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eartht137 · 3 years ago

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FOR THE BETTER pt. III

Oh curvies I have another part to put up for you. I'm hoping this is enjoyable please feel free to leave feedback, I need it lol. Not too much to say about this chapter except here ya go. I had fun writing more about Lois in this chapter and giving her perspective a bit about the whole "friendship" so let me know so I can improve. Alright read away love ya MMMMwwwwahhhhh!!!

Summary: Clark and Y/n have been spending a lot of time together. Y/n has asked Clark to invite Lois along but she hardly ever shows up. Y/n doesn't think much of it, but she should, because Lois wants time with her man and Y/n is in the way. How will Clark handle the distance though?

Dark Clark Kent x Black!Plus Size Reader

Over the next few weeks you and Clark spent almost everyday together, and you were starting to feel a bit bad that Lois hadn't been able to join, but a handful of times. Clark spent every moment he had available working to get you to fully trust him and you finally relented to having movie night at his place.

"Hey bestie." You greeted as you removed you jacket.

"I was thinking, I want to take you out one day." he commented from his couch as you began moving around his kitchen to start making dinner.

"Uh, no." You said calmly.

"You do realize I've only seen you your uniform, casual clothes, and pajamas. I've never seen you dressed up."

"Well tough luck Kent," You said pointing a big metal spoon at him. "I don't do dress up." You said sticking your nose in the air.

"You don't do a lot of things." He complained under his breath. You held the cooking spoon to your chest and calmly walked in front of him. "It is my job in my life and the next to give you the biggest amount of grief and shit since you made the decision to bulldoze your way into my blissful loneliness." he erupted into a fit of laughter as you spoke in your overly proper accent. "Furthermore, I shall repeat my earlier sentiment. I don't do dress up. Now, Mr. Kent, I am preparing our meal and you shall behave if you want dessert." You said holding you overly proper dramatic demeanor.

"Dessert?" He asked biting his lip, his mind traveling to dangerous thoughts.

"Oh yes, a quite delightful dessert-a mortal weakness of mine." You said in a dramatically evil way, rubbing your hands together as if you'd created something diabolical.

"Oh god here we go." Clark said pinching the bridge of his nose.

"CHOCOLATE!!!!" You both yelled out together, you added and evil laugh at the end and walked like Igor to the stove, rubbing circles on the glass.

"Yes, yes, bake my pretty's and we shall take over this world-TOGETHER!!!" You definitely had Clark in tears of laughter. A slow clap brought him out of his euphoric laughter. You both looked and saw Lois standing in the door way and she didn't seem too happy. You assumed it was because of work.

"Hey Lois." You said cheerfully not really noticing how she was looking between you and Clark.

"What's going on?" She asked folding her arms across her chest.

"It's movie night." You said excited that she was there. "Come, come. I show you." You said getting back in character to cheer her up. You Igor walked with her back to the kitchen making her laugh even though she was upset and didn't want to. You opened the stove and showed her the dessert. "Shh shh, no one must know of my plan." You said rubbing your hands together evilly.

"What plan?" She asked confused.

"To take over the world with CHOCOLATE!!!" You said throwing your hands in the air adding the evil laugh at the end.

"Go, go you must go and prepare yourself." You said shooing her away.

"Prepare myself?" she asked even more confused.

"For movie night. A night of terrifying, horrible, scary-wait, what are we watching again?" you asked Clark. He said a movie you hated and you immediately deflated laying on the floor in tantrum style. "You said we wouldn't watch that one. No wait, its our viewer of honors turn to choose. Lois, you don't know how great it is to have you for movie night!" you said jumping up genuinely excited. She couldn't help but smile because she could see you didn't have bad intentions, but the same couldn't be said for Clark. She really didn't know what his deal was. She questioned him from the beginning when he began to talk about you and your work. She didn't think much of it at first, even when he invited you for dinner at his mom's, she honestly thought he was just being nice because you were a loner in his class, but when the movie nights and friend outings overshadowed their relationship, that's when she realized something else was up. She saw the long stares and smiles at you, she remembered when he used to look at her that way. The only thing that kept her certain that he still loved her was that he hadn't told you his biggest secret. Your gasp startled them out of there stare down.

"I forgot the whipped cream." You said urgently.

"There's some in the fridge." Clark said pointing at the refrigerator. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him.

"Is it cool whip?" You asked waiting for his answer and his silence was answer enough. "Its alright, I'll go get some."

"You most certainly will not. I'll go get some. I'll be right back."

"Woah dude, you're forgetting the cash." You said fishing in your pocket for money. He chuckled, ruffled your fro, and left. "Dude, I said not the mop." you said fixing your hair.

"So..." Lois said a bit awkwardly as you walked back to the kitchen.

So, how's everything at the Daily Planet going? Clark was telling me you were on this really big blow up article. I can help. I can go and get info that way you don't have to and you can spend more time with Clark." You said with a smile.

"Yeah, lets talk about that, spending more time with Clark. How about you back off a bit and not spend so much time with him."

"Oh-I...." You trailed off feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-I....I didn't know, honest, but you're absolutely right. I'm so sorry." You said genuinely feeling bad that Clark hadn't been spending time with her as you thought. You respected that she needed him and even though you tried to avoid it, you figured something like that would happen. "Should-do you want me to leave?" You asked not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"No, stay, just....I need him too. Tonight's okay, but just a couple of weeks? I need him to myself." she said hoping you'd understand.

"I completely understand." you said continuing to prepare the meal for the evening. You really wanted to leave, but you didn't want to make everything awkward. When Clark made it back, Lois was able to keep up the act, you weren't. Clark could tell right off something was up, even when you kept saying you were okay, he could tell you were lying. Once dinner was done, you all sat quietly watching the movie Lois had picked. Soon he and Lois had fallen asleep together on the couch. Taking that as your moment, you tried to leave as quietly as you could. You were just opening the door when you heard him stir awake.

"Y/n? Where are you going? Its too late."

You quickly rushed out and left without saying a word. That was the last he heard from you for almost 3 weeks. You didn't show up for class in person, only opting to take the online course for awhile, and you wouldn't answer his texts or calls. One evening after not getting a response, Clark was fed up and he was ready to confront you about your sudden absence. When he got to your door he saw that it wasn't fully closed. He heard your muffled cries and made his way to make sure you were okay. He saw you burying your face in the pillow trying to quiet your cries. His arms wrapped around you like a blanket and you immediately began to calm down and feel better. After awhile when you calmed down, you tried to get up, but Clark held you still. He went and got you a glass of water and aspirin. He made sure you got everything down safely and he hovered over you not giving you room to escape.

"Are you okay?" He asked still caging you in. You nodded. "What's going on? Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we were friends? I would've been able to be here to help you but you shut me out and I want to know why?"

"Clark, really? Right now?"

"You're damn right, right now."

"You can't spend everyday with me and neglect Lois, its not right. She needs you to be there for her and you can't do that hanging around with me." You said trying to get from under him.

"She said something to you?"

"Of course she did, I assumed she'd spoken with you, I just didn't want to upset her or cause problems."

"You didn't want to upset her? Oh right, but you didn't think of how it would upset me, your friend?"

"Clark, are you even listening? Lois needs you she-"

"I'm not talking about Lois, I'm talking about you and me. You don't shut me out like that. Did you even consider what I would think or feel? Did you think of maybe coming to me and talking about it?"

"N-no, I-"

"No you didn't, you were being selfish!" He yelled making you feel bad. You'd never seen him so upset and you immediately wanted to make it right.

"Dude, I'm sorry okay. I just felt so bad that I was coming between your relationship, I just didn't want to upset her."

"Once again, we're not talking about her, we're talking about you and me. I'm trying to make you understand that what you did was hurtful."

"-and I'm explaining why I did it. I was asked to step back, so I did. What more should I have done?"

"You should've come to me! You talk to me and tell me what's going on."

"Clark, yes you are my friend, but that is mad disrespectful and I won't disrespect her. She came first, I'm just the little lost puppy you picked up okay? You can't neglect her you will lose her." you tried explaining to him. He stared at you for a second, before storming off. He went and stood on your patio to cool off and you took him a drink as a peace offering. When you handed it to him, he grabbed your hand in his.

"Don't ever do that again." He chastised before pulling you into a big hug. That night, you both cooked dinner together and sat to talk a bit more.

"Clark, I know you might not want to talk about it anymore, but I really do think you need to talk with Lois. She needs you more than you know."

"She doesn't need me, she hasn't needed me for a long time. We don't even sleep together anymore. I can't even remember the last time we had sex." he said taking a long swig of his beer. You shifted a bit uncomfortably. That was a huge no-no topic for you and you fought to keep the image from crossing your mind. You already felt bad for the very vivid dreams you'd been having about him, so vivid they'd jerk you awake.

"You really should talk to her." you whispered. "I-I have something I wanted to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" he asked curious.

"I met someone, we're just getting to know each other now, but I really like them. They're super awesome and super sweet, and before you ask, its not the guy from class." you said smiling and finally looking at him. You noticed that he looked pissed. His jaw was tight and he wouldn't look at you. "Dude you okay?" he sat silent for a moment too long. "Clark, what's wrong?" He didn't say anything, he just got up and walked out of your apartment. It was his turn to ghost you and you didn't speak with him again until you decided to go back to class in person and you'd hoped whatever was bugging him had passed. When you walked in class, he didn't even acknowledge you and you were hurt. You waited back after class to at least speak to him. Once everyone cleared out you tried talking to him.

"Hey, how've you been?" you asked carefully.

"Oh I've just been, trying to spend time with Lois as requested." He snipped at you.

"O-kay well, just wanted to check on you." you said turning to leave, but he grabbed your hand.

"No, don't leave. I'm sorry, its just...it been a really long day and I haven't talked to my friend in weeks. Come on, lets go to the office." He said leading you back to the back. You both sat back there catching up and joking.

"Well I have a favor to ask, and I promise you don't have to if you can't or don't want to, but I wanted to ask if you and Lois would like to come on a double date with me and my new partner this weekend."

The look he gave you quickly made you rethink asking him that question.

"I mean you don't have to, I understand if you have plans."

He stood stone still staring at you for way too long, then he smiled.

"Yeah, we'll be there. What time and where?" He asked.

What you'd missed was the deviousness dripping off of his voice because his smile made it seem like he was being nice. You gave him all the info and hugged him before waving goodbye.

"Dinner this weekend huh?" Clark said to himself. "Dinner is going to be very nice." He said before getting his material together for his next class.

#dark clark kent #x black reader #plus size reader #lois lane #henry cavill

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agentofmischief · 4 years ago

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Birthstone Legacy Challenge

Ok, I don’t post a lot on here, but I’m a huge fan of the sims. I’ve been playing it since gen 1 back in 2000. So, I’ve been having fun with challenges, especially the past couple years with 100 Baby, and I’ve found online. And after reading hearing and reading up on Lilsimsie’s Not So Berry Challenge, I had an idea of my own challenge. So, I thought I’d share if anyone else wanted to play along.

Disclaimer: These challenges mean nothing in regards to people born in that month. I simply took symbolism and cultural aspects of each stone to create a challenging and interesting playthroughs you might not think to do.

Lifespan requirements: Normal (not sure if it’s possible on Short, but if you want hard mode, do it).

The idea is to start with your month’s birthstone, then each generation is the next month’s stone for either 10 generations (traditional Legacy), or 12 if you wan to do the full year. You could also start on the month after your birth month with a full year play-through, so your birth month acts as a “finale”. Might be helpful if say your birth month is April, and you know your month’s stone is Diamond and to you it sounds like a finisher, or if your birth month is December, and you’d just prefer to start with January’s stone. It’s up to you.

These will just be listed month by month, so they are easy to find.

Like in the other color challenges, you want to model your sim with the stone’s colors in mind. You should also build their house with their stone’s color in mind.

1. January stone: GARNET

Color: Dark Red

Garnets have a high refractive index, which causes them to look as if they are emitting light. Due to this phenomenon, travelers during the crusades would carry them to ward off evil. The stone represents Faith, Love and Constance.

Traits: Good, Ambitious, Cheerful

Goals:

- Complete the Soulmate aspiration

- Complete the Law career as a judge.

- Must maintain career until death (meaning no retirement, quitting, or being fired).

- Must have at least 2 kids after the soulmate aspiration is fulfilled.

- All children must be raised with all green character values and no lower than Bs in school.

2. February stone: AMETHYST

Color: Purple

The word Amethyst comes from the Greek word, amethystos, meaning “not drunken.” This comes from a myth where Dionysus was so enraged, he vowed his wrath on the next human he saw, which was a young woman, Amethystos. To “save” this woman, Artemis turned her to stone (note to self, don’t ask Artemis to save you ever, because her track record sucks). Dionysus calmed at seeing the stone’s beauty, and poured his wine on it, giving the stone it’s purple color. In more recent centuries, amethysts have been associated with piety and rank in the Catholic Church, as bishops are given amethysts when they are appointed.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Snob (If you have Snowy escape, replace one of these with Proper).

Goals:

-Complete the Knowledge - Renaissance Sim aspiration.

-Complete the Education Career as a Professor.

-Can not go to bars or nightclubs

-Max out Logic, Writing, and a musical skill (Violin, Guitar, Piano, or Singing)

-Can never marry or enter into an official dating relationship; HOWEVER must have at least 1 kid at some point to continue the legacy. This can be through adoption, which is more likely if you want to play pure piety or you have an Ace sim in mind, and the adoptee must be a child or teen. The other option is through secret woohoos if you want to play the more historically accurate, seedy way. **If you are playing with Risky Woohoos, you can have max 2 kids living with you. All others children must be removed from the house and into a Townie’s home once they become toddlers.

3. March stone: AQUAMARINE

Color: Light Blue

Due to aquamarine’s sea-like color, they’ve long been associated with traveling and the sea. Sailors used to put them under their pillows to calm themselves. They are said to inspire peace and ward off poisons.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Glutton, Loner

Goals:

-Complete Angling Ace aspiration.

-Eat out of the trash 5 times without getting sick.

-Have an aquarium with 10 fish.

-Catch a vampire squid. ** Or if you have Island Living, you must become a mermaid.

-Must eat and learn to make Pufferfish Nigiri.

4. April stone: DIAMOND

Color: White/Silver

Diamond is the hardest stone on Earth, and is often associated with wealth and treasures. The word diamond comes from the greek word adamas, meaning unconquerable. They are the most popular of the stones, and so recently have been “Lab Grown.”

Traits: Ambitious, Insider, Perfectionist

Goals:

-Complete the Scientist career.

-Complete Leader of the Pack aspiration.

-Find all the crystals.

-Must clone a diamond.

-Become best friends with Judith Ward and have a framed selfie with her in your house.

-Date/marry someone in the Style-influencer career.

5. May stone: EMERALD

Color: Dark Green

Emeralds are an old stone, first mined in ancient Egypt. Cleopatra was known to wear them frequently. They are said to symbolize fertility, wisdom, and Spring. It’s also said to heal heartbreak.

Traits: Jealous, Romantic, Materialistic

Goals:

-Master Gardening skill.

-Date and 100% romance a politician, then break up with them.

-Have at least 3 kids from multiple partners (each must have reached 100% romance first).

-Breed a frog worth over $100

-Must complete Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

-Does not marry, UNLESS you have Strangerville, and can marry an Officer in the Military Branch. However, when they die, so does your sim.

6. June stone: PEARL

Color: White/Cream

Pearls are created by oysters and are considered the “perfect” gem, as it needs no man-mad alterations. Pearls are often attributed to wisdom through experience, as well as innocence and fertility.

Traits: Childish, Perfectionist, Family-oriented

Goals:

-Must have 5 kids before becoming an adult.

-Must complete the Curator aspiration.

-Must master 10 skills. ** If you are using Tiny House perks, 15 skills.

7. July stone: RUBY

Color: Bright Red

Rubies are well known for their blood-red color, earning their association with health and vitality. They are also symbols of love, passion, and prosperity.

Traits: Self-Assured, Romantic, Self-Absorbed

Goals:

-Complete Serial Romantic aspiration.

-Master Cooking, Athletic, and Charisma skills.

-Complete Doctor Career.

-Must Woohoo at least once in each: Closet, Jacuzzi, Observatory, Bush, Spaceship, Lighthouse, Pile of leaves, Shower, Coffin.

8. August stone: PERIDOT

Color: Light Green

Peridot is the stone of compassion, bringing health and peace to emotions and the mind. It inspires eloquence, creativity, and good cheer.

Traits: Creative, Vegetarian, Goofball

Goals:

-Complete the Painter Career.

-Master Painting, Photography, and Handiness skills.

-Paint 5 Masterpieces.

-Craft a bathtub of excellent quality.

-Complete Painter Extraordinaire aspiration.

9. September stone: SAPPHIRE

Color: Royal Blue

With the most famous sapphires being Princess Diana’s iconic engagement ring and The Heart of the Ocean in Titanic, it’s now wonder Sapphires hue long been associated with nobility and power. The stone symbolizes strength, loyalty, and focus through self-discipline.

Traits: Materialistic, Genius, Insider ** If you have snowy escape, Proper takes place for Materialistic.

Goals:

-Complete the Law Career as a Private Attorney.

-Complete the Mansion Baron aspiration.

-Must start a club with Wealthy requirement ($30,000+). *If you start a fraternity/sorority in University, it counts if wealthy is listed as a requirement.

-Max out Charisma, Logic, and Writing skills.

-Must marry another club leader.

-Must get Gold in Wedding Social Event, and pay full $1750. Minimum of 10 guests.

-Must have a son. (He does not HAVE to be the continuation of the Legacy, but he can if you want. Also, if you have a born daughter, but decide to transition her, that does not count. Since it’s a click of a button without game mechanic influence, it’s kind of cheating. HOWEVER, if you decide your born son should transition, it still counts. This is mostly to take the steps during pregnancy to make a boy (since we’ve all watched others influence for a girl 1000x), That or to keep going until “the odds are in your favor.”)

10. October stone: PINK TOURMALINE

Color: Pink

Pink Tourmaline, also known as October rose, represents humanity, sympathy to others, and humanitarian work. It’s believed to carry the virtue of love that is unconditional, offering comfort to children and lasting friendships.

Traits: Unflirty, Gloomy, Outgoing

Goals:

-Complete the Politician career as a Charity Organizer.

-Complete Friend to the World aspiration.

-Adopt 2 kids (Do not have to be legacy continuation).

-Max out friendship/be best friends with 4 sims before becoming an Adult. The friendship must be maintained throughout life.

-Have a rose garden.

-Write 5 Children’s books.

-Volunteer with family 5 times.

*If you get the pop-up asking to donate to charity, you must if you have the money.

11. November stone: CITRINE

Color: Dark Yellow (almost Gold)

Citrine’s yellow stone radiates happiness, creativity, and wealth. Named for it’s citrus like color, it’s no wonder it’s the stone for a month known for it’s food. Citrine is known also as the Merchant’s stone for it’s golden color.

Traits: Cheerful, Foodie, Creative

Goals:

-Complete Culinary Career.

-Complete Culinary aspiration.

-Master Cooking and baking skills.

-Own a fruit and vegetable garden with every possible fruit and veggie in your game.

-Own a Bakery or Restaurant.

-Cook an Excellent quality Grand Meal.

-Learn 10 Food Stall recipes.

12. December stone: Turquoise

Color: Blue/Green (Teal)

Turquoise is an odd one. In European cultures, it’s the stone of friendship and attracts money and luck, but is also frequently used in Evil Eye talismans. Historically, Montezuma II gifted these gems to Cortez, the Spanish Conquistador. The Apache used turquoise as well, as a charm on their bows for better aim.

Traits: Evil, Outgoing, Kleptomaniac

Goals:

-Max out Mischief and Charisma skills.

-Complete the Criminal Career.

-Complete Public Enemy aspiration.

-Start a Kleptomaniac club.

-Steal an object worth $10,000

-Marry someone with the Good trait, and cheat on them 5 times.

Happy simming!

#thesims #the sims legacy #sims challenge #legacy challenge #birthstone #The Sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 legacy #Birth Stone Challenge #birth stone legacy #birth stone #gemstone #gemstone challenge #gem challenge #lets play #color challenge #color legacy challenge #sims 4 color

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btsficsforthehumble · 4 years ago

Text

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Six

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.3k

The next day, you purposely run a little later than you normally would. You don’t know if you could endure another session of Taehyung being an actual menace at 9 o’clock in the morning. So, you take extra time to add some light makeup and pick out a pink checkered dress with a cream cardigan, and step out feeling cute, caffeinated, thanks to your morning coffee, and ready to tackle Calculus.

As you walk into the mostly full classroom, you naturally head to the spot you’ve stayed the last couple classes. This time however, you keep an eye out for Seokjin. Spotting him on the far side of the room, you send him a quick smile. Once he sees, he’s quick to send you one back with a nod.

He seems like a bit of a loner, you notice, with all of the other students engaged in hushed conversations around him, but with him seemingly content to lean on his head on his hand and stare off until class starts. He is strikingly handsome in a classical way that’s impossible to deny, which you suppose is intimidating. Coupled with him also being an older student in the class, it seems he creates a bubble around him that he himself is oblivious to.

You make eye contact with Hoseok as you head to your seat, to which he gives you a large toothy smile and a cute wave. You couldn’t hold the smile off of your own face if you tried, so you gave him a beaming grin with your own wave to accompany it.

Two seats behind Hoseok was the before-mentioned menace. His smile towards you was significantly less innocent. He was leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out far enough to be underneath your own seat, with his arms crossed. He seemed to be saying, “I’m too cool to be here.” After doing a judgmental scan of his posture, you raise an eyebrow and take your seat, and set your back firmly to him in hopes he’d get the message you didn’t want to be messed with today.

