as before. Something is wrong, though he will not speak of it. “Alexios,” she whispers, wanting him to hear the name and who he truly is. He is not Deimos anymore than she had been Enyo. It is all a lie in the end, though repeated falsehoods often take the appearance of truth.

Stepping back, Deimos turns and peers out to the docks from the narrow alley. “That’s not who I am.” He says as though he is trying to convince himself. Alexios died in the night on the slopes of Mount Taygetos and Deimos was born into the world —bloody and broken. A testament to how he would live life.

Lesya slips her hand into his, feeling the rough and raised scar across his palm against hers. A reminder of the blood he has shed to keep her safe. It does not matter if he is Deimos or Alexios, Lesya only knows she loves him. “You could be, though.” He looks back at her and spreads his fingers —folding them around her hand but says nothing. For you, he thinks I could be. “Stay with me,” she breathes, hopeful.

But Deimos knows it does not matter how much he wants to stay, he cannot. The Cult of Kosmos will forever haunt them should he leave, so he stays for her —to keep her safe, to keep them from finding her. Every monstrous thing he has done has been for her. And all he can manage to say is, “I can’t,” even if the melancholy in his dark eyes say otherwise.

“Then stay with me tonight,” Lesya amends. Deimos will not deny her the night —they each need a good night’s rest that comes with lying next to one another. She does not know where else to go on Keos, so she leads Deimos to Tundareos’ home and points up to the rooftop. They both scale the side of the stone house silently, falling back into pallet beneath moonrise. Absently, Lesya takes one of his arms, turning it over in her lap and begins to unlace the ties of his gilded vambrace.

He watches her, heart beating in his throat as she follows the scar on his forearm with her fingertips. Lesya flicks her eyes up, meeting his steady gaze. For her, it is easy to tell something is wrong. Deimos has never been one for words, but now he is strangely quiet, and his tawny-gold eyes hold more pain than ever. “What happened?” She asks, reaching for his other arm.

The gathering of the Cultists flashes at the forefront of his mind. Everything is a lie, he wants to say, but the words do not come. A weapon to be used until dulled then discarded he thinks, bitterly. Deimos shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he answers, looking past the burned buildings to the sea, “the timing isn’t right.” He still must sail for Athens before Kleon suspects defiance. Lesya slides the second vambrace from his arm, laying it next to the first and says nothing.

Golden light from the setting sun turns Lesya’s copper hair to flame. Mesmerized, Deimos does not even notice she has unhooked the fading white pteruges at his shoulders and unclasped the black-and-gold cuirass until they both fall away. He swallows the lump in his throat when she crawls into his lap, her hands cupping his face. “I’ve missed this,” she whispers. Lesya does not miss the days of torment, but she misses the nights, his touch, falling asleep next to him.

Deimos’ smiles, briefly —arms wrapping around Lesya’s middle, and then she surges forward, kissing him, unable to bear it any longer. He reclines, drawing her back with him, lips never parting until she rolls to the side —propping her chin upon his chest. “One day,” Deimos rasps, a promise —one day we’ll be together. But one day seems so far away. Lesya smiles again, soft and warm, as she settles into his embrace, hand resting over the steady beat of his heart.

When morning comes, Lesya is not eager to let Deimos go, she holds onto the moment for a long as she can before helping him into his armor. He rises from the pallet and sighs, knowing he must travel with the tides. She pulls him back after he takes the first step, jumping up onto her toes. He leans into the kiss, fingers gliding through a waterfall of silken copper.

“Until our paths cross again,” Lesya murmurs, the words dancing across his cheek. Deimos presses his lips against hers again, committing the curve and cracks to memory —he never knows which kiss could be their last. Breaking away from the kiss, he slips from Lesya’s gentle embrace. Their paths will cross sooner than either anticipates.

In the east, the sun continues its march upward into the sky. She stands there for what feels like hours, having watched the Aerion sail from the docks and into the horizon. Silently, Tundareos joins her on the rooftop and engulfs her in his arms. Only then does she notice the dampness on her cheeks and the taste of salt on her lips. Her brother holds her tight, without question —he had seen Lesya and Deimos in the night.

“Kassandra has been searching for you,” he says when she steps from the embrace, wiping her eyes. He told the misthios he had not seen his sister since the previous evening whilst knowing she lay asleep on his roof. “Here–” Tundareos hands her a rolled flatbread filled with honey and mashed fig. Lesya takes the small meal with a smile as they both head toward the Adrestia to find Kass.

The Eagle Bearer has already met with Xenia —learning her mother was once a pirate sailing at the leader’s side under the moniker Phoenix but had parted ways some time ago. News of Myrrine is not all she has to offer. Herodotus has received word from Athens, bearing ill news from the city. Sickness has settled over the city and spurred mobs into riots. Athens is in danger of collapse, a tidal shift in the war. Though she wishes to search for her mother, Kassandra knows they must go to Athens.

Lesya only nods, knowing Deimos will be there and remembering the scroll written in Kleon’s hand. We cannot let the Eagle Bearer return to the city or our fallen champion. Her thoughts are broken when Tundareos claps his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll sail for Athens, too,” he announces —he may sail under Xenia’s colors, but the Ippalkimon is his ship to command. She looks up at her brother, grateful to the gods that they had led them to one another.

@wallsarecrumbling @novastale @fjor-ok-skadi @fucking-dip-shit

#Alexios #Deimos #Alexios x OC #Deimos x OC #Alexios Imagine #Deimos Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Deimos Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #story: Kryptic #my writing

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robotnik-mun · 5 years ago

Photo

So, what happens when I decide to throw caution to the wind and mash together as many fucking Sonic Continuities as I possibly can? You get a big ass tangle of a family tree that needs to be split up into five separate images, that’s what.

It’s ugly, it’s unpolished, and I made it on a whim. Because the mental image wouldn’t leave me. And because I actually started developing this godforsaken nightmare of a family tree, born of merged continuities, headcanons, and sleep deprivation.

Now keep in mind that this thing is pure crack- it implies a world where Sonic eventually collapses from exhaustion of having to fight TWO Robotniks. It’s a mish mash of what-if’s, continuity mergers and personal ideas glued together. And I wanna stress it has nothing to directly do with my current setting- this is just like, The Path of Insanity.

Anyway, yeah. Against my better judgement I made notes for this insanity. Also, you may notice pictures of characters from other franchises being used as portraits for various characters. Those are basically faceclaims of sorts, meant as abstract representations rather than the literal idea of what they looked like... since, honestly, even I’M not cruel enough to inflict my ‘art’ on you.

Anyway, let’s get the ball rolling-

“Robotnikhotep”

-Robotnik Ancestor in ‘Mobigypt’. Was probably some big important muckity-muck.

“Julius Robotnikus”

-Probably Mobius’ answer to Caligula. His family eventually fell out of power and was forced to re-settle in what would eventually become Overland.

Ivo Kintobor

-Yeah, that whole ‘House of Ivo’ thing? This is the guy responsible. Most likely a douchenozzle, as there is a high concentration of that in the bloodline. Basically a minor warlord who unified a bunch of clans to form his own Kingdom, that was subsequently absorbed into Overland during the unification.

Brutus Kintobor

-Oh wow, a SKINNY Robotnik/Kintobor. This douche canoe attempted to conquer Angel Island for the Overland, but failed miserably. Sent back home in disgrace, a failure.

Gerald Robotnik

- Originally born Gerald Kintobor of the House of Ivo in Overland. He was more interested in science than politics, and after completing college he left that mess behind and immigrated to the United Federation. He changed his name to signify the break from his family history.

-Explored Angel Island in his youth, where he learned about Chaos Emeralds and the like from the various ruins there. He was even friends with then-guardian Janelle-Li.

-Started up Robotnik CORPS. He founded it as a way to disseminate his technology to the people of the UF and earn money to fund more experiments.

-You know the rest. The ARK, Maria, NIDS, Black Doom, Shadow, yadda-yadda-yadda.

Olga Robotnik

-Gerald’s wife. Duh.

-She met him while he lived in a spare room her father was renting out. She’d collect his rent. They grew close and eventually had kids and started a family.

-The shit this poor woman endured is amazing, but she managed to remain unbroken by it, and tried to remain close to her surviving grandchildren.

Grigory Robotnik

- The first son of Gerald. He wasn’t a genius, but he pursued a career in academics and became a doctor of physics. He had two children, Warren and Maria.

-After the ARK incident he became paranoid and accused the government of covering up what really happened. The obsession to uncover the truth destroyed his physical and mental health, and he died a shunned outcast ranting on pirated radio stations about various conspiracies.

-Died in a halfway house, but he managed to get ahold of Gerald’s diary before biting it. While he never got to use it to bring down GUN, it still paved the way for Eggman’s eventual use.

Amelia Robotnik

-Maria’s mother. After the ARK incident and the supposed death of her children, she fell into a deep depression and eventually committed suicide. In case you haven’t noticed, the story of the Robotnik family is depressing as fuck.

Warren Robotnik, ‘Warpnik’

-Maria’s brother. What a tweest!

-He was with her on the ARK, and demonstrated a similar scientific gift to his grandfather. He wasn’t close to Shadow the way Maria was.

-When the ARK was raided, he was captured and subjected to brainwashing treatments by GUN in the hopes of turning him into a loyal, in-house mad scientist. All it did was make him batshit crazy.

-He escaped some time during the Great War, and is now loose in Mobius, a lunatic geneticist fixated on continuing his grandfather’s ‘great work’... or at least his own warped perception of it.

Maria Robotnik

-You know her. You love her. Her life is a tragedy. She’s Maria! Nuff said. Years later, and she still weighs heavily on Shadow.

Ivo Kintobor

-And here is where things get a bit confusing! Ivo was born ‘Ivo Robotnik’, the second son of Gerald. Long story short, he was a douche more interested in politics and profit, and as such did not get along with his father, who bequeathed the family company to his younger brother.

-Despite this, Ivo SOMEHOW managed to reproduce. And when the ARK incident happened, he bought the government line hook line and sinker. He changed the family name back to Kintobor and moved everyone back to Overland to start anew.

-He’s like 50% responsible for Julian winding up the way he did.

-And yes- he DOES want to bulldoze the puppy orphanage to create a combination oil rig/toxic waste dump.

-Was murdered by Julian, who disguised it as an accident.

Lydia Kintobor

-ICE BABY ICE.

-Julian and Colin’s mom.

-She 100% supported her husband’s douchery, and was an active participant in tormenting her secondborn son in the hopes of ‘breaking’ him out of being a genius.

-Killed in the same ‘accident’ that took her husband’s life.

Colin Kintobor Sr.

-Born in the United Federation, but moved to the Overland as a child and grew up there.

-Major league Nationalist and Human Supremacist. Prick.

-Hated Julian basically forever and was encouraged by his parents to do so. He became their ‘golden child’ and was pushed to succeed at everything.

-Pursued a career in politics, law, and the military, and eventually served as a general in the Great War.

-Was eventually murdered by his own brother

Miriam Kintobor

-Colin’s first wife, via arranged marriage.

-She was pretty much his opposite, yet despite that fact the two came to genuinely love one another.

-Died giving birth to their son. Have I mentioned the Kintobor/Robotnik family history is a trainwreck yet?

Angela Kintobor

-The second wife of Colin. She probably met him while serving as a military functionary during the Great War. She is also the mother of Hope Kintobor.

-Other than that, I got nothin’. She likely died when Hope was young, by way of Swatbot invasion. Seriously, do NOT become a Kintobor Love Interest.

Colin “Snively” Kintobor Jr.

-You know him, you hate him! It’s the Snivster, bay-bee!

-His mother died giving birth to him. His dad blamed him for this. You can guess the rest.

-You know most of the story- crappy childhood, admired his uncle Julian, helped him take over the Kingdom of Acorn, spent a decade as his punching bag, etc etc.

-After seemingly offing Julian during Endgame, he briefly took over the Robotnik Empire.... and promptly lost it to Naugus, forcing him to flee for his life. In exchange for information about Robotropolis’ defenses, King Acorn spared his life but sentenced him to be imprisoned forever.

-Was busted out by a returned Julian so that his uncle would be able to properly ‘thank’ him for losing his empire. Helped the FFs to escape Robotnik’s revenge, and after spending time bumming around with them (and hating it) decided to throw in his lot with Crazy Uncle Ivo.

-He’s regretted it ever since... though he sticks with him because its either Ivo or Julian, and Julian will ensure his death is cruel, messy, and lingers for years to come.

Hope Kintobor

-The second child of Colin Kintobor. She was born during the later years of the Great War and spent much of her early life living in siege conditions as Overland tried and failed to stop the advancement of Robotnik.

-Eventually she witnessed the death of her father and remaining family at the hands of Robotnik before being saved by Sonic. She had an extended stay in Knothole afterwards, where she slowly learned that much of her people’s views of Mobians was innacurate.

-She eventually moved to the United Federation as a ward of GUN, serving as the technology expert for Team Dark. She is close to all of them.

-Seeks to redeem the name of her family so that it’s legacy won’t be one of bloodshed, conquest and madness. She’s got a waaaays to go, to put it mildlry.

-Despite everything she still cares about her awful, awful half-brother.

Dr. Julian Robotnik

-Had a REALLY goddamned crappy....well, life, basically. Take my word for it.

-Has basically murdered his entire immediate family by this point.

-Prior to the Great War he aided the Overlander Ministry of Conflict in toppling the legitimate government of the Kingdom of Amunopolis (Aleena’s Kingdom), forcing it’s royal family to flee to the Kingdom of Acorn and re-settle under new identities, with crown princess becoming ‘Bernadette Hedgehog’. That’s right- he’s indirectly responsible for Sonic existing.

-Blah blah blah evil experiments blah blah war crimes blah blah sentenced to be executed by Overlander government during the Great War and blah blah blah coup.

-Took over a large swathe of Mobius and expanded to conquer more, and for a time seemed like he might conquer the entire planet. The Robotnik Empire is.... not a fun place. Then or now.

-Then Sonic and the FF’s happened. Then Endgame happened, and he was... indisposed for a while, leading to his empire being diminished. While he has returned, he has suffered numerous setbacks since then, and the Robotnik Empire is now greatly diminished from its peak.

-That being said, he still rules a pretty big part of the planet, and is still the biggest danger to the world at present.

-Hates his cousin Ivo.

-REALLY goddamn hates That Hedgehog.

Laura Kintobor

-That’s Doctor Laura Kintobor (nee Ellison) to you, buster.

-She and Julian both worked as scientists with Overland’s science ministry, where they met and befriended one another. She eventually managed to coax Julian out of his shell, and their friendship bloomed into a romance, which led to the two marrying.

-She worked in the organic sciences division and was an expert on biology and zoology. In contrast to most scientists, she was very much an outdoorswoman. Even managed to convince Julian to partake.

-Much like her unfortunate sister-in-law, she died in childbirth... giving birth to a stillborn daughter.

-Yeah, this shit is grim.

Theodore Robotnik

-Third son of Gerald. Blatantly named in reference to Theodore Roosevelt, who was used as a visual reference for Eggman.

-Basically a professional beancounter who later inherited Robotnik CORPS. He chose to stick with his original name even after the ARK incident, and struggled to keep Robotnik CORPS afloat in the immediate aftermath of the incident.

-Set up a trust fund for his son Ivo, and tried his best to raise him to be a contributing member of society.

-Sufficed to say, that didn’t work. If he’s still alive, he has a REALLY tense relationship with his son.

-Named his son after his older brother as a passive-aggressive act of spite for abandoning the ‘Robotnik’ name.

Dolores Robotnik

-Mother of Ivo. She was a professor of chemistry who decided to put her career on hold in order to be homemaker.

-Was much closer to her son than Theodore was, and often wound up having to play peacemaker between the two. ESPECIALLY during Ivo’s tumultous teenage years.

-Sufficed to say she is not exactly pleased with how he turned out, assuming she’s still alive even.

Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik

-HE IS THE EGGMAN. HE’S GOT THE MASTER PLAN! Really, do you NEED to know any more?

-Well, okay, you do. He was born very shortly before the ARK incident and never knew his grandfather.

-His childhood wasn’t horrible, but it was rough in areas due to his high intelligence making things more difficult for him than they should of be. Loads of disagreements with his dad over pursuing science. Spent years plagued by the derogatory name of ‘Eggman’ due to his weight problems.

-You know how you fantasize about ruling the world as a kid? He never really left that stage of things.

-He initially worked as a research scientist in the fields of AI and energy. During the Great War he was approached by GUN to develop weapons for them. His research would go on to form the basis of the robotic soldiers later used by them in the Robotnik war.

-Began his plot to take over Mobius during his time there, and secretly began to appropriate resources and machines to build a hidden base on the distant South Island. Eventually his schemes were discovered by GUN, but he fled.

-While his cousin conquered portions of Mobius elsewhere, Eggman began his long term Death Egg scheme as a means of conquering Mobius in one fell swoop with the aid of the Chaos Emeralds.

-You can guess how it goes from here- he encounters Sonic on South Island and in the Scrap Brain Zone and is defeated, thus setting the tone for MANY other defeats in the future. He eventually took on the name ‘Dr. Eggman’ as a way to differentiate himself from his cousin, and to make the insult that dogged his life into a name to be feared ala ‘Penguin’.

-When his cousin Julian was seemingly killed and the Robotnik Empire in dissarray, Eggman started new bids to take over the world. He established the Metropolis Zone as his ‘capital city’ and founded the Egg Army to help supplement his Badnik Horde. The Eggman Empire now exists as a terrorist army at the beck and call of Dr. Eggman, though he’s still got a ways to go.

-Has four sons by three different women. Slut.