By some stroke of luck, your professor walks in almost immediately after your butt hits the seat. Pulling out your notebook, you steel yourself for the next hour of lecture in which you were refusing to let yourself get distracted. Even if Hoseok offered to study with you, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him by being clueless and then being a complete dead weight.

----

After another grueling class, you have to admit your fears about being dead weight feel closer to reality than what you’d want. In hindsight, you were really glad you took Hoseok’s offer to study. Well, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no way you’d turn that down even if you were a complete master at calculus. Hoseok is so bright and charming, and you feel drawn to him in the way flowers face the sun. He had such a happy and kind energy, that you have no doubt makes people from all walks of life love him.

Regardless of the boy’s personality, you are thankful for the fact that you had someone willing to help you with your least favorite subject. You need it.

You stand, and Hoseok soon follows. He turns to both you and Taehyung, “Are you both still good to study tonight? I know I need a review!” He lets out a laugh.

Taehyung answers before you get the chance. “Yeah, me too. Cafe Persona, right?”

You were a little surprised at his serious attitude. You hadn’t seen him act like he cared about anything, including his calculus grade, in the short time you’ve known him.

“Yep! Does that work? Y/n, are you still free tonight?” Hoseok answers, now looking at you expectantly.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, that works!”

“Great! Does seven sound okay?” Hoseok looks between you and Taehyung, causing you to glance at the other boy too. Taehyung was leaning with his hip to the edge of the chair, and ankles crossed with a straight look on his face. He balances relaxed and focused, and you can’t help but be intrigued by his attitude shift. He almost seemed like a different person from yesterday.

“Yep!”

“That works.”

You and Taehyung answer at the same time, causing Hoseok to grin at both of you. “Great! See you guys then!” Hoseok waves at you both before making his way out of the classroom, leaving you and Taehyung alone.

You give him an apprehensive look, waiting for him to say something flirty. Seeing the look, he gives you an understanding smile, seemingly not in the mood to mess with you. Slightly relieved, but honestly a little worried for him, you grab your back and go to leave. You pause, and look over your shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?” You surprise yourself as you speak. He has managed to worm himself into your heart at least slightly, it appears.

He looks up from his bent over position and gives you a small look of surprise, apparently just as bewildered by your words as you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well after working on a project last night,” he explains.

You tilt your head to the side, now curious. You’ve never really thought about his life --- his major, year, anything. “What is the project for?” you ask.

“A sculpture class. It fulfills a requirement for art history majors.”

You aren’t going to lie, him being artistic and into history made you more attracted to him. That major fit him well, from what you have seen. He dresses in baggy clothes, usually in neutral palettes, and instead of him looking messy, he makes everything he wears look sophisticated in a way that not many people are able to do.

You say with complete honesty, “That’s actually really cool. It makes sense for you.”

Now standing, he gives you a genuine smile. “Thanks, I really enjoy it. What about you, then?”

You divert your eyes, not wanting to admit you hadn’t chosen yet. “I actually am undecided…” you admit.

“Ah, well, life is long. You’ll figure it out. You’re smart.” His eyes hold yours as you speak, shining with sincerity.

You couldn’t help the blood rushing to your cheeks. You could tell that he really meant what he had said, not just saying it to be polite.

“Thank you, Taehyung… I hope you're right.” You glance down to your phone, breaking eye contact. It was a bit too intense for you. When you saw the time, you nearly jumped. You were close to being late for your next class.

“I’m running late, I’ll see you later!” you call over your shoulder, already hustling to leave the room. You hear him call out a bye as you leave, and feel his eyes following you until you get out of sight. He definitely left you with more complicated feelings towards him than what you had anticipated. But, that’s to think about another time --- you need to haul ass to get to Intro to Comp.

You make your way across campus surprisingly fast, dodging dozens of students who seemed to be less rushed than you. Nearly winded, you arrive just as the clock reaches the hour and the professor seems ready to begin. Embarrassed at the eyes on you as you walk in, you make your way to Jimin who you see sitting near the back as fast as you can without looking strange. You knew your face was red from the exertion and the embarrassment.

He laughed at your predicament as soon as you got close, and cleared the stuff of the seat he was saving for you.

“Shut up!” you whisper yell at him, but a smile breaks out on your face at his wide smile that showcased a just slightly crooked tooth. His eyes disappeared into crescent shapes at the force of his full cheeks lifting.

Once he calms down, and the lecture begins in relative peace, he leans over to you to speak without being overheard. “The LA was staring at you when you walked in, you know? His eyes never left you until you sat down.” He gives a conspiratorial grin.

“What? No way.” You give him an incredulous look. The LA seemed broadly disinterested --- disinterested in the class, disinterested in people, disinterested in you.

“I only noticed because I was watching him before you walked in,” Jimin admits with a giggle.

“He probably was just looking at me since I came in late, that’s all,” you justified.

Jimin raises a brow at you. “I guess we’ll see then, won’t we.” His eyes travel down the length of your torso and back up again, before giving you a smirk.

“Oh God. Whatever you are thinking, please don’t,” you whine.

He just widens his grin in response. Between Taehyung and Jimin, you felt that you’ve reached your mischief quota for the year already. You let your eyes slide shut and groan quietly.

----

“Come on y/n, don’t worry. I just have to ask him a question!” Jimin giggles, failing to hide his evil intentions. He wants to drag you up to have a quick chat with your broody LA, currently standing idle at the front of the room, watching the students filter out of the lecture hall.

“Sunbae if you do something embarrassing you owe me a drink,” you groan out. “Please, please be normal.”

“Don’t worry,” he draws out with a smile. A villainous smile, may you add. And with that, he drags you down the rows of chairs to the front of the room, stopping just short of Yoongi.

You hover slightly behind Jimin’s shoulder, wanting to leave but not wanting to abandon your friend. Yoongi looks back and forth between you and Jimin, and settles back on you, making you bristle slightly. It didn’t help that he had a delicate frown marring his features.

Jimin’s cheery voice quickly penetrates the awkward silence. “Hi, Yoongi right? My name’s Jimin! I was wondering if for the first project, we had to have a bridge structure? Or if we could use a double chorus maybe? Doctor Choi didn’t specify in class today.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “For the first project, use the traditional structure. Choi will grade you harsher if he thinks you’re a try-hard,” he gruffly answers.

“Hm, I see. I can be a bit overzealous at times, when I’m interested in something,” Jimin replies, this time in a much lower pitch. You watch his eyes roam Yoongi’s figure as he speaks, not bothering to disguise his interest.

“Can’t we all.” Yoongi’s voice is somehow even gruffer than before. And this time, he is staring straight at you as he replies.

Jimin notices, and gives a knowing smirk your direction. “Thanks Yoongi, see you next class!” Jimin sing-songs with a smile. He grabs your wrist, leading you out of the auditorium.

It’s a good thing he does, because your brain was short-circuiting after that interaction. You feel like a deer in the headlights, and nearly stumble as you try to keep pace with Jimin.

As soon as you walk out of the building, Jimin lets out a cackle, bending over from it’s force. “I told you! He definitely thinks you're hot, I mean, did you see the way he was looking at you? He looked like he wanted to eat you right there and then!” He lets out another loud laugh at his words.

You could feel your cheeks flaming. “Ugh, what the hell was that! Why’d you even say that to him! YOU were the one trying to eat HIM!” you yell slightly, waving your arms like a crazy person.

His laughter only gets louder at your response. “I wanted to test a theory! While I wish I was wrong and he wanted a piece of me, he only had eyes for you, darling.” His laughter died down slightly. “You look really pretty today, I don’t blame him,” he adds. His gaze turns slightly wistful, but it only lasts a second before he skips over to you and links your arms.

“That’s no reason to do all of that! You’re so embarrassing, sunbae!” You look up at him, giving him your best pout.

He pulls you closer, forcing your face to rest against his shoulder slightly. “Ah, the hot LA thinks you're cute! This is a win, my dear.” He gives a smirk down at you.

“I don’t know if that’s it. He seems kind of mean… maybe he’s just socially awkward or something,” you guess.

Jimin tilts his head, and says, “Maybe. Either way I know I had fun, your blush is too cute.” He gives you another mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes, and reach in your bag to check your phone. You needed to get some work done before your meeting with Hoseok and Taehyung.

Seeing the time, you quickly unlink your arms from Jimin’s and go to say goodbye. You want to have enough time to run though some practice problems before you go later, and you knew it was going to take you a while. It seems the time was causing you to have to cut all your conversations short today, unfortunately.

“Bye sunbae, I have to go. Oh, and you owe me a drink!” you declare.

He gives you a pout of his own at your leaving, but is quick to transform into a wide grin at your reminder.

“This weekend!” he calls as you start backing up. You roll your eyes in response, and turn around to walk in the direction of your apartment. It was time to grind out some work, and not think of the weird interactions with boys that had happened today.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #houseofddaeng

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away-from-anthills · 4 years ago

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chapter five-

He recalled what Tatteredstar had said at the last Gathering as Whitetooth’s words echoed throughout his heart.

Rosefire. He had done little wrong- in his eyes, the only hope for a future was the Clans united. In his eyes, Tatteredstar and Eelwhisker were enemies that had to be vanquished. And yet his attempt at rebellion was gone as soon as it began, like a hare plucking and eating a sprout from the ground. He was killed, or at least that was what Tatteredstar’s dark tone implied, and as far as Antstar knew those who worked with him were likely either on close watch or driven out entirely. He presented a weakness and a challenge to her leadership, and so she handily dispatched him.

But could he say the same of Sparkthistle?

There was no indication she was to actually plan something. There was no indication she had the willpower to truly try to stop Antstar. But every so often, there was this inescapable look in her eye of hatred, and every time Antstar caught it he felt sick.

Would the Clan be better off without her?

Antstar had been just made a warrior when Sparkthistle and Cherrycloud had been born. Their mother was one of the most respected warriors in her Clan at the time, and she had great expectations thrust upon her two daughters. Initially, she adored Sparkkit the most, as Sparkkit had ambitions that Cherrykit did not. She made her favoritism shockingly clear, despite the warnings of Crowflower. But as time went on, when the two mollies were apprenticed, Cherrypaw emerged the more naturally gifted one while Sparkpaw struggled. Their mother’s opinions on them flipped dramatically. Now it was Cherrycloud that could do no wrong, Cherrycloud that deserved all the love in the world; Sparkthistle was a candy wrapper, read once and then discarded. Sparkthistle had been deeply embittered ever since- part of it from cynicism, and part of it because she wanted to emulate her mother to some extent.

It wouldn’t be fair to deny Sparkthistle the rest of her life, to cut her off short. But she had been this way ever since she was an apprentice, and there was no sign she would ever change. But it was as if Whitetooth’s words had bored a hole in his skull. And Sparkthistle is never going to get better, either.

“You’re thinking about what warrior name you want to give me, aren’t you,” said a cheeky voice as Antstar left his thoughts and sunk back to earth. It was Spiderpaw, looking back at him as she sprang into the grasses.

“You haven’t passed your assessment yet,” he reminded her.

“I know I will.” Spiderpaw had all the confidence of a wren challenging a bull. She smirked and trotted away to complete her assessment- then, suddenly, stopped in her tracks and looked back to see if Antstar was watching.

“I have to watch you in secret.” Antstar nodded his head upward, as if he were pushing her away. “Go on.”

She slunk into the grasses, which were turning the deep golden color that late greenleaf always brought upon itself. The sun peeked out from the pitch-black clouds above them, giving everything a surreal yellow glow. Away Spiderpaw went to get herself into the swing of hunting- and as she did, Antstar started to pace in circles, thinking about the Sparkthistle predicament.

Mentor and apprentice were on the far end of WindClan territory, away from the Clan, away from the other Clans, away from the world. Besides the slight rustle of grasses that followed Spiderpaw as she stalked a rabbit and the distant creaks and sighs of the windmills on the horizon, Antstar found the air deathly still, except for his thoughts which buzzed within him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a figure. It was Twoleg-like in shape and size, and after cowering from it instinctively, Antstar realized it was a familiar figure. Shalestar told him back when he was apprenticed that the object was called “Scare Crow”, and that the loners who lived in the barn thought of it as a friend. Scare Crow was moved around by the farmers to keep birds off the nearby crops, but yet it always remained perfectly still, as its skin was burlap and its veins were hay straw.

“Did it always sit like that?” he had asked.

“Perhaps.” Shalestar had looked off into the horizon, the warmth of being about to tell a good story curling up the corners of his lips. “Legend has it that, many moons ago, StarClan took pity upon Scare Crow, and reanimated him to come alive and live among the Clans. His humanoid, flawed figure was made feline. His burlap became handsome tawny tabby fur, his straw became flesh and blood, and his buttons became two beautiful eyes the color of harvested wheat. Scare Crow was sent to live among the Clans, and so he did- but, having once not been a cat, he never truly fit in, despite the beautiful appearance StarClan gifted him. When he was trying to woo a molly to take as his mate, they strolled together through Sunningrocks. In the reflection of the Sunningrocks’s water lay Scare Crow’s true self- ragged, ugly, weather-beaten and lopsided. He ran away, sobbing at the discovery of who he truly was, and StarClan realized then that it was more humane, more gentle, more right to strip him of his mortal coil and turn him back into his true self as the being of straw and burlap. He has remained here ever since.”

More humane. More gentle. More right. More right to stop them. More right to end them.

More right to kill them.

Sparkthistle had barely any friends. Her bitter, dour nature led her to be quite an outcast in the Clan’s community, save for Stoatslink, and even then he didn’t seem entirely approving of her. She had to be miserable. And the Clan was miserable any time they interacted with her. Furthermore, if she was turning on Antstar, she could turn on all the community. If a rival Clan asked her for intel, she could flip. She had little attachment to anyone in the Clan, so it was excruciatingly imaginable that her hatred for Antstar would outweigh her loyalty to WindClan…

His train of thought was halted by a squeak as Spiderpaw bit through the throat of a juvenile rabbit. He watched as the dark gray tabby carefully lined up her kill by a fallen log- leaving plenty of space for the next prey she was to catch.

He knew he was going to pass her. How couldn’t he? She had already proven herself. But having her hunt alone and complete the traditional assessment gave Antstar the space he needed to process the decision he already felt doomed to make.

Sparkthistle could find peace in the afterlife. She had never done anything deserving of Hell, no matter how many times Antstar had probably muttered that under his breath when dealing with her. Perhaps she could calm herself in the heavens in a way that she could never truly do in her mortal life. StarClan would be a kinder land than the rough earth and harsh sky of WindClan.

Maybe he was trying to rationalize himself here.

But then again- what could be gained from her continued flesh-and-blood existence? At best she was an annoyance. At worst… at worst she was an outright security risk.

There was the thumping of paws. Spiderpaw was in full chase, a shrew just before her. It ducked one way and another, around the bend and back again, into and through a log. Faster and faster they went, despite the shrew being so small, so unnecessary, so unimpactful in the grand scheme of the world at large and its moon. And as Antstar made his decision- as Antstar looked to the sky, looked to the unblinking amber sun, hoping that StarClan was with him and approved, hoping that StarClan knew he was doing this for WindClan’s sake- she leapt, and the shrew went out with a final cry, so unimportant and yet defiant to the last in spite of the very jaws that would always defeat it.

As they went home, Spiderpaw holding her catches and lost in the daydreams of what her warrior ceremony might be like, Antstar could only think of what he was about to do. Spiderpaw’s warrior name- something that once seemed so momentous, so important only a scant few days ago- already felt dwarfed by the matter of Sparkthistle’s fate. Antstar paused by the edge of the medicine den. The air he was about to speak with felt like it was caught in his throat. Whitethroat slunk out, always alert, almost as if they already knew he was there.

“About what you said a few days ago.”

Whitetooth nodded attentively.

“…Can we go through with it tonight? As fast as possible, I- I don’t want to think about it too hard.”

Whitetooth took a moment to respond, already visibly figuring out how they would do it. They looked towards the den, where Marblepaw was chewing up a poultice, and then into the general direction of the gorge. Ears pricked, eyes intense, looking almost more like a ferret surveying the land than a cat.

And then, they nodded. A transaction was about to begin.

“The weather is ripe for it… As you wish, Antstar. I am your dearest servant.”

That night, the sky was dark. Thick black clouds had continued to roll in, and there was the distant rumble of storms beyond the horizons. Brief, misty scatters of rain speckled the dusty earth.

Antstar watched the Clan go to sleep, one by one. While some still decided to sleep out in the open hollow, others that were worried about the chance of storm hid away in burrows scattered throughout the camp area, and slowly, the Clan came to rest. He had asked there be no guards or vigils held on this night- while the threat of impending rain acted as justification, he needed there to be no eyes, nothing that could possibly spot him when he and Whitetooth figured out what to do with the body.

“I tell you,” snarled a certain ginger tabby from afar, “I am not sick. I don’t know why you think I am.”

Whitetooth, however, wasn’t fettered. They circled her like an adder, their brown tail gently stroking her flank as if they were attempting to tame a wild horse. “I am aware you may think that. But I can already recognize symptoms of kittencough in you, and the sickness takes a few days to set in. If we treat you now, you won’t be sick later.”

Sparkthistle snarled in defiance, but after a moment of contemplation, she followed Whitetooth into the abandoned rabbit burrow that made up the medicine den. “Fine. So long as you make this quick, pal.”

As she did so, Whitetooth scurried over to Antstar, in that silent, almost eel-like way they were so skilled at. They leaned in slightly and began to whisper. “When I give you the signal-“ -they twitched their left ear- “I want you to come in. We must do this tonight, Antstar- else they may catch onto us.”

From there, Antstar carefully watched, pacing around camp to get a good look into the medicine den. Marblepaw seemed fast asleep at the entrance, her head resting upon a clump of mosses she had fetched earlier that day. In fact, just about everyone was asleep now save for the leader, his medicine cat, and their target. Sparkthistle caught the amber glow of Antstar’s eyes and stared at him as Whitetooth took something small and dark and stuffed it into a dead shrew.

“Kittencough,” they began, speaking in the voice of a lecturing mentor, “is usually much like a mild case of whitecough. The issue, however, is that it is very contagious and can be deadly for kits and elders. Usually, we treat it with whitecough medicines and drowsiness-inducing herbs, so that way the cat involved does not spread it and risk hurting the most vulnerable.”

But Sparkthistle’s yellowish-amber eyes indicated she had paid little attention to their monologue. “Why is Antstar there?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“He and I are having a conversation once you fall asleep. Mostly about the next Moonstone meeting, StarClan, those types of affairs. That, and figuring out what we��ll do about herbs come leaf-fall.”

“In the night? With this weather?”

“The night lends impulse to new ideas, my Clanmate.”

And then- slowly, slyly, they brought the shrew towards her. The very same shrew Spiderpaw had caught in her apprentice exam. For a brief moment that felt like nine lives and a day, Whitetooth made eye contact with Antstar.

This was it. The last chance to stop now. The last chance to keep Sparkthistle alive.

Every joint in Antstar’s limbs wanted to move, to give a last-minute refusal. And yet, he stood perfectly still.

Whitetooth turned back to Sparkthistle. For a moment it felt in Antstar’s mind as though she had already died. Perhaps, in a sense, she had.

“Here. I want you to take this. Medicine can trouble an empty belly if one is not careful.”

Sparkthistle sniffed it carefully, her pink speckled nose twitching with apprehension. Finally, she gave in, slowly taking a mouthful, ripping away at the skin.

“Now, I’ve put some medicines into this shrew of yours, as to clear out the kittencough. You shall feel drowsy. But- and this is important- do not be alarmed.”

There was a crunch as she bit into the black seeds that Whitetooth had enclosed within the shrew’s flesh.

“Everything is going to be perfectly fine.”

For a moment, Sparkthistle remained perfectly unaffected, continuing to nose around the shrew to pick out its best meat. Suddenly, however, her paw began to twitch. She looked around uneasily, as if her vision was beginning to spot out. She looked at Whitetooth, but Whitetooth gave her the same soothing stare they always had.

“Is it supposed to feel-“

“Like that? Yes.”

She got up to her paws, swaying back and forth like a tree about to topple in a storm. Saliva began to bubble from her jaw.

“I’ve had drowsiness herbs before, and they’ve-“ She struggled to speak. The deathberries had already coursed through her tongue, gradually paralyzing it. Her slurred words devolved into mumbled, slobbery vocalizations. Then, suddenly, Whitetooth knocked her to the ground and pinned her there.

They twitched their right ear as they stared at Antstar. That was the signal.

Antstar rushed in, silently, holding the ginger molly down as spasms shook her. She looked up at him, and he pushed her head into the ground to keep her still as she writhed and tried best she could to fight back. Her stare back at him bore into his very heart, gripping and shaking his very being. She had figured out what was going on, now. This was no look of anger, or of annoyance, or even of betrayal. No, this was a look Antstar had only seen before a scant few times. The look of a cat freezing as a monster runs out before them. The look of a young hare as a patrol leader strikes the killing blow. It was a look of pure, unadulterated horror.

Antstar stepped back instinctively. For a second, a further worry flashed through his head- had he let her go?

But the ginger body simply sank to the earth like a rug wet from saliva and rustled with struggle, sinking inward like a balloon that had slowly deflated from a puncture.

Sparkthistle was gone.

Antstar felt worry creep in as he scouted the clearing, over and over again to make sure the glint of no eye caught him. Behind him, he could hear Whitetooth clean up the blood-tinged cluster of foamy saliva that had pooled around Sparkthistle’s head. For a moment, he checked to ensure that Marblepaw was still asleep, and he felt slight relief when he saw the apprentice still lay in her nest, seemingly deep within a dream.