???

-Haven’t got a name for her yet. She was a random girl that a college age Ivo knocked up, which putty much put an end to her collegiate ambitions. She gave birth to two sons, one of whom she bitterly named ‘Ivan’ as a reminder of his origins after failing to get child support out of her babydaddy. She re-married and is currently leading a comfortable enough life. Humors her son because she knows it annoys his biological father.

Ivan Eggman

-The oldest of Eggman’s sons. In his mid 30s or so. Scientifically gifted, as his father was.

-Has numerous, numerous issues pertaining to his stepfather, a hard and strict man with little toleration for nonsense.

-Idolizes his biological father and desperately wants to be acknowledged by him, even changing his original surname to ‘Eggman’. Eggman the 1st was NOT amused.

-Eventually founded a company, Eggman Industries, and grew rich rapidly. Settled by the Bygone Islands where he pursues life as a ‘villain’ now, though really he’s more like a public nuisance than anything.

-Honestly he’s basically living a ‘second childhood’ of sorts using his scientific know-how and riches, and has vowed to one day impress his father and earn his acknowledgement. As you can imagine, it is.... not working out at all, given that he’s even more of a goober than his pop.

-Ironically, he isn’t naturally bald- he SHAVES his head.

Steve

-Yeah, he ain’t a robot here- Steve is the organic, younger (by about a minute) twin brother of Ivan.

-Utterly unconcerned with science or any of that jazz. He’s basically a bohemian beach bum, complete with californian accent- he spends much of his time surfing and earning cash from side jobs.

-Really mellow and easy-going, and doesn’t really dwell on stuff.

-Utter himbo.

Mrs. Robotnik

- Ex-Wife of Ivo Robotnik. Haven’t given it too much thought, but she and Ivo met while working in acadamia, and eventually married.

-Initially the relationship was pretty solid, and they even had a child together. However things swiftly deteriorated between the two as Ivo’s immaturity and increasing anger at the world strained their relationship, along with him being a lousy parent to their son. She eventually divorced his ass.

-After going through a rough patch with her son, she has begun to re-connect with him after his years a delinquent, and now happily supports his endeavors.

Ivo Robotnik Jr.

-Middle son of Dr. Eggman. Had a nonexistant relationship with his father while growing up, which combined with the divorce eventually turned him into a juvenile delinquent.

-He roamed with a biker gang for a while, and prefers to be called ‘Junior’ rather than ‘Ivo’.

-Fell in with Breezie for a while, the both of them unaware of the other’s connection to Eggman. They eventually went their separate ways once Junior began to turn over a new leaf. He still carries a torch for her, though is painfully aware it’d never work out. Their relationship is... complicated, these days.

-Has since become a software security engineer, making a living providing Anti-Eggman/Robotnik software to companies.

Lindsey Thorndyke

-A famed actress. She and Ivo had a drunken tryst at a wrap party where he’d been invited to act as a consultant on scientific accuracy. To avoid scandal she informed her husband, and they passed off the baby as their own.

-What more do you want. Its LINDSEY.

Chris Thorndyke

-The youngest son of Ivo Robotnik. Spent much of his life completely unaware of his true parentage.

-Eh, what can I say, I kind like the theory of him actually being a Robotnik in some capacity or the next.

-When he was a boy, he befriended Sonic and his friends and even hosted them during the days when Eggman’s schemes for global conquest caused him to haunt Station Square for a while.

-Admired his grandfather Chuck and pursued science to be like him, studying physics and engineering.

-Thanks to his mom he’s something of a film buff.

-In college he learned the truth of his heritage. This has put a strain on his relationship with his parents.

Francis Kintobor

-The youngest of Gerald’s sons. Pursued a career as a schoolteacher. While he changed his name in the aftermath of the ARK incident as his older brother Ivo had, he chose to make a small joke at his brother’s expense over the ludicrousness of the name change by naming his own son ‘Ovi Kintobor’.

-Named after Francis Mao, aka That Guy Who Made That One Comic Adaptation From 1991.

Elizabeth Kintobor

-Dr. Ovi Kintobor’s mother. A career veterinarian with a strong love of animals. That’s about it.

Ovi Kintobor

- Grew up on Westside Island, among Mobians. Had a pretty happy and contented childhood, and like many of the other various members of the Kintobor/Robotnik clan developed a pronounced interest and skill in science at a young age.

-Developed a particular interest in researching Chaos Emeralds.

-A Concientious Objector, he served as a medic during the Great War.

-Deeply, deeply shamed by the actions of his more notorious cousins, he has essentially hidden himself from the world to pursue his research and evade their notice, while helping against them in whatever way he can.

-Has secretly transported people threatened by his cousins to safer places, and once caused a mass sabotage of their respective robotic forces through the ‘Nicenik Virus’.

-An ally of the Freedom Fighters.

-Deeply distrusts GUN (which frankly isn’t a bad call).

-Bit of a hippy, but really is a genuinely nice guy who wants to help others through science.

-In some villages he is known as ‘Mr. Tinker’.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Dr. Robotnik #Dr. Eggman #Colin Kintobor #Chris Thorndyke #Gerald Robotnik #Hope Kintobor #Snively #Warpnik #Maria Robotnik #Robotnik Junior #Boom Eggman #Steve Eggman #Robotnik Jr #Truly this was the best way to spend the finite thing known as my time on earth

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mercurypilgrim · 5 years ago

Note

“Why are you being nice to me?” prompt please! XD

(Ask, and ye shall receive! ;) ) Odessen was… cold.

Fia shivered as she stepped off the shuttle, pulling her cloak around her shoulders.

The Force was in such serene balance, it almost made her head spin.

It was strange really, to be so overwhelmed by balance.

She was nervous.

Master Till'in had always mentioned that she needed to be more level-headed, but it was hard to quell the squirming feeling of nerves that made her feel a little sick.

From her spot off to the side of the ramp, she watched the rest of the inhabitants of the shuttle disembark.

She had recognised a fellow Jedi in there, but the others were unknown. A trio of surly looking soldiers in Republic armour had stuck closely together, watching everyone else with thinly veiled suspicion. A quiet woman in the garb of a spacer had played with her holopad the entire journey, and the other Jedi had been content to meditate by themself.

Fia had felt quite out of place, even as the other Jedi had opened an eye to give her a warm smile before slipping back into their mediation.

This was the most nerve-wracking thing she had done since passing her trials to become a Knight, and that was on her second try.

She looked up in a watery blue sky garnished with puffy clouds, and breathed in cool, crisp air.

She had always loved being out in the fresh air.

Her former occupation as a crew member on a junk hauler on Raxus Prime seemed impossibly long ago now, but the distaste of fumes and industrial spaces lingered.

Gingerly, she followed the quiet spacer as she headed for the huge staging area, hewn from the rock. The sheer scale was impressive enough, but the fact that it had been done so quickly was astonishing.

Glancing around, she felt strangely guilty for being here, as though she was invading the space. People baring Alliance insignia hurried back and forth, some dressed in fatigues and others in officers’ uniforms.

It all felt awfully familiar, and at the same time, completely out of place.

She swallowed hard when she spotted a figure in a dark robe, hood over their face and a lightsaber clipped to their belt, hurry past them with a thunderous expression on her face. Stark crimson tattoos covered her face, and Fia knew what that meant.

She was so busy staring, she almost bumped into the spacer when she suddenly stopped.

Flashing an awkward, apologetic smile to the dark look thrown her way, she peered through the throng of people.

A woman in fatigues and with the baring of someone used to being listened to was standing waiting for them, her face stony. She was backed by a cohort of neutral looking assistants, all of whom stayed quiet.

“I am Lieutenant Fisher,” the leader introduced, her accent placing her from one of the Imperial fringe worlds. She was a mountain of a woman, standing tall and broad. Her sharp dark eyes and closely cropped hair gave her the air of someone Fia would never ever cross. “Welcome to Odessen.”

She continued her welcome, and Fia strained to listen for fear of missing a single instruction. Her mind tended to wander easily, and she always tried listen extra hard to people who looked like they could break her in two.

Eventually, she heard that she and any other Force inclined recruits were to head for the Force Enclave. Having no idea where this was, she resolved to follow the kindly Jedi she had met on the shuttle.

They were already following one of the assistants, and Fia scrambled to keep up.

The Jedi shot her a little smile when she joined their side, quiet and calm.

Fia wished she could be so composed.

She followed the two as the assistant led them through a maze of rock hewn corridors, passing rooms and doors by the dozen. She craned her neck to take in every detail, turning her head to look at everything on their path. People were everywhere, going about their business as though they weren’t part of the most amazing thing Fia had ever seen.

The Alliance was monumental.

Amazing.

Awe inspiring.

How could she not want to be a part of that?

She-

She blinked, pausing.

She didn’t see her Jedi companion anymore.

She didn’t see the assistant, either.

Attempting to squash the panic threatening to rise in her belly, she looked around and found herself completely lost.

She had been so busy staring at everything that she must have missed them turning off down another corridor.

Wringing her hands, she headed back the way she came, recognising none of it.

It was quiet here too, and as soon as she spotted someone that she could ask, they hurried away with their heads in a holopad or call.

Calm.

She needed to stay calm and normal and peaceful.

She was lost.

Oh, what if they thought she was a spy? They had Imperials in the Alliance so what if they wanted to torture her because she had wandered into a restricted area and she had only stepped off the shuttle half an hour ago and now she was poking around where she shouldn’t and-

“Are you alright?”

She jumped, her whole body tensing as a sudden voice cut through her growing fright.

She whirled around and, to her horror, came face to face with black armor and amber eyes.

She blinked, wringing her hands.

“Ahh, I- I’m really sorry!” She burst out with, mouth moving faster than her brain. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, I just got off the shuttle and then I lost the person- the guy I was following, and- I’m sorry.”

She cringed as the Sith, for he couldn’t have been anything else with that armour and those eyes, looked at her.

“You’re lost? Well, it happens.” The Sith smiled, showing sharp teeth. She squeaked, and his eyes crinkled with humour. “But I asked if you were alright. You look a bit shaken. Do you need a sit down? A shot of whiskey? Maybe a hug?”

Fia stared. The Sith didn’t seem angry, and he sounded like he was teasing her.

She looked at him more closely.

He was Mirialan, tall and solid looking under that armour. His face was decorated with geometric tattoos, and his eyes were bright golden amber against dark skin. Orange ringed his iris like a mockery of a limbic circle, and she marvelled at it. He was smiling at her.

“I- um…“

He raised a dark eyebrow, and it disappeared under the mop of curls that reached down to brush his shoulders.

“A sit down then. Come on, I’ll show you the cantina.”

“I’m supposed to be going to the Force Enclave.” She managed shyly, and he waved a dismissive hand.

She stared. Those gauntlets had claws on them.

“Oh, they can complain if they want.” He grinned, leading the way, and apparently expecting her to follow. “You need a drink.”

Fia cringed.

“I don’t- uh, I can’t really have-“

“Booze? Fair enough. I think they have Xambu juice in this week.”

What in the name of all the stars was Xambu juice?

She followed along meekly, half expecting the Sith to turn and go for her throat.

“I’m Ven’fir, by the way.” He introduced as he led her into a corridor with more people. The air was more relaxed here, and she could hear music getting louder as they approached, as well as the sound of talking and clinking glasses. “You’re one of the new recruits, yeah?”

She nodded, trying to keep pace with his long strides.

“Yes. I’m Fia. Uh, Knight Fia.” She corrected with an awkward smile.

He grinned at her again, and she was struck by how not-menacing it was.

“Not used to the rank yet?” he asked pleasantly, leading her into a cantina. It was a huge space, the craggy rock ceiling giving it a rather unique atmosphere. It was fairly quiet at this hour, but there were still enough people to give the place a low buzz of sound.

She shook her head.

“It’s been two years.” She admitted. “But I’m still not used to it.”

“I know the feeling.” He replied vaguely, and she wondered what he meant.

He rattled of an order to the serving droid and handed her one of the glasses that it returned with. The liquid inside was clear, but too thick to be water. It had a pretty iridescence when it caught the light, and a bright pink fruit on the side of the glass.

The Sith was drinking the same thing.

He led her to a table and settled down, clearly expecting her to join him.

He raised a glass to someone who waved at him, shooting them a grin and wink.

Fia was feeling quite overwhelmed. She took a drink of her strange beverage and found it to be deliriously sweet. It was pleasant and fizzed on her tongue as she tasted it.

“Why are you being nice to me?” she blurted, sitting awkwardly in her chair.

She Sith blinked in surprise, glass halfway to his mouth.

He took a drink, swallowed it, and shrugged.

“Why not?” he asked, “What good would being cruel to you do me?”

Fia wasn’t sure how to answer that without offending him.

He noticed her reluctance to speak, and a knowing look crossed his face.

“It’s because I’m Sith, isn’t it?” he said, taking another drink. “You thought I would go out of my way to torment a Jedi.”

She cringed, her cheeks heating up. She wrung her hands in her lap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” She assured. “That was really rude of me.”

He gave a little smile.

“It’s alright, I understand why you’d be nervous. We were on opposite sides not too long ago, after all.” He reassured. “Every Sith here is here because they want to be, same as every Jedi. They’re not all saints, but they’re Alliance.” He said firmly. “And that means they’ve chosen to leave everything they’ve ever known just to be here, just like you.”

She swallowed painfully, nodding.

“Yeah, I- I know. I’m just being stupid. I do that a lot.” She offered him a smile and was relieved when she got one back.

“Oh, there’s plenty of stupidity here.” He laughed, and the sound was loud and restrained. “Mostly from me, or so my advisors tell me.”

She frowned.

“Advisors?”

Important people had advisors.

He glanced at her, sly.

“Yeah. I was a bit… less than completely honest when I introduced myself earlier.” He admitted with a sheepish grin. “The name’s Ven’fir Quinn, Darth Venator and Alliance Commander. Nice to meet you.”

Fia stared at him in horror as he offered her his hand to shake, clawed gauntlet and all.

Unable to keep a straight face, Ven’fir couldn’t help but laugh.

His laugh was loud and infectious, and soon she found herself giggling too.

The knot of nerves in her belly untangled itself and melted away, and finally she felt like she was safe.

#SWTOR #Fanfiction #Asks #Padawan Fia #Venf'ir #OCs #Ven can be sneaky sometimes #For like 5 minutes #The Jedi are completely justified in being weirded out by the Sith tho #As are the Sith about being near Jedi #I think Ven would take no shit on that front though #You will get along or we will MAKE you get along #by ordering you to go to cultural sensitivity classes #or therapy

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azulann · 4 years ago

Text

Refuge

Prompt: Lush

Some Yura and Alphinaud Fluff

Art by my wonderful friend: https://www.deviantart.com/sing-sei

A light sneeze broke the serene silence of the Shroud, a warm sun and a cool breeze rendering the weather around the area pleasant and calming. Alphinaud stepped lightly as he made his way down the beaten path before him, destination in mind yet in no rush to meet it. In no rush to disturb the lasting peace of the foliage. Another sneeze, another assurance that Alphinaud had been correct in his identification of the area to which Yura had made her usual disappearance. She was nothing if not consistent in this much at least. The young Elezen tread carefully across the dirt as he approached Yura, with no desire to either distract or alarm her as he watched her finish filling the ground before her. Yura often made her comfort zone in the forests of the Shroud. She seemed so calm, so peaceful at work. It was how she always was when she came to this place.

He watched as she finished her task, brushing herself off as a content sigh left her lips. Judging now a better time than any to beg her attention, Alphinaud spoke, “I thought I might find you here.”

Yura’s gaze shot up towards the young man, her eyes widening for a moment before a smile returned to her lips. “It’s not like I was hiding, you know,” though her words may have been true, it was not as if her place of refuge was anywhere of extreme evidence.

“I am aware. Still, not many might think to seek you out here,” Alphinaud grinned back down at her in retort. The area she chose to make her comfort zone was a road less traveled but benefited more for it. She had made it her own little world. Her own little garden of which she frequented. What was her work and what was the work of the forest, he could not say, but either way, it was her place of solace?

Yura gave a slight tilt of her head at his words, raising a brow at his words as she cocked her smile further, “Yet you would?”

“I’ve come to recognize your affinity for the area, yes.” Alphianud approached Yura further, crouching down to meet her level as he continued to speak, “You’ll get sick if you stay here too long.”

“Aye, I’ll be fine mother,” Yura jostled her friend lightly as he drew closer to her, turning her head to loom towards the canopy above, “I just wanted to come help before I went back. Relax a bit. It's always so peaceful here.”

Alphinaud made himself further comfort as he sat fully next to his friend, gaze turning in accompaniment from the young woman to the sky above, “T’is indeed a place of serenity. One cannot blame you for seeking solace in such times.” A silence fell between the two as they continued to gaze upward for the Twelve only knew how long, the deafening silence only disturbed by the brushing of the wind against the trees and the wildlife’s cheers for the calm day. Alphinaud eventually saw fit to break the silence between the two teens as he drew his gaze back at Yura, intently continuing her gaze at the sky “I do feel my curiosity begging to ask what seems to draw you here so often. Pardon my saying but I believe few ever pictured you as the “garden” type.”

Yura’s gaze did not falter at her friend’s question, continuing to gaze up at the vast space. She pondered her words for a moment, inhaling the scent of the world around her before speaking, “I grew up around… a lot of snow. Ishgard is nice and all but not exactly the premier place to go to see towering trees and lush vegetation. I did not see a lot of it growing up,” Yura reached upwards slowly to grab at a falling leaf, watching as it slowly slipped from her grasp as she continued to speak, “When I first left home, I was… really lost. I had not planned ahead. I had not thought things through. By the very nature of life, I should not had made it as far as I did,” once more she reached outwards, gently grabbing at the falling foliage , small bits just barely grazing and missing her hand as she reached further towards the sky. “But, by the grace of the twelve or whatever such nonsense one might seek to believe, I was blessed enough to be taken in by good souls. Kind people. J’thel and the like. They could see I was lost. I was confused. And so, they brought me here. To the Shroud. It was not always safe, nor was it always peaceful, but it was… calming. Fascinating. Perfect'.'

“T’was all a new sight to you then. A new feeling,” Alphinaud’s vision grew slimmer as his face cracked in a further smile, his gaze fixed upon Yura even as she focused solely upon the sky. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so idealistic in all these years I’ve known you.”

Yura finally broke her fixation upon the sky overhead, bringing her eyes back down to look into her friends for a moment, her smile widening. With the jubilance of a child after a bit too much sugar, Yura found herself jumping upward from her sitting position, reaching back towards the sky with full force, “I had never seen so much green before in my life!” She stayed reaching for a moment before pulling her arms back down to her sides, though her gaze held it’s fixation on the heavens, the sun beginning it’s descent from the sky. “I remember spending hours among the foliage, a child in a dreamland. I had never seen so much color. J’thel spent more time then he would have cared to tracking me down after that, always waiting to see the small girl poke her head from the grass and vines, covered in pollen, petals, trimmings, any of it.”

“Not too far from where you appear now, as it were.” A gentle hand brushed Yura’s shoulder, pulling her gaze back towards her friend for a moment as he dusted the dirt and petals from her shoulder. The pair held the look as he moved to brush further foliage from her head gently, smiling softly as his hand dragged past her check slowly, hand lingering upon her head long enough to send a blush to Yura’s cheeks as she turned away once more, though her smile remained.

Clearing her throat, eyes fixed upward once more, she continued, “Something opened in me that day. Something bright and hopeful. It felt like the ice around my heart had begun to melt away. All that torment that had built… it was gone, if only for a moment. It did not stay happy forever. Things happen and… I had to make a choice. To find my own way. But I still remember it all,” Yura broke her gaze one final time to look down at a small bush of flowers before her, running a hand softly over the leaves, gently caressing the blooming buds, “I come back here, in body when I can and in mind when far away, to remember a time of happiness. Of joy among the sorrow. Even with the pain I feel in remembering some of those days, the time we spent here, together… the warmth I felt from those strangers turned family. Seeing these blooms, even slow as they may grow, it makes me feel… happy again. To love something so dearly. To have something so important to come back to. ”

Alphinaud tore his gaze from the Young Au Ra to observe the plant on which she had fixated. T’was not grand by any means, but still young and strong. Where now there stood buds there would one day be full blooms. Full beauties. Full showings of the love and care she had poured into the flowers. For the love she held for those dear to her. “To hold all this so close to your heart. I never knew that such a place, something so simple, was so important to you.”

“The love I feel for this place…It’s how I feel about you. And the Scions,” The young elezen’s ears perked at Yura’s words as she spun his gaze back around to look at Yura once more. Her eyes had moved to him, squarely fixed upon his face as a light pink hue crept to her face. Yet unlike her usual moments of sentiment, t’was not a blush of embarrassment, but of joy. Happiness. Her eyes shone bright enough to assure him of that. “We were all strangers trying to make our way in the world. I knew you and Alisaie of course but I don’t think we all ever really “knew” one another. We just sort of… stumbled into each other. And grew. We sprouted like this lush garden and grew ourselves a home, new and proud,” Yura gently took her friends' hands in both hers, squeezing them gently as she cast her vision down for a moment to gather her words. “Meeting all these people when I felt I had nothing left…” she gazed back at her friend softly, “It meant the world to me Alphinaud. You and everyone else.”

Another wave of silence crept over the pair as they beamed at one another, both turned shades of pink by this time but both content in their blush. In a synchronized movement they both made their way closer to one another, pausing inches from one another as they cast deep gazes into one another’s eyes, memorizing the light that showed in each other’s. Slowly did they close their eyes as their lips brushed every briefly before pulling away just long enough to enter a content hug, enveloping one another in a tight and never ending embrace as Yura whispered quietly.. “Thank you for letting me share all this with you. All of this.”

#FFXIV #FFXIVWrite2020 #FFXIVWrite #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #Yura Kha #Yura x Alphinaud #Yura and alphinaud #yura #My Writing

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lee-donghun · 5 years ago

Text

Together

Fandom: Until We Meet Again

Ship: Mainly winteam, mentions of pharmdean and poly relationship of manaow, pruk and del

Words: 2751

Type: canon divergent one shot

Notes: very glad I wrote this on Google docs- because tumblr physically ate the post when I first posted it

-limited third person POV focusing on Team-

Team knew what he was doing. Okay that was a lie- but that was besides the point. He at the very least had to pretend he knew in order to avoid embarrassing himself. After all- what guy didn't know how to ask a girl out? He figured, that it may have been easier had he *actually* liked any girls he saw but he couldn't focus on that. He had already made a promise to himself that he wouldn't spend the year alone. Not again. Especially now that Pharm had his boyfriend, and Manaow had her relationship with Pruk and Del. He was tired of being left alone. Sure they made time for him, but he just wished he would have someone else to spend time with as well. Maybe then- he would be happier and less free for Hia to terrorize.

He wasn't sure what was up with Win- but he swore the other made it his personal life mission to fluster him as much as possible. From stealing his clothes in the locker room and making him beg to get them back, to making him practice the longest and when asked why answering with "I just want to spend more time with you" or doing that damn thing with his tongue while staring at him with a deep look in his eyes... It's safe to say that Team was sufficiently flustered. He just didn't know why his Hia was so good at it .

Win had a nice body- that fact no one could deny. But so did Dean- and him just drinking from a water bottle or something like that didn't have the effect that Win did. Team couldn't explain it- but at times he felt weak in the knees for him. Especially because behind the constant teasing, he also saw a softer side of Hia that he, admittedly, wished was only shown to him.

Team was still sure that his senior did it on purpose though. There was no other reason that he would get weak at the knees when Win hugged him close and comforted him after a nightmare. Or he would feel hot under his gaze, or want to kiss him. No- he couldn't feel for things for Hia that he's never felt before for no reason.

But back onto the task on hand. Kop. The two got on fairly well enough. He figured that he could learn to like her if he thought about her as a girlfriend enough. Besides- it was her or that Pam girl who talks to him sometimes as he didn't know any more single girls. Kop was a much better choice. He doubted dating Win's ex would help the torment any.

"Kop? C-can I ask you something?" Team hesitantly muttered out. He felt nervous doing this- that he was doing the wrong thing. At the back of his mind, he swore he even heard his mental voice say something along the lines of 'but what about your Hia?'

"of course Team! Whats up?" Kop answers back, curious as to what was ailing her friend.

"Would," Team took a breath here, somehow plagued with regret, " Would you go to the movies with me? On a date?"

She didn't answer right away, thinking it over, but ultimately agreed. The two planned on going Friday, but they couldn't stay and chat as she had a class to go to.

-----------

Team was sat at a lunch table with Win, Dean, Pharm, Manaow, Pruk and Del. Win had an arm around his shoulder as was per usual with his hia. For once though, he entertained Win and allowed it to happen. He had spent the night at his place after all to calm his nightmares, and he figured he could pay Hia back a little with his burning cheeks.

"Are you coming to Pharm's to study with us on Friday?" Manaow asked Team.

"I can't. I have a date." Team *tried* to say it proudly, but he still couldn't stop that feeling that he made a mistake. Especially when Win turned to look at him with an almost angry look and withdrew his arm.

"Win never mentioned a date?" Dean asked making Team confused

"Why would he know I was going on a date? I never told Win?" Team asked back.

Everyone, but Win, startled his answer.

"but we thought you were dating Win?" Del, from beside Manaow, asked.

"No. We aren't." Practically growled Win as he stomped off, not sparing another glance to Team.

"Hia-" Team tried to say, but he wasn't listening, causing Team to pout. He wanted the teasing to stop- not for Hia to be mad at him. They were still friends after all. He also didn't understand why he had gotten upset.

"what did I say?" Whispered Team to himself.

Team didn't know what the others were thinking- but he could tell you that they were shocked about something. But whether this was caused by his abrupt departure for the fact that Team and Win weren't together is another story.

Something about Team going on a date obviously upset Win. That much was clear to him, but he didn't understand what exactly. It wasn't like Team was cheating on him or anything- they were just friends. unlike what their other friends thought, there had never been anything between them besides Win making him flustered. If there was any feelings there- it was one-sided on Team's part. Or maybe that's what got Win upset. The fact that everyone thought they were together. Team swore he felt his heart crumble slightly at this train of thought but he couldn't dismiss it either.

----------

A month later, it was clear things had changed for Team. He had been dating Kop, who now spends lunch with them, and successfully avoided Win teasing him. However, in the process of doing so, Win had barely talked to him at all. Team never stayed later for practice at his request anymore, and neither was he talked to unless it was an order to do something. Besides this, he has barely slept. Typically, he'd crawl into Hia's bed but he doesn't feel like it's his place too anymore- not with Win mad at him. So while Team got what he wanted- he also lost something even bigger. He never wanted to lose Hia like this. In fact, right now, he'd break up with Kop if it meant getting his friend back. He cared about both, but his life seemed pointless without Win there. However, he doubted that would help anything. He had to find the root cause of hia's anger.

Kop seemed to sense something was wrong though, so she turned to her boyfriend, "Ai'Team? What's wrong?"

"I had a fight with Hia, but I'm really missing him." Team confessed, not wanting to lie to her.

"Hia? Oh- P'Win. Well- what was the argument about?" Kop softly asked, grabbing onto Team's hand for support.

"I'm not sure really. One minute I was talking about our plans to go on a date, and another he stomped off," Team paused before continuing, not entirely sure it would be polite to go on, "Everyone thought the date was with Hia and I. Maybe that's why he stormed off."

"Team," Kop paused as well, but her purpose seemed to be in thinking over her word choice, "do you think there's a possibility he's upset because he's jealous?"

"Jealous? Of who? He didn't even ask who I was dating before he stormed off."

"What I mean, Team, is that he's jealous because he likes you."

Team froze at her suggestion. In one sense, it seems absurb that Hia could have feelings for him but in another- it made everything else make sense. The glances, the constant need to have an arm around him in some way, the way Win was always trying to be close and flirting with him. He had always brushed it off as a joke, or an extra way to enjoy some *ahem* private time between the two, but he admitted the idea of Win liking him made his heart twirl for lack of a better phrase. He knew that on some level, he wasn't immune to Hia's charms and everything felt *right* with him but he never let it get further than a feeling. He refused to fall for someone that didn't like him back. Though, now thinking about it, he supposed it may be too late. He had already fallen for the other.

-limited third person POV focusing on Kop-

Kop watched him mull things over with a small smile on her face. She did like Team, but she also understood that she wasn't the one for him- or at least not right now. Maybe in the future things would change, but she saw how P'Win and Team had always looked at eachother. This was obvious to everyone which is probably why everyone thought they were dating. Kop certainly knew that she herself had initially thought they were together, and so Team asking her out caught her off guard. Around the campus, it's basically been considered common knowledge that Team and P'Win were both off limits as they were each other's. It certainly never crossed anyone's minds that the two *weren't* together. So with that being said, she was willing to step back and get Team to stop his obliviousness.

-Back to focusing on Team-

"I-" Team started before being interrupted.

"Go get your man Team. It's okay."

Team smiled gently at her quickly before jumping off to search for Win. They needed to sort things out, even if the feelings were one-sided after all. He refused to have Hia mad at him. It felt too horrible for things to continue as they have been.

After roaming around for a bit with zero luck, he figured he would try Hia's dorm. So he drove back and followed the familiar path up to the room. Somehow, though, the path felt different. He felt scared as he initially was when he first went over. He didn't know what to expect from the senior. He only knew that he wanted him back. Arriving, he takes a deep breath and goes to knock but falters at a sound he hears inside. Voices. Hia was with someone. Taking another breath, he finally, albeit shakily, knocked, hoping it wasn't what he thought it was.

Win opened the door, and at the sight of him shirtless, Team ran, away from him and away from the building. Forgetting what he wanted to say to him. It didn't seem worth it at that moment. He would deal with the situation later, but right now he just needed to get away. He heard Win calling after him but he simply ignored him. Shakily collapsing, he called Pharm.

"Ph-Pharm? C-can you c-come p-pick me up?" Team stuttered as he tried to speak through his years.

"Team? What's wrong? Where are you?" Pharm asked over the phone with concern.

"At- the p-park. N-near P-pink milk C-cafe"

"We're on our way. Don't go anywhere" Pharm answered before hanging up.

Team didn't have to ask who the 'we' was. Pharm was most likely with Dean. Maybe, when his tears stopped and he calmed down a little, he could ask about Win. But for now- for now he could nothing but sit and cry. He knew he didn't have all the facts. For all he knew, Win may have been with a family member and nothing had happened. But the possibility that Win could be with someone *like that* still hung around and that felt like a weight was pressing on his heart. Over the months he's known the other, he's never had to deal with the possiblity that Hia wasn't single and though he never realized he would care so much, he really did.

Soonish, he caught sight of Pharm running over and, sure enough, followed by Dean.

"Ph-pharm…" Team managed out breaking down into further sobs.

"We're here Team, it's okay… it's okay." Pharm whispered, crouching down to his level, hugging him

"Team? What happened?" Asked Dean.

Team knew the other was cold to most people but Pharm, but he was still protective over his team mates. So he didn't want to lie and risk worrying him further. He may as well confess.

Taking a deep but shaking breath, Team started, "I- I went over to Hia's to try fix his- his anger at me and- and he had someone over and I just…"

Pharm hugged him further. Pharm then turned to Dean, likely to ask for help.

"Team, listen to us, I'm sure Win didn't do anything with the other. He cares too much about you for him to be with someone else." Dean tried to console him.

There it was again. The idea that Hia liked him. How could he believe it though? How?

All three soon turned their attention to the sounds of heavy footsteps. Win was there, looking frantic. He was followed by a 12 old girl that he knew to be his cousin. Team had met her before, at P'Win's birthday party. Team suddenly felt foolish. He never actually saw who was in the room with Hia. He left too quick.

-POV switching to focusing on Win-

Win was still angry. Still jealous. He wanted to be with Team- not some random person. He was the one Team has slept with- in more than one sense of the word- and embraced time and again. He's the one that has always made Team flustered. He's the one who spends all his time with Team. Most of all though, he was angry at himself for taking his closeness with Team for granted. He figured that despite not officially dating Team, that they still belonged to eachother. However he was wrong. Oh so wrong. He didn't want to deal with the hurt so he left. It was still painful but he figured the pain would at least lessen with time in this choice. But when he saw Team crying- he couldn't help but run after him. He needed to know what was wrong with him.

"Team? What happened? Is he okay?" Win inquired basically all in one breath, clearly upset.

Instead of an answer, Win was greeted with a hug from Team which he wasted zero time in hugging back. For a moment, he forgot Pharm and Dean were there. For a moment, Win forgot that Team had a girlfriend. For a moment, it was just the two of them. It felt right to have Team in his arms- it always did. When Team pulled away though, it was as if he had been shot in the heart by reality. It wasn't just the two of them- and it never was either.

Win closed his eyes briefly before speaking, "Team?"

"I'm sorry Win. I should have- I don't know. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me." Win could see how Team tried not to cry while saying this, and so Win pulled him close again.

"Shhh. Team- I could never hate you," Win whispered in Team's ear, "I love you."

Win felt Team pulling away again and then froze. He shouldn't have said that last part. He shouldn't of-

Team cut off his thoughts by kissing him. Win's brain doesn't short circuit often but when it does- it involves Team. And this was definitely was one of those times. So much so that he didn't kiss back until Team seemed to freeze. Once he kissed back though, Team relaxed again. At this, Win once again forgot about Pharm and Dean. He was in his personal heaven right now. Team was not only kissing him, but doing it in front of people. He knew that this was Team's way of responding- kissing was far easier then saying words. They've definitely kissed enough at this point anyway. However, one concern still remained- Kop. So, reluctantly, Win pulled away but he did leave his forehead resting on Team's.

"What about Kop?" Win muttered, afraid of the answer.

Team lightly shook his head, smiled and then replied with, "She's the one who told me I should go after you. So- um- will you be my boyfriend?"

"Thought that was implied?"

"Good."

" Yeah- good- because all I do is win then."

Team groaned at the pun, and Win was in pure bliss. Everything was how it should be. They were together. He would have to remember to thank Kop later.

#uwmaseries #uwma #until we meet again #winteam #teamwin

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kasienda · 5 years ago

Text

An Open Secret - Chapter Four

Alright @ladybuginettes! It’s finally finished. It’s got a ton of Adrien bonding with everyone. And I thank you for your patience. And I hope you and yours are doing well and are healthy.

Chapter 1: A Revelation

Chapter 2: The New Normal

Chapter 3: Advice

Chapter 4: In the Rain

Ladybug and Chat Noir were out for a normal patrol. These mundane patrols had always been Adrien’s favorite part of his week. Vaulting over rooftops with no expectations to meet or city to save felt liberating. He felt so free - like he could fly. When he shot upwards with a press of his staff, for a second he felt like he was. The patrols were also time he spent with Ladybug without fearing for her life. Time where they could just hangout, or play a game of tag. But now, they were even better. Now, the barriers and secrets between them had almost faded away. And that brought a whole new level of freedom because he could be himself. Only himself, and that was enough.