“Now,” Whitetooth whispered, stepping back as if they were admiring their own handiwork of having cleaned up the den. “What we’ll do is drag this over to the gorge. You would like to hide the body, correct?”

Antstar nodded fervently.

“Right. I know exactly what we shall do.” They picked up Sparkthistle by the scruff of her neck. Her shoulders hung limply. The white medicine cat indicated the other half of her body, and Antstar picked it up by the lower spine. Carefully, the two cats dragged her out and away without making a sound, through the gorse tunnel and out of camp. Dust gathered on her paws as they were dragged across the earth. Whitetooth’s grip was confident, certain; Antstar’s was far shakier and he had to fight to keep his jaw clamped. He had never realized how small Sparkthistle was. How small any cat was, really. It felt as though he were asleep in the leader’s den, and this was all some mad dream that he was watching from the distance of the mind.

Suddenly, Whitetooth came to a stop, and Antstar had to stop himself from falling forward onto the body. They looked down into the river, which looked as black and endless as the clouded sky that loomed above them, and then across to ensure no RiverClan cat had caught sight of them.

“…Why stop here?” Antstar started to ask, but his question was answered by the precise stare that Whitetooth was sending into the depths of the waters below.

“Check to make sure there’s no blood on her or sign of injury,” they instructed. Antstar carefully looked over the body, which had gradually grown a tad stiff. There was still a line of froth around her lip, but besides this, nothing had remained of the desperate struggle from earlier.

“…Nothing of the sort.”

“Good.”

“… We’re going to throw her into the river, right?”

“I knew you had figured it out already. You’re a smart cat. Any scent of deathberry- or us- will be soaked away by the water. If she is dragged away by the current, we shall say she clearly ran off because of her distaste towards your leadership.”

“And if she is found, she…?”

“She stumbled over the edge. Lots of cats have fallen to their deaths here. It wouldn’t look a moment out of place.”

Antstar pushed the body over. It rolled lopsidedly, like a chipped pebble; and soon slipped off the edge. Turning over itself, flank over flank, it fell into the black river and was swallowed up by the hungry waves. There was a hint of orange, and then it was gone.

Antstar looked to Whitetooth. “Can we…” His throat choked upon itself. “Can we never speak of this again?”

Whitetooth nodded. A talon of lightning darted out of one of the clouds nearby, and there was a corresponding grunt of thunder.

They walked back to camp, side by side, master and servant. Antstar looked at the ground, not daring to look ahead; Whitetooth, unflinching as ever, looked right ahead, squinting slightly to keep the dapples of raindrops from hitting their eyes. They slipped into the medicine den, doing one last check to make sure any indication of a struggle had vanished.

Everything was silent, there. Clumps of moss, diligently organized by type and age, lined the den. The nests, clean as ever, were empty. Except for one, which held Marblepaw.

Antstar paid close attention to Marblepaw’s figure. She was shuddering a bit, her breath shaky. Was she having a nightmare? Or- or had she-

Antstar felt his nerves coil in terror as he realized her amber eyes were wide open.

“Whitetooth!” he whispered, a sudden sharpness to the syllables as panic clutched him. “Whitetooth, your apprentice-“

But Whitetooth was unfettered as ever. “Do not fear, Antstar.” They laid a paw on Marblepaw’s shoulder, and she recoiled slightly, gasping with fright. But she stayed in position, letting the medicine cat’s pale, cold pawpads touch her warm dark tabby pelt.

“She can keep a secret very well,” they said, a sudden darkness in their words. “And if not- I can make her keep it.”

This was wrong. This was very, very wrong, and Antstar felt a pang of sympathy for the little apprentice. It was only now he realized he had never seen her befriend anyone else in the Clan.

But it had to be done. For WindClan.

And so, Antstar walked off to the leaders’ den. Just as he got in, rain fell in great, big curtains, obscuring his view of camp. He checked for a moment if he could see any glitters of light from his Clanmates’ eyes, in case they had awoken and seen at least something, but he was reassured by the uniformly dark rainy landscape before him. Slowly, his trembling breaths began to ease into sleep once more.

He thought of Whitetooth, of Marblepaw, even Sparkthistle. How much had changed in the past few hours alone. He had gone from leader, to murderer-

No! He was no murderer, he told himself. He had simply -disposed- of her. She was leading a rotten life and all he had done was let her leave it. And if he truly had murdered her, it was for the best of WindClan, for their safety. If warriors could kill in the midst of battle, if medicine cats could end the suffering of the burdened, nothing he had done was out of line. It was the best for everybody.

But when he looked back to the sky, to be reassured by starlight, all he found was the thick rain battering the earth.

#warrior cats #Warrior Cats OCs #story

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harley-michaels-main · 3 years ago

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Hi how's your day? Can you do a Demon Slayer match up?

I'm usually quiet, calm, soft spoken, loud when angry (I’m usually like that), I'm straight. My sign is Virgo. Personality are calm, kind-hearted, sarcastic (sometimes), childish (sometimes only).

I am usually a loner. I never interact with people much. I had social problems in talking to people outside the internet. I never liked people who are so loud, nosy, talkative, and a bit of a chatterbox. I spent my time alone reading, drawing, sometimes humming a song. But I'm okay with people who are quiet and those who had common sense.

Likes: Family friendly anime (like Yu-Gi-Oh!), drawing, butterflies, astronomy, writing stories that pop in my head, reading, a few manga I know, people that are quiet yet comforting to be around, Harry Potter, movies that are family friendly.

Dislikes: People who are being nosy, Violence, People who are being too talkative, loud noises, bullies, spiders, and rats.

Hi lovely! You sound like such a lovely person and I would love to get to know you better. I think I know just the person who would like to as well!

Your Demon Slayer Match Up is...

Tanjiro Kamado

Tanjiro had admired you from the moment he met you, much like he does with everyone else. He admired that you were someone who cared for people and how nice you were.

He could tell that you were a genuine person which made him want to get to know you better.

As he got to know you, it didn't take him long to realize that you didn't like to be around a lot of people. Thus, he only spoke to you when he was alone so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable around Inosuke and Zenitsu.

He enjoyed the time that he spent with you because it allowed him a moment or two to forget the horrors of the outside world. You reminded him of his times on the mountain where he could relax.

It didn't take long for his feelings for you to grow, but he didn't want to bring you into the problems of his life which made him hide his feelings for a long time.

When he finally tells you how he feels, it takes him a while to be able to act on it. He is still worried about pulling you into his world, but he does start to open up to you more.

Tanjiro enjoys sitting with you and not worrying about anything. He thinks about how peaceful it is to relax with you and how he wishes to stay like this for as long as possible.

As a partner, Tanjiro is always one to put your needs before his. He always worries about you and thinks about how to keep you safe.

He shows his love through Acts of Service, so never be surprised to come how and find a few things done around your place. That door that never fully shut is now almost brand new.

He also likes to leave fresh flowers for you every week, just to give you something to remind you of him.

He is someone who will always try his best to keep you happy. He understands that no one can be happy 24/7, so he will do what he can to make sure you are happy.

If you need time alone, he will make sure no one disturbs you. If you need some advice, he will do what he can to give you the best.

All in all, Tanjiro is someone who will always make sure that you are comfortable and safe.

#match up #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #tanjiro #tanjiro kamado

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hungrywhovianjedi · 4 years ago

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Twin Moons

read also on my AO3 and my FF.net read the rest here prologue chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Premise of the story: Obi-Wan never took Luke to Tatooine in fact they overshot the force forsaken dustball completely and instead Luke grew up on the planet Lothal being trained to become a Jedi like his father before him. Ezra Bridger is an orphan loner who only makes an exception to his solitude for one boy. The boy who helped him out when he was seven, and that Ezra always seems to get into trouble.

NOW FOR THE BIG REVEAL The cover of Twin Moons art is by the amazingly talented @sunflova

He took it all back, when he said Luke was more like his mother he took it back, as he looked through the wreckage that was a speeder bike and tie fighter he admitted it. He raised another Anakin. Yet another Skywalker with a reckless streak that caused chaos wherever he went. This level of Reckless he hadn't seen in fifteen years!

He knew Luke was alive, despite his initial panic, he could still feel the steady if dull connection between them, and had felt the fear when Luke noticed he was starting to lose his sense of his mentor in the force.

More concerning was still the cold weight that had settled over Lothal, only that coldness made him glad Luke was not on this planet right now, a shadow had come to land on this planet, and it was better that Luke not encounter it.

Feeling this darkness was like being pushed back in time, the worst night of his life. He was suddenly facing Anakin on Mustafar. He didn't know what brought him here, but Vader was on Lothal, and Ben was prepared for the worst.

Although preferably he would avoid his former apprentice completely, and find a ship to follow Luke off the planet. He knew the boy was frightened, could feel it in their bond. He sent a wordless reassurance through the force, and only hoped Luke would receive it.

~~~~~~~

Anger burned through him, a red hot flame cutting through everything. The first thing he gets told upon landing is of incompetence. An entire shipment of arms lost to, as the reports and security footage said, two smugglers and children. He watched again the footage showed two young boys jumping a median on a stolen speeder. His eyes were drawn again to the boy driving a halo of golden hair, and a stern set to his mouth. There was something deeply familiar about the boy, but he couldn't place it.

"Get me agent Kallus" He ordered, then after a moment of thought, "and bring me the sorry excuse of a commander that claims to be in charge of this battalion"

"Yes sir!" The trooper by the door saluted, and marched through the door.

Stormtroopers, he sneered at the thought, he missed the Clones, he never had mishaps like this when he commanded the 501st. The Clones would have deftly handled the thieves, and he wouldn't have to get ISB involved. However the Clones were made dispensable, their advanced aging process taking its toll, and they were all but broken down shells now. They kept a few on to train legions of troopers, but otherwise they were dead or AWOL. One of these was his once Captain and Friend CT7567 Rex. He was disappointed when he heard that Rex's ship went down.

To this day he still got the pang in his chest about the reality of that day. Ahsoka… Rex wasn't the only friend he lost then.

"Good luck" the last words spoken between them, he would never forget the pain of finding her saber in the wreckage of that venator, knowing that he inadvertently caused her demise.

He clenched his fist, what was wrong with him? Why was he being haunted by the past of Anakin Skywalker after all these years, it was like something on this planet was pulling all of the things that he had buried to the surface. It all began with that presence, like a light in the darkness so much like Padmè it hurt.

"My lord" the voice pulled the sith lord from his thoughts.

He turned to face the men who entered, "Agent Kallus, Commander Arescko. It has been brought to my attention that the afternoon's fiasco, was in fact not the first of such disturbances to happen under your watchful eye, and yet these thieves, remain unapprehended"

Arescko swallowed, visibly uncomfortable with facing Vader. "My Lord, these brigands knew our protocol, and were waiting in position"

Vader folded his arms, "so it was your protocol to have a secured imperial comm unit stolen? Or was it your protocol that caused several casualties, and the loss of thousands of credits worth of stolen firepower? The fact is Commander, if you had been diligent in your duties these brigands would not have had the chance to ambush your troops. Reports across Lothal have spoken of this crew, and yet you did nothing to prepare your men for the inevitable attack"

The commander shook, trying to remain calm. He knew of Vader's reputation, and what usually happened to those who dissatisfied him. "I assure you my lord-"his words cut off sharply into choking gasps.

"I will not abide incompetence commander"

Kallus shifted uncomfortably as the commander's choked breathing faded, and Vader dropped the man to the ground. Kallus did not check if the man was still alive, he was certain that Vader would not have released him if that was the case.

"Agent Kallus, do you know what these attacks suggest?"

"Yes My Lord. The Imperial security bureau pays attention to patterns, and this is shaping to form a spark of rebellion" he stood at attention, not wavering under the gaze of Darth Vader, "I assure you, since being deployed here, I have made preparations for the next strike these would be rebels make. I have set up a trap for them. We will crush this spark of rebellion"

"See that you do" Vader replied tersely, "and when you do, the boy on those tapes, bring him to me alive. There is something familiar about him"

Kallus saluted and walked out.

~~~~~~~

Space… they were in space, force knows how far away from Lothal, Luke could barely sense Ben in his mind, and it unnerved him. Ben was the constant in his life. Since as long as he remembered it was him and Ben. Going to the market, meditation training together, exploring the mountains of Lothal, training with his saber, each time Ben was there. His absence was like a cold dark spot in his mind. After watching the hyperspace jump, the man, who finally introduced himself as Kanan, had taken him to the cockpit where he met the pilot, Hera.

He had to admit, he admired Hera's courage, facing down the Empire in an old freighter, and he was set slightly at ease when the Twilek told him they would be returning to Lothal as soon as she could calculate the next jump.

"Let me go! You can't keep me here, take us back to Lothal!" Ezra bellowed as Zeb hauled him into the cockpit.

Luke looked back to his friend and saw the noted relief the other boy showed.

"Relax, that's exactly what we're doing" Hera's voice held an edge of humor.

Ezra looked panicked, "wait, now? With the Empire chasing us?"

Luke spoke up then, "it's okay Ez, she lost the fighters" he looked up at Hera, "she's an amazing pilot"

The woman seemed pleased with his praise, "like the kid said, we lost the fighters when we jumped and the ghost can scramble its signature so they can't track us when we return"

"Oh, that's pretty cool" Ezra looked stunned, but like always shook it off, and smirked, "alright, so just drop me, Luke and our blasters off outside of capital city"

The door slid open, Kanan and Sabine walking in

"They're not your blasters" Sabine stated, brushing past Ezra, shooting Luke a quick smile.

"And we're not going back to Capital City, jobs not done." Kanan finished.

Luke bit his lip, Hera hadn't mentioned that they weren't being taken back home, "We're not?"

Hera shook her head, "we have a deadline to meet, then we'll get both of you back where you belong if that's still what you want"

Luke nodded, he really did, he missed his uncle, and he only hoped where they landed was close enough for him to reach Ben again.

~~~~~~

Ezra was fuming, how dare these people refuse to bring them home! He didn't care about their job, he wanted his blasters so he could sell them on the black market and have a little cash to live off of, then there was the fact that Luke was acting weird.

The blonde was usually so happy and talkative, he had barely said a word since they jumped onto this ship seeming almost fearful of the crew.

Then there were these people they treated Luke like some lost little kid, and him? They treated him like a common Loth-rat he hated it. Ezra wanted to go home, wanted his best friend back, and never wanted to see this ship again!

He sat in one of the bucket seats in the cockpit, Luke in the other, legs pulled to his chest, head bowed and eyes closed. Ezra wondered if he was sleeping.

"We're coming for a landing, you boys want to stretch your legs? We'll be here for a while"

Ezra glanced again at Luke who hadn't even stirred, but he saw a smile on the other boy's face that hadn't been there before. He always marveled at the way Luke could do that, just drop into total relaxation at the drop of a hat, he had seen the boy do it many times, at times it was almost like he was seeing nothing and everything at the same time. Ezra envied the ease with which Luke found peace, and sometimes wished he could be more like him. He knew he was brash and abrasive, but he couldn’t help it. Being the way he was, it was the only thing that allowed him to live on his own. It gave him the aura that kept people from messing with him. Be abrasive and they left you alone. It worked on everyone.

Everyone except Luke it seemed.

~~~~~~

The force surrounded him, he gathered his fear and uncertainty and released it to the force. It took longer this time than usual to find his center and drop into a meditative trance, the alien sounds of the ship invading his thoughts. In the end, he latched onto the familiar. He reached out in the force and found Ezra, the other boys presence, a soothing balm.

Luke breathed in, and out steadily, looking to lose himself in the force. Take his anger release it, his fear release it, his uncertainty release it. He took in a deep breath, and silently repeated the words Ben would tell him as the older man taught Luke to find his place in the force.

Emotion, yet peace

He took the emotions that had been at war in him and pushed them away, they belonged to the force.

Ignorance, yet knowledge

He released the questions that had been hounding him, force willing someday they would be answered, they also belonged to the force.

Passion, yet serenity

He pulled on the peace he found in the force, allowing it to swallow him whole, his passion now belonged to the force.

Chaos, yet harmony

Chaos surrounded him, burning through Zeb and Ezra, Chopper the droid was certainly a character of chaos, but he wouldn't allow it to touch him, his chaos belonged to the force.

Death, yet the force

Like many times he felt the caress of a woman's hand on his cheek, people didn't keep themselves in the force Ben said, but Luke knew he was wrong, in his meditation, he felt his mother, her hand on his skin, her voice in his ear. When he realized what it was, he sought also the touch of his father, but the force had stopped him, a black vortex before him, that threatened to swallow him. He turned from the vortex and released his mothers touch to the force. His life belonged to the force.

Emotion, yet peace

Ignorance, yet knowledge

Passion, yet serenity

Chaos, yet harmony

Death, yet the force

This time like many as he moved through the force, he found a dormant tether, one that neither held taught nor hung loosely, it was formed much like his and Ben's, yet somehow deeper, he tried to follow it once when he was younger, but had only been shown a vision of a young girl looking around in a panic. He tried to speak through the tether once, like he did with Ben, only to be cut off from the bond completely with the force of a psychic scream.

He once asked Ben, who told him it was a connection in the force that he was not yet meant to learn. Luke always wondered who the girl at the other end was, and why she never reached back, but after being cast out, he left it alone.

Finally he reached for the bond that was always there and pulled lightly, almost crying with joy, when he was answered almost instantly.

Luke! Where are you, what happened, are you safe?

I'm safe Ben, I'm in a ship heading back to Lothal, Ezra had a bad plan, we ended up getting chased by Stormtroopers the only way out was to jump on a ship with some smugglers, but I think they're okay…

We will talk about all of that soon, but for now I need you to promise me something Luke, stay where you are. If you are safe with these people, stay with them. Someone has come to Lothal, and it is safer for you to stay away from Capital City.

Ben, I don't understand, why wouldn't you want me to come home?

Luke. I promise, I will explain everything soon. For right now however, I need you to stay there. I will find you it is no longer safe here.

Luke froze, and could feel a stab of ice into his heart, making him lose part of his grasp on the force. It almost felt like somehow someone was probing the bond. No not probing the bond almost consuming it a cold force that reminded him of the swirling darkness that surrounded the spot in the force his father should have been. It was terrifying he had never felt anything like it. The cold threatening to swallow him whole. It blanketed the force around them, and Luke almost pulled away, being calmed only when Ben once more spoke through their bond.

Calm down Luke, remember your training, the force will be with you, and no matter what or however far you stray I will be with you always

Ben I'm frightened

The force has a plan for us Luke, and something tells me it doesn't end here. Remember Luke. I love you as though you are my own son, and I will see you soon, this I promise.

Luke was pulled from his meditation then, a rough hand on his shoulder

"Wake up kid, time to move, grab a crate, pull your weight" Zeb instructed, before he stomped out of the room. Luke looked outside and saw Lothal's twin moons shining through the front window of the ship.

#whovian writes #star wars ff #star wars rebels #star wars original trilogy #skybridger #Luke Skywalker #ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #Obi-Wan Kenobi #hera syndulla #sabine wren #garazeb orrelios #chopper the chaos droid #sunflova #my fic #fanart

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ohmightydevviepuu · 5 years ago

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our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 12

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter twelve [12/12] AO3

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she’s been thinking that maybe it should say “Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck.”

Her partner’s been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

this is it, guys. THE END.

i need to take a moment and thank everyone who’s been here following along with me, especially @carpedzem, @stahlop, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @kmomof4. i would have been lost without @thisonesatellite, @profdanglaisstuff and @katie-dub

to the fam in the @captainswanbigbang discord: truly, without you, none of this would have been happened. i am so honored to have spent time with you while we all embarked on these journeys together: @shireness-says, @spartanguard, @optomisticgirl, @justanotherwannabeclassic, @distant-rose, @eirabach, @winterbythesea, @scientificapricot, @phiralovesloki, @thejollyroger-writer. thank you again to mods B, kait, phira and @shippingtheswann for running such a tight ship. i was thrilled to be part of the crew.

this chapter is dedicated to robbie, a true hero with a happy ending.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest Act IV, Scene 1

Emma exhaled a strangled gasp. She felt like she had been through a wringer--literally flattened and squeezed out until there was nothing left inside of her--and then a pulse of warmth and light had traveled through every part of her, like lightning pulling at her cells. The room around her seemed brighter and there was a quiet in Emma’s mind, peaceful and happy.

read the rest on AO3 (full chapter below the break)

chapter twelve

“What’s going on?” Regina asked. She sounded far away, her voice somewhere on the edge between suspicious and--what else--angry.

“That, Your Majesty,” Gold said, “was True Love’s Kiss.” He was all crocodile as he said it, his voice smooth and smug. When he smiled, it was not a pleasant expression.

“The curse,” Henry said. “Emma broke it.” He was smiling, and Emma grabbed him, squeezing him so tightly that he grunted, and there was a commotion all around them--

“Snow?”

“Charming?”

“EMMA!”

“She found us--”

“Did you ever doubt that she would?”

--and Emma found herself wrapped up in an embrace that squeezed her so tightly that she yelped in pain, being held by her mother and her father, her father’s hand cupped against the back of her head as he cradled her body in a group hug straight out of--well, a storybook.

“She saved everyone,” Henry said.

Mary Margaret’s--Snow White’s--hands cupped Emma’s cheeks. “I knew you would,” she said.

“Me?” Emma said. The peaceful feeling in her mind faded, just a bit. “I didn’t--”

“You did,” Snow insisted. David’s--Charming’s--hand was on her shoulder, rubbing the back of her neck. He couldn’t seem to move himself away from her, or from them.