The sky had been overcast, but the weather report had promised it wouldn’t rain. They were halfway across the Parisian skyline when that prediction proved completely false. And it wasn’t a light drizzle that Chat Noir could push himself through. In one moment, the air had been clear, and the next, the sky had opened and a deluge poured down around them like a waterfall. His feline ears flattened against his now soaked blond hair in displeasure. While transformed, few things were worse than rain. He cursed the blasted feline traits that had a tendency to bleed over into his very human life.

Ladybug’s laughter hit him from behind. Usually, he loved the sound, but at the moment it was entirely at his expense. He turned a grumpy frown in her direction.

“It’ll be okay, kitty,” she reassured, and then pointed at the tall building up ahead. “Over there. Follow me?” He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Anything he had to say would probably come out as a hiss in this atrocious weather.

She leapt away, swinging on her yoyo and he was quick to follow her path. He settled down next to her with their backs pressed up against a cold stucco wall under a third story rafter. It was a good spot. They had an expansive view of the city before them, but the roof sloped slightly away so the area stayed dry. Better yet, it was secluded between two other taller buildings without windows. So hopefully, others couldn’t see them well from the street or from other windows.

“Lucky charm,” she whispered. A red and black towel fell into her hands and she offered it to him with a smile. “Tikki’s being surprisingly straightforward for once,” he commented.

“I have found that outside of battle, the charm is usually more straightforward.” “That must be nice,” he muttered as he rubbed the towel through his hair. Cataclysm had few practical applications in his opinion, though Plagg insisted he just wasn’t being creative enough.

With the help of the towel, Chat Noir was able to get dry enough that he lost the desire to arch and bristle. He kept at it until Ladybug dropped down to one spot anyway. At that time, he handed her back the towel and closed his eyes. He felt the buzz of her transformation drop and saw the flash of pink that said her transformation was down through his eyelids. He resented the need to keep his eyes closed, but Tikki was there.

“Hello Chat Noir,” the high-pitched voice greeted. “Hi Tikki,” he said, still keeping his eyes closed. “I’m sorry you got caught in this storm, Chat Noir,” the kwami said with genuine sympathy. “Perhaps your luck has been too good lately, and as the holder of the black cat you needed some bad luck to balance things out.” “I have felt pretty lucky lately,” the part time superhero admitted. And if the cost of that was getting caught out in the rain, he would take on a hundred thunderstorms.

“I’m so glad! You deserve it as you’ve been very sweet to my chosen these past few weeks. She hasn’t been able to talk about anything else!”

“Tikki!” Marinette hissed.

Adrien laughed. It was nice to know that Plagg wasn’t the only kwami to give his chosen grief.

“I’m flattered.”

“I will give her back to you so you can open your eyes. Please tell Plagg that I say hello.” “I’m sure he’ll be delighted.”

“Not that he’ll admit it!” Tikki shot back.

Adrien smiled. It was clear that Tikki and Plagg knew each other well even though he had never actually seen them interact. The buzz along his skin told him Marinette was transforming back. “Okay, you can open your eyes again. Thank you for your patience.” “Anytime.” He opened his eyes to take in her smile.

Then she turned towards the rain. He followed her line of sight. Pounding water droplets hit the rooftops and ground with such force they bounced upwards again, softening the Parisian skyline. Even the street lamps had a glowing aura about them.

He leaned his head back on the cold rough surface of the wall behind them and let his eyes fall closed. The rain was rhythmic and soothing like a cat’s purr. He sighed in contentment. Adrien could appreciate the precipitation more when it wasn’t falling on him and when he was sitting side by side with his lady.

He opened his eyes and glanced towards Ladybug. She stared out with a small satisfied smile on her face. Flickering lights from the street were reflected on the rain drops that still sat on her cheeks. She hadn’t used the towel herself, determined to give him all the time her miraculous would allow.

She had never looked so gorgeous. And he didn’t mean physically, though she was that too. She was just a beautiful human being. One that found beauty in everything, even the rain. He tried to stamp out his line of thinking. She knew how he felt, and nothing had happened. She probably was still in love with whoever it was she had a crush on. He needed to get over her before he ruined everything between them. She glanced at him and her smile widened. He smiled back feeling completely at peace. Even if they were never together, he got to share this moment with her. No one else could have patrols or flying over the city with her. Chat Noir would always be special to her, and he was honestly happier than he had ever been in his life since they figured each other out.

This, whatever this now was, wasn’t all he wanted, but it was enough. “I love the rain,” Ladybug commented, breaking the silence. He looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t known that before. Ladybug had never mentioned it.

“I fell in love in the rain.”

Keep Reading on Ao3 Keep Reading on FF.net

Oh.

If Adrien could have curled up and disappeared into his cat suit, he would have. He had always wanted to know the mystery of the boy she had a crush on, but now, he didn’t. No doubt, he’d at least know this idiot boy. And he didn’t want any jealousy to sour his relationship with Marinette on either side of the mask.

“Tell me about it?” he asked like a masochist that couldn’t help himself.

She smiled fondly into the torrents of rain, as if she was remembering something. “Initially, I didn’t like him at all. I thought he had set up a prank trying to embarrass me. I thought he was just like another classmate I knew who had tormented me for years. I yelled at him and never gave him the chance to explain.” Who could she be talking about? That hardly narrowed down the list at all. He had witnessed firsthand that Marinette had delivered the axe down onto several of their peers when she felt they had done wrong to her or to those she loved.

“And then the next day after school, he apologized,” she continued. “Seems like the right thing to do if he tried to embarrass you.”

“See, that’s just it. He hadn’t tried to embarrass me. I just thought that he had. He had actually been trying to undo the prank that was being played on me.” She turned to him then and stared right at him. “So, the first day I met him, he had been trying to protect me even though he didn’t know me, and I yelled at him for it.

Adrien took in every impassioned word because it was important to her, and therefore it had to be important to him no matter how painful.

“And then,” she continued, “he apologized for upsetting me, for giving me the wrong impression. I remember being struck by the complete sincerity in his eyes. I don’t think I have ever met someone so genuine before or since. “And then, before I could accept his apology, he offered me his umbrella so that I would stay dry.”

He stared at her in shock. He needed to breathe, but his lungs weren’t moving. The whole world faded from his senses.

Because he could see it too. Marinette standing in front of him, her blue eyes wide as she stared at his proffered umbrella. Paris behind her blurred with the pouring down rain. Their hands had touched for just a second. That had been a precious moment for him as well, because that was the moment he knew that they were friends.

Chat Noir looked up at that moment to see Marinette again, this time decked out in the glory of Ladybug’s suit, those same blue eyes that were currently lost in her own memory of that day. Her cheeks flushed with just the slightest pink even as they were framed with her dripping wet pigtails that were plastered to her face.

“It was like he was trying to protect me all over again,” she confided. “Even though as far as he knew, I was still mad and didn’t believe him. Our hands touched in that moment, and after that I was totally lost. It took years before I could utter complete sentences in front of him consistently.” His eyes burned. He had too many feelings. He wanted sob at the needless self-doubt that had plagued him for so long, to cry in glee that everything had aligned so perfectly, to shout his euphoria from the rooftops.

Because she had loved him all along. That was why she had always been so nervous around him as Adrien. She was awkward because she liked him. He had always worried he was doing something wrong, but it was because he was doing something right! “A-are you okay?” she asked, her voice dripping with concern. He nodded, unable to form words around the emotion lodged in this throat. He held up a finger to ask for a minute. He needed to get a hold of himself because he was about to cry. He took a deep breath and turned back to her glassy eyes, realizing that she was going to cry too. He laughed, even as the first tear escaped. “I’m way more than okay. I’m just a little overwhelmed.” “Yeah, I can tell,” she commented, a gloved finger wiping the tear from his cheek gently. She smiled brightly at him.

And that familiar expression helped some of the heaviness dissipate, leaving only giddy lightness behind. “Tell me more,” he asked with a huge grin, wiping the last of his tears away.

She blushed. “Honestly, there’s not a whole lot else to tell. I watched him a lot because I couldn’t manage words. I was a bit obsessive and I’ve done quite a few things I’m not proud of in the name of this crush.” “Yeah?” he prompted, a smirk blooming across his face. He honestly loved that her affections were strong enough to push Ladybug into breaking rules. “Like what?” She glanced away. He could practically feel the heat radiating from her face. “I think the w-worst thing I ever did was s-steal his phone.” He stared at her, baffled. When he said nothing, she pulled her knees up to her chest. He realized she was panicking. “Why?” he made himself ask.

“I left an embarrassing voicemail. It started with stuttering nonsense. Then I thought it was over, but apparently, Al… my best friend left it going, and I may have confessed my crush on him and called yo- I mean, him, a ridiculous pet name.” He couldn’t hold back the grin that split his face. He could picture the scene so clearly. Alya and Marinette up in Marinette’s room. Alya trying to meddle as she apparently did all the time. He wished he could hear it now, though he was glad he hadn’t heard it at the time. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted to Marinette’s interest when he was so caught in his own feelings for Ladybug. “What was the pet name?” “H-hot stuff,” she admitted.

He smirked. He had always told her that she’d find his unmasked face irresistible. “Stop it!” she scolded, as she swatted his arm playfully. “Stop what?” “Looking so pleased with yourself!” He bit his lip, trying not to laugh. The strategy proved unsuccessful. “Chaaaat,” she whined. “What else did you do?” He asked with a grin. Now that he had no reason to fear the identity of her crush, he was completely over the moon. He had no reason to hold his curiosity at bay. He wanted to know everything. Every tiny little gift or attempt at a confession. Every embarrassing misstep if she was willing to share. Because even her mistakes were adorable, and made him love her more if that was possible.

“I have his schedule on my wall.”

“What?” he said flatly. And then grinned again. She was never going to stop surprising him. “I probably know it better than he does.” He didn’t disagree. He had no clue what his schedule was. That was what Nathalie was for. “Why?” he asked. It didn’t bother him, so much as he couldn’t fathom a reason for it. She shrugged. “It made me feel like there was a possibility of running into him during the day to tell him how I felt.” “Why didn’t you?” “For the longest time, I was so nervous around him. Completely tongue-tied. I almost always embarrassed myself horribly before I ever managed to confess any feelings. Other times, I ran away before I could horribly embarrass myself.” “I bet he thought you were cute,” he countered. She blushed. “You think so?”

“It’s what I would have thought,” he assured her, turning towards the rain again, pretending to be nonchalant. “Do you think I should go for it?” she asked. Adrien scoffed from inside his cat suit. “If he turns you down, he’s an idiot.” And he had been an idiot for long enough.

“He’s an attractive idiot,” she teased. He grinned again. “Oh? Should I be jealous?”

She smiled in smug amusement. “Super jealous! Did I tell you he’s a model?”

“Uh oh. You’d better be careful, LB. I hear models can be rather self-absorbed.” “He’s not like that!” she objected.

“He’s not?” Chat whispered, all bravado evaporating from his voice. Raw naked vulnerability took its place. “You don’t think he’s selfish at all?” Startled blue eyes flew towards his. “No, not at all,” she insisted immediately without even a second of hesitation. Adrien looked away back toward the falling rain. The falling water felt ominous and heavy again. “Maybe you don’t know him that well.” Her hand rested gently on top of his own. “I mean, I’ve watched him sacrifice himself for the benefit of others so many times. He’s put himself in harm’s way for me countless times. I think that’s pretty selfless.” “I think he just doesn’t know how to live without you,” he countered, staring up at the rafters above them.

“Chat, look at me.”

He did as she requested. I could never deny her anything.

“Wanting something for yourself doesn’t mean that you’re selfish. Being selfish is more like taking what you want without considering anyone else. He’s like the exact opposite of that. He takes everyone into account first. He doesn’t think of himself often enough. I told you, I fell in love with him because he was kind, because he always goes out of his way to protect others. He’s able to see the potential for good in others even when I struggle. He’s just that genuine.”

He stared at her, his chest was pounding so loudly his feline senses could hear it over the rain. He wanted to cry again. He had almost given her up. And so, all of this was completely unexpected - a shock to his system he was unprepared to take, though he wanted it with every fiber of his being. “Why did you wait so long to tell me this?” he asked. He had confessed to her days and days ago. When she knew that everything was reciprocated, why had she waited?

She turned away, red from her mask spreading into her cheeks. “I-I was afraid.” “Afraid of what?”

Her blue eyes stared out into the monotony of falling water. “What if something happens to him because he’s with me? I mean, if anyone ever found out he was Ladybug’s boyfriend, he’d be a target. In some ways, I think he already is one. I don’t know how I would ever forgive myself if something happened to him because of me.”

He relaxed. Like always, she was keeping secrets to protect those she loved. He never really thought he’d be lucky enough to be on that list. “It wouldn’t be your fault. I’m sure if he loves you, he’d be willing to take the risk.” She turned back to him then, her gaze suddenly piercing. “I know he is. But I still struggle with it.” “You’re still afraid.” He wished she didn’t have to be, but as long as Papillion was free, there’d always be a risk. “I don’t think I’ll ever not be,” she admitted softly.

“So, why didn’t you continue to keep your feelings a secret?” He was so glad she changed her mind on this.

“My best friend pointed out that if something happened to him and I never told him how I felt, I would regret that more. And she was right.” He almost laughed. God, he needed to buy Alya a new laptop or something. She had promised she would come through. And she had more than delivered. “Does she know?” he asked, smiling again.

“That I’m Ladybug?” she shook her head. “No. I think she was baffled by my fear, but she knows that I’ve liked this boy almost since the day we met. And she’s been pushing for me to confess for years. She pushes me and has given me a ton of opportunities, but she also has been so very patient when I didn’t take advantage.” “She sounds like a good friend.”

“The best!” she squealed. Then she sobered. “I’m kinda glad I didn’t confess before now anyway because he didn’t really see me before now. And I didn’t really see him. Now, we can really see each other.” She let her fingertips touch just the tips of his.

He forgot how to breathe for like the third time that night. “You’re right,” he finally managed. “It’s better that you’re both ready now. I hope it works out for you. I can’t imagine that it won’t.”

She turned back to him, her eyes sparkling in mischief. “What do you think we should do?”

“For what?”

“For our first date!” she squealed excitedly. “What do you think he would like?” He smiled. “Maybe you should surprise him.”

…

Nino bobbed his head in time with the baseline of the lofi remix he had been working on for days. His current version emanated from the headphones resting on his shoulders, but there was something missing from the track. Mendeliev wouldn’t let him wear the headphones over his ears in class, but he had learned that if there was a certain amount of bustle and activity, he could get away with listening to the music faintly. He glanced at the clock - there was only two minutes left of the period anyway. He and Adrien had long since finished the lab and cleared away their materials. It was awesome to have a best friend who was so good at science.

The bell rang and there was an immediate flurry of activity as students scrambled to pack up for lunch.

“Nino, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Nino immediately swiveled towards his girlfriend’s sullen voice. “What’s wrong, babe?” She turned her phone towards him. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at the ten day forecast and then another ten seconds to figure out why that was bad. He tried to suck in his disappointment.

“The concert in the park is going to be rained out,” she added unnecessarily.

He hadn’t even considered the weather being a problem! It had been clear skies for like ten days in a row! Why did the rain have to return now, of all times? “Maybe we could exchange our tickets for something else?” she offered. “How about this one?”

“That’s no good!” he countered, glancing through his phone calendar. “That’s bro time!” he explained, as he offered a playful fistbump to Adrien’s shoulder. His friend smiled in response.

“I can always reschedule if you want,” Adrien offered.

“No way, dude! Knowing your old man and his witch of an assistant, I won’t see you outside these walls for another month if I let you reschedule!”

Adrien laughed. “Fair enough.”

Nino noticed at that moment that Marinette had already cleaned up her and Alya’s lab, and was standing in front of Adrien’s desk, writhing her hands. He grinned, offered her a wink, and started pretending that he was looking for something in his backpack. “A-Adrien, I was wondering if you wanted to go get some lunch with me?” “Of course, Mari! Does that sound good to you guys?” Adrien turned towards him and Alya, and Marinette immediately wilted.

Nino shook his head, and pointed his chin back at Marinette. “Dude! I’m sure Mari wants your first date to just be the two of you.” Green eyes went comically wide, and he whirled back to Marinette with a huge grin.

“Date?” She turned bright red, and nodded with a shy smile. Adrien’s smile extended even further, showing off all his perfect glistening white teeth. “Just tell me when and where Nette.”

“How about right now?” “Let’s go!” He offered his hand. She took it and their fingers quickly interlaced. Nino grinned at the sight. He was so happy for both of his friends. “You kids okay without us?” Adrien asked, turning back to him. “We’re chill, dude!” Nino reassured. “Go have fun! We’ll do a double date sometime later.” Alya added. Nino was shocked to see that she wasn’t filming the moment. Maybe Marinette had requested her to not make a big deal of anything.

Adrien turned back to Marinette. “So, what’re we doing?”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing, and her free hand fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Adrien still held her other hand. It was sweet. “I-It’s a surprise!”

“Well, then lead the way!” Adrien prompted. He flashed a huge grin to Nino and Alya as he grabbed his bag and followed Marinette’s gentle tugs to get him out the door faster. “It’s still so weird to see you get nervous,” Adrien was saying. “What are you talking about?” Marinette bantered back easily. “You’ve seen me a stuttering mess a million times.” “Maybe, but I’ve also seen you…” Adrien trailed off as the door closed behind them. Nino stared at the closed door considering their two friends. Alya was right. Adrien and Marinette had become so close so fast, and they had a weird dynamic where sometimes they seemed oddly nervous and other times way too comfortable with each other.

“I still don’t really know what happened with them,” Alya commented. “Are you okay with that?” he asked, turning towards her. She shrugged. “The curiosity is literally burning inside me, but I’ll live.”

“You’re a good friend,” he told her as he pulled her against him. “And a good girlfriend I hope?” she asked with a delighted gleam in her eyes. “The absolute best girlfriend.” “Good! Because I have something for you,” she said, pulling away just slightly to retrieve a flat wrapped parcel from her bag.

He took the gift from her hands. “What’s this for?” She shrugged. “Nothing in particular. Just that I love you and this just kinda fell in my lap. And I thought you would like it. And if you don’t, well, you can give it back to me because I love it!”

He tore off the tissue paper, his curiosity piqued. He revealed the charcoaled drawing of Carapace and Rena Rouge. She was leaning in towards him, about to kiss. Carapace was grinning in anticipation with a supportive hand on her waist. The curve of Rena’s jawline, her foxtailed hair, her gloved hand laying gently on his chest, the joy in Carapace’s eyes were rendered in astounding detail.

“Wow,” was all he could think to say. He was going to have to make Alya like the most epic remixed hip hop playlist to say thank you for this.

“I commissioned Marinette actually,” Alya explained.

He grinned, his eyes taking in each carefully constructed detail. “If we ever get a place together, this is going up on a wall!”

“Moving in together?! Moving a little fast for a turtle there, aren’t you?”

Nino shrugged. “You haven’t thought about it?” he countered.

Alya’s cheeks darkened, and she glanced away.

He grinned, carefully set Marinette’s latest masterpiece on his desk, and then slowly pulled Alya to him with a hand on her waist trying to enact the portrait. Today was looking very up!

...

Plagg phased through a park bench, glanced around to be sure no one was around, and floated upward to nestle next to his other half. She currently perched quietly in the naked tree branches. They were somewhat exposed, but anyone looking from a distance would no doubt just see what they expected to see - two birds sitting on a tree branch rather than two kwamis overlooking their chosen.

The two teenagers were sitting side by side on the park’s bench eating ice cream despite the freezing temperature. Adrien tipped his tower of cream until it just briefly made contact with Marinette’s nose.

She shrieked in objection. And then promptly shoved Adrien’s Ladybug themed ice cream back into his own grinning face.

“Aren’t they sweet together?” Tikki commented with a deep sigh of contentment, her bulbous eyes sparkling in pure joy at the innocent scene below them.

“Is that why you haven’t ratted them out to Fu?” Plagg asked. He wasn’t teasing. He needed to know where his partner stood on this. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the kwami of creation said airily, her eyes never straying from the children below who were now lost in a fit of giggles.

Plagg snorted. “Right, and camembert is the worst kind of cheese on this planet.”

“I knew you’d see sense eventually!” Tikki squealed, “Would you like to try one of Marinette’s macaroons? They come in every flavor you could ever want and every one of them is amazing!”

He gagged.

And then whipped in front of her. “Seriously Sugarcube, you’re not going to ruin this for them, are you?”

Tikki did the kwami equivalent of a shrug. “Order is important, and rules are necessary to maintain order. But nothing is more important than love, Plagg. Plus, it’s really nice to see her get these moments of happiness. She is too young for this burden.”

Plagg relaxed, and allowed himself to settle on the branch. Tikki wouldn’t say anything. “You always say that.”

“It’s always true! Plus, they are doing a remarkable job of pretending they don’t know.”

Plagg laughed. “No, they’re not. They’re pathetically obvious. I’m shocked that blogger girl hasn’t figured it out.”

Tikki sighed. “I just mean that they haven’t explicitly said it out loud even to one another. And until they do, there is a small sliver of doubt. And I can’t ask because if I do, I give it away. So, until one of them actually says something, there’s no reason to mention it to Fu.”

Plagg grinned. Tikki had a way of rationalizing and twisting the letter of the law into her favor when the spirit of a law didn’t suit her. Plagg also suspected that if the kids did completely slip up, she still wouldn’t say anything to Fu. She was more likely to pretend she had fallen asleep and missed whatever incriminating thing had been said.

Plagg grinned again and nuzzled up against his other half. “I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking eventually! Rules are made to be broken. Maybe someday you’ll even be able to appreciate the amazingness of camembert.” “Keep dreaming, stinky sock!”

…

A/N: Thanks for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Reviews/Comments/Reblogs are love!

#miraculous ladybug fan fiction #adrinette #ladynoir #post reveal #pre relationship #mostly fluff #clearing up misunderstandings #happy ending #tikki is willing to break rules sometimes #plagg always #love #An Open Secret #For Ladybuginettes #In the Rain

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kat-hawke · 5 years ago

Text

Qwor wgah za kaaxth

(Following [Open Doorways] These events run in tandem with [Darkened Woods, Darkened Vale], which provides Alyssa’s point of view.)

The assault on the Vale of Eternal Blossoms had heightened since her last visit. The Old God’s influence spread wider and likely deeper, the count of eyes and gaping maws had increased tenfold. Tendrils of various sizes twisted and restricted the landscape, armies of N’Zoth were now embedded across the landscape, torment camps and ritual sites peppered the Vale.

Lingering on the rocky overlook from the secret mountain pass Kat looked upon the land below as Pandaren, Horde, and Alliance forces all clashed with the twisted minions in the clearing between the Shrines. For now, neither side gained any ground, the Golden Pagoda appeared to be the choke point that the denizens of Azeroth couldn’t seem to pass.

‘Gul'kafh an'shel. Yoq'al shn ky ywaq nuul.’ The dark whisper clawed at her mind as she watched the horrors below.

Eyes squeezed shut with an groan of discomfort, fingers pinching the inner corners and rolling softly as if hoping to relieve a headache which did not exist. Whispers and illusions had grown stronger over the last couple weeks but Kat continued to ignore the warnings. Shaking her head with a heavy breath she slipped the dark leather hood over her head and began her descent along the mountain edge.

The pull of the void grew with each step she took, feeling as if the massive eyes protruding from the patches of dark flesh within the valley were staring right through her soul. For the first time since Kat had flung her into the wall Alyssa spoke up.

"This makes it harder to preserve the power you've put into the dagger."

Kat could feel the subtle tugs of the woman within the dagger working to preserve both sanity and soul.

"I have faith in your strength." Spoken without sarcasm, in a hardly recognizable sincere tone as she leapt across a weathered crack in the narrow stone path.

It took a moment before Alyssa responded, having been caught off guard. “Thank you. Work quickly. I will hold off the worst of it.”

"Quickly is the idea, but we'll see.” Her gaze scanned the burial grounds as she came to a halt on a small outcrop, crouching low in hopes of remaining undetected. “There's a lot more here than before. I'd say stay put, but."

"I wouldn't listen if I was there in person."

Slowly Kat nodded beneath the hood, muttering a soft ‘exactly’ under her breath before continuing the descent. Shadows shifted with life as they were pulled over the Director’s figure like a cloak, keeping to the outskirts of the burial grounds all the same as she speculated the larger Faceless would see right through her magic.

Pausing for a moment she quickly scanned the area, spotting on the far end a set of three ancient pandaren souls which had been pulled into this realm by the two k’thir who worked to twist the center most soul. Dispatching them wouldn’t be a problem, but the increased number of beheaders and faceless since the last excursion were a problem.

Eyes narrowed as she pieced together a plan to move, her thoughts interrupted by a whisper that dragged across the mind like nails on a chalkboard.

‘Nothing you do is beyond my sight.’

Immediately Kat snapped her gaze to the left, finding the source of the insidious whisper. A single orange eye floating in the air, staring the director down, seeing straight through her shadowy stealth.

“Shit.”

With the single curse uttered she let a knife fly, the blade finding its mark in the center of the eye. With a piercing shrill the orb shriveled inward on itself until evaporating in a cloud of red and black smoke. The sound of its demise altering the forces around. Black beady eyes and helmet covered visages all turning to the Director’s position.

A tone of annoyance hung on her breath as the cloak of shadows was cast aside. Gloved fingers collecting the mechanical hilts from either hip. Thumbs flicked against the switches at the top of each, snapped the wrists to spin the hilts over as they unfolded for a second before fingers pulled them whole again. The blade within springing from the hidden position to unfold to the full extent with a click.

The first enemy charged; one of the human beheaders, the sword scrapping along the stones as it gained speed. Closing it raised the weapon overhead, bringing the sword down where the Director stood. A skillful pivot on one leg evaded the attack, using the momentum to dart forward in a low stance and drag her own blade across the beheader’s knee. Metal scrapped against metal as the attack proved ineffective.

Her opponent swung a second time, bringing the sword around in one hand as it turned to face her. The opportunity to strike was slim but Kat took it, lifting one of her own swords to catch the attack. The folding blades couldn’t withstand a direct parry against the larger blade and Kat knew it, angling her’s so the barbed guard of the blade would catch.

As the weapons sung in their collision she capitalized on the kinetic energy, forcing the beheader’s arm up and over as she ducked beneath. The second sword lunging upward where the plate armor ceased to exist under the arm. Dark, almost black blood spewed from the wound as the blade receded from it’s strike, the Director stepping away in the half spin and shoving the opponent away. The larger form crashed to the ground with a heavy thump, starting to push itself up no sooner than it had hit the stones.

Both swords were held in one hand as fingers swept over the azerite stone that hung around the neck, drawing the stored energy into the palm, the euphoric sensation coursing through the Director’s very core. Fingers curled inward as the arm reached outward towards the struggling foe, the blast of fire singeing the glove as it snuffed out the twisted minion.

With a cant of the head her attention turned to the next set of approaching challengers, tossing the sword back to the hand before moving in. Sounds of blades colliding filled the air, magical discharge after discharge scared the surrounding landscape and armor of herself and foe alike.

After several long moments she stood victorious over the half dozen bodies, panting heavily as she scanned the area for any further threats but none were to be found.

‘For every one you cut down a dozen more will take their place.’

The booming voice caught her off guard, causing her to stagger where she stood, boots shuffling on the stone to maintain her balance. Eyes shutting for a moment as the nose wrinkled up, ignoring the voice despite the urge to respond. Slowly her gaze lifted to the obsidian well the followers had constructed. A red hue radiated from within as a large stone tablet hovered in the air above, flanked by shattered pieces of tables on either side.

There was something beckoning Kat towards the well, tugging invisible strings she couldn’t help but follow. One foot in front of the other she moved closer, incoherent whispers flicking against the hears with each step she took. The brief moment of respite from fighting let her guard drop, distracted by the urge to investigate the potential power stored within the well.

The moment of mental fixation came to an abrupt end as the massive arm of a faceless dominator crashed into her side, sending the Director’s tumbling across the stones, swords knocked from her hands and sliding to either side. Dazed and disoriented Kat tried rushing to her feet, head still spinning from the blow as she staggered to a stand. Seeing double of the foe that rushed she tried to discharge another blast of azerite, choosing the wrong target from the two and missing completely.

Wasting the small window of opportunity the faceless came crashing down upon her. The three “fingers” of the largest hand wrapping firmly around her head, the leather hood doing little in the way of protection as it was torn from the armor. Like a vice the tentacles constricted around the skull and upper body, screams of pain muffled against the dark flesh. The monstrous creature flaying her mind within it’s grasp, speaking in the guttural tongue.

‘Sk'shuul agth vorzz N'Zoth naggwa'fssh.’

Writhing within the creatures grasp she choked and struggled for air, the challenge greater as her mind was assaulted. Memories pulled apart and reconstructed in horrific visions. One hand anxiously patted around the belt, searching for another blade, anything to try and free herself with.

A screech one could only associate with anger came from the faceless being as it slammed the Director into the ground within it’s hold. The resulting shock wave knocking the air from her lungs and clouding the mind. The overwhelming sensation of the void pouring into her thoughts tore through her very core, the body naturally rejecting the invasion.

‘Gul'kafh an'qov N'Zoth.’

Reality shattered as Kat’s vision was flooded with a vision of the Sleeping City. Dark obsidian and red hues twisted into view, wicked temples and obelisks stretching as far as the eye could see. Devotees and acolytes moving through the chiseled streets. Massive maws opened from the rivers of blood, countless minions of the Old God pouring from the open hole.

‘KYTH ag'xig yyg'far IIQAATH ONGG!’

Sanity began to crumble as her physical form curled up in the pain. Screams were drowned out by the creatures hold as the vision within continued to twist and grow. Sinister eyes now focusing on her within the mental space, the feeling of loss becoming overwhelming with each passing second. Fear set in as hopelessness washed over the breaking psyche.

A desperate plea was made, one final act before accepting the end. The azerite crystal on her neck was nearly depleted, unsure if enough energy remained to break the strong grasp of the faceless. Drawing upon what little she could find without physically reaching the vision slowed, buying precious seconds of clarity that couldn’t go to waste.

Without hesitation one hand reached across the waist to the dagger sheathed on the thigh. Breaking it free with a swift tug and sinking it into the pulsating arm of the faceless beast. It was a high risk move that put Alyssa directly in harm’s way, a risk she was willing to take if it meant survival.

Another round of ear piercing shrills emanated from the dominator as it dropped the Director against the solid ground and stumbled backwards. The other arm of the creature was nothing more than a single tendril which proved unable to grasp the dagger for removal, not that it could anyway.

Sucking in a deep breath as she clenched the leather at her chest Kat laid on the stone and shifted her gaze to the dagger. It’s glow growing brighter as it siphoned the life force from the faceless, a fleeting moment of panic for the warlock within crossed the Director’s mind as she watched the creature crash to the ground in a shriveled and colorless husk.

Pushing herself to her feet as she panted Kat stumbled her way towards the fallen creature, sounds of footsteps behind her prompting her attention to shift over the shoulder. A sigh of defeat rolled over the lips as she spotted another group of beheaders making their way down from the upper level of the burial ground.

As quickly as her feet would allow Kat scrambled for the soul-bound weapon, tugging it free from the withered flesh of the faceless and attempting to draw power from the blade itself. She was met with resistance as the warlock within refused to let her have the dark energy which had been siphoned.

"No. You're out of balance, you can't have this." Alyssa’s voice quickly called out.

Spinning around the face approaching foes Kat growled beneath her breath, panic gracing her tone. "Fucks sake, now is not the time to be greedy!"

"It's not greed, this thing is pure void and insanity, you can't have this in your current state."

Beheaders were only a few steps away, the Director shouting aloud and within their telepathic connection as her eyes widened in alarm. "Alyssa!"

Whatever the warlock had said in response was lost as Kat focused solely on the power that was relinquished to her. Greedily she absorbed everything, forcing every once of energy back across the blade as it swept across the air. Each foot moved to carry the motion to completion, the amount of power that arced across the arm seared pain that reached her core, a deafening scream was let out but did little to ease the pain.

A wave of dark matter cut through the air where the dagger trailed, rushing forward in a large sweeping arc. The volatile strike cleaved the beheaders in half at the waist, moving through the foes until it reached the torment cells beyond. Unfortunately for the innocent pandaren hostages within, the cells gave way to the blast, resulting in the prisoners also sheared in two.

Weak and drained Kat collapsed to the ground again, catching herself on the hands and knees as the dagger clattered to the ground beside her. Vision blurred as she fought to catch her breath, bile lurching upward and spewing on the stones as she coughed. The left arm was completely numb, remnants of the void burns smoldering on the destroyed leather.

Heaving a few more breaths she looked to the dagger beside her, the pale glow of the soul within was much dimmer now than it had ever been before. “No...” Was all she could manage to get out, just barely above a whisper as a shaking hand reached for the hilt of the blade.

Sitting back on her haunches she pulled the dagger into her lap, staring with worry to the faint glow of the engravings. Swallowing hard between her heavy breaths she reluctantly asks, “Alyssa?”

"Here," Alyssa replies almost immediately, though a bit exhausted. "Over?"

Kat’s head rolled back with a weak smile as a faint feeling of relief washed away the previously held concern. “Yeah, let’s just get what we came for.”

"Thank goodness," some clear relief in her tone as well. "That got bad. I could use a top up if you find anything uncorrupted to stab."

"Doubtful.” Kat’s gaze shifted to the cleaved Pandaren on the other side of the field. “Just make do."

Pushing herself to stand as Alyssa responded with a simple ‘I'm good at that.’ Kat took a moment to regain her bearings, moving slowly at first as her body raced to catch up in its current condition. Collecting the swords she had lost in the scuffle they were folded inward and the hilts were returned to the clips on the belt.

Attention turned then to the ancient pandaren souls she had come for, making her way to the disturbed graves were the golden incorporeal forms hung in the air over head. Drawing the Gilnean dagger again she sunk it into the heart of a soul, watching with hunger as it was drained.

[ @alyssa-ward ] [ Slight relevance: @simplysoriya ]

(Chapter I: Dark Secrets) ( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] [pt.VI] )

#ic #plotlines #Descent #pt.VII

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livingmybestfictionallife · 6 years ago

Text

Girl Across the Street

Request: Pls make one with Klaus and a girl next door and she’s the one that comforts him when he’s having his nightmares and she has been there since he was a child thank u --@crayon12

Tags: @crayon12, @multifandom-ramblings, @bisexual-with-adhd, @ne0n-gh0st

Reginald Hargreeves had died and all of a sudden, the chaos and craziness that seemed to engulf (y/n)’s childhood had resurfaced overnight.

It was interesting, growing up next to The Umbrella Academy. It seemed that the kids didn’t have much of a normal childhood, but they snuck out more than the average children and teenagers did to make up for it. (Y/N) could remember times toward the end of the nineties when she would catch a glimpse of the seven Hargreeves siblings hurrying through the darkness in the streets below with frantic and eager looks on their faces as they made their way toward Griddy’s Doughnuts. To her dismay, they had run by time and time again and never seemed to pay much attention to the girl sitting at her bedroom window, wanting nothing more than to join them on their late night doughnut escapades...that was until one night when she caught the eye of one of the young Hargreeves boys.