“True Love’s Kiss only works,” he said, “if there is love and belief on both sides. And, Emma--I love you. We love you so much.”

“I just hope that now we can show you,” Snow said. She faltered for the first time as she said it, as though the weight of the better part of three decades was suddenly heavy on her mind.

“You believed,” Henry said. He was still smiling. “That’s what a hero does, Mom.”

“Henry,” Emma said, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” he said. Emma kissed him, hitting the crown of his head just like her mother had done--and she swore that, just for a second, she could feel that warmth pass through her again. The magic.

“Rumplestiltskin?” Lacey--Belle--dropped her bag and walked to him, nearly hurling herself at him instead of taking the last step, stopping herself and reaching instead for his arm. Her hand found his on top of his walking stick as she said, “I remember.”

Emma tried to extricate herself from her family--her family--waiting for his voice and the way it would say something stupid like “Hey, beautiful.”

Belle repeated herself. “I remember.” She said the syllables slowly, as if she was feeling each one in her brain and in her mouth before she spoke them. “I love you.”

Gold was very nearly in tears as he hugged her small frame. “Yes,” he said. His voice almost broke. “Yes, and I love you too.”

Where was Killian?

“Mom,” Henry said--

“What’s wrong with my brother?” Liam said.

“There will be time for that, Belle,” Gold said, and the way he articulated the words reminded Emma of that first meeting in her office--the way he sounded as though he was tasting them--his voice full of relish. It was creepy, and it meant nothing good. “There will be time for everything.”

The “later” was implied, but Belle heard it all the same, because she backed away, and that’s when Emma realized: Killian was still unconscious, comatose--cursed--on the cell mattress. Unmoving and even paler than he had been.

Emma went back into the cell and winced as her knee hit the floor, wanting to trace her finger along his jawline and settling for rubbing her thumb against his wrist.

Gold clicked his tongue and smiled, clearly unsurprised. “Why,” he drawled, “Hook is still under the effects of the sleeping curse. Naturally.”

Emma’s fingers reflexively curled around the dagger she still held as she reacted to his voice. Naturally. But there was no way, no fucking way this had been part of his grand plan--

Liam went at Gold, a fist already raised, and Emma grabbed his arm just as he tried to strike. She came up behind him and pulled him back. “Liam, no,” she said. “Not that I don’t applaud your initiative or anything, but--”

Liam glanced back at his brother. “He wouldn’t want this, would he?” He seemed to deflate slightly as he said it.

“No, kid,” Emma said. “He wouldn’t.”

Regina laughed. It was, truly, more of a snarl. “How do you feel about your brother now, Mr. Jones?”

And--dammit--Regina had read him correctly, because Liam flushed.

“I love him,” Liam said--insisted. “He has raised me as his brother with love and kindness for almost thirty years. He is my family, and I love him.”

“Perhaps,” Gold said. “But that anger and betrayal you still carry means that you cannot wake him. It must be her.” He lifted the tip of his cane two inches off the ground and used it to indicate Emma.

“Wait,” David--Charming--said. “Wait, is that Captain Hook?” His mouth opened to say more and--

“Charming,” Snow said, “now is not the time.”

Charming gave her a look that was fond but somehow grudging at the same time and Emma’s heart clenched at the affection there.

“I still have the bottle, Miss Swan,” Gold said. “I can offer you a deal.” The cane moved again, this time pointing at the dagger still in her hand.

He was calm, and he was composed.

But Emma could sense something beneath the layers. Liar. He was scrambling, Emma realized. His plan had failed, his grand big plan of several centuries was over, and there was still something he needed--something he wanted her to do, in exchange for the dagger.

Emma was not going to fall into his trap, or be ensnared in any more of his deals.

They would find another way.

They had to.

“No,” Emma said. “No, I’ve had enough of your bullshit, Gold, and don’t think for one minute that just because your magic curse grand plan didn’t work out I am not throwing your ass in jail for murdering Graham. You still killed someone, buddy, and in this world, that has consequences.”

Graham had died for this blade; Killian had crossed realms and time and still balked at using it. No way in hell was she giving it back to the Dark One.

Belle gasped. “You killed Graham?” She looked from Gold to Killian and back again. “This was all part of one of your plans? You knew this--” she gestured at Killian, dropping Gold’s arm “--was going to happen? Because Hook came for me in the asylum. He gave me a home. He was my friend.”

“He also tried to kill you,” Regina said. Gold growled.

“You locked me up and took away thirty years of my life,” Belle said, all five-foot-nothing of her with hackles up as she faced the queen. “He gave it back to me. I think--I think he changed.”

“Only I was given a gift: To wake up, for twenty-eight years, and not dread the day before it began" "...a life, and friends, and lovers, and none of it was real.”

“He did,” Emma said. She caught Belle’s gaze and held it as she said it again. “He did change, Belle. He is your friend.”

Belle’s expression looked suddenly very far away again, but not cursed; it was as if she was concentrating, searching through a mental catalogue of something until she found the answer.

“This is about the magic,” she said. She looked up at Gold. “Isn’t it? That’s what you meant when you said there would be time for everything later.”

Belle reached for Gold’s arm again. “Swear to me on your son’s life that this isn’t about the magic and I will believe you.”

Gold said nothing.

“Rumple,” Belle said, and she was pleading. “Swear to me. I will believe you. I still love you.”

Gold looked away.

Belle looked at Emma. “You said this was about Bae, and you weren’t wrong,” she said. “But in order to find Bae, he must need a tracking spell. And that means magic. That’s what he wants.”

“How would he bring magic to this world?” Snow White asked.

“There’s a lake,” she said. “In our land, we called it Lake Nostos. It has the power to restore--”

“What’s been lost,” David said. Charming. Whatever. “I’ve seen it. I’ve been there.”

“Assuming that everything in our land has a corollary here, there must be a well nearby that connects to the lake.”

“The wishing well,” Henry said. “It’s in the park just on the edge of Storybrooke.”

“That’s what he wants,” Belle said. “The potion must allow the waters of Lake Nostos to have power here. That’s how he planned to do it. Emma--you can’t let him. It’s wrong. And--”

“Hook wouldn’t want this,” Emma said. “I know. I won’t.”

She repeated to herself, almost like a mantra: they would find another way. They had to.

Emma stood beside her parents, her arms crossed over her chest, the dagger still in one hand.

David looked like he suddenly remembered something as he reached for his belt--the cuff clip he wore there. He handed the cuffs and the keys to Liam and said, “Cuff him.”

“Try it, dearie,” he said. “I’ve been imprisoned before.”

“There’s no magic here, Dark One,” David said. “And there won’t be. I think we’ll be able to hold you this time.”

“No deals,” Snow said firmly.

“Emma can do this,” Henry said.

“I--” Emma said.

“Emma,” Snow said. “We believe in you. So did Hook. That curse only works if you take it willingly. He wanted to save you, and to save Henry. He believed in you.” Her eyes were only on Emma, and on Killian. Her eyes with nothing but warmth and compassion and understanding and Emma had no idea what she was meant to do, or how she was meant to do it. “You know what you need to do, Emma.”

She didn’t. She fingered the ring around her neck and felt hopeless.

“I’m not okay with this,” her father grumbled, then grunted when her mother elbowed him.

“Mom,” Henry said in a loud stage whisper. “You have to kiss him. That’s how the curse works.”

Snow smothered a laugh.

“But--” Emma said. “He has--had--I’m not--”

My Milah. My dead lover. She knew I was motivated. Any port in a storm.

Emma stood motionless.

“Oh, dear,” Gold giggled. “Has the good captain infected you with his ghosts?”

Emma stiffened.

“Milah wouldn’t have wanted this. I would have done anything for her, but she wouldn’t have wanted this.” Think therefore on revenge, and cease to weep.

“He always did favor brunettes,” Gold said. He was taunting her, he wanted to make her doubt, and it should have worked--hell, five minutes ago, it would have worked; five days ago, it felt like, she hadn’t even met him yet, or Killian, and yet--

Emma closed her eyes and could feel it, the way his breath warmed her skin when they were close together, when he had been so close to her; she could feel it, the way it had been in his office, in Jefferson’s house--that moment between ‘what was’ and ‘what’s next’--and she wondered.

He had loved Milah. But--”It’s you. Don’t you know, Emma? It’s all for you”--and in her dream, it had been an inferno, the magic pushing everywhere in her body, the silver strands of light burning through her.

They’d known each other for five days.

But those moments still felt worth fighting for. She couldn’t lose him before she’d even had the chance to know him, or to know what it was that tied them together.

She already wasn’t the same person she had been before they’d met.

You should know better than anyone that Lost Ones recognize their own.

And she wondered.

“There’s hope, Swan. All you have to do is believe.”

What would it be like, to finally give in, to feel something instead of nothing?

“Just look at me, and believe.”

His lips were cold. Smooth, and cold, and Emma held her breath, waiting--

Waiting--

Come back to me, Killian.

And then she felt it, felt the moment he woke up even before he gasped.

(an inferno, burning everything in its wake as the energy rushed through her. It was raw and unfettered as it pushed every molecule in her body, electrifying her senses until she couldn’t feel anything but him)

“Swan,” he said, his fingers brushing against his mouth and his eyes wide open and so very fucking blue, “what did you do?”

Snow squeaked. Liam and Henry rushed for the cell door and Charming held them back.

But Emma wouldn’t know any of that until later.

She smiled. A real smile, the kind that lit up her face and her eyes and showed all of her teeth. “I’ve been wondering if I would like it,” she said.

His eyebrows went up, and he smiled back at her--a real smile, that softened his entire face. “So what’s the decision?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said, closing the infinitesimal distance between them, and there was the metal of his rings, cool as his finger traced the line of her cheekbone, and when his mouth opened and a sound escaped Emma wasn’t sure if it was him or her. She felt like she was being devoured, if the gentlest touch she’d ever felt in her life could eat her whole and make her crave it. It was everything--his fingers, the metal, his lips and tongue and the way he opened for her--

And it felt like magic.

Killian was breathing heavily, brushing his fingers against his mouth again, and she said: “It’s even better when you help.”

There were a thousand emotions flickering through his eyes, and Emma saw all of them: sorrow, remorse, understanding, desire, longing.

Love.

He was an open book.

Emma blinked. There was no way for her to look at him, to see him when he was like that, and pretend that she didn’t feel--all of it. Anything. Everything.

He smiled--a shy smile--and Emma realized that he saw all of those things in her, too. She leaned forward, feeling his forehead against hers when he met her halfway, his eyelashes fluttering across her cheek.

“What I wouldn’t give,” Regina said, “for another sleeping curse.” She sat on the cell mattress as if it was a throne. Her face was a mask of icy indifference.

Snow White stood in front of her, regarding her through the cell bars.

Emma tried to stand, but--

“Worry not, Swan,” Killian whispered, and she stayed with him, enjoying the weight of his hand on her arm.

“I agree with the pirate,” Charming said.

“Ah,” Gold sneered. “Twoo Wuv.”

“The curse is broken,” Charming said, ignoring him. “Neither of them can hurt us any more.”

There was a knock on the station door, a heavy object of some kind being battered against it.

“Open up,” Leroy’s voice called.

Snow walked to the door, slowly and with deliberation. “The curse is broken,” she agreed. She reached for the doorknob. “And now--we have a lot to figure out.”

“Together,” Killian muttered into her ear, and Emma nodded.

“Together,” she said, feeling the magic inside of her settle at the word; the inferno banked down to something warm and comforting and tied up between both of them, inextricable. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had long, blonde hair that curled just so at the edges of her face with skin as fair as snow. Her eyes glinted green, like emeralds in the sunlight, and the fall of her lashes was thick and dark.

Her name was Emma Swan.

Sheriff Emma Swan stood up, remembering at the last minute to turn off her oversized CRT monitor before she hit the light switch. On her desk there was a picture of her son; it was hand-drawn, in pen and ink. There was a pair of boots on the shelf behind her. One of them was missing a shoelace.

“I’m heading out, Red,” she called.

“Mmmm?” Ruby murmured, not looking up from her makeup mirror as she fluffed her waist-length, red-streaked black curls until she was satisfied with their volume. “You coming by later? I think Ursula’s got something new she wanted to try with the music tonight.”

“Tempting,” Emma said, “but no.”

“Belle’s gonna be there,” Ruby said, her dark eyes glittering. “And Will.”

“Poor Victor,” Emma sighed.

“Who said he wasn’t invited?” Ruby asked. She smacked her lips and blew a kiss.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “That’s my cue. Besides, I gotta go home first.”

Emma was very, very good at her job, even though there was one mystery she couldn’t solve: how to mend a broken heart. She had once believed in love--in True Love--but now she wasn’t sure if it even existed. She had been given up by her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, minutes after she was born, sent through a magical wardrobe so that she would have her best chance--so that some day, she would find them again. She would break a curse, and bring back the happy endings.

But Emma Swan didn’t know any of that. All she knew was that she grew up alone, moving from city to city with no one on her side, and no one who knew her.

The logistics were the easy part.

Well--the logistics were the part that was less hard, because magic, it turned out, was a very funny thing. It had no rules but its own, and the more questions Emma had, the more she had to shake her head and move on.

You really could handwave away anything in Storybrooke by the simple expedient of magic being involved.

Cursed neighborhood in a thriving city? Magic.

Mary Margaret Blanhard as the only living heir of Regina Mills? Magic.

“Not really,” Mary Maragaret--Snow White--had said. “She is, after all, my stepmother.”

More surprising was the fact that Henry Mills turned up as the legal heir to Robert Gold.

“How,” Emma wanted to know, “did the curse know that Henry was his grandson?’

And the Blue Fairy just leveled a glare at Emma, a superior air about her--a Mother Superior air--and said, as if it should have been obvious, “Magic.” She still wore her religious habit, the one Emma had noticed at Graham’s funeral, and it clung to her curves in a way that suggested “magic” had a sick sense of humor.

She didn’t know it, sent away from her family to live in a land without magic, but Princess Emma was going to grow up to be the savior.

There was no justice system in the city equipped to handle the murder committed by Robert Gold or the Dark Curse committed by Regina Mills. Storybrooke was its own jurisdiction; a mysteriously unincorporated neighborhood with no relevant law enforcement agency except a small, understaffed sheriff’s department. Then again, the former residents of the Enchanted Forest--two words Emma still struggled to say with a straight face--

“If it helps,” Killian had said with a wry grin, “we always called it ‘Misthaven’ on our navigational charts.”

Of Misthaven, then, were perfectly prepared to administer mob justice against the two people most responsible for their current predicament. Turns out, a ride with a Dark Curse was a one-way trip.

“When someone casts the curse, it’s a sacrifice of one world for another,” Blue said. “That’s simply how the magic works.”

Of course.

Nurse Ratched was perfectly happy to keep them in her asylum for a continuation of her current pay--plus dental. Emma agreed immediately. Anything to make the goddamn dwarves subside and leave her the hell alone.

Snow White looked on serenely. Prince Charming regarded her with pride.

Emma Swan was no stranger to tragedy, but she eventually made her way to Storybrooke, and found herself a home there. She had a home, and friends, and a job that she loved, until, on her twenty-eighth birthday, the curse struck her. It was a day like any other: she got up, went to her office, took on a new case.

But then her best friend--her partner--was murdered.

It wasn’t like the salty, half-assed dinners she’d had in so many foster homes--instant soup, just add water.

“Instant family--just add magic!”

It wasn’t easy. (That’s not how the magic worked.)

But heroes, Emma had learned, didn’t do what was easy. They did what was right.

Emma knew that she had no choice but to pursue justice for her friend, and to punish the person who had committed the crime. But when Emma tracked down a possible lead to a bar on the outskirts of town, she didn’t find a suspect. She found an ally.

And she found out how deep the rabbit hole really went.

“Wait,” Emma said to her mother one night at dinner. “Let me get this straight: you’re the head of the Mills Organization.”

Family dinner.

“You’re a teacher,” Emma said. “And you’re just going to--”

“She was raised to be a queen,” David--Prince Charming--reminded her with a smile, and Emma scowled. She had really, really wanted to hit him in that moment.

It must have shown on her face, because her father laughed. “God,” he said, “you’re so much like her.” He said it with wonder and pride and a lot of other emotions Emma was still learning how to deal with.

The emotions were the hard part.

Well--the emotions were the part that was less easy, because Emma.

Family dinners and Killian sitting next to her, squeezing her knee under the table to let her know that he was there.

“So,” Emma said, “how rich are we, then? Like, King Midas rich?”

Snow looked at Charming.

Charming looked at Snow.

Something passed between them.

“It’s kind of a funny story,” David said.

The night that Emma Swan met Killian Jones, she didn’t know his real name, or who he was, or where he was from.

She didn’t know how much she didn’t know, or how all of it would change her life. All she knew was that her partner was killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him.

All she knew was that something inside of her recognized him, like she had known him in another time and place; as if she had known him from her dreams. From her future.

Nights were the hardest, the part where the logistics and the emotions all bound up in each other; the part where she wanted, needed, desired Killian, to have him with her and to be with him. It was overwhelming, but the only part of it that terrified Emma was the part where it didn’t terrify her at all.

That first night--that first time--it was hot and raw and unchecked, all of those feelings, all of those emotions, that Emma had been denying herself coming up to the surface. She could feel it in her breathing, in her heartbeat, in the way that he laid hands on her and in the way the magic flowed through her, and it shouldn’t have been possible.

That’s not how the magic was supposed to work.

He was reverent and it left her trembling. It was too soon, too fast, too much.

But she slept, sated and spent in the arms of her True Love, and she dreamed.

She walked along the rocky shoreline, tilting her head toward the sky and feeling the sunlight on her face, and she looked for him. The sky was a perfect shade of blue and the air was crisp and clean and it was a perfect quiet moment; there was no sign of him.

Emma closed her eyes and took a breath, counting three before exhaling, and she was in Granny’s. It was empty: a glittering jukebox lit up in the corner, the wall clock set at 8:16.

Another breath and another three count and Emma opened her eyes, feeling something inside of her. A point of warmth that was getting warmer and the asylum laid out in front of her. The blind janitor watched her as he mopped the floor.

“That’s not how the magic works.” Regina’s voice, disembodied and hollow, drifted down the corridor. “Magic here is...unpredictable.”

“You know this isn’t right, Swan.” The whisper felt like it came out of the warmth, the warm spot that was still getting warmer. “Trust your gut. It will tell you what to do.”

The sheriff’s office looked like a dungeon, the bars made of fire, and Emma exhaled; Killian sat in the corner. She called his name.

“Swan,” he said, gasping, his fingers going straight to his mouth, “what did you do?” He didn’t look at her. “Why did you do it? Why did you not take the deal for the potion?”

The fire began to spread. He didn’t see her--he couldn’t see her.

“Killian,” Emma said, “come back to me, Killian--”

Emma turned, concentrating on the warmth inside of her, and pulled.

She held him against her, their backs toward the water as a wave crashed and bubbled up along the rocky shoreline.

He blinked. “Emma,” he said. His hand came up toward her face, and she leaned toward him. Their foreheads touched and his fingers were in her hair and he said her name again. “Emma,” he breathed. “What did you do?”

“I kissed you, Killian,” Emma said. “I kissed you, because you’re my happy ending.”

Emma closed her eyes. One, two, three--

And woke, Killian sweating and shivering in her arms.

Killian Jones was a complicated man. He had wandered, and traveled, and suffered many hardships. He had been a slave, and a naval lieutenant. He had been a brother and a pirate and, some would say, a villain. He had given himself to vengeance and turned himself toward the darkness after his first love was murdered. He had willingly subjected himself to the Evil Queen’s plan, to the Dark Curse, in the hope that he might finally see his vengeance delivered.

For the first time in her life, Emma asked her mother for advice.

She’d always wondered what it would be like, to ask her mom about clothes or makeup or boys or--life. It never occurred to her that she’d need to ask about a sleeping curse.

“What was it like for you,” Emma said, “after dad woke you? From the--from the thing?”

“Oh, Emma,” Snow said. There was so much understanding, so much sympathy, so much empathy in the single word. It shocked Emma how much her mother immediately understood, and how much of a comfort that was. “Is he having the nightmares?”

Killian Jones--Captain Hook--had spent many years in Neverland, the home of the Lost Ones, and still had not realized that he, himself, had been Lost. Until he met Emma Swan, and found himself again.

They found themselves in each other.

It wasn’t easy.

She had a kid who believed everything was going to be okay. He had a brother with a lot of justifiable anger issues.

Emma had literally never in her life lived under the same roof as her parents.

“You never even got to spend a single night in the nursery,” her father said, and Emma remembered the page in the storybook, of Prince Charming fighting off a horde of Black Knights and nearly dying in the process, all while protecting the daughter in his arms.

“There were unicorns on the mobile over your crib,” her mother said, and Emma could picture it, the colors and the crib and the toys, the hopes and the dreams manifest in a single room.

Emma had never gotten to spend the night with her kid, either.

The loft, Mary Margaret’s loft, was barely big enough for two. It had not been designed for six.

Fuck logistics.

But the nights were the hardest.

Because when Emma and Killian were apart, that’s when he was afraid to close his eyes.

That’s when the nightmares were the worst.

The night they met, Killian told Emma about the Dark Curse, and her parents, and about a creature known as the Dark One, who had killed both his first love and Emma’s partner. The Dark One had lived for centuries, immortal, his powers seemingly limitless. But here, in Emma’s home, in Storybrooke and the Land Without Magic, the Dark One had no power. He only had plans. It was his curse that had brought Storybrooke into existence, and forced Emma from her parents.

It was his curse that, unbeknownst to him, would bring the savior and the pirate together.