As his siblings continued on--Diego and Luther in a full on sprint, Allison following along, while Five, Vanya, and Ben walked in a civilized manner along the sidewalk--Klaus’s eyes had drifted from their locked position on his final destination, and landed on the figure looming in the window. At first, the pale moonlight against the window’s dirty glass made his heart skip a beat and he froze in his tracks. The figure resembled the haunting features of the spirits he’d come to be all too familiar with, but with a couple steps closer, and as soon as (Y/N) had cracked her bedroom window open, he could make out the features of a living person.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he had asked while standing outside of the single story structure, stepping forward only to help the girl by the arm as she tried to shimmy out of her window. All in all, it was a simple gesture. Inviting someone along on an adventure to gorge themselves with sugary bread wasn’t the grandest of ways to make friends, but for Klaus--having only been surrounded by his siblings--meeting (y/n) was a pivotal moment in his young life. There was no way for either of them to know what exactly would come from that one moment of rebellion (y/n) displayed or that slight terror from Klaus that froze him in his tracks long enough to notice her in the first place, but it would develop into something neither wanted to lose.

It wasn’t long after their first meeting that Klaus began to sneak out at night without his siblings. Even at nine years old, he would slip through the window of his room, quietly rush down the fire-escape, and tap eagerly on (y/n)’s window until she opened it enough for him to come inside. In those days, the talk between the two was simple, but as time progressed, the secrets shared became personal and led to a deeper bond between the pair.

As they entered their teen years though, Klaus’s visits became more and more frequent than they had been in the earlier days of their friendship. The fun they had together had become more flirtatious than playful and music still ensued, but (y/n)’s presence quickly became something Klaus needed as much as he needed air to breath. He didn’t know how to admit it to anyone, let alone his father, but his powers terrified him. Sleep was nonexistent. Every corner of his mind was filled with gory remnants of lives that had once walked the earth, but now tormented every second of his young life. (Y/N) was enough of a distraction emotionally to keep his demons at bay, but she knew it was only a matter of time before Klaus couldn’t handle this on his own.

Klaus’s visits had always been the highlight of (y/n)’s day. Staying up till the early morning hours with the mysterious and hilarious boy from across the street, listening to Nirvana, Blink-182, Green Day, and MCR had given her something to look forward to in her bland, uneventful, and seemingly unimportant life. Even Klaus had become more and more eager to risk his father's anger to be with (y/n). At least with her he didn’t have to hide behind a destructive demeanor. At least with her he could relax and ignore the voices that always seemed to be screaming at him.

The nightmares he’d spoken about were one thing; she could help him get to sleep, mostly by running her fingers through his hair, reminding him he was safe, and letting him curl up beside her whenever he needed to, but coping with the problems he had that stemmed from seeing the dead was something else. She could tell he was trying to be strong and happy with his only true friend--the only human connection he had with someone his age that didn’t live under the same roof as him--but she was tired of him feeling like he had to put up a front around her.

October 31st had always been a bad day for Klaus. He wasn’t frightened by the ridiculous costumes children wore, but the knowledge that the next two days would lead to the most activity his powers sees on any given day was enough to break him. He spent his life hiding behind the facet destructive and chaotic, but he was breaking, and (y/n) knew it. It was only about eight-thirty and she was setting up the VHS player to watch Psycho with Klaus, as they did every Halloween night since they were eleven, when she heard a crashing sound come from her bedroom. Rushing to her room and dropping the large bowl of popcorn she had made for her and Klaus to share, she noticed her best friend curled up in his usual spot in her bed with a frantically panicked look on his face.

“Klaus?” she asked as she took in his appearance and slid onto the bed beside him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his eyes were bloodshot, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Klaus, what’s going on?” Even with the concern and panic in her voice, Klaus refused to speak. All he could do was place his long arms around her body and pull her so close to him she was falling on top of him. In his trembling grasp, (y/n) quickly connected the dots of what had to have had him so overwhelmed. In pagan beliefs, today was the day that demons roamed the earth. The next two days in hispanic culture were the celebration of Dia de los Muertos, two days where the veil between life and death was lifted and loved ones honored their passed family members while the dead, supposedly, walked amongst the living. Seeing Klaus’s current debilitating demeanor, and remembering all of the times he’d seemed overly frightened during their Psycho movie night, (y/n) had an undeniable curious feeling that those beliefs were true and had been plaguing Klaus throughout his entire life.

“I’m so sorry,” he said to her in between gasps of air as he sobbed against her soft hair. “I know I promised...I know I said I wouldn’t...” His hands were trembling as she pulled away for a moment to look into his sad green eyes.

“Klaus,” she sighed lightly, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. He’d been open in telling her about his experimentation with drugs to suppress his powers, to keep the nightmares at bay, and she’d told him that if he ever needed her to just make it known. She didn’t want to lose him to a life she couldn’t follow him into.

“Don’t hate me. Everyone already hates me, please don’t hate me,” he said with tears in his eyes. Something must have happened at home, she thought as he pleaded with her. After all the years of knowing Klaus, (y/n) knew he only sought reassurance of his worth or affirmation and love after an altercation with his father.

“I don’t hate you Klaus,” she sighed and leaned into his side again to pull him back into a hug. “I can never hate you. I just don’t want you going through this alone.”

“All I am is alone in this, (y/n),” he sighed while pushing away from her for the first time in his life. “Only I can see them. Only I can hear them. It’s a nightmare! It’s my nightmare! I can’t--”

“Hey, hey,” she said softly while swinging herself around on the bed and perching herself over his legs. As she sat on his thighs and looked directly into his eyes, (y/n) tried to calm him by placing each of her hands on either side of his cheeks, “look at me.” In the darkness of the unlit bedroom, (y/n) could see his eyes latch on hers like they had so many years ago when he first saw her staring through the window. “I’m not going anywhere. I will always be here. I will never leave you alone. No matter what, I will never hate you, Klaus Hargreeves.” Without realizing what he was doing, Klaus's hands mirrored (y/n)’s and rested on her soft cheeks for a moment before he pressed his lips to hers.

That moment, the first time Klaus had kissed her, was what lingered in (y/n)’s mind as Klaus’s adoptive brother Diego stood on her doorstep. She had always intended to move, but when her parents decided to retire on the opposite side of the country, (y/n) remembered the promise she made to a scared, skinny teenager over a decade ago. Even though Klaus chose a path she couldn’t continue with him, she always made it apparent that she would be there for him. It took her by surprise just how much to heart he took her statement, but one morning after her parents moved and she was late for work, when she received a call from an unknown number saying a patient named Klaus Hargreeves had used her as an emergency contact, she realized he had at least listened to her promises.

“As are you,” she replied with a bite in her tone.

“Your still here,” Diego said with what seemed like a sigh of relief, but his tone came across with a tinge of bitterness.

“I-” Diego was quick to let his defensive guard down as he looked into the eyes of the only person he knew could help his brother. “He needs you,” he said after gathering his thoughts and repositioning himself so that his weight wasn’t leaning on his forward most foot, as if preparing to counter an attack. As kids, Klaus had told (y/n) all about his siblings and their tendencies, and she remembered him describing Diego--especially into the middle and end of their teenage years--to be a bit of a hot head. “He’s--”

“Did he get himself locked up again?” (y/n) asked as Diego struggled to get the words out. As soon as he shook his head she again tried to determine the situation. “Did he OD again?” she continued. “If Klaus took my name off from his emergency contact list, I’ll fucking kill him,” (y/n) grumbled while shuffling in her doorway anxiously.

“He’s tied up in a chair losing his shit trying to get sober,” Diego somehow explained without explaining shit. “When we were kids he’d always say there was only one person on this earth who accepted him--and we just thought it was Klaus being Klaus, the dramatic shit he was, you know--but I know it was you. He thought he was being secretive sneaking away from the group one the nights we ran off, or leaving the academy every night without fail from the time he was twelve until you left for college, but Klaus is Klaus."

“It’s like he’s got a neon arrow hanging over his head begging for people to look at him,” (y/n) continued. “Only for the past few years, no one has paid him any attention,” she added with guilt flowing in her tone.

(Y/N) didn’t know what to expect when Diego opened the door to the room Klaus was in, but for some reason she wasn’t actually expecting the truth. The room was dark and dusty and Klaus was a sweaty mess, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on why he was there, but also trying--unsuccessfully--to shun the terrifying faces from his sight. She had seen him a few times in their adult lives, mostly lying in hospital beds or bailing him out of jail, but even then he seemed more himself, more playful and kind, than in the single glance she had just taken at him.

“Don’t blame yourself. I don’t think he would have wanted that for you. Right now though, I’m not any help,” Diego stated while taking half a step back and turning his torso so that a straight path from (y/n)'s house to the academy was made.

“I brought someone I thought could help,” Diego said in a tone that clearly oozed a mixture of concern and passiveness--as if he wasn’t sure how to speak to his brother during a moment like this. Klaus’s drooping head swung from one side to another and he groaned with irritation.

“I don’t want Luther, Allison, or even Five’s help,” he muttered. “They don’t get it! No one ever has,” he said the last part softly to himself.

“No one?” (y/n) questioned and took a step forward while following Diego into the room.

“(Y/N)?” Klaus said her name with such a gentleness the word barely escaped his lips. He felt the guilt he’d harbored that Halloween night, the first time he had let her down, boil to the surface after having been repressed for so long. Since she left town for school, since he’d fallen into his addiction, he’d made a point to not bring her into his troubles unless absolutely necessary. He didn’t want to have the one person--the one living person--he’d cared about to see him in the same light his family did: a useless waste of life. Seeing her before him not only brought up the guilt of having let her down, but the poignant feeling that came from banishing her from his life, of leaving someone he had grown to depend on for his own selfish reasons, and the guilt of the emotions that flowed into his consciousness that tore him between his emptiness from Dave’s death, and a sense of fulfillment in having her back. “How did you--?”

“In all those years you thought no one was paying attention to you, I suppose Diego was,” (y/n) said through the damp air of the room. “Care to explain the bondage?” she asked with a coy grin, figuring it best to restore the banter between the two before getting down the the nitty gritty of why Diego had brought her there.

“Oh, just figured I’d try something new,” he sighed with a lighthearted grin as (y/n) lowered herself down to crouch beside him as Diego disappeared into the shadows.

“Is it really that new?" she asked lightly. “I remember us trying something similar about ten years ago,” she whispered with a smirk in her voice.

“I’ve gotta get clean. It’s the only way,” he stated so matter-of-factly, so seriously, that (y/n) knew there would be no way to convince him otherwise.

“The only way to what?” she asked, her voice changing from the playful tone they’d both been using to reflect the more serious one Klaus had just expressed.

“To see him,” Klaus replied, his voice now slipping from seriousness to desperation. (Y/N) could nearly see the sorrow spreading within his chest and hated the image of his pained eyes welling with tears.

“To see who, Klaus?” she asked gently while lightly touching part of his arm visible beneath the restraints.

“Dave,” he sighed with longing in his voice. There was a strike of pain in her chest as she heard the way he spoke this man’s name, a pain she had known all too well as jealousy. Even in their youth, Klaus wasn’t exactly chaste, and his experimentation with drugs wasn’t the only thing he embarked on to diminish the horrors within his mind. Throughout her adult life, (y/n) would think back to her moments with Klaus and became so overwhelmed by the pain of hopeless jealousy whenever she thought of where he had to be now, that she hated the thought of the person he had become, although she knew she could never actually hate the man himself.

“Tell me about him,” she urged. Her soft touch on his skin was something he had forgotten when he tried to forget about her. Aside from Dave, he'd never been handled so gently, or at least he forgot he had been.

“He was so kind and gentle and pure,” he sighed and dropped his head to where his eyes were almost level with (y/n)’s. He stared into her soul as she looked back into those damned green orbs she’d fallen for so many years ago. “You would have liked him, (y/n). He was so good to me too. I didn’t deserve him, I know that, but I…I loved him, (y/n).” She could see a single tear slide from Klaus’s face as he stared at the girl he’d ran from all those years before, ironically for the exact reason that lead him to running toward Dave.

“I’m sure he loved you too, Klaus,” (y/n) reassured him with a gentle and genuine smile as she tried to hide a hurt within her. “How could he not?” she sighed while gently grasping her hand around his. “Just remember him. One memory, that’s all.” Once again, the man before her squeezed his eyes shut in desperation, in pain, as a reminder of why he was strapped in a chair forcing himself to detox cold turkey, only to jerk his head up at a sound he knew neither (y/n) nor Diego could hear. His eyes flicked toward the door as heavy boots clanked against the creaking wooden floor.

“Dave,” he sighed . His tear stained cheeks and welled up eyes met that of the man he’d lost only moments ago, but for the man whose gaze he held, it had been over thirty years since seeing the soldier foolish enough to follow him to the front lines—the one who had captured his heart.

“You did it,” he sighed gently, knowing only Klaus could hear him but was still wary of the other people in the room: a man huddled in a dark corner and a woman crouched beside the man he loved.

“I did it,” Klaus sighed with relief as the biggest smile he could muster spread across his cheeks, causing (y/n) to follow his line of sight. Dave could swear the woman was looking him in the eye, but he knew better. He knew that she was looking at nothing but an empty space in an empty room. In this moment, he was solely Klaus’s. “I’ve missed you,” Klaus said softly while turning his head as Dave approached him.

“She’s right you know,” Dave said gently as he looked down at the man before him and glanced at the woman knelt beside Klaus. “It’s impossible to not love someone as crazy as you.”

(Y/N) could see Klaus’s gaze drift to the opposite side of his body and assumed Dave had made his way closer. It wasn’t until Klaus’s eyes drifted from the spirit lingering on his right toward her, as she remained in her spot on his left, did she realize their conversation had been directed toward her.

“I should have said it then,” Klaus said with regret in his soul.

“You didn’t have to,” Dave explained. “I knew.” He straightened his posture and smiled helplessly at the man he’d spent his last moments with.

“You always knew more than about me than I did,” Klaus said with a giddy grin overtaking his demeanor.

“I still do,” Dave smiled with a compassionate glance at the woman whose hand Klaus was still clenching as if his life depended on it. Immediately Klaus’s face fell into that of regret and guilt, and Dave was quick to stoop down and look him in the eyes. “Don’t,” he said so softly Klaus could almost feel the phantom’s breath against his skin. “Don’t do that to yourself. You deserve to be happy,” he explained with a small tear streaming down his cheek. “Besides, I like her. She helped you bring me back, at least to say a proper goodbye.”

“Dave, it’s—" Klaus’s voice seemed panicked and rushed to (y/n) as she tried not to listen in on the one-sided conversation, but was unable to join Diego in the background due to the grip Klaus had on her hand. She was an anchor for him--in his emotions, in his powers, and in the chaos of his everyday life--whether or not either of them realized it.

“Shh,” Dave silenced the chaotic chatterbox that randomly appeared during the most treacherous moments of his life. “You will move on eventually, Klaus. It’s only normal to. You have a lifetime ahead of you. I’m just glad you made a brief appearance in mine. But you moving on doesn’t mean I’ll ever leave you or that you will ever forget me. I guess all I’m saying is that she seems patient enough to put up with your shit.”

Once more, Klaus glanced down at (y/n) and tried to suppress the guilt he had for abandoning her, especially now that he realized her promise of never leaving him was so serious that she was here, nearly twelve years later, helping him conjure his lost love as he now realized that he was more than likely hers.

#klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #number four #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #robert sheehan

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saintshinsou · 5 years ago

Text

“LAST TIMES” (1/2)

anonymous: yo can I get a request of overhaul being betrayed and abandoned by his s/o, who like helped free eri but because she still doesn’t trust heroes, joins the league of villains. Basically I want overhaul to get his ass beat for everything he did to eri by the person he loves lmao. (Bonus points if his s/o gives no shits about him after all he did)

authors note: this is so??? obnoxiously long?? IM SO SORRY. there will for sure be the part two where she betrays his ASS but i just wanted to build up, you know?? like THIS is why she’s gonna do what she’s about to do 😤

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, it was supposed to end differently. Overhaul had it all planned out for the two of them since the day he laid eyes on Y/N, step by step, detail after detail. Y/N was doing so well, being so good at following him along the destructive path he laid out for them even if it meant constantly losing pieces of herself along the way. The great cost, the end result of a perfect world Chisaki always promised her, always swayed her into forgiving him — knowing that they’d be happy together once this would all blow over.

She found herself reaching her breaking point soon, though.

With her own quirk, regeneration, came many experiments at Overhaul’s commands. They’d all center around the objective to see how far her quirk could be pushed, how much damage she could take before it would slow down and completely shut down. It was to test if it was a necessary quirk or not, Overhaul had vaguely explained to her when she confronted him one day after a long and painful day of having her body shot at multiple times.

It was proven easy for her to regret using up all her energy to trudge towards his office, slowing down her quirk’s work on healing her wounds in the process and leaving her to dirty the carpet that Chisaki had taken so much pride in having clean.

“We need to see if we really need this sickness on our side or if we should just eliminate it from you.”

Overhaul’s words served like a cd stuck on repeat, throwing her the same useless explanation he had been for the last couple of days with no emotion. Y/N took note of the way his gaze stayed focused on the pools of blood staining his floor while he idly sat at his desk, his priority being that instead of moving to help his significant other bleeding at his side.

“Please. No more, Overhaul.” Y/N pleaded as she weakly fell to her knees, her body completely drained from her futile effort to come here and beg for mercy from her tormenter.

All the claims of eternal love and sweet promises he whispered to her before seemed to mean nothing now when she processed that she going through all this pointless pain because of him. Glancing up at him through her eyelashes when she heard the smallest movement in the office chair, a tiny flame of false hope ignited inside her heart at the idea that he would take her in his arms and tell her that this was it, today was the last experiment day and he’d clean her right up, healing all the wounds that her own body was too weak to fix at the moment.

She was wrong. Extremely wrong.

Y/E/C eyes, sore from crying, helplessly watched Chisaki’s hand make its way for her hair, lovingly leaning into his touch while his fingers played with the strands of her blood and sweat drenched hair. It would be deemed small action to an outsider, something that would usually happen casually in any relationship but not with him. Never with him. This was one of the many actions, a tender moment, that she would cherish forever despite the circumstances; that is, until the next few seconds.

Y/N’s bruised body had slowly continued it’s (now) slow process of healing itself now that she was stable and at peace again, calmed by her boyfriend’s rare gentle touch when she fully relaxed in his hold. It was only a few seconds of bliss before she felt his hand furiously ball up her hair and pull her up to face him in his now rage filled eyes.

Legs struggling to hold her up and healing put on pause once again, she thought against pulling at his wrist since she knew from past experience that that would only worsen the situation at hand. Instead, she fearfully stared back at her boyfriend, waiting for him to explain what was the root of his anger this time and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head. Was it really because she was pleading for her life? Because she confessed that it was becoming all too painful?

“I told you to not come into my office until they cleaned off all the blood from you.”

Fingers gripping harder around her hair with strength she’s never experienced before, the words fell off his sharp tongue with little to no emotion in them and his stare never wavered from the mess she made. Y/N swore that if he hadn’t been holding on to her so tightly, his hands would be all over him and scratching the hives that were probably breaking out under his shirt. Not only did he have pools of blood staining his carpet but the blood from her gashes was beginning to spill on his clothes.

Overhaul was livid, using any bit of self-control he still had in his empty shell of a person to not murder her right there and then.

“Chisaki.”

The wretched name that was supposed to be forgotten between them slipped out of her bruised lip by accident. Overhaul’s hold on her and the pain from today’s experiment mixed together far too much, allowing her to speak the name without thinking of the repercussions that always came along with it. Y/N had made sure to avoid it so many times, always stopping herself before it made it past her lips but she was far too tired — her mind didn’t have the energy to recall all the little rules and precautions she had to take in his presence.

“Let’s just make it easier for you already, then.”

It all happened too fast, a blur to her with her weakened senses. Overhaul had tossed her on the floor with all the force he could muster up and pulled the gun out of his desk swiftly, giving her little to not time to process what was going on until she was met with a gun between her eyebrows.

“Would you like me to shoot you with this prototype or would you like me to continuously disassemble your body until your quirk won’t help you anymore?”

Y/N knew him. She knew he wouldn’t resort to any of those options, at least not now but she didn’t want to find out what would happen if it wouldn’t be those two.

“‘No.” Vigorously shaking her head at either option, she ignored the warm sensation of fresh tears spilling from her tired eyes when she felt the barrel of the gun press into her skin.

“So, what should your next move be here then, darling?”

“I...apologize.” It was hesitant, too hesitant for his liking but he just wanted to get this whole mess cleaned up as fast as he could. “I’m extremely sorry for not seeing the bigger picture, Overhaul. Please continue the experiments as long as you please.”

Satisfied, he returned the gun back to its rightful place in his desk and pulled her back on her feet with less hostility this time, leading her back to get bathed and healed up. The last thing she remembered from that night was looking up at his beautiful evil face and passing out in his arms halfway to their room.

She was tired. She was drained. She was pushing her body to dangerous limits she never dreamed of but it was all for him, all for the success he continuously promised her. It seemed as though recently she’d been painfully pushing herself to do a lot of questionable things for him, though. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take from him.

It had just been three weeks since the messy incident in his office, three weeks since her last experiment. Overhaul had claimed that they were unnecessary now, that he had received all the information he needed on her quirk and it’d be a waste of resources and time to continue. They had to focus on the bigger picture now before they ran out of time, he had told his men after delivering the painful conclusion he came to from the experiments to Y/N.

Overhaul’s final decision on her experiments made her regret every crying to him about the pain. ‘I should’ve just taken it’ was the only thought on her mind when the sharp pain from the bullet worked it’s ‘magic’ on her.

“It should be permanent.” Were the only words Chisaki Kai spoke to his significant other after shooting them, excusing himself to attend to other business after patching up her wound for her — the only act of kindness she would get from him today.

She hated him.

She absolutely hated him.

The one and only source of protection she had against his fits of anger was gone, ripped away from her by hands that only sought destruction. Thoughts of leaving him and dropping off the face of the earth clouded her mind while she, ironically, headed to his office in search of more pain killers that he deemed safe enough for her. Sadness was immediately replaced with anger when she thought of how useless she’d be out there in the real world now without her quirk. Even if she ran away, how far could she really get from him and his men with no quirk?

Y/N’s thoughts of escape were halted when someone ran into her, bringing her back to the reality she was forced to call her life. Looking down, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she was met with the sight of a child covered in bandages. Upon noticing that she didn’t mean any harm like Overhaul and Chrono did back there, the child frighteningly took Y/N’s gentle hand and looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” Y/N asked the young child, noticing the familiar expression of pain and sadness adorning her young and innocent facial features; a combination of emotions that she herself found a habit for her to feel within these walls.

“Help me.”

Two simple words and Eri’s look of pure fear tiggers at Y/N’s heartstrings. Crouching down to her level, ignoring the pain that was beginning to travel through her body from her wound, she busied herself with wiping away Eri’s tears and squeezing her hand in a comforting way she remembered her own mother doing to her when she was the same age.

Just as she was about to speak up, a pair of loud footsteps made the girls look over to where Chrono and Overhaul entered the hallway. The hatred Y/N had building up for Overhaul only grew when she observed the way Eri clung to her at the sight of her boyfriend.

“Thank you so much for catching the child for me, sweetheart. Would you please hand her over to Chrono so we can continue on with the experiments?”

She knew the romantic pet name and the faux kindness in his voice was all a trick. Overhaul wasn’t an idiot, he had immediately noticed the way that Y/N protectively held Eri and the way she was looking up at him with pure hatred on her face.

“You’re doing experiments...on a child?”

Overhaul had already excused her action of looking at him so disrespectfully but the way she spoke to him, with pure disgust, was beginning to annoy him especially when she had no idea how valuable the child in her hands was. Stepping closer to them, Y/N held onto Eri tighter as if that would make a difference in stopping whatever he had planned for them. Y/N knew each step Overhaul took closer to them was just shortening the amount of time she had before she met up with his wrath again.

The motherly instinct in her just hoped that she would be the only one he’d go after right now even if the lack of quirk on her part put her less at ease.

“You are in no position to question what I’m doing for our future.” Overhaul distastefully looked down at them, gloved fists balling up at his sides when he looked down at the pitiful girl he once fell in love with, noticing how far she had gone from being his perfect, little, obedient Y/N. “She is the key to making this world better—“

“She’s just a kid. What the hell do you need to do experiments on a kid for?” Pushing Eri behind her and standing up to meet Overhaul, she stood in between them to serve as a makeshift shield. ”You’re sick. You’re so fucking sick.”

“I’m starting to think you’re getting a little too comfortable. I’ll need to fix that soon once we get time.” Seizing by the throat, he pushed her weakened body up against the wall, gaining a whimper from Eri as she watched the scene unfold right in front of her. “My love for you will only excuse so much so I’d suggest getting back in line before I murder you with own two hands.”

Overhaul’s words seemed to have not processed within her when she focused on taking him in, instead. It was frightening to think that she was once in love with this man that was currently squeezing her throat so hard that she could barely steal a single breath. The fire in her heart that she once had for him was hastily blown out the moment he wrapped his fingers around her throat, the rose-colored glasses she had for him falling off, as well.

Y/N saw him for what he was now, a horrible human being who had no idea how to show love to anyone especially not her. Their was no future he had planned out for them, it was just a future he had planned out for himself and maybe he would decide if he deemed Y/N worthy of tagging along but she didn’t want that anymore. She didn’t want to prove herself worthy to him anymore.

“Apologize.” Bringing herself back to the scene she was forced to be in, she felt Overhaul’s grip loosen up to give her the opportunity to speak up.

The silence on her part wasn’t working in her favor, whatsoever. Eri and Chrono flinched at the sound of the hard slap bouncing off the hallway’s walls, Y/N’s cheek stained a violent red from the impact with tiny droplets of blood dribbling down her once clean skin. It hurt, it hurt so much but she knew he could do worse if he really wanted to.

“Now.”

“I’m sorry, Overhaul.”

It seemed robotic at this point. Three words that had been so ingrained into her brain from being with him that they just came out whenever he wanted, no genuine sorry-ness ever crossing her mind anymore.

“Now apologize to Eri for causing such a scene in front of her.” Harsh fingers moved from her throat to her chin, forcing her to look over at where Eri was looking at them with tears adorning her flushed cheeks. “She’s only a child, Y/N, how dare you scare her with your vulgar words and a loud tone?”

“I’m sorry, Eri.”

Eri.

Her name was Eri.

“Go back to our room and finish getting ready. We have a meeting with the league of villain’s leader coming up soon.”

Roughly pushing her to the side, he signaled for Chrono to take Eri now and started heading back towards the experimental room where Y/N had spent her own previous days in. If she didn’t know Overhaul’s true colors, she would think that the scene in front of her was adorable. Chrono was holding Eri in his arms as Overhaul calmly spoke to her, his eyes scrunched up as he smiled down at her even though his words were far from friendly.

“Do you see what you make me do, Eri? If you hadn’t been a brat and ran away, I wouldn’t have to be so mean to my girlfriend. She might hate me now because of you.”

Y/N’s heart broke at the sound of Eri crying at Overhaul’s words, thinking that it was really her fault for everything that was going on when it was actually far from the truth. Cradling her swollen cheek in her hand and thinking back to Eri’s poor face, she came to her decision. She had to leave. She had to leave with Eri, now. If not for herself, at least for Eri.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul imagine #chisaki kai x reader

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lostadrianda · 5 years ago

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The house of wolves

Part I

*версия на русском языке по ссылке:

https://ficbook.net/readfic/8551009

There are dark times. I thought that the death of my parents was the worst thing I would ever see in my life. But now it's so bad… I have to admit that it's worse.

Smoke from the fire rises into the sky, twisting and dragging sparks with it. An axe clatters, and a tree falls with a crunch, breaking neighboring branches. I have almost no life left in me. Almost nothing is inside. People are scurrying around. The camp is growing in front of our eyes, turning from a temporary to our permanent campsite. I look at it, trying to figure out what’s going on. I'm not used to being in camps. The detachments held out successfully for four years in the Dominiana, where we took over the houses, and everything went well. But recently we were forced out of those lands, and the Sly Fox moved all of us to the Islands. It seems to be logical decision. But on the Islands we are not welcome. We could have gone to the south to sparsely populated areas and stayed there. However, we did not do this. But why?

I was the only one who seemed to be asking questions. I don't know. I didn't have much contact with anyone from the camp. I glance at the people sitting next to me. Their faces are dry and earthy. Only the reddish glare of the fire is on them. And their eyes are fixed. You always had to keep in mind that those were wolves around you, not people. They look alike, they even show humanity from time to time. It's all a lie. And if there is any kindness in someone, it will soon be beaten out of them. It's the only way around here. I am among the enemy, I am in their ranks. I help put up new tents. But I have a feeling that I will soon be finished with. It's about time. But the Sly Fox keeps stalling. I think he understands how much this torments me. That's why he keeps me close to him. He's not stupid, no. Therefore, his decisions are not discussed.

It's funny that the Fox has committed so many crimes, but if somebody asks to show the main bastard, everyone will point the finger at me. I betrayed my family. Not native, adopted. Yes, they are all dead now, too. I guess my life didn't work out. But I didn't betray anyone. When the door was kicked in and twenty men entered with the Fox at their head, it was all over. There was nothing I could do about it, no matter how much I think about it. I pretended that I always hated my new parents. And I joined the side of the enemy. I should have given my sister time to escape. I didn't expect much more. I didn't think about anything. I didn't think I'd have to break into houses like this with the others. That now I will always hear the sound of those black boots wherever I go. I didn't think I'd have to run around in the woods. I didn’t know I'd be stuck with them for five years. I thought they would kill me that night, in the same house, as soon as they realized what I had done. But they did not understand or pretended not to understand. They still look askance. And I'm not allowed to be absolutely free. The Sly Fox sometimes calls me, asks questions, and I answer, but I keep waiting for the punishment to come. And he lets me go. During all this time, not a single suspicion was expressed. And he's smart. And there is nothing left for me, I am in his hands, always in his sight, even if he is watching me with a hundred other people's eyes, wolf eyes. He is always somewhere above me, behind me. All the time my life is suspended, and I know it.

My only hope is that my sister will return. I have nothing else left. Everything is so empty. And I’m doing something wrong. I close my eyes so that I don't see anything, so that I don't understand what is happening to me. Because as soon as I start thinking, it turns me inside out. When I forget myself, I gather wood for a fire, go with others and scout the area around the camp, draw some maps. And everything seems to be as it should be. I make an obedient and silent employee, everyone is happy, I do not interfere with anyone. The whole body shakes, as if with a strong chill, and no fire warms. So something inside is resisting. It remembers, and remembers well, that the Sly Fox is the enemy. That he killed a lot of people. But he's good, he's built everything right. He's got an army of about three thousand men, and they all look at him and catch every word. Only one person I've ever known, only one person in my entire life, could stand up to him. And this is my sister. Isn’t it funny, huh? As I remember her, thin, fragile, as I look at the Fox… I can't believe it. But that’s true. Her playful dark eyes flashed with such power sometimes that I was willing to believe that she would overcome anyone. And every time I look at the Fox, I always look at the scar on his cheek. My sister left this for him as a souvenir.

But I haven't heard from her in five years. It's too long to wait, you know? A person waits, waits for a week, a month, maybe a year… And then begins to live, throwing a veil of oblivion over the past. Only I never started again. The air balloon ends sooner or later, you know? And I'm still trying to grab the mask and breathe, breathe. Nothing is inside. In the camp, when people talk about her, all they say is that she must have been dead for a long time. I wished they say something else, even nonsense. Nooo. There are no other options in anyone's mind. Only my brains resist. Things can't be that bad. No matter how much life beats me, I won't believe it. It can't be that bad.

Smoke from the fire gets in my nose. It's getting colder, the earth is blowing in autumn, and the leaves are not the same as before. I rub my flushed hands together. The Islands don't like us. We are like an ulcer on their body. We tried to move deeper into the mountains and fortify ourselves. Fifty of our men were killed in two days. A couple of detachments remained in the dense forests at the foot of the mountain, while the rest were scattered along the coasts hiding. We choose places so that we are not found for as long as possible. And it’s strange that the Fox ordered us to fortify ourselves here. But let hell be with it.

The sky has been cloudy all the time we've been here. Today, for the first time, I see the sun shining. Even now you can't see the sky — it's all white, with darker clouds floating across it. The horizon is dark-blue, grim, colliding with an even darker, colder sea. I look into the distance and for the first time I think that my sister must be dead. It scares so much. It's like I'm no longer a human being and I'm becoming a wolf, like all those people around me. That’s really scary. For some reason everything turns to be meaningless. No, I won't give them my soul. They took everything from me, but they won't get it. I will believe till the end. I will resist until I lose my mind. Why am I sitting now here with them, as if I really took their side?

It makes me feel sick. I kept hiding in their ranks and waiting for my sister to break out. Five years have passed. Time flies quickly, terribly, the further away, the more ghostly. I forget how it all happened, I forget why it happened, I forget what a mistake we made. I still think that I did everything right. I acted as I should. As well as I could. But for some reason, it all turned out to be really bad.

If I am the only one left here, who is still fighting, who still remembers that there were better, brighter times, if my sister is dead, and no one is fighting without her, isn't it time for me to get up? Isn't it time to remember who I was and how I was brought up, and what was on my mind before I got bogged down in this mire? I'm biting my lip nervously, they are already looking at me with suspicion.

What a coward I have become! Just thinking makes my temples sweat. I’m used to waiting for a miracle, but as soon as I imagined that I had to act myself, I shrank from fear and wanted to hide away. If only they didn't touch me, if only, if only... I did not to experience new horrors. You don't like me, do you? Despise? Look at me, all that is left of me is my skin, hanging on my bones! These wolves, damn them, have broken me so badly that none of my old friends would recognize me. But what good are these friends: they're either dead or they're first in line to take my head off.

I stand up from the log I've been sitting on all this time and feel my legs go numb. They are frozen to the bones. I stand still to stretch them a little. The two men sitting next to me look at me lazily.

— Where are you going? – Their cracked lips move, yellow teeth appear in between them. Those men probably don't like camp life either. And how long this will continue, no one knows.

— I'll go up to the river. There's one place I don't understand, I want to look at it.

— Don't run into anyone. We don't need you to bring the villagers here.

I nod. I don't get into fights, I don't get involved. Everything I have inside, I keep inside, and it’s a habit that has covered me like armor. I walk past the tents, from campfire to campfire, and turn onto the path that leads higher. I climb up and look back. Lights, trampled paths, people. I'm sick to death of such views. The further away from them, the better it is. I know I'll be back anyway. It's sickening. But the closer I get to them, the more I can learn about the outside world. I'm still waiting for news. At least one piece of news about my sister would be great. No one else will tell me. Only sitting by the fire I learn something new. Everyone in the outside world that I strive for hates me so much that they won't hesitate when they see me. They’ll kill me instantly. Here in the squads, I'm just one of hundreds. To the outside world, I stand in one line with the Fox. And he is happy for this — to keep a traitorous son and show everyone that even I recognized his power.