It wasn’t the same, every night--every time.

But Killian had so many regrets; when he slept, it was as if his body became, again, that prison--until she found him.

She always found him. She found him, and pulled with her magic, and they would stare at the ocean.

Peaceful, quiet moments. Together.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he always said.

“Killian,” she always said. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’re a survivor.”

“The only one who’s ever saved me is you, Swan,” he said.

It’s you, Emma. It’s all for you.

“Any port in a storm,” she said.

“That’s just it, love,” he said. “I’m not in the storm, not any more. Not since I met you.”

And when they were together, she could feel it, the way that her magic would settle around them.

No one knew why--that wasn’t how the magic was supposed to work.

Twoo Wuv, Emma thought, and held him tighter.

The nights were the hardest, with the emotions. And the logistics. And the fact that there was no goddamn space in the loft--no doors, even. Four adults--two couples--and two adolescent boys, or near enough, and Emma learned very quickly that when her mother sent her on a grocery run in the middle of the afternoon to take her time and knock very loudly before she used her key.

Not that Emma didn’t find her own ways--The Rabbit Hole had doors that locked and a bedroom and an office with a large desk and that one time up against the hallway wall, in between the kitchen and the restrooms--Killian did, after all, still work most nights. But they always came home, after. They always spent the nights together, all under one roof. It was a family rule.

And then one night, as Emma kicked off her boots, as Killian helped her off with her coat, the door barely shut behind them, there was Snow White sitting at the table with cocoa and cinnamon and Scotch and rum. “We should talk,” Snow said.

“Pleasant conversation then, innit?” Killian muttered in her ear.

Henry was already using his cinnamon stick in lieu of a spoon but Liam looked suspicious. He was quiet and reserved and holding himself back, like he was afraid everything would shatter around him. He had seen everything he thought he’d known change twice in the space of mere days, but Emma was determined to do what she could to erase the haunted lost look from his eyes in the way that it never had been in hers, or in his brother’s.

“Everything okay, Mom?” Emma said, sitting down.

“Your father and I--” Snow paused and smiled. For an instant, her parents were the only two people in the universe.

Ruby had only fifteen minutes ago been throwing French fries at her in an attempt to divert Emma’s attention from Killian--but, gross. Emma didn’t need to see her parents like that.

“We think it’s time to make a few changes,” her father said.

Emma stiffened. It was an instinct, and the habits of a lifetime were not going to be broken by a few weeks of relative peace, but--her breathing hitched and her heart rate sped up and then she felt Killian’s hand on her knee, squeezing gently.

“Like what?” Henry asked, slurping his whipped cream. Henry had nothing but glee at his suddenly expanded family. It would shock her ten-year-old son to know that in that respect, Emma wanted nothing more than to be like him, her amazing, empathetic, achingly open kid who wanted all of them to have their happy endings.

One roof, three floors; the Mills Organization, and therefore Mary Margaret Blanchard, owned the building and all three apartments tucked into it.

“Okay,” Emma said. “But seriously, how rich are we? You sure it’s not, like, Midas rich?”

Her father laughed. “I’ll leave that to Kathryn,” he said.

“Kathryn really did go to Boston, though,” Emma said. “So that’s relevant how, exactly?”

“She was Princess Abigail in our world,” David said. “Abigail, daughter of Midas.”

Killian’s eyes lit up and his eyebrow went up and the corner of his mouth went up and Emma knew it was going to be trouble before he uttered a single word. “And why,” he said, “would you want to give up an opportunity like that?”

Snow let out an indignant sputter as she choked on her cocoa, but Charming laughed again.

“You of all people know why,” he said.

Killian’s arm snaked around Emma’s waist and he pulled them closer together. “Aye,” he said. “That I do.”

It wasn’t easy. It was too soon, too fast, too much.

But they found a way; that’s what this family did.

Killian wasn’t someone who trusted easily. Emma wasn’t someone who trusted at all. But they quickly realized that together was the best way to get through, to get justice for Emma’s friend and partner--and to break the curse. When Emma’s life was threatened by the evil Queen of Hearts, it was Killian who was able to defend her. And when Killian put himself in the way of a sleeping curse to protect Emma’s family, Emma was able to awaken him.

It was True Love’s Kiss, and it sent a pulse of magic through Storybrooke. Emma realized that her feelings gave her strength. She broke the Dark Curse. She found her family. She brought back the happy endings.

Including for Killian Jones.

Once upon a time, after a long day at her new job with her best friend, Emma Swan came home to the apartment she shared with her family. She pulled off her boots, stepping over them into the apartment, and hung her red leather jacket on the hook by the door.

Killian Jones--Captain freaking Hook--was sprawled out on the couch, his hand over his eyes. In his lap was a black-and-white speckled composition notebook; there was no sign of the work crew that had left a small pile of equipment in what was slowly becoming her--their--kitchen.

In the apartment she shared with her family--the second-floor apartment. The one that was currently being fixed up with extra bedrooms and talk of breaking through the floor to the flat below, to make a duplex.

“‘Ello, love,” Killian called softly, and Emma smiled.

She did that a lot more often now--the real kind, that made her eyes light up and showed all of her teeth--and her smile didn’t fade as she stepped into the living room and took the notebook out of his lap.

“He told you the story again,” Emma said, gesturing at the sleeping form curled up in the oversized chair and the goddamn domesticity of it--

“Aye,” Killian nodded, scrubbing his hand down his face as he sat up, and she still wasn’t used to it, what happened with his face when he got all soft like that talking about her kid. “Your boy spent the entire day working on it with Belle, and he was quite insistent. Seems to think hearing it will--”

“He worries,” Emma said. The lack of walls when sleeping upstairs left no room for secrets, and Henry did worry. He’d come up with the idea, to write down their story like a fairy tale, about Emma and Killian and Liam and their family and it made Emma’s heart hurt, sometimes, when she thought about all that Henry had brought into her life. “He just wants to help.” She paused, then: “Does it? Help?”

Emma Swan hadn’t been looking for someone who would give his heart to the world, or some True Love riding to her rescue. The only one who saved her was her. But she had always hoped that somewhere in the universe, there might be someone who would keep her warm when she was cold, feed her when she was hungry, and maybe--on occasion--take her dancing.

No one was more surprised than Emma when she found her True Love in the Storybrooke Sheriff’s station, when she kissed Killian Jones and saved him from eternal sleep.

No one was more surprised when she found her family that night.

“Hearing a story where I’m not the villain? Yeah,” he said. “It helps.”

“You’re more than that,” Emma protested. “You’ve got a mark in the hero column, at least.”

“I’m not so sure about that, love,” he said. “I don’t believe I ever--to use your phrase--rode to the rescue, or gave my heart to the world.” Killian’s words were teasing, but his eyes were serious.

“You gave your heart,” Emma said. “You gave it to me.”

“I did,” he said. “But you have given me use for it: a double heart for my single one.”

Emma grinned. She could always tell when he was quoting something.

“Shakespeare?” she asked.

“Aye.” He smirked. "I'm getting a mite predictable, then?"

"Maybe you should try something new, darling," Emma said, her voice a terrible imitation of his accent, and he laughed and stood up and pulled the notebook from her hands, placing it with some care on the couch cushion.

Killian's voice was low and sleepy as he began to speak.

"'i fear / no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want / no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) / and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant / and whatever a sun will always sing is you'," he said. He pulled her until she was flush against him. His finger traced the chain around her neck.

'"and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart,'" he said. 'i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)'." He kissed her, starting at her forehead, trailing down to her mouth, and whispered against her lips.

“Dance with me, Swan,” he said.

And they all lived happily ever after. The End.

The Tempest Act IV, Scene 1

-30-

#cs fic #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #our little life (rounded with a sleep)#canon divergence #s1 divergence #cursed!Killian #an alternate theory of the curse

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willow-salix · 5 years ago

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Weird thing that came out in response to the prompt of ‘Touch’

I don’t know where this came from other than my thoughts still being with my pondering post yesterday, that and the thought that people are too quick to judge, too quick to put their own thoughts and feelings onto another person, too quick to jump to their own conclusions rather than simply ask. Thanks to the awesome @gumnut-logic for the prompt and the callenge.

Touch is such a simple word, as can be the gestures themselves. It’s something that most people don’t even think about, it’s something that is so often freely given and received, almost automatically added into gestures of affection and friendship that are now a part of everyday life. No one questions it, no one pays any attention when they see people hugging or kissing, it’s just how it is, even if that touch is so often uninvited, unrequested and sometimes unwanted.

If someone tries to hug you and you flinch, you’re the bad guy, you’re the one in the wrong because you don’t automatically allow someone to invade your personal space. Then you are thought of as cold, unfeeling, unemotional and unsociable. Does anyone bother asking you what you want or if you are OK with it? Not in his experience.

If you don't freely accept every touch that people choose to bestow upon you, because they deem it necessary even if you don’t, it’s you that is seen as being in the wrong. Never them. Touch can be positive, but it can so easily be negative.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like to be touched, he just had to feel comfortable enough with the people around him that were doing the touching. He hadn’t always been that way, in high school he was quiet but comfortable with his small circle of friends and his family, more than happy to receive pats on the back, a brotherly shoulder bump, a hug or to have someone snuggle up to him during family time.

He was sandwiched in the middle of four brothers, two older, two younger, all with very loud, boisterous personalities, his older brothers always there with a comforting hug or a consolatory arm slung around his shoulder on a bad day, or his younger brothers who’d happily throw themselves on him with little to no warning.

He’d grown up surrounded by people that were free with their affection and never thought twice about touching, and neither had he.

Losing their mother had changed everything for all of them, the youngest two got the most attention, something he'd never begrudged, they had needed it. Their father had withdrawn into himself, leaving Virgil and Scott to pick up the slack with the house and Alan, leaving him to pretty much fend for himself. He'd been extremely close to their mother and without her there to mediate, knowing when he’d had too much and needed some space or when he needed to be drawn back into the family circle, he'd been left to his own devices and that had meant that he'd locked himself away to grieve in peace.

Eventually, as a family they had grown stronger and they had attempted to integrate him back into the family unit but it had been too little too late. He'd withdrawn further and it had been noticed at school where he had grown used to either the pitying looks or the nasty sneered comments that were thrown his way. He was a loser, he was a loner, he was weird. His shy nature and now natural inclination to pull away from any physical contact was a beacon to those with a cruel streak as he'd found out to his cost.

University was supposed to be a game changer, the place where he could find himself and grow comfortable in his own skin but it had had the opposite effect. Long hours spent in solitary study, staying awake into the early hours of the morning to watch his stars, snatching a few hours sleep before attending lectures all day had played havoc with his social skills, poor as they had been before, and had given him an excuse to retire further into himself than he had before.

He’d gotten used to being alone, not having to worry about saying the wrong thing or having to act a certain way. He’d grown used to having his own space, to not having that social interaction, not having people constantly in his face and demanding attention. It was peaceful, quiet and freeing in a way he couldn’t put his finger on but above all it was a relief to be able to think without constant demands on his time.

But with that had come the absence of people who actively sought him out, who would check in with him even if he felt like he didn’t need them to. He made no effort to join any of the fraternities or clubs that the university had boasted, feeling he didn’t have time for them, and so his friendship circles had grown even smaller. Strangers weren’t as inclined to randomly grab him or touch him as his family had been and so it hadn’t been unheard of for him to go days, sometimes weeks without having any form of physical contact with anyone for the first year of his studies.

His second and third years had been a little different, he’d promised Virgil that he’d try to broaden his horizons and spend more time with people that shared his interests and had actively put himself out there a little more. Going to parties, all of which he had hated and made excuses to slip out early, forming friendships, dating, some casual relationships when they had the time, but at heart he'd still been more comfortable alone.

After leaving university and devoting his life to International Rescue full time it hadn't been unheard of for him to spend more than a month alone in his craft with nothing but the odd call from home. He'd been so busy that he hadn't even realised that he'd barely spent any time with other humans in over a year.

Coming down to the Island for the first time in more than two months had been a challenge in itself. After the peaceful quiet of space, entering the lounge had been like walking into a wall of sound. A bubbling cauldron of light, noise, energetic siblings and fussing Grandma and it had been overwhelming to his senses. Alan had rushed at him, almost bowling him over in his exuberance and it had caught him off guard. He'd flinched at the sudden impact of a hard, round head connecting with his sternum and Alan had noticed, they had all noticed.

Alan had apologised and John had assured him that it was fine, he just needed a little warning next time, but next time had never come. He didn't know why, but after that no one had touched him unless he reached out first and he had to admit that he didn't do it often enough. He just didn't think about it, he wasn't used to including others in his daily life. He never reached out because usually he had no one to reach out to.

Sometimes they would forget this unspoken rule that they had implemented without his knowledge and would sling an arm around his shoulders or nudge him with an elbow but they always caught themselves, jerking away as if contact with him burnt and backed off without his say so. It made things awkward for him, like they didn't know how to act around him and in turn it made it so he didn't know how to be with them.

Everyone tiptoed around him, like he was a stray dog that had to be left alone in case they scared him off. Like if they came near him he'd run away.

His social anxiety would nag at him, telling him that he was making them uncomfortable, that he was in the way, even though he knew in his heart that it wasn't true. They loved him, he loved them, but it had become easier to stay away, for all of them to make excuses for his absence.

That was until she came into his life. She was his complete opposite, where he would wait to be invited into someone's personal space, she shoved her way in and set up camp. Where he was tentative and shy she was bold and confident.

She hadn’t seen him as someone to be pitied or coddled, she hadn’t seen him as someone who wanted to be left alone, she had just seen him as someone she wanted to be close to, so she would be no matter how long that took.

Initially he'd been on edge, his very rusty social skills, his extended periods of alone time, combined with his family's reluctance to get too close to him had left him with what amounted to a mental barrier between himself and reaching out to people. What if they rejected him like they thought he did with them? What if she was just being friendly and didn’t actually want him that way at all? The thoughts running through his head had been loud and obnoxious, drowning out all rational thought, urging him to stay away and forget about her. And he’d listened to it, done as it bid. Until she had stepped in.

She'd been different, she'd respected his boundaries, been aware of his reactions but instead of backing away and waiting for him to ask, she'd offered herself first.

That had been the difference, she'd offered affection, she'd given him permission to reach out without words and had done it all without making it into a big deal. Because she'd never known him any other way. And that in itself had been refreshing.

He'd had to shift his perspective, had to learn to relax, to open up and accept someone into his heart. After years of being left alone here was someone that very much wanted him close and wanted to be close in return.

There had been a steep learning curve to letting someone as chaotic as her into his carefully controlled life but if anything her ability to never take things personally and to not give a single fuck had been a blessing. He'd quickly learnt that he could say absolutely anything and she would never think the worst of him, she had endless patience and for all her high maintenance ways, a calming energy he was drawn to.

She’d treated him like he was normal, not like he was made of glass that would break any second and he'd responded to it without thinking. She’d touched him unconsciously, a brush of her hand, an arm draped over his as she cuddled against his side watching a movie, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder and he'd done the same. He'd look down and find that his fingers were caressing the soft skin of her wrist, his fingers playing with hers, his hand landing on her knee as naturally as if he'd been doing it forever. And his brothers had watched, watched and smiled.

The shift had been subtle, so subtle he hadn't been sure at first, but she'd somehow managed to bridge the gap between him and his family that he hadn't even realised had widened that much.

When she sat next to him the others took it as permission to do the same. When she slid her arm around his waist it gave the others a chance to see that he was fine with it, meaning they followed her lead and draped a casual arm around his shoulders without worrying he'd flinch away.

His brothers had been shocked the first time they had seen her throw herself into his arms after a tough night but that had opened the door for Alan to do the same and John had hugged his baby brother tightly for the first time in years. He was taller, stronger and slightly smellier than he had been the last time it had happened, but he was still the same boy he'd introduced to the wonders of the night sky and rocked as he cried. It had been so incredibly welcome.

It's strange what you could grow accustomed to given enough time but he hadn't realised how much he had missed that simple closeness until he had it again. How much he’d missed a casual hand on his arm in the place of words, inquiring as to his well being, how much he’d missed the warm weight of a brother squashed beside him on the couch and was grateful to have it again.

His brothers had seemed more relaxed too, like they weren't worrying about him as much and that in turn allowed him to relax with them. They were still respectful of his personal space, giving him time to acclimatise to being home before they started mauling him, but that was fine by him. No one was on edge, no one was worrying that they would do the wrong thing, they had found a happy medium that had been lacking. It was nice and above all it was normal.

She was free with her affections and treated his brothers the same way, hugging them, cuddling them, comforting them, loving them and they in turn loved her back. She'd unknowingly become the glue that had cemented him back into the family that he'd broken away from, fitting him back in as if he'd never been gone.

They say that you shouldn't have to change yourself for love, but sometimes it happens for the better. A good relationship should allow you to grow in ways that benefit you not your partner. He’d never given it much thought before, other than believing it to be a load of sentimental, romantic rubbish, but he was happy to find that it was true.

The first time he'd reached out to touch for comfort had shocked him, for so long he'd not needed anyone, but it had been a long, hard day and she was there, all soft, warm and welcoming. Her hair had smelt like home, her head had fitted perfectly into the curve of his shoulder and she'd melted effortlessly in his arms.

He'd held her, solid and dependable and the world had made sense again. He'd understood what he'd been missing, understood how touch didn't have to be something you endured but something to be enjoyed.

Touch is a simple word, a simple gesture but it can convey so much.

#John Tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #sensory sunday #touch

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valentinecult · 4 years ago

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Theory on Nagoriyuki’s Theme and Backstory.

So, in my previous posts, somebody managed to put out the lyrics of What Do You Fight For-Nagoriyuki’s Theme.

Reminder, I may or may not be right with my theory. This is just speculation and my interpretation.

LYRICS:

Everything in this world leads to soul enlightenment There is nothing wasted about our lives The snow falling in spring Moon hangs during the day One with self and time So what? Let's get to the bottom line If so, what do you fight for? You're denying your thirst Now it’s time to feast Break it out! Keep grinding dive in deep like cold steel I won't face my doom, SAYONARA! Well done! How dare you!!! Never too late to bend the knee When Hell freezes over! SAYONARA The world is starting to reject you If so, what do you fight for You must know your place Now it’s time to feast Break it out! Keep grinding dive in deep like cold steel I won't face my doom, SAYONARA Well done! How dare you!!! Never too late to bend the knee When Hell freezes over! SAYONARA I know the time of darkness will come some day but I will fight it till the day I die Break it out! Break it out! Dive in the deep! Like cold steel I will not face my doom, SAYONARA

~~~~

It is becoming one of my favorite songs to be honest. The music and its tone obviously is heavy metal, but there is a sense of calmness and self-control. Although, the lyrics are pretty hammy and full of burning passion.

It can be safe to believe that Nagoriyuki is a calm and collected person. There is a possibility that he is disciplined and passionate about his fighting skills. According to his biography, the man values Bushido (Samurai Code). Bushido Code of the samurai has principles that emphasizes courage, honor, and loyalty to their master, the daimyo.

The principles clearly almost coincide to the lyrics to a certain extent. The most important part of the lyrics that stood out is that the beginning of the song quotes that everything in this world leads to soul enlightenment.

https://ashlandtidings.com/archive/inner-peace-characteristics-of-an-enlightened-soul

Soul Enlightenment’s definition varies, but what is it like when a person is spiritually enlightened? The qualities of that is that the enlightened person is a being of pure love and light, kind and compassionate. However, those qualities aren’t enough to truly define you as ‘enlightened’.

You must purify your soul, heart, mind, and body. The back of Nagoriyuki’s kimono and the kanji written on his mask was written as ‘Heart’ and ‘Mind’, if I am correct. That matches the attributes of what one needs for spiritual enlightenment.

Even so, the lyrics quoted: ‘You’re denying your thirst. Now it’s time to feast!’

This could refer to Nagoriyuki’s internal struggles on resisting his vampiric urges. As stated before, it’s speculated that his hannya youkai mask is special limiter that helps suppress his impulses. So Nagoriyuki might be struggling to control his vampire side and he could be using the culture and traditions of Bushido to obtain spiritual enlightenment to maintain self-control. Not only is he trying to maintain himself, but he is obviously very determined to keep fighting. Keep fighting until it is his time to die. He might have a mindset of a warrior, someone who isn’t afraid of death, even though he is an ‘immortal’, a vampire.

Onto his backstory, there is no information on Nagoroyuki’s past. He is simply called a mysterious swordsman that wields a sword that absorbs blood, but Daisuke claimed that he plays an important role to the history of Guilty Gear.

If this is true, it is safe to assume that he’s seen a lot of pretty crazy events that transpired throughout the lore’s timeline. He certainly gives off the impression of an experienced warrior and a man with a story to tell.

I believe his situation is no different from Sol Badguy. Sol was a human but due to some...bad circumstances, he became a Gear and as a prototype, he is insanely strong. Too strong for his own good to the point where he needed to create a limiter to suppress the Gear cells and his Gear instincts. There has always been this internal conflict Sol has with his Gear side.

Nagoriyuki is probably a similar case. Long story short, he might’ve been human once in his lifetime, but something must’ve happened (probably the cursed nature of his sword) to where he became a vampire. As a vampire, you would obviously begin to act out on your bloodlust and impulse to drink blood. Upon discovering the traditions of the Bushido Code of the Samurai, he studied it and tried to obtain inner peace with himself and his vampiric side.

While he does come off as a loner, I have doubts that Nagoriyuki built that mechanical mask by himself. He likely had help someone within the P.W.A.B. or something. Who that person is, it’s unknown and I’m not going to speculate it for we still don’t know all the details of the Strive story.

However, unlike Sol, Nagoriyuki doesn’t seem like he’ll hesitant to remove his limiter and access his full power.

“I know the time of darkness will come some day but I will fight it till the day I die Break it out! Break it out! Dive in the deep! Like cold steel I will not face my doom, SAYONARA “

This part could mean that Nagoriyuki is well-aware that his impulses could overtake him at any moment if he is pushed to the extreme. However, the lyrics may imply that he isn’t backing down and will keep fighting those impulses until the day he dies. If anything, in the process of learning the Bushido Code, the man likely has an immense indomitable will that helps him maintain his humanity and self-awareness. He’s not afraid to face his demons and is determined to fight them.

I really believe that Nagoriyuki’s theme is all related to his ideals and personal struggles as a person. In principle, he may have this belief that everyone has reason for fighting. If you are fighting, you should a goal in mind. But in the process of striving and fighting for your goal, you must achieve spiritual enlightenment to reflect on yourself and fight your inner demons. This can sort of tie-in toward the theme of the game. The title is Strive and in lore, the characters are fighting for something, but before they do reach their goal, they must reflect on themselves as individuals. Basically, it’s discovering and awakening their utmost potential.

That concludes my theory on what I believe could be is Nagoriyuki’s personality and backstory. Like I said before and I’ll say it once again, this must be taken with a grain of salt and be viewed as a mere interpretation of mine, not a fact. The story mode may debunk my theory or not. This is all for the sake of fun and being hyped for the upcoming installation.

I have to say, his theme song is freakin’ awesome to listen to. I think I’ll make it my third favorite next to Colors and Society.

#arc system works #Daisuke Ishiwatari #Nagoriyuki #Nagoriyuki (Guilty Gear)#Guilty Gear #Guilty Gear Strive #ggstrive #theories #THEORIES ARE NOT FACTS #What Do You Fight For #Now It's Time To Feast!#Vampires #Sol Badguy #character analysis #I might be wrong #take this with a grain of salt

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skyystars · 5 years ago

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oc info about all my ethermourne stuff below the cut, if anyones interested! it is. a lot.

edit: after writing this what the fuck thats so much- if you have any questions about them please dont hesitate to ask but i would not blame you if you took one look at this post and ran HSJDFH there’s like 35 listed and thats still not all of them. zoinks

ethermourne is your typical dnd esque world. theres two kinds of people in the world, commonfolk and enchanted, and enchanted are people that can use various forms of magic. in the current story, a secret underground rebellion is going on against the kingdom, in order to free enchanted and bring justice to the world. theres a million and one characters here so bear w me. all characters belonging to my friends are marked with a *

on the black rock pirate ship,

captain shining - a fierce and protective leader. human. she’d do anything for her crew. commonfolk. damn near unstoppable with a sword. lifelong partner to orion ethermourne

johnathan bramwell - the first mate. human. quiet and reserved but goofy when he opens up. storm mage. lover of the sky- hates being in crowded areas on land. intelligent, loves to read and write letters. eventual boyfriend to nordwood thatch

aspen* (no lastname i dont think?) - boatswain. human. somber and stoic, a bit detached. big on family. half blind. ice mage. acts as a father figure to delphi

calvin - carpenter. old soul. human. does a lot of the heavy lifting for the ship. excellent storyteller. fire mage. usually brings some sort of wisdom or moral to someone on the ship.

nellie - cooper. human. misses her family, but has a heart of gold for the ship. scottish- often times hard to understand. ability to turn invisible. has a crush on tobi

galen* - doctor. timid and polite. wants to help people, will sacrifice his own health and safety to look after someone else. human(?). necromancer. arrived on the ship with enmea and quickly became like a brother to kaido

delphi - gunner. a young girl, easily excitable and a bit of a romantic. human. looks out for the people her age on the ship, acts sisterly to them. able to read a few moments into the future.

kaido - navigator. young, free spirited, reckless. human. flight and telekinesis. eager to fight or find adventure. causes trouble. protects enmea like a younger sister, and is looked after by galen, who he eventually accepts as an older brother.

enmea* - powder monkey. goblin, steals and bargains with the crew for fun but never means any real harm. witty and sarcastic. illusion and misdirection magic. especially loves to bother bramwell and nordwood with her antics.

faine* - cook. satyr. loves to be the life of a party. has lived many years and mostly achieved peace but like, loves to dick around. plantaemancer. has a big crush on aspen.

nordwood percival thatch* - bard. half sun elf. cocky, expensive tastes, confidence, and flirty. magic can summon figures of light/magic to do his bidding/can impact emotions of people in vicinity. hopelessly in love with bramwell.

on land,

artemis ethermourne - the king of the empire. sun elf. main antagonist. commonfolk. younger brother of orion and husband to rietta

orion ethermourne - original leader of the rebellion. sun elf. warlock (jack of all trades), considered one of the most powerful of his time. was publicly executed by his brother when caught. left apprentice muriel in charge. partner of shining.

muriel becker* (murr) - aasimar enchanted. missing his halo due to an incident he doesnt mention. wants to become skilled in magic and art. raven symbolism- along with having his own companion raven, keeha. very tired and stressed. secretly dating amaris.

amaris hayles* (mars) - hunter/scout, commonfolk. drow/moon elf. dry humor, but a lot goes over his head. responsible and caring, looks out for much of the rebellion. doesnt talk much. dating muriel.

chevel troubleice - inventor, commonfolk. human. low self esteem but he’s Trying. interested in alchemy and learns more about magic through his teacher, murr.

evercon archer - enchanted rebel scout. wood elf. air magic. considers himself a loner. nomadic, feigns a know-it-all attitude. doesnt like cities. under technical responsibility of amaris. eventually falls for woodrow.

tuka archer - enchanted rebel worker. wood elf. fire mage. responsible for helping safe travel for other through the woods. fur trader. big social personality, loves people and doesnt care too much what anyone thinks of him. brother to evercon and eventual lover to phinehas.

phinehas* - aasimar. i assume hes enchanted but now im actually not... sure....???? omg. anyway he’s soft, kindhearted and a poet. loves to write and is into theater. level headed for the most part. in love with tuka, ex of murr but on good terms!! theyre still friends

woodrow jace andes* - enchanted tiefling bard. extremely sad but makes jokes to cope. sad jokes. the kind that make everyone else uncomfortable. necromancer. lives in a fucking dragon skeleton which is kind of badass. is embarrassingly soft for evercon.

vaughn hayles* - moon elf. idk if he’s enchanted or nah. protector, guardian, soft spoken. looks after a village, family means a lot to him (despite being unmarried). amaris’ dad.

elena bramwell - human, commonfolk, deceased. was small and determined. bram remembers her fondly, and recalls that she enjoyed music and dance, as well as having a talent for making flowercrowns and storytelling. bramwell’s mother.

tobi* - tavernkeep. commonfolk. he is liddol and irish and knows how to play the banjo. has a massive crush on nellie. i love him dearly

on the sundancer pirate ship,

captain sylvan skybridge - enchanted human. light magic. is very tired but patient with his crew. false confidence has kept him going for almost a decade and hes not stopping now. only slightly concerned about... everyone on his ship

paige* - first mate. commonfolk witch, able to just barely cast spells and enchant objects. jack-of-all-trades, cunning, and incredibly clever at problem solving. mothers the crew if anyones in need. has a crush on michael.

michael grey* - doctor. commonfolk? enchanted? we just don’t know. a little disillusioned with reality. can see ghosts and has a small gang that follows him everywhere. sylvan and paige are the only crew members hes vaguely familiar with. has a crush on paige. **note: michael has 4 ghosts that follow him but im not listing them here just yet hh

ashton everett* - gunner. commonfolk human. fearless, exhausted of the shenanigans, genuinely just looking for a hot siren girlfriend and dismantling the monarchy.

oscar* - boatswain. chaotic, will start a fight- but hes pretty terrible at getting himself out of trouble. needs tucked in at night. inseparable from lew.

lew* - boatswain. calm, collected, used to oscar’s antics. helps take care of the ship, has a turtle.

rhubarb* - cook. human enchanted. plant powers. just trying to get along with everybody. don’t insult his cooking he’s trying his hardest. probably the oldest on the ship.

waverly* - enchanted human. like a bird selkie, can turn into a raven. spends a lot of her time this way. escaped from a traveling circus and joined the crew to help free others like her.

cloud* - siren. tried to bring down the sundancers crew to prove herself, failed miserably and ended up liking them all. flirts relentlessly but is god awful at it.

additional notes:

-some of them exist in a modern au, mainly involving bram/nord/mars/murr as a ghost hunting gang who always finds themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. bram and mars form a brotherly bond over time. in modern au elena is discovered to be alive. vaughn winds up falling in love with her (it is very cute).

-i often draw sylvan and captain ryan of the silent requiem. this pirate ship belongs to my friend sept and is placed in her own world, so none of that crew is mine ;w; most of their shenanigans are in a crossover state where a very sylvan begs ryan to teach him what to do as a captain, and ryan looks after him like a son (though he’d fucken deny it). young syl is far too curious for his own good and gets into trouble a lot. sorry dad

creds: galen, aspen, enmea, faine, nord, murr, mars, tobi, phinehas, woodrow, vaughn, and paige are all characters that belong to my friend bee. michael grey belongs to my friend jake. ashton belongs to my friend rueben. oscar and lew belong to my friend kenzie. rhubarb belongs to my friend pasta. waverly belongs to my friend cal. cloud belongs to my friend sara.

#ethermourne #blackrock pirates #sundancer #jesus christ thats a lot

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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Living a Boring Lie (Pieces of the People We Love, Part 3.)

Series description: Not many people had the chance to see a vault or to mean anything in the world of Pandora. Will a hardly built relationship in the loneliness of the desert have the potential to change anything in the world of anarchy and chaos - or will the friends try to murder each other?

Part summary: Against your better judgement, it was now obvious that taking Scooter in wasn’t that bad of an idea - yet one radio transmission was all it took to change your entire life around.

Series warnings: A lot of guns, violence, reader is a tough badass - not a vault hunter tho. They’re badass and don’t give a fuck. And Scooter is a dumb bitch, as always. All Psychos and Fanatics are various Vine references - oh, what luck that reader can understand them since she is friends with Bandits.

Word count: 4 K

Tagging: @notaliteraltoad

Series masterlist: H E R E

Series playlist: H E R E

Boys, just as you asked them to, drove you right to your lonely shack in the desert. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but it wasn’t resolving just yet either. It was a few years back when you found it just standing in the middle of nowhere, knowing immediately that this beauty was your dream home. It was far away from any possible trouble happening on Pandora, you didn’t even know that the Eiridium cracked Pandora’s surface open until you’ve heard the wild news on the radio and even after that, you needed to see it for yourself before you told yourself “Yep, this fuckery had totally happened”. Other than that, it was far away from anything alive - there were no Skags in the proximity of your house, no flying fuckers, no people in sight; it was surely the loner’s paradise if you will.

Swiftly, you opened the main door and invited him to the ‘everyday room’, as you called it. It was the living room, kitchen, dining room, and hall all mashed up together. The only other room inside the house was your bedroom and a small bathroom and a toilet. With a vague movement, you’ve shown Scooter the old couch and took all of the excessive clothing you’ve had on. With too much of a noise, you put your shotgun on the table, and then, you took out a small glass to pour yourself some vodka. With irony, you’ve given Scooter a toast and kicked every drop of the liquid inside your throat.

“Take the couch and if you’d like to have something to drink, the water pipes should be still working. Or pour yourself some vodka for all I care.” - And with that, you took all of your things and carried them to your room. How comes you didn’t notice that it was already this late? It was almost midnight. You’ve realized how tired you were at the exact moment you took a good look at your bed. As if your brain just realized how incredibly all of your muscles hurt, you literally fell to your mattress, taking the clothes along with falling asleep. It was strange, knowing that you weren’t alone in that. That night, you’ve been half-asleep and half-awake; your ears were listening to every sound - for quite some time, you could hear deep breaths and light snoring. Yet as soon as the sounds have stopped, you’ve had a nice, long sleep. The house was strangely when the dawn rolled around.

You were still laying on your bed, the blanket was half fallen off your thigh, your hair was completely messed up. Honestly, you looked like a hot piece of garbage. It could almost be considered a peaceful morning - until a loud bang ripped your ears apart. Something exploded. Something fucking exploded near your house; there was a high-pitched noise going on repeat in your eardrums. A feeling of dizziness was making you feel sick as you tried to pick yourself up for a few seconds. The smell of scalds was in the air and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d just find a motherfucking huge hole in the living room’s wall. As you finally stood on your feet and could tell which side is right and left, you searched for the shotgun. Thankfully, you’ve seen only one of these. When your head stopped spinning, you’ve walked out to see what was happening. At first, you’ve been going through hundreds and hundreds of scenarios. Did the COV attack on your cabin? Or could it be Walrus’ men from Ham’s Creek? What reason would they have to attack you? You haven’t tried to fuck anyone over in the last few years as far as you could recall, so no-one had a particular reason to attack your house just simply out of the blue. Out of boredom? Yes, you could see that someone would’ve done that out of boredom.

There was no more time to think about the reasoning behind a simple grenade blow. In fact, there wasn’t time for anything - you hadn’t a moment to put any kind of pants on or to, at least, wear a coat for fuck’s sake. No, you simply burst into the cold desert dawn in a tank top, panties, and with a long shotgun in your hand. The night could’ve ended merely an hour ago. Sun was still barely above the horizon, the huge massifs of rock were still covered in shadows and some kind of a mysterious mist. First, you made sure that your gun was ready to shoot before you turned your gaze to non-other than Scooter himself. That crazy-ass of a man was sitting on one of the power line columns with a screw he stole from your small workshop situated in the corner of the living room. With horror written in your eyes, your mouth had opened as you watched him out there. Was he about to kill himself? - “What the hell are you doing out there? Just don’t… Don’t just jump down, will you? I don’t want to have a bloody fucking porch. Just climb down, come on, man. Do you want to talk it out, maybe? I’m not the best at this kind of stuff, but I can take you to see Pintley. Do you realize that suicide is not the solution here on Pandora? I mean… If you want to really die, I can take the small chip out of the nape of your neck, and then you can have a nice little harakiri.”

The man was looking at you at first, leaning his elbows to the top of the column as he twisted the screw between his fingers. Then he smiled, waving down on you. - “Ya funny in the mornin’, I tell ya, man!” - The tone of his voice was joyful and happy, so… Maybe, suicide wasn’t what he was trying to do. As you realized that he’s not about to jump down, you’ve calmed down and started to think it all through. He was sitting on top of the electric power line… In that case, could the electricity straightaway just burn his damn ass? You had a New-U ten seven miles away from your home so, if the electricity would burn him until only ashes and black goo would remain after him, he would still be respawned not too far from where you were standing. Technically, if you’d like to help him get burned, all it would take would be just one round and one gunshot… Quickly, you stopped yourself from thinking about hurting someone. Not to let the ice-cold mask slip, you just stood there without any emotion inside, just as if you just died from the inside. Then, Scooter started talking again.

"I am not tryin’ to kill myself, man. I am just tryin’ somethin’ out and I want to repair you Catch-A-Ride station since it’s kinda my thingy." - Scooter explained calmly. Oh, Catch-A-Ride, yes, that was "kinda his thingy" since it was his and his sister’s business. To be exact, it was the only car business running on the entire planet. But why on the world was he climbing up on a column that was at least twenty feet high? Then, you finally noticed what had exploded - there was a fucking crater just not even two feet away from your door - it was the exact place where the mysterious thing had blown up. Since there was anyone other than Scooter, it was almost blatantly obvious who had thrown the fucking explosive.

"And why… The fuck… Is there a huge ass hole just two feet away from my door? Were you trying to kill me? In my sleep? Very cavalier-ish, that’s all I’m going to tell you. Wow." - The irony in your voice was almost palpable, just like the spikes coming out of your eyes. Did you really think that he’s trying to kill you? Yes, you fucking did and you weren’t about to give him any of that for free. But… Scooter didn’t seem to care about any of that. In fact, he seemed not to give the slightest fuck about your bad mood. It was probably just his sunshine aura that was making him blind. He completely ignored your furrow and wide-open eyes and leaned even further into the wooden construct under his arse.

Once more, you looked up and shot your gaze right to his eyes. He was raising one finger, pointing at you. - "Man, I dunno what ya been doin’ here, but ya had a Torgue grenade stuck in ya power line, rippin’ one of the cables out, ya see now? Since ya power line is powerin’ the station, that was the reason why the machinery was not workin’. Thank me later, alligator." - As he finished the sentence, the corners of his lips turned into an even bigger smile. With a dumbfounded expression, you looked at the man. Deat. Fucking. God. Wasn’t this dumbass a treat? Wasn’t it amazing to have him at your home? Wasn’t it a delight, to have him around?

No. Not it fucking wasn’t a delight for you. For him? Maybe. And you hated every second of sharing your personal space with a burning passion. It sucked shit if, you had to be honest. Even though he didn’t have the opportunity to try to make you talk, you could simply tell that he’s into conversations. The man surely liked to laugh, to have normal human interactions, and just the simple feeling and acknowledging of the fact was making you nervous. To say the least, it was disrupting your anti-social loneliness in the middle of the desert. And now, when he was just sitting there and poked around with the damn screw. Because of said screwing around, you were expecting to be grateful for having him at your place. You wanted to shoot something so badly you were about to cry. Just because you wanted to act like the adult one in the situation, you straightened and screamed the first thought which came to your mind.

"Um, um, um... Yeah! Fuck you, man! I can’t even use grenades." - Then, you turned on your heels and walked back home, getting ready to go to sleep once you'd reach your bed again. For Scooter, the conversation clearly wasn't over as he started to yell at you once your back was turned to him. "And what is my motivation behind killin’ ya, huh? I’m not a hunter or a monster or cannibal, man. What the hell would I do with your corpse?" - He yelled back, but the only thing you did was that you showed him your middle finger. After drinking a whole glass of milk to sleep better, you laid back in your bed.

But not even an hour after this little situation had passed by, another loud bang sounded through the neighborhood. This time, you opened your eyes immediately and looked into the ceiling. One of your eyes was ticking as you tried to get it all together. The dude was a stranger, right? If you'd drag him somewhere, no-one here would be searching for him, right? Everyone already thought he was dead, so if you'd kick him out and let him wander around the desert until he'd get him killed... You surely wouldn't be to blame, right? This time, you took your time with dressing up as you furiously mumbled various things you could start yelling at him once you'd run out of the door. Although, you still decided to go with the weakest ones you came up with. "Ok. That’s it, Scooter, that's it. I thought you’ll at least be a quiet roommate. That you'd magically disappear one day. That would leave to me, living my life just like I did before you respawned. But you just can’t help it, can you? You're here for the first literal day! And what are you up to? You talk, talk, talk, and smile, and you're being all friendly and... For the love of God, go pack your things or… I'm… About… To... Shoot... you?” - The last words were uttered as a whisper as you stopped with the yelling.

Sure, your throat was ready to go on with the daily dose of yelling, but something different had taken your breath away. The Catch-A-Ride ramp had a runner parked on top of it, and that meant only one thing. The station was repaired and working. For a second, you were staring at the car, then at Scooter, and then you turned your attention back to the car. Scooter was standing right next to it with a wrench in his hand, giving you and a shit-eating grin. "Ya were sayin’, cupcake? I'm afraid I didn't hear ya." - It didn't escape past your radars that his voice had n impressive amount of irony in it, but that wasn't the thing which had blown you away. The car itself was... A miracle. You weren't able to make it work for such a long time and it took Scooter merely four hours to get it going. A working car. Who would've suspected that such simplicity could make your life so much easier? A car whose motor was running meant that you didn't have to wake up before sunrise every morning, it meant that you didn't have to go such distances on foot.