#story #story time #writer #writing #writing in quarantine #writings #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writers #writblr #house of wolves #part #dark #darkness #feelings

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hesprettycuteforamonsterv4 · 5 years ago

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She Wants me, Not You

REPOSTING IMAGINES: Can you write an imagine where the reader is popular but is dating Eric anyway and one day she's in the coma. When she wakes up she remembers nothing about Eric. A joke says something like :"Last night, y/n screamed my name when she doesn't even remember yours" to Eric. They fight but the reader comes and fight the joke back and help Eric. The end is up to you Thx you lovely

Up to me, huh? Hmm…

————-

“Happy Anniversary!” One of the waiters cheers, the other two clapping with wide, enthusiastic smiles. “Congratulations on the dedication and commitment is has taken to make it through two years of dating!” You and Eric glance at each other stiffly as two strangers might when passing on the street, looking away quickly without so much as a smile like this isn’t supposed to be a joyous occasion.

But the waiters disperse after setting a desert that looks like it belongs in an art museum on the spotless ivory tablecloth, none of them even seeming to read into the sudden chill that has permeated the elegant restaurant, and you’re left alone with Eric once again. Lowering your gaze to your hands, you clench them together, knowing that if you look up, you’ll be forced to stare at the marks on his neck that aren’t from you.

Noticing one of the buttons of your blouse is undone, you curse quietly, buttoning it hastily as your cheeks flame. Eric says nothing; his heated silence tells you he knows where you were before you came here to meet him.

It isn’t anything that hasn’t been going in for months.

Swallowing hard, everything feels forced; the pencil skirt, the heels, your legs crossed daintily under the table, the way you and Eric aren’t saying anything as though denying the obvious will make it less true. Even Eric has donned a button down and gelled his hair. The two people sitting at this table aren’t who they started out as. All of a sudden, you want to yank your hair down and grab his hand, running off to eat cheap take-out and watch crappy chick flicks all night.

But it doesn’t take a genius to know that’s not ever happening.

He looks at you with red-rimmed eyes that tell stories of many sleepless nights, speaking in a raspy voice, “I just got accepted into Dartmouth.” He doesn’t beam with pride, he doesn’t straighten his shoulders and just his chin out boastfully. Rather, he looks exhausted, like he’s caving in on himself, and all you can muster is a nod.

“That’s…” You begin, searching for words that won’t disclose your dismay. All the way across the country. “Great.” The words sound hollow even to you own ears, the false cheer you tried to infuse them with falling flat. You try to swallow down everything you want to say, try to stop imagining the claw marks down his back that another girl no doubt has left in her wake. “How long have you known?” You ask, running your hands across your hair lightly to make sure everything is still in place.

To erase the burning paths his fingers have left on your scalp though he hasn’t tangled his fingers into your hair in months.

“Three months.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.” A silence ensues as you avoid each other’s eyes, both of you dying to confront the other but neither wanting to make the other’s disloyalty real. Eric picks at his food, and as you watch his haggard form surreptitiously, you notice he’s lost a considerable amount of weight.

“You should eat,” you say lightly, and he looks up at you, startled at your sudden show of concern. His dark, fathomless eyes are filled with longing and hunger, but not for food. Casting your eyes down to your plate lest they reveal the tumultuous emotions within, you continue good-naturedly, “Put some meat on those bones.”

It’s as though he’s frozen, staring at you with a desperate expression, like he is searching for something that he doesn't know how to find in you anymore. Taking a long drink of your water, you try to ignore the mournful expression on his sorrowful face; you know what he is thinking. You are both thinking it, wishing that you could turn back time and erase the pain and heartache.

And, God, you want to go back.

Right now, you would give anything to erase the wounded look in his eyes.

Then, in some strange impulsive desire to wipe the slate clean, you reach for his hand, heart hammering in your chest as you open your mouth to… What? Apologize? You hesitate, and the hope flaming in his eyes dies.

He pulls his hand away.

“No,” He says wearily, rubbing his eyes. He knows what you were about to say before you even knew. “You messed around on me,” he says accusingly, energy seeming to flush through him as the eyes that were once filled with love for you hold nothing more than betrayal and contempt.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to deny it, but you choke back the lie; you both know it’s true. Though neither party is innocent, you’re the one who made the first mistake that led to a chain reaction of many more. He squeezes his eyes shut, suddenly wrought with a raw pain that never used to plague him at the start of your carefree relationship.

“Why did you sleep with him?” He looks devastated, finally verbalizing the question you knows has been tormenting him for months. When you really gaze at him, you see that the exhaustion has never left his pale face from that night he walked in on you and Matt, a football player at your school, and there is an emptiness in his hollow eyes that chills you right to your core. When you don’t answer, only able to stare guiltily down at your plate, he cries, “I don’t understand what I did wrong!”

Snapping your gaze up to his, you feel agonized. You’d never meant to hurt him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Your tone is insistent, and for the first time in a long time, you earnestly speak the truth.

His voice breaks, tears welling up in his eyes that he angrily wipes away. “You hurt me more than anyone ever has!”

“You think you’re the only one who cried?” You bite back, painful anger welling in your chest as you clench your hands around the napkin in a fight to keep your tone low and controlled. “You think you’re the only one felt like their heart had been ripped out of their chest?” Remembering the way he flew out in a rage, the way the love bites lined his neck the next day much as they do now, it was devastating seeing how quickly he’d sought out another companion.

You reach out to touch his hand tenderly, but he jerks away, his eyes haunted as he shakes his head, leaning back in his seat as though he can’t get far enough away from you. Suddenly feeling desperate to mend a heart you’d thought for a long time was unfixable, you continue, “I lived every day without half of myself that I thought I’d never get back after...” You know by his sickened expression that he understands you’re referencing his little one-night stand with a girl that turned into several months of enjoying each other.

Sometimes you wonder why you and him are even still together, why you continue to cling to each other despite everything telling you to let go.

The only reason you’d slept with Matt was to stick it to Eric for spending the entire night at the party flirting with another girl right in front of you. Despite the fact that it’s too late to defend yourself, he stills when you lace your fingers with his across the table, his breath catching as though this is your first date, not your last. You speak softly, "I was wrong, and you were right. I was doing that to get a rise out of you. I crossed a line." "A line?" He chokes out, laughing bitterly but continuing to grip your hand tightly like it’s a lifeline. "You've crossed so many lines. We’ve crossed so many lines." You feel ashamed as he scrubs at his eyes to erase the tears forming in them and threatening to spill over. "I can't even look at you," he whispers, but groans not long after. "And yet, I can’t force myself to let go, either.” He laughs in self-loathing at the tangled web you’re both stuck in.

Stirring your food across your plate absentmindedly, you remember the devastation that had driven you into deep depression with such clarity, it’s as though it happened yesterday. “There are no words to describe how absolutely gutted I was- am- at my actions.” When he says nothing, only stares at you with a traumatized expression, you whisper hoarsely, “I should have stayed with you that night. I wish I had more than anything.” He gazes at you, seeming to be searching your very soul for truth in your words. “I loved you more than anything in the world,” you choke out, tears blurring your vision. “I still do.”

Eric’s voice trembles as he whispers, “Really?” The uncertainty in his surprisingly vulnerable face nearly breaks your heart, and you just want to throw your arms around him and kiss him as though nothing ever happened. “More than… Him?” He utters the pronoun like it is foul, a look of disgust flashing across his face.

“Of course, baby. I love you so much,” you respond fervently, and his eyes darken in a way that makes you shiver. Taking slow, sure breaths, you immediately feel guilty for your little affair earlier. But Eric seems to have forgotten all about that; however, before he can even stand up to sweep you off your feet, a fight breaks out at the elegant bar across the room, one guy in a sleek black suit grabbing the other and smashing his head against the counter as glasses shatter all over the floor and the bartender jumps back in shock.

The guy blindly stumbles backwards towards you and Eric, clutching his head. The other guy advances towards him, grabbing a chair and hurtling it at him, and he manages to duck. You barely have time to gasp before the chair fills your vision and rips your consciousness from you.

————

Pulling pictures off of your tack board, you gaze at them solemnly before shutting them in the drawer of your desk. Many are of you and a blonde boy with a hard smile and belligerent body language, a boy you don’t remember in the slightest. Pursing your lips, you let your hand linger on the drawer before pulling it off the knob, thinking about how that same boy, now softened around the edges with sadness, cake to your house many times over the past few months, gradually less and less as he began to realize that you aren’t the same girl he’d apparently fell in love with.

You sigh, troubled at the thought that you might have felt the same way towards him at one point, at the happiness in your beaming smile in the photos. But the black hole that has sucked all your memories of everything but your parents away took those memories, as well. Trying to erase his devastated expression form your mind, you grimace, moving away from the desk as though it’s been cursed.

The doctor diagnosed you with amnesia, the result of a coma you apparently woke up from a few weeks ago. Shivering, you draw your arms around yourself; all you remember is waking up with no memories at all. At least until your parents filled your line of vision, and then a few, feeble recollections came creeping back in. The doctor isn’t sure if the effects are temporary or permanent, but for now, you just have to try to build up a new life as best as you can.

Flopping back on your bed, you watch the fan whir mindlessly. Will I ever remember? You wonder with growing perturbation. Do I even want to? Your phone begins buzzing, drawing you from your dark thoughts, and you feel a breathless smile capture your lips at the caller ID on the screen.

Matt.

A really sweet guy from your school has offered to walk you around to all of your classes and help you get oriented… Re-oriented with all of your classes. You can’t help but feel elated as you think about how handsome he is, and he’s on the football team! You can’t remember for sure, but you think this is probably what you’ve always dreamed of in a potential boyfriend. It has to be.

“Hey,” you say somewhat breathlessly as you accept the call, holding the phone to your ear and biting your thumb as your heart races in anticipation for what he’ll say.

“Hi,” he responds, sounding amused. “How are you doing?”

“Great!” You curse at yourself for sounding so goddamn exhilarated to be the center of his attention. Don’t be so obvious! “How are you?”

“Better if I could come over and hang out with you…” He trails off, his tone suggestive as he puts emphasis on the word “hang.” You can feel the heat creep into your cheeks, and you’re relieved he can’t see how flustered he makes you.

“That sounds great,” you reply, trying to remain nonchalant. “Let me tell you my address.”

“That’s okay,” he responds, and you can practically see him smirking. “I know where your house is.” He hangs up without another word, and you’re left confused. You’d thought he looked slightly familiar when you saw him for the first time.

But was it for the first time, or do you already know him?

Shaking your head, you force the thought from your mind, convinced that he’d have told you if you’d been friends in the past. And when he comes over a half hour later, his moans in your ear and his lips on your neck suggest you’ve never been friends, at least not friends without “benefits.”

Then you’re lying next to him in the bed, both of your chests heaving, and he smiles and runs his eyes down you as though it’s a view he’s seen before but not one he’ll ever tire of. “Let’s go to a party,” he says, but there’s a sly look glimmering in his eyes, and you suddenly feel like this is very wrong.

Resisting a sudden urge to wrap your arms around your body and conceal yourself from the devious look on his face, you begin pulling your clothes on. Glancing back at him, you realize with dismay that he’s already moved on from the heated climax you both shared, seeming to be lost in whatever plot is brewing within his mind.

By the time you reach the party, it’s as though Matt has forgotten you completely, striding off into the crowd purposefully like a man on a mission. Then you’re alone, surrounded by people who smile at you warmly as though they know you, and perhaps they do, but you feel swallowed up by the music vibrating against the walls and the stench of alcohol permeating the air. All of a sudden, you find that you’ve made your way into a tightly packed group of people dancing, and you begin to panic, trying to squirm your way out but only managing to get sucked in deeper.

A hand shows up out of nowhere through the chaos, strong and sure, pulling you out of the mess of swaying hips and groping hands. When you finally look up, your startled to see the sad boy who kept visiting your house and asking if you still loved him. The pain hasn’t left his eyes as they regard you with longing, but the desperation for you remember him has, and he’s let go of your hand almost as soon as he grabbed it, turning to move away after offering you a regretful smile.

What is his name again?

“Eric,” you utter in realization, your voice a whisper quiet enough to be drowned out by the music, but he hears you, straightening as his steps falter. Your eyes widen. Where did that come from? You wonder. He seems to be wondering the same thing as he turns around cautiously, narrowing his eyes as he studies you warily.

“Who told you?” He asks casually, but you can tell he really wants to ask you did you remember?

“Eric,” you repeat, focusing on his name and rolling it over and over on your tongue, feeling that strange sensation like when a word or a name is on the tip of your tongue and you’re so close to remembering it, you can almost touch it.

A hazy memory of people singing and clapping suddenly pokes into your mind, and you chase after it desperately, so focused on catching it that you don’t even realize how close Eric has gotten to you, his hopeful gaze focused intently on your face. There’s fancy dessert… Your eyebrows furrow as you concentrate, sure that there were words written on the plate of cheesecake, but you can’t remember what they said.

All of a sudden, it comes back, and you gasp, snapping your eyes up to Eric’s. “Happy Anniversary,” you whisper, and the smile that captures his lips is saturated with relief and radiant with joy, and you can tell he’s seconds away from pressing his lips to yours.

But before he can, a familiar voice says obnoxiously, “Eric, just the guy I was looking for.” An arm slides around your shoulders and you freeze, staring at Eric as he immediately casts his eyes down glumly, the hope glimmering in them dulling. “You’re not trying to steal my girl from me, are you?” To anyone watching, he looks like he’s joking, but you’re not stupid; it isn’t hard to pick up on the warning edge to his tone that tells Eric back off.

You can tell by Eric’s calloused hands and the hardness that always seems to glint in his eyes like a knife that fighting battles is second nature to him, but, for your sake, you can see him backing off when he clearly wants to stay, allowing you to choose the guy he thinks you have decided you want. All of a sudden, you realize this was all a set up. Matt only wanted to get in your pants so he could rub it in Eric’s face. You feel the blood drain from your face, and you shrink away from Matt’s touch, wanting to flee from him and erase the marks he’s left on your body.

“Well, he was just about to take me home,” you blurt to Matt, begging Eric silently to go along with your ruse so that you can escape Matt, a person who is entirely different than he was yesterday.

“Is that so?” Matt says, tightening his grip as any remaining warmth in his previously sweet, kind-hearted demeanor vanishes. “I think he’s just jealous that you were just screaming my name and you don’t even remember his.” His words are taunting, and Eric looks stricken with shock and anger; furious at Matt for pushing him to his breaking point and devastated that you slept with the enemy.

“I wasn’t screaming it,” you mumble, flushing. “I didn’t even want to do… it,” you say, feeling mortified that you’re having this conversation in front of Eric. Eric stiffens, a murderous expression blackening his hazel eyes as he listens to your words.

“You forced her to sleep with you?” He hisses at Matt, advancing towards the larger boy and seeming to loom over him despite being significantly smaller.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Matt spits, sneering before pushing the proverbial blade in further. “She wants me, not you.”

Eric lunges at him with a snarl, but you throw yourself in front of Matt, wrapping your arms around Eric tightly so that he won’t get baited into Matt’s trap formed from his desire to take Eric down and humiliate him in front of everyone. “Don’t do it,” you breathe, not because you really care what happens to Matt, but because the fire coursing through Eric’s veins proves he’s a force to be reckoned with, and Matt doesn’t stand a chance.

“Why not?” He growls, his blazing glare focused on Matt, who stands smirking behind you. Your grip softens, until you’re holding him gently in your arms rather than retraining him.

“Because I want you to take me out,” you say softly, trying to soothe the demon raging within him. “To that place we went on our anniversary.” You want nothing more than to experience it all over again, to relearn every pucker and scar on his body, to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his arms wrapped around my waist.

Eric gazes at you solemnly, saying quietly, “You don’t have to do that just because you pity me.”

“I don’t,” you say, shaking your head. “Maybe I just want to fall in love with you all over again.” You flush slightly at the cheesiness of your cliché profession of love, but he doesn’t seem to care, his forlorn face softening at your sweet words.

“Really?” He says incredulously, as though he can’t fathom why you’d choose him voluntarily. ��Even though I’ve done awful things to you?” The shadow that comes over his face tells horrifying stories of disloyalty and betrayal, but you don’t care.

“Last I checked, everyone makes mistakes.” You smile at him lightheartedly, but you know he hears the sincerity in your tone. Then, as though he’s been waiting a lifetime to hold you in his arms again, he’s pulling you into his arms tightly and tangling his hands in your hair. You can hear Matt scoffing behind you, but when you turn towards him, an insult forming on your lips, it’s Eric who stops you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Eric says, crossing his arms and lifting his chin in a way that makes you think he’s better suited for barracks than a high school party. “I think he’s just jealous.” When Matt says nothing, his lip curling, Eric adds, “She wants me, not you, asshole.” There’s no applause at him cleverly turning Matt’s snide comment back on him, no one is watching and cheering like at the end of a romantic movie where the guy finally gets the girl.

No one actually cares. And Eric? He isn’t charming, he isn’t suave, he isn’t the type of person to thank anyone after a victory but himself or stroke someone’s ego. But he’s yours, and as you feel him tighten his grip on your hand as you make your way out of the party, you realize that’s all that matters.

#ericharris #ericharrisxreader #ericharrisimagines #columbine #columbineimagines

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