"Nothin'. Forget I was saying something." - For a moment, you looked at him in a way he'd describe as 'different' - your eyes didn't look like two about-to-be-shooting laser guns, there wasn't a furrow in your face and you seemed to be a nice person for once. Sure, it lasted for a mere second, but it was there. Scooter had seen it. That was all that mattered to him to determine you're not as much of a pain in the ass as you tried to present yourself to be. There was something into you, but obviously, you weren't used to letting that side of yourself out as much. It existed, tho and Scooter was immediately out of his mind racing about ever surreal consequences in which he'd be able to achieve anything like that - instead of that, he decided to rant about the cars. Normally, if he'd realize that a woman might be... Nice, he'd start saying so much bullshit that someone like you would blast him through the roof of your house with your shotgun alone. So, at that place and that time, he decided not to start a random rant.

"Also, ya had an old ass system there, so I looked into that as well. Your system was last updated a longer time ago than the time I've died and that’s sad. Man, cars are like unicorns - you need to take care of 'em. I re-uploaded ya an old cloud file into the system, with the… Ya know, basically everythin’ ya should need in here. Bandit technicals, those flyin’ thingies from Elpis. All is set up and ready to good.” - The man stood up next to you, patting the car with his palms gently. - "Now, when we're friends again, Cowboy... Wanna try those beauties, huh? I’m pretty hungry." When you turned your head at him, his face had a huge, naughty smile on it. At that moment you, gave him a naughty smile back, being on the same wave as he was. Now, you could hunt down at least four skags in half the time - that meant more money and more time. Sure, Scooter still wasn't your favorite human being on the whole planed and he still was invading your personal space... But he had a few good traits in him.

Neither of that hadn't even matter, since not even an hour later, you were both boosting the living shit out of your brand new Light Runner. Scooter was yelling at the top of his lungs meanwhile you sat behind the steering wheel, laughing. Damn, did it feel good to be driving a car again. The adrenaline was running wild in your bloodstream as you cut the sharpest turns with the machine. It felt good to simply step on the pedal and to feel the car rushing forward. Neither of you felt the rush for quite some time and damn, didn't this make both of you feel alive for a moment. Now, you sped directly from a pretty high cliff, jumping down into a canyon. Now, the screaming got even higher-pitched as the car fell on the ground with a loud thud. Scooter started laughing as well once he caught his breath. It was nice to see someone was enjoying Catch-A-Ride, the thing he had created, as much as you did.

As you drifted along the endless desert, your favorite hunting playlist was blasting through the silence broken by the howling of your car's pneumatics and the loud roaring of the engine. As you turned the engine off and got on your foot so you could actually hunt the skags, Scooter surprised you as he stayed in the gunner's seat on his own - saying he's just going to watch you from the distance. And boy oh boy, did he got a good view of... Everything that was going on. Well, it was hard to decide whether he was a bit too turned on or if he was worried for his dear life. When you only shot at the skags, it was cool. But once one of the skags tried to jump at you from the behind and you caught it by the throat with your metal arm, Scooter realized that he might be in danger. You literally threw the animal on the ground, stepping on it to hold it down as you shoot the brains out of its skull. By the time four huge skags were tied up on the body of the car, you decided it's enough. Scooter condescendingly agreed with you, still having everything fresh in his brain. Quite dramatically, you drove your car directly to Hell’s Cauldron and stopped in front of Pintley’s pub with the smile of a winner as you got out. To finish everything, you put your huge hat on your head, dragging the bags with skags in.

"Top of the mornin’ to ya, lads." - You patted one of the local’s back and threw one of the dead bodies directly in front of Pintley. - "Here you go, freshly hunted, not even grilled at this point. Today, I’m taking only forty dollars for one. That’s almost charity work.” - You winked at Pintley, walking out to get the other one as Scooter walked in behind you, playing with his cap in his palms. That day couldn’t be more awesome in your opinion - you got paid almost two hundred dollars in cash and both you and Scooter even got a free drink out of Pintley. In the afternoon, Blindy and Rayray came to have a drink with you and to chat for a bit. Yet, every nice day usually goes to shit at some point, right? Why would this day be different?

The BUT of your day came by in the evening, just as you crawled on the rooftop of your cabin and swung your legs from the edge of it, looking at the stars. Scooter asked you for some cabled - he quite literally tore one engines out of his Bandit Technicals and planned on upgrading it, toying around in your kitchen - letting you be alone, which was nice too. BUT, here it comes, not even half-hour from that, your radio came to life. You turned your head to the machine because it stopped playing your favorite song. Now, you've been listening to one of the psychotics rants of the who-the-fuck twins. Carefully, not to drop your bottle of beer, you supported yourself on your elbows as you sighed tiredly. Fuck those guys. Why did they always choose the worst time to hit you up? Goddamn assholes, these two kids.

"Hello, hi, hey. Your favorite god-queen and god-king are talking to you right now! And we need you, right now! We need you to group up because the Maliwan ships are on their way? What are we doing, you might be asking? Oh, I'll tell you! We're about to attack the vault thieves because they’re trying to take OUR. VAULT. AWAY!” - The annoying voice of Tyreen Calypso could be heard nice and clean, just as if she was speaking right next to your fucking head. That girl was the worst and cringiest cult leader you’ve ever seen or heard. Sure, you could perfectly understand why she was a cult leader, but she wasn't a good one, ah-ah. You'd be a much better leader. At that moment, Scooter walked out of the house and gave you a concerned look.

"Ya hearin’ that bullshit?" - He mouthed in your direction and you nodded, turning the volume up.

"So, if anyone has any info on what they’re doing, give us a call! If you won’t… Well, don’t even think about the things I, the God-Queen you all know and love, am about to do to you! So see you all at Athenas. And don’t forget to like, share, and obey! Tyreen is ouuut!” - The annoying voice finally finished. What you didn't like tho was the gaze Scooterboy was giving. He was just looking as if he expected you to be agitated because of the news. As you still stared at him back, Scooter pointed at the radio, making you curious about what he had to say. Why would this radio message be somehow important? Tyreen and Troy were hunting someone’s throat every other day and each time a message like this reached you, it was about someone different. What were the news then? Should you be… Terrified or something? Ridiculous. That bitch didn’t cross your way once - why would you cross hers?

What Scooter said had left you dumbfounded for the following minutes. You stared at him, he stared back at you and both of you listened to the thing - "Man, I think these vault thieves are my friends.” - Scooter muttered out. At that moment you truly weren't far from shitting yourself. All it did for him was to hear about some vault thieves and he was ready to go. He was all set up to contact his friends, to find them, and to travel across the galaxy just to see them. Scooter was all set up to go on a suicidal mission. And now, there was this bit you didn't like at all. It was almost 90% sure you'd be forced to help him with all of this. Ever since the last evening, Pintley determined you to be Scoot's babysitter. Damn, you knew you were in for a treat (a long-ass argument if you will) as you looked on the car stand just a few yards away.

Sure, you didn't have much of life on Pandora - while other people on other planets were having families, kids, good lives, and jobs... You were just a skag hunter, really. You had very little to lose, maybe even less than that. But this wasn't any of your business. Any of that was your business. The VHs were not your friends. Scooter was the dude you saw once. Your place was here, in the endless loneliness of the desert, on your own and alone. Yet as you looked down on Scooter, you knew you better take him to Pintley's pub to discuss a plan. And if you'd decide to leave yourself out of that, Pintley would cross your name out of the pub's list of habitues - and for your information, your name was the only one on the damn list.

And sometimes Blindy's name was written there as well.

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #scooter bordelands #calypso twins #pandora #vault key #vault hunters #borderlands fanfiction #scooter x fem!reader #scooter x reader #borderlands 3

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flyswhumpcenter · 6 years ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me I give myself self-indulgent requests according to this marvelous card!

I didn’t expect to write for Arc-V this soon again but 1. it’s been really fun 2. Shun is my new victim it’s official 3. it actually dawned on me with, finally, a solution to this prompt that has bothered me for a while.

It’s also way longer than I expected it to be. Like, holy shit, I think it’s the longest fic I’ve written fot BTHB yet? I guess sibling love really motivates me, because that’s all this fic is about: siblings protecting each other.

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Birds of a Feather, Fall Together

Summary: In the ruins of Heartland City are Ruri, her brother, and the man who has taken her brother hostage. And it's all up to Ruri, who was on the search for a sibling that was very much late to come back to their camp, to solve the issue of what she'll need to sacrifice to the hands of the enemy: her companions, her brother, or herself. Shun, however, couldn't disagree more with these options.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V Relationships: Ruri & Shun (siblings, platonic)

Wordcount: 4.5K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Throughout the deserted ruins of what once was the colourful and lively Heartland City, now shadow of what it had once been drowning in its own silence, resonated panicked footsteps and a seeking voice. A lone girl only armed with a disk attached to her arm was in search of someone, strolling through the debris, walking over shattered glass, her pink eyes focused on not getting caught by anyone, not to get spotted by malevolent eyes.

What was left of the once peaceful streets was devoid of anyone, resident or invader, good or bad (albeit the concept was somewhat outdated, she had found out). The quietness was eerie to her, but she pressed on, hearing only her breathing, the sound of her brave but cautious footsteps, and her surroundings for any possible enemy. There was no sense of security to be had, only a sense of danger trying to sneak up on her.

Ruri had lived through the Invasion long enough to know what she needed to be careful about, what she wouldn’t be forgiven for would she commit it. Obelisk Force soldiers could be everywhere, at any time, to enjoy carding her by ganging up on her and summoning a terrible beast to remind herself of the trauma of the war her people hadn’t asked for. Trusting people was essential but shouldn’t have been abused: survival required to work together, but to also think for oneself.

To be honest, Ruri hated having to be selfish about something as basic as being human; but that was what her brother had taught her so she could make it out of the Invasion alive, or at least survive long enough to see things getting better, acting through one duel at a time.

She regretted having gone to search on her own. At least, being with someone else like Sayaka or Allen would have given her a sense of security, even if that sentiment was fake or artificial. However, she had felt like they’d need to be as stealthy as possible, in a time where the enemy could be everywhere and attack at any time with a force a thousand times stronger than they could have ever hoped to get. But she was a tough girl, she could do that on her own without endangering anyone other than her; so she shook her head and tried to stop her shivers, to ignore the cold wind blowing through her hair and the cold sweats going down her back.

She had one objective, only one: finding her brother again. He had gone to recover resources for the camp a couple of hours before yet had been way too late coming back for it not to be suspicious. At best, he had gotten into troubles with the weight of the resources and was on his way to get backup. At worse, he’d be… He’d have left them without any hope to return. With the deepest desire not to see her beloved sibling carded and discarded on the floor next to some debris or to see him in any distorted shape, Ruri pressed on, fearful steps getting increasingly more determined, fasting the pace as long as nobody showed up in her fields of view or hearing.

The streets had become strangers to her before growing familiar again: it was how humans were getting used to misery, violence and hiding in a hole not to be imprisoned, tortured or meeting their end in cruel, blood-tainted hands. In this world where the strongest ruled, she couldn’t have any high hope for her brother to be fine when she’d eventually find him, if she was going to find him at all. Yet, she found herself praying, perhaps uselessly, that he was going to be in one piece and okay by the time they’d reunite. She needed to bring him back to the base, if just for his own safety.

Truly, it was in those moments that Ruri would have appreciated that Shun was less of a natural loner, “I’m going to protect everyone by putting myself on the line” type of person. At least, they’d have convinced him not to look for stuff on his own.

Suspicious noises picked Ruri’s attention, then interest. Her curiosity had never let her down, even since the Invasion had taken place. After spending a dozen or so of minutes hanging around the desolated ruins of Heartland in complete silence aside from her shoes crunching shattered glass and rummaging through stone, she was bound to be intrigued by suddenly hearing any human noise. Making sure to be stealthy, she glided along the walls, avoided all possible noise from stepping on potential sources of betrayal, and eventually arrived in the spot where the noise came from.

And then she almost screamed.

Squinting her eyes from behind the wall, the first thing that bestowed Ruri’s eyes was the unforgettable image of an Obelisk Force soldier surrounded by what looked like two gallons of water and with a smashed Duel Disk attached to his wrist, locking her brother in his arms, the blade of a knife on the latter’s throat, close enough from where she was for her to think he was about to be throttled on the spot. Distant yells reached her ears, “stop moving around, brat”, “if you don’t calm down, I won’t hesitate”. No offer to surrender. Her brother’s feet desperately trying to get out of there until the knife was placed right under his chin.

Before she knew it, Ruri had sidestepped to see more, to guess if she should run away and risk getting spotted to get some help or if she could deal with it on her own and free Shun from the lock on his neck. There was no time to go get aid from Kaito or Yuto, if they were back from their mission that was: her brother was about to have his throat slashed if someone didn’t do anything.

When Ruri finally looked back at the scene, the soldier was looking right into her eyes, having obviously spotted her. Gulping, she approached, careful of the hand holding the knife, making sure to look strong or even menacing as she did so. She was going to save her brother from the imminent danger, after all she had to be strong, in these dire times, and she wouldn’t hesitate to duel the man who had dared lie a hand on her brother.

Oh, wait. His disk had been smashed, presumably by Shun himself. She’d have to settle that in other ways, something not uncommon to her.

“Stop in your tracks!”

The yell of the soldier made her do just as he ordered, if not just by surprise. Despite her absolute want to save her sibling, Ruri had to admit she was at a disadvantage: no real weapon aside from a Duel Disk that’d take too long to use compared to the time required to slash someone’s body with a blade of any sort and no way to pressure the man into surrendering his hostage.

“Ruri!” Shun’s screaming, yet audibly strained, voice made itself heard against the cold of the blade. “Ruri, get out of here, go away, right now!”

“But, brother! I can’t give up on you like that!”

Her response didn’t seem to please him in the slightest, as he was about to respond to her with an enforced frown on his face, but the knife got even closer to his throat.

“If you don’t fuckin’ shut it, I’m killing you on the spot.”

Her brother grudgingly accepted to stay quiet, as she could see from the frown still present yet his voice disappearing entirely from the air. This was messed up and, if she wasn’t trying to save one of the people dearest to her, she’d have perhaps shed a tear; but this was, as Shun would have said himself, a battlefield where crying didn’t matter and didn’t improve things, where it was to kill or be killed. A reality she clearly hated, a reality that she had to face every day, a reality that was threatening them both yet again.

The fire inside of her, however, didn’t stop burning. She felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body, making her limbs tense up and her mind get sharper, like the predator about to jump on its victim, yet she wasn’t the predator there: she was more like the prey waiting for its hunter to go away. If she had to defy odds to get her brother back, she would: Resistance members stuck together and, like two birds of the same feathers, siblings helped each other out. It was her time to help Shun out of a dangerous situation.

“Ruri, huh…” The soldier mused to himself for a moment, before a smile creeped on his face. “So you two know each other, right?”

She didn’t respond. That was an obvious trap and she wouldn’t step in it.

“Oh well. What about we make a little deal, you and I?”

That was already more interesting and less one-sided, but she had to remain focused and suspicious. You could never trust the Obelisk Force, Shun and Yuto had reminded them all numerous times before, and she had seen that from her own two eyes. There was no backing down, but there was also no suspension of disbelief.

“You give out the location of your precious, fellow members, and he shall be free. What about that?”

Shun angered right in front of her, pupils retracting and fists balling up. His arms were oddly free, but a slash of a knife could be quicker than any punch or kick.

“Don’t listen to that offer, it’s a scam! Protec-”

He was interrupted by a cut on his right cheek, his frown deepening with a little grunt, to which she had to keep in a yelp of horror.

“I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?! Next time you open it up, it’s your throat I’m gonna cut!”

Her brother went back to being silent, red trickling down his face and to his neck in thin flows. Ruri was left wondering what to do: giving their position was obviously a no-go, she would have never betrayed her companions for anything, but what else could she do that wouldn’t risk her life or his? If she approached even further, Shun could die a moment later. She had no other bargaining chip than what she couldn’t give up for anything. Even her moral horizon, her last resort, was doomed to fail: activating the carding function on her disk would also card Shun in the process, making the entire ordeal utterly pointless, if not counterproductive, and she’d lose someone close to her yet again. There was no way out of this…

“Wait, miss.”

This got Ruri’s attention back to the soldier, rather than her own thoughts and a plan of action she couldn’t find.

“What about I give you another proposition?”

“What is it, this time? I won’t ever give up on my comrades.”

She tensed up without fully realizing it, anxiety getting to her to the point of making her nauseous and dizzy, even though she had no time to breathe when such a climax had been reached.

“You come with me, and I let him go.”

Ruri couldn’t know what the soldier had in mind when proposing that deal to her. Did she hold any special value, more than Shun did? Was this a trap all over again? It could have very well been such. She had to exert the utmost caution as she went through with the deal, thinking it over and over. Was she ready to bet for her brother to bail her out of there once he’d be freed? Was she ready to trust a pure stranger, a dangerous one of that, with such a thing?

As the answer kept getting more and more uncertain in her mind, she noticed Shun talk to her through lip movements, something they had learnt together to communicate more easily between themselves. “Don’t you dare do that,” he told her with cold irises and blood still trickling from the fresh cut. He didn’t wince, didn’t let the sting show, just continued speaking to her in a silent voice, “don’t you dare, Ruri”.

“You’re sure you’ll really let him go?”

“What more do you need as a proof?”

She made a step forward, judging his reaction, hoping she was jeopardizing the already-tense situation. The soldier, much to her surprise, actually took the blade further from Shun’s neck, but that wasn’t without the latter reacting with far less appreciation, continuing with the silent scolds, “don’t do that, Ruri, don’t do that”. She couldn’t let her lips move, otherwise she’d betray her cover and ruin her attempts. This was her, no, their only chance. She couldn’t mess it up.

“So, you’ve decided? You against him?”

She didn’t respond, attempting not to show the slightest indication as to the contents of her hand, yet still got close enough to him to be in range to do something. Responding would betray either her true intentions or her brother; she simply couldn’t take that risk. She was already bluffing as is, having to bear her heart threatening to pulverise her ribcage from the inside and the slight wave of nausea covering the insides of her throat. There was no need to put everything at risk for what could be nothing.

But she had forgotten Shun had a mind on his own, a mind that was definitely bent on protecting others and acting on his own.

Events and twists unfolded at a speed so intense that she was barely able to keep up. Her brother grabbed the soldier’s armed wrist with his own hand, trying to make him discard it on the floor by violently shaking it, somewhat arriving to accomplish that until, before both sibling could realize that was happening, someone had been stabbed, blood pouring from an abdominal wound. Due to the similar size of the two men in front of her, she was unable to guess whose blood it was, who had been injured; but things were happening much too quickly for her to guess that with exactitude. Instead, the soldier kicked her brother in the stomach, making him drop to his knees, the knife falling onto the ground with a droplet of red jumping as it did so, splatters on the dirty ground, and a flash of light blinded her.

When her eyes opened again, the only things left for her to see were the discarded knife and her brother, exhaling a shuddering breath, on his knees but almost falling from that poor balance, a hand on the ground, and a card right next to him.

Feeling a terror rising that she didn’t quite understand, Ruri rushed to her brother’s side, kneeling right next to him. The card was what she had thought it to be: Shun had carded someone, presumably in self-defence. Considering how strong he was in hand-to-hand combat, her fear grew wider, until she noticed a hand on his left side, clutching his coat, crimson dripping between his fingers. Pearls of sweats were appearing on his face, his breath seeming even more fragile as heard from up-close.

“B-brother, you’re bleeding…!” she exhaled, half in a cry and half in a whisper. “Let me check it…”

“I’ll… I’ll be fine, Ruri. Let’s head back to the base…”

“You got stabbed, didn’t you?! You’re not fine, Shun, let me check your injury at least!”

He put his hand away from the wound, revealing a dark red, almost maroon, stain quickly expanding.

“Oh my, it’s terrible… We need to bring you back as soon as possible to the camp…”

He rose to his feet before she did, but he quickly started swaying on his, prompting her to prop his arm on her shoulders. She had seen him do it many times for Yuto and the opposite way around, she could completely manage this. Her brother had always been a featherweight, a glass cannon of sorts: she tried to make sure he didn’t get in too rough of a shape, but it was getting exponentially harder with time going and especially as the Invasion was taking place. Yet, she’d do her possible, all that she could, and that started with bringing him back to their base.

Then she remembered something important.

“Wait, Shun.”

“What is it?”

He attempted to have a sharp tone, but it only came off as snappy.

“It’d be better if we stopped the bleeding… Could you sit down for a minute? I’m going to apply pressure on the wound.”

He gave her a weird look, skewed even, before giving in and sitting down on a patch of debris. Ruri had taken some basic first-response lessons back before the city had been destroyed, and only improved on them afterwards, making her hands move almost on their own: she opened her brother’s coat, removed a piece of fabric she had around her waist, and applied pressure on it with all the force she could gather in her arms. Would she not have had an iron determination to save him, she’d have let herself tremble. However, in times where she was needed, she couldn’t falter, so she pressed on.

Unfortunately, Ruri had to admit something else: the wound was deep and, as such, bleeding profusely. She couldn’t stop what she now knew to be a haemorrhage, even if with her best efforts she had slowed down the flow, getting herself drenched in red.

“Can you please hold it on there for me, brother…? I wish I could do more, but that’ll have to do for now. Let’s go, okay?”

Without a vocal reply, he did as she had told him to: he put his hand over the piece of fabric, itself on the wound, and they got up, his arm still on her shoulders, walking slowly but surely towards the base.

Because she was aware of how dimmed down Shun’s reflexes had to have been by this point, trying not to count by herself the volume of blood he had already lost, Ruri had to be sharper than ever. Her ears were focused on the potential unusual sounds that could have greeted them, her eyes were focused on her brother’s vitals, her touch felt feverish under the weight of having to care for the two of them. The streets were deserted, but that was far from meaning they were safe for anyone: an Obelisk Force soldier could have found his colleague carded and have been on the hunt for them. She had to make sure they weren’t attacked and, if they were, that they could defend themselves and get out of there.

To be fair, she didn’t exactly remember the time she had spent walking from their base to the spot where she had found Shun taken hostage. She’d have estimated it to be around a dozen of minutes, perhaps less, perhaps more. There hardly was a way to know what time it was when exploring the wastelands, she hadn’t even thought of checking if she could check what time it was at any point.

That, sadly, didn’t prevent her from having this atrocious feeling of being slow. Their walking speed was usual fast because they were used to the ruins, but with his condition at that moment, she could have only expected to slogging through the streets. Yet, the slower they got, the harder it was for him to push himself on his two feet despite not having both her arms as support, the more anxious she got: would they make it to somewhere safe in time? They were both struggling, silent as tombs, because nobody spoke in the wastelands.

The moment her eyes spotted a familiar camp, Ruri felt like she could have jumped out of joy. They had made it there and, judging by the fact Shun could still support himself and walk, they’d make it in time. He’d, most likely, still be alive tomorrow: but things weren’t set in stone yet. As such, she tried picking up the pace, but she kept hearing pained grunts and pants from him, sweat blistering on his face, his cut having finally stop bleeding, breathing heavily. She had no time to lose: she needed to make it to their camp as soon as possible.

Relief washed over her again when other members of the Resistance noticed them arriving and took things into their hands, but not before she almost fell, brought down by the collapse of her barely conscious brother. Relief and concern fought for dominance over her mind: on one hand, help was arriving with men and their gurney approaching them quickly, but on the other, Shun seemed miserable and on the brink of death. It could have gone either way, at that point, so she just helped them get him on the gurney and watched them run to the medic’s tent, slowly trailing behind them.

Ruri believed herself to be someone with patience, usually and most of the time. She was hard to truly anger, albeit she was prone to being upset for someone else. The Invasion had made her a bit more apathic than before, but she remained more optimistic than most of the camp: they could see the end of the dark times if they stuck together.

While she was a firm believer of that and the virtue of being patient, she also had a sense of urgency running through her Kurosaki blood, the one she shared with her brother. Because of it, she wanted to stampede through time and not have to wait for any verdict, for any piece of news concerning his condition, if it was bettering or worsening, if he was even going to see the light of the dark days again. She couldn’t stand to lose him, after having lost most of the people she knew to Fusion’s forces. He had to make it out of there alive, for himself, for Yuto, for the others, for her.

She started trying to find different ways to pass time. She entered and exited the tent, paced outside, observed the people around and tried to guess what they were doing with their days, went through her deck, shuffled it, looked through it again to see if she had missed details on the illustrations, then put it back into her disk before going back to pacing outside the tent. They were few enough for information to communicate quickly: most people walking past her gave her sympathetic looks, the kind you’d give to the grieving.

Exhausted by the fears nabbing at her mind, her clothes now tainted with patches of maroons and browns, she eventually resorted to sitting in the part of tent akin to the waiting room of a hospital. It wasn’t comfortable to sit on the ground or a makeshift chair as long, slow minutes passed by, people going and out, yet no feedback on her brother ever came up. In her head started flashing horrific scenarios of how he had been dead on arrival and they just didn’t know how to tell her so without having her break down in tears and drown in her own grief, listing all the reasons she could think of for his early demise. Blood loss, internal haemorrhage, shock, sceptic shock, organ failure, critical medical error, lack of supplies leading to the impossibility to treat the case.

Perhaps she had been too late. Perhaps she had been too slow and, because of her, he was dead. Maybe that, if she had given herself up to the soldier, he’d have been fine and alive… Maybe that’d have given him enough time and distraction to disarm the soldier and they’d have run far away from there, perhaps using one of Raidraptors to escape the vicinity. No, instead, she had been a dumb girl and had let him get stabbed because she hadn’t been able to stop him from going through with a dangerous and desperate plan! She only had herself to blame, and yet she could never apologize to him, and it made all matters worse, and…

Ruri?

A gentle voice called out her name, making her snap back to reality. In her daze, she didn’t really recognize who it was, but it was a woman in her twenties or thirties, dressed in white, splatters of red covering her. She had a soft smile on her face, soft eyes looking into hers, who must have been red from all the crying she had done while waiting.

“Y-yes?” She rose on her feet, feeling a vertigo settle for a great total of three seconds. “D-do you have anything on my brother’s whereabouts?!”

“I won’t lie to you, Ruri, he was in a rough shape when he arrived there. He had already lost a lot of blood and was slowly slipping into shock,” (the knot in her throat kept strengthening: that was it, he was dead), “but I’m happy to tell you that Shun’s pulled through it.”

Tears formed in her eyes again, untamed, a whole other kind of tears that didn’t make her eyes sting.

“It’s going to take a while for him to fully recover, but he’s going to be fine, eventually.”

“C-can I see him now?”

Another smile.

“Of course. If you may follow me.”

The medic’s tent was one of the only large ones of the camp, mostly because it had been sewn together from other tents that had been rendered unusable by assaults and the weather. Yet, it still remained somewhat small, which made it so the walk to wherever her brother was now felt short and to-the-point. To be fair, she didn’t care about what it looked like, as long as it felt as safe as possible and as long as she could see him alive and breathing… It’d be fine, all fine.

No bed nor IV to be seen in the makeshift recovery room, but calm breathing. The woman whose name she still couldn’t remember (the knot in her throat and the emotion, perhaps) had told her to warn her in case something was wrong before leaving her alone in the little space now dedicated to her sibling.

Sitting beside the sleeping-bag-turned-impromptu-hospital-bed, Ruri was observing her brother with little fear and a foreign kind of comfort in her stomach, replacing the pit and the burning acid having churned inside for what had felt like hours. Compared to their previous endeavour, he looked peaceful, as if he had been merely asleep, even if the cloth bandage on his cheek said otherwise, although the unnatural paleness of his face still stung her to see. It couldn’t be avoided until he’d have recovered, she supposed, so she simply held one of his hand and silently rejoiced: they’d see another day together and, one day, journey to the end of the night to see the light of day and healing.

#bad things happen bingo #arc-v #kurosaki ruri #kurosaki shun #angst #hurt comfort #whump #hostage situation #stabbing #cw blood #bleeding #ruri kurosaki #shun kurosaki #brotp: birds of black blossom #bthb 1

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janavoadalov · 6 years ago

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Warming Up A Long Loner Heart, Ophidian Or Human

Janavo X Reader, Hurt/Comfort and fluff. A little bit of angst peppered in here and there. SFW, save for some tasteful make-out descriptions.

It is...long. Like, almost 4000 words. So, bloop, under a Read More.

It has been a few weeks since that mysterious encounter with that supposed “troll” you have found in the woods at a Halloween night. Not that you don’t believe his words, but...perhaps one of those candies you had ended up buzzing up your senses a bit, because you know...holidays and sketchy substances. Perhaps something you drank that night? Eh. That part of your mind insists on denying that the encounter ever happened.

However that little piece of paper with his phone number that you oh-so-dearly kept on your drawer acts as a counterpoint. Fuck! You just remembered. Ever since that night, you never even tried to contact him. Not only because of laziness, but also that impending fear of your phone not being able to call that number. Not to mention that you’re not just talking with your regular run-off-the-mill human- but a literal alien. And a sexy one at that. Regardless, it every once in a while fills your heart with a sharp pang of guilt and neediness every time you imagine those big reptilian eyes of his gazing into yours, tongue flicking out his lips to sense every emotion of yours simply by your scent.

It gets to a point in which those thoughts are what forces you out of your bed and makes you walk up to your drawer and snatch out the paper slip with Jana...Janavo’s number in it. Was it Janavo? or Javano? Who cares, he’ll say it when he greets you. Or so you hope. Sitting down at your bed’s edge, you hesitantly hold up your phone and type in the number sequences and dial up.

*beep...beep...beep...*

Fuck, is it really going to take that long? Will you have to literally go all the way back to the woods to yell his name at that...cave-den of his? Where does that guy even live in to begin with? You sigh and wait some more for him to answer, your foot tapping at the bedroom floor nervously. Tap, tap, tap...

When you, all of a sudden, notice the beeping stop. A deep, husky voice attends you, the closeness of his mouth to the microphone making the audio sound whispery. You shiver and feel butterflies in your stomach, body weakening and your voice trembles.

“Hello? Janavo here. Who is calling?”

Oh, okay, it’s not Javano then. You cough and try your best to answer him without stuttering. That would not be a good way to have your first formal interaction with that cutie, huh?

“Uh...hello, Mr. Janavo! I’m that little human you, uhm, met that Halloween night. You gave me your, uh, number, remember?”

Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest. Holy fuck. You’re talking to that big handsome alien guy you met. With your hardest efforts, you attempt to stop yourself from audibly breathing heavily in both anxiety and excitement.

Recognizing your voice, his tone becomes lighter and softer, and his speech becomes mixed with a happy, high-pitched trill from his chest. That was one of the cutest sounds you’ve ever heard, the audible representation of a smile. It makes you giggle a bit and your heart feels like it just melted.

“Awwww. Hello there, little one. I have been waiting for you to call for so long...sorry about my sudden disappearance that night...was scared someone had seen me.”

No! He doesn’t need to apologize for anything! He just did what you too would do it you were an 8-foot tall alien. Out of nowhere, you feel little droplets of guilt bead into your consciousness. Perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten upset at him leaving you like that. Fuck. You’re feeling shitty now.

“I-I understand! No need to say sorry for it! You just did what was needed”

He senses the sadness in your voice and his voice softens even more. Perhaps you ended up making him feel worried about you..

“Are you okay, little one? You don’t sound so jolly. Do you need any help, or advice? Or just, you know, someone to distract yourself from it?”

You gulp. The last thing you would expect from an alien is for one of them to be so compassionate, like Janavo was at that exact moment. It makes your face flush a bit, and you can’t help but stutter.

“Y-yeah...I’ve been feeling, uh, very...um, lonely. It has been a few weeks since my parents have last visited me...they’re often so occupied with their businesses and errands, and no one else in here can come and give me company...so I could say that adulthood has been really harsh on me for the last few years...”

You truly have been noticing a sharp decline on your mental and social stability ever since you were deemed an adult by your family. Having to live in your own house, pay your own taxes, with the previous support of your parents slowly becoming lost in the fog of the past, makes you feel responsible and independent, but also lonely, as you have no partner to come and spend time with you, nor a group of friends to go on trips or dates with, as your personality is quite...eccentric, to say the least. It’s not everyone who just has a bunch of edgy paraphernalia on their closet and wears them to celebrate the spooky season.

Thinking about this, and remembering your recent meet-up with Janavo in the woods, leads your mind to a realization, that he is most likely what was missing from your life. That missing puzzle piece in your psyche. A loving, understanding individual who is more than eager to help you out and give you the attention you need.

A concerned “hello?” snaps you out of your musings about your life and you, startled, apologize from the silence. The feelings overwhelm you and you sense yourself starting to break into tears. Some self-control would really come in handy right now. But bam, you lost it. Now you’re just a sobbing mess on the phone with a guy who you met once and you think of as a perfect boyfriend for your insecure ass. Shame washes over you, but you can’t do anything at the moment. You swear you could hear a sad little whine from Janavo as he listens to your emotional breakdown, unsure on how to help you.

“Little one...Shhh...Shhhh...It will all be okay. Wipe those tears. Take a deep breath. Would you like to have me come over? I am not sure on how to comfort you too well over a cellphone.”

He talks to you in a low, extremely worried tone. Almost as if you were going to make him cry too. Your thoughts manage to calm down a tad by hearing his voice and the idea of having Janavo come and see you in person both delights you and scares you, having in question the absolutely trainwreck of a mental state that you are in as of now. However your feelings speak louder than your logic and you wail a little “yes...please...” over the phone for him.

He gently shoos away your stress and asks you for your address, soon hanging up afterwards. Shouldn’t take too long for him to come. He lives near your neighbourhood, after all, at some sort of shelter at the local woods. Maybe if he manages to go through the outskirts of this town, he can go pretty much unnoticed, even better knowing how it’s evening. People are already going inside their homes and all. Your feelings start to re-stabilize themselves until you hear loud thundering from the outside. That sound is like the doors of hell opening.

Fucking. Shit. It’s going to rain.

The thought of being stuck inside your house, crying yourself to sleep as the sound of rain acts as the soundtrack for your sadness comes off as way worse and suffocating when you are actually feeling that at the moment and not simply some mental image you come across while listening to screamo albums. The first raindrops hit the roof and you get worried for your lov-ahem, friend. Does he even have an umbrella? Isn’t he going to get, like, sopping wet? What about a cold? Is his body built to endure that? So many questions come to mind.

Barely a few seconds after your hurricane of thoughts, the rain becomes heavier and heavier. from a peaceful shower to a vicious hiss of water and wind hitting your ceiling. Your windows are open and the curtains dance around from the storm. Forcing your body to get up, you soon close them, avoiding anyone from peeking at you and also your belongings from being drenched. It feels like this weather is only going to get worse. Throwing yourself at your bed, you grab your blankets and wrap yourself up in them while letting out a loud sob. Oh, how you needed him to arrive, so quick...you could feel yourself being dragged down by your anxiety again. And it’s not something you want to deal with alone.

The thundering outside nearly deafens you and makes the lights in your house flicker. He still isn’t there. Pulling up your blinds a bit, you can tell that not a lot of people are outside. The streetlights are on, but do little to properly illuminate the surroundings. At that moment, even a flashlight could do better. Creating those little observations and comments in your brain help diverge your consciousness from the dread and highly unlikely scenarios in your brain.

Minute after minute passes, and every second without hearing the doorbell ring burns away at your patience like a hot rod through your forehead. You tremble underneath the sheets, slowly letting go of the tiny remains of self-control you have left. Tears leak out of your eyes and leave dark stains on your pillow.

Almost an hour after Janavo announced his departure, and no signals of his presence. You’re sleepy and your eyes are swollen and sore. Holding onto a nearby cushion, you bury your head into it, moaning out in a forlorn, raspy voice.

“Janavo...”

At that point, you were ready to just snap into an unconscious state. Too much mental strain to be dealt with for such a young person like you. But, all out of a sudden, the sound you hear reverbs through your ears like a heavenly chime.

Ding-dong!~

It’s him! He finally arrived...after that whole ride. You scream his name out loud. Agitation spreads through your whole body and thrusts you out of your bed. Unlocking the door, you see the figure you were longing for so much.

There stood, Janavo Adalov, holding above his head an enormous trash can lid, drops of rain falling in top of it and rolling off into the ground. Where did he even get that from? You don’t even bother thinking about answers. His body seems mostly dry, apart from his tail, boots and a little bit of his pants. Worry is visible on his eyes, glancing at you with wide pupils. His hair, from what you can see, is messy, while his head is mostly covered by his hood.

“Oh, my doll. I apologize so much from leaving you suffering like this. I wish I could have gotten here sooner...”

He drops the soaked lid to the side, wags his tail to get rid of the excessive water, and you gently call him into your home, watching him have to literally duck to get past the door thanks to his large size. As you both get into the living room, he kneels down and opens up his arms invitingly. Without a second thought, you wrap your own around his neck, and you feel him close his around your body, locking you both in a warm embrace. Quiet little sniffles come from you, and Janavo attempts to be reassuring by giving your back a couple light taps. Your head and hands were buried on the fabric of his hoodie, the soft texture soothing your senses. At this point you wish this moment would never end, being exactly what you’ve been desiring for years.

The two of you stay interlocked like that until you loosen your grip on him, letting him free. You wipe your face and nose with your sweater sleeve, and Janavo stands up and follows you as you guide him to your room. Some colorful decorations here and there seem to entice him, as he keeps his focus on them for quite a long time.

You throw yourself on the sheets and watch your visitor sit on the edge of your bed before laying back and turning his face towards you. His eyes still have that telltale expression of concern, but less visibly now than before. His mouth is curled up into a smile at the sight of you so close to him and his sharp snaggle tooth is visible prodding underneath his top lip. Who knew such a big guy could be so adorable.

Getting closer to him, you lay your head on his chest. Janavo starts to purr loudly when he notices, and places one of his hands on your hair, gently playing around with the locks. His sharp nails every once in a while scrape your scalp, making you shiver. You really needed this. A sigh comes from you and you reach out to hold his other hand.

“It will all be okay, sweetheart. I’ll stay here for as long as you want, or need.”

His eyes are closed, probably that prowl he went on for you was just as exhausting for him as it was for you as you waited for his arrival. You wouldn’t mind having him sleep with you, despite how big he was. Having him live with you, preferably forever, wouldn’t be something you’d mind either, if it wasn’t in reality your deepest wish...

Excusing yourself for a moment, you get off the bed, switching off the lights to add more to that precious moment. When you return, he had removed his boots and curled up into your bed, almost falling asleep. Poor guy. Throwing yourself by his side, his arms stretch out and grab you, bringing you close to his chest again. Oh, that purr! You could listen to it forever.

“I’m pretty new here...as you may know, I’m not from this land. I’ve left my home planet, Alternia, when I was around 9 sweeps or so. Much younger than I am now. I’ve been sent to fight to dominate other lands in space with brutality. But I just could not do that ordeal. After one or two sweeps...I hijacked a ship and fled to any planet I could stumble upon. That planet was Earth. My ship fell on water and I had to swim my way to the shore. That’s how, over time, I found my home. This huge congregation of woods...where no one can find me. I’ve seen people strolling around that part of town, trying to find my den, thinking I was some sort of cryptid. For years, like you, I’ve felt alone and excluded from all forms of human interaction. I was seen as abominable. Eldritch. Until that night...I felt understood. “

So...he is just like you? A socially isolated hermit with no friends who just wants someone to love and care for? Your heart feels heavy, after he has told you his story his purring stops and his breathing becomes heavier. His irises glow a dim cyan as he turns you around to stare at your face. Small beads of cerulean start forming on his eye and he lets go of you to pull his hood over his eyes. It’s his turn to let those nasty feelings out, you see.

“I’m so sorry if I’m burdening you, little one...You just felt so right to me...Someone that knew how it felt to be left in the dust...to be different...”

Of course not! He’s not burdening you at all. Instead, it feels like the complete opposite. You were the one who kept whimpering for help out of nowhere in the middle of a phone call. But you just couldn’t help it. Neither could he. You try to calm his feelings by giving his horns a light caress. Seems like the less...awkward way to help him out. His hold on the hood loosens, and he makes a sound of relief, lifting his head slightly. Underneath his thick bangs of hair, you could spot his face flushed cobalt, and his blue tears dribbling from his eyes. Under your touch, he seems to relax completely. Does he really trust you that much in such a short period of time?

“Look, Janavo, I could literally not stop thinking about you ever since we met. You are what’s missing from my life. Do you want to help me become one, dear? Come stay with me for as long as time allows?”

His hands pull away the hair from his eyes and he gazes at you with big, melancholic pupils, still watery from his brief crying session. Sobbing quietly, his mouth slowly bares his teeth as he grins. He just looks so cute that way. Like an enormous puppy...or kitten. Kind of a mixture of the two.

A pair of hands come and pull you down, aligning your faces together. They settle on your waist, a gentle cyan glow making the atmosphere romantic and placid together with the still-roaring storm outside. You lay your palm on his chest. There come the purrs again.

“I’d be honoured to do so, doll...with all of my pleasure.”

Your heart explodes and you rub your forehead with Janavo’s. He sticks his tongue out goofily, as if trying to lick your face. You massage his ears a bit, which twitch at the heat from your hand. Those piercings of his seem pretty heavy. His eyes blink slowly as they gaze endearingly at you. A chuckle comes from his mouth, and his warm breath reminds you of how close your lips are to his.

Suddenly...you feel the urge to kiss him. Right when you had that idea flash through your mind, Jan’s hands go up your body to grip your shoulders, and gently pushes his head forwards to press his lips against yours. His lips are soft and warm, and the added texture of his stubble and mustache ends up tickling you a bit, but nothing that disturbs you at a large degree. You can feel him turn his head around a bit to deepen the kiss, purring loudly in your mouth. His sharp fangs poke at the edges of your mouth and nearly draw blood.

Your hands that were previously holding his ears move to hold his jaw, in an attempt to let yourself take some control of the situation. Janavo lets out a breathy moan and manages to slip his tongue into your mouth, and pulls your body closer to his, to the point where you could feel his chest rumble through his hoodie. His tongue is bifid and has a pair of beads on its surface, which you feel clink against your teeth every once in a while as he explores the intricacies of your mouth. It’s his first kiss with a human being, after all. And he was already so damn good at it. At least through your eyes, since you’ve never kissed anyone before. Despite how large and powerful he was, he was strangely gentle.

Ecstasy overtook your senses as he moaned again, eyes closing and darkening the scene, arms wrapping around your torso and running up and down the fabric of your sweater. You decided to join in with your tongue, and you manage to slide yours inside his own mouth. This makes his purrs evolve into trills as your tongues run along each other and cause drool to leak from the corner of his mouth. You’re loving this so much.

After what seemed like almost two hours of heaven, Janavo pulls away and licks his lips from the mess made by you two fooling around. Aw, was it just over like that? Your hands let go of his face as you make a little sad sound. In an attempt to satisfy you some more, he places his mouth on your neck and sinks his fangs into your skin slightly. It comes off as unexpected to you, and you gasp. But it feels so good. You don’t want it to end too soon. He suckles at your neck noisily, making you pant. A decent amount of time of that treatment ends in him pulling away and admiring the nice mark he left, and you would make every effort possible to show it off to people.

The whole lovey-dovey stuff you two engaged in was undoubtedly tiring. You just feel like sleeping at the moment. And, from what you can tell from your friend-turned-lover’s body language, so is he. You sit on your bed and watch him stretch his back and arms while yawning. Holy fuck, those teeth. You really want them sunken into your flesh again any time soon.

The rain outside has calmed down, from a merciless storm to a rather placid drizzle. Pulling up your sheets, you prepare yourself to finally rest after this whole ride. Not before you lift them and allow Janavo to slither underneath and knead the mattress below him. Sluggishly, he got comfy on his spot of the bed and reached his neck out to give your forehead a soft, sweet kiss.

“I think it’s safe to say this now, but...I love you, Jan.”

His tail curls behind you, and he reaches out to pull you into a tight embrace. You bury your face on the crook of his neck, and hear him purr again. It’s obvious how happy he is to be with you, with how much he loves having physical contact and making the whole live-in decision in just one night. Clearly you two are going to be incredibly happy together.

“I love you too, doll, all I have to do is move my stuff tomorrow morning from the forest den to here and we will be all set.”

Your brain still is so boggled while trying to process all of the events this afternoon. That huge monstrous guy you met in the woods once, who you first thought would maul you to pieces? And who turned out to be a huge softie in a tough shell? He’s going to live with you now. And what a better way to celebrate than with having him sleep with you for the first night? And the next one, and the next one, and the next one...creating so many good memories and feelings.

“Sweet dreams, little one.”

It doesn’t take too long for the both of you to drift off into a peaceful night’s sleep, to the calm sounds of each other’s breathing and the soft rain outside.

#fanfiction #janavo x reader

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