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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

AU where the Nie clan has dragon blood in their lineage, and usually it just manifests as bad temper and a generally martial inclination. Except, once in a rare while, generations apart, an actual dragon will be born among them... (aka nobody really expected that NHS was the latest Nie dragon).

The Nie sect’s ancestors were butchers; that lowly heritage is well known and widely celebrated, much to the not-entirely-concealed disdain of some of the more refined, gentlemanly sects. Butchers at home and butchers at war – everyone knows that.

What’s rather less well known is that the third sect leader, colloquially known among his descendants as ‘that idiot’, rather heroically saved an imperial princess in battle and then – and this was why he was that idiot – married her. She was a proper princess, too, the true-born daughter of the emperor; other sects might see that as a good thing, since for all that cultivation sects saw themselves as being above petty things like the politics of the common folk, a princess was still a princess.

The Nie did not.

The reason for this was quite simple. What does a cultivation style that already incorporates an increased chance of death through anger most assuredly does not need?

The blood of the eight-clawed dragon, that’s what.

Arrogant, explosive, unruly –

It was a mess.

The sixth sect leader came up with the saber halls to honor his father and grandfather – most especially his grandfather, who’d had a bad tendency towards slit-pupiled eyes when he’d been especially enraged, and whose saber had absorbed every ounce of his ferocity – and the next few generations made a point of finding especially meek daughters or sons for their children to marry, and that was that; everyone hoped that that idiot’s mistake could be diluted out of existence.

It was, for the most part.

But every few generations, imperial blood ran true, and not only in terms of majesty or arrogance, and then the entire sect had to close its doors to the outside world and pretend with all their might that no, of course there wasn’t a rampaging beast of an especially draconic variety raging behind the extremely sturdy walls of the Unclean Realm, what nonsense that would be.

Still, if Lao Nie had to wager on one of his children being a dragon, he probably would have put money on it being his firstborn: already far too tall for his age, a brilliant prodigy with his saber, and a temper that rivaled some of the older members of the clan.

Certainly not Huaisang.

The only time that child hadn’t been a disappointment was when he was a baby: he’d been remarkably lazy even back then, sleeping more hours of the day than he didn’t even past infancy, and what had been a relief to his nursemaids quickly turned to annoyance by everyone else. It was commonly believed that such a weak and unlively child was likely to grow up to be slow-witted and dull, and, worse, the doctors confirmed his muscle tone was underdeveloped; even with a great deal of practice, he would likely always be a bit behind those his own age.

As he grew older, his penchant of sleeping twenty hours out of every day got even more noticeable, and the family largely lost interest.

Well, most of them. His older brother, who’d quietly taken on the responsibility for caring for Huaisang when no one else in the family had had the time or, truthfully, the interest in the disappointing son of an especially fortunate (unfortunate?) family maid-turned-concubine, indulged him far too much, even carrying him from place to place.

“You’re not a mule, Mingjue,” Lao Nie scolded one day, reinforcing the lesson through swipes of the flat of his saber. “Have some dignity! If Huaisang wants to go places, he can damn well walk there himself!”

Nie Mingjue bowed his head, obedient and filial in every way except for the fact that he didn’t listen; if anything, it got even worse from that point on, the boy barely being seen anywhere without a napping toddler as an accoutrement.

“Did you hear what I said?” Lao Nie roared at him.

“I’m not a mule,” Nie Mingjue recited. “If he wants to go places, he can walk there himself.”

“If you heard me and persisted regardless, you’re undisciplined,” Lao Nie said, arms crossed.

“I accept whatever punishment is appropriate,” Nie Mingjue said, and that was most irritating of all: why would his otherwise perfect eldest son insisted on being beaten once a week when all he had to do was leave that useless lump behind in his rooms, where he’d be happier anyway? It wasn’t as though Nie Huaisang even wanted to be outside: sometimes it seemed he’d only learned to talk in order to complain about how uncomfortable he was, how hot, how sweaty – and he even had the gall to keep complaining even after his older brother fetched a fan for him, like a loyal dog.

Discipline was paramount in the Nie sect; to be undisciplined is to risk being monstrous, and with their cultivation style they could not tolerate such a thing. That was why their punishments were so strict, even if the rules were relatively sparse - more principle than rule, really. But on the other hand, their family had always been the sort that would rather break than bend: if Nie Mingjue wanted to pay for his willfulness by accepting punishments, he was entitled to do so.

Still – there was punishment, and there was wanton cruelty; at some point, one of the men in the punishment hall abandoned the former for the latter. He was a popular man, the son of another sect’s diplomat that had married a close cousin of the main family and stayed in Qinghe; for some reason he’d developed an intense dislike of Nie Mingjue – a dislike which was mutual, and likely to cause trouble in the future when Nie MIngjue became Sect Leader, but which currently put Nie MIngjue in a very bad position given the man’s status as his elder.

Lao Nie only learned about the whole matter much later, and when he did he was so spitting mad he grabbed his saber and would have spitted the man on it, cousin or no cousin, if he hadn’t been held back; but at the time he had no idea, busy as he was defending the borders of his lands against troubles caused by that ever-smiling bastard Wen Ruohan.

When he did hear about it, though, he was infuriated: his son and heir had been beaten three times the usual amount, a compilation of a thousand little offenses that could only technically be termed breaches of discipline, forced to complete several dozen of their most demanding exercises, and then made to kneel outside on the hottest day of the year; to no one’s surprise, he had eventually collapsed rather than yield and beg for mercy, his skin cracking and lips starting to bleed as his consciousness left him.

He was after all a Nie.

Who knows how far that bastard might have gone, his eyes fixed on a prize he would never inherit with his outsider’s surname, if Nie Huaisang hadn’t been there, tucked away curled up underneath a shady tree and made to watch despite Nie Mingjue’s request that he be sent back to his rooms.

Those who were near enough to see – and Lao Nie had plans to punish the whole lot of them for not having interfered: what was the point of a clan motto that prioritized justice and suppression of evil no matter what the consequences if they would allow it to happen in their own damn home? – said that it didn’t happen at once, that there was a pause when Nie Mingjue’s body hit the ground; perhaps it was only that Nie Huaisang was slow to realized what was happening.

Perhaps it just took a while for the change to happen.

Either way, everyone agreed on what happened next: the unfurling of a serpentine body twice the length of a fully grown man, although only about as wide around as a goat, a red-eyed glare that was backed with teeth and claw, and a roar of challenge at anyone who even thought about pulling Nie Mingjue’s body away from the center of those coils.

Apparently Nie Huaisang had needed all that sleep because he was still growing. Who would have known?

It was the youngest full transformation they’d ever had in their clan by far. The boy hadn’t even reached the age of three!

“If he’s stopped sweating, he has heatstroke,” Lao Nie told his apparently not useless younger son, having been urgently summoned to the training field. “He needs to be taken inside at once; you’re only making things worse.”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth at him, and Lao Nie bared his teeth right back.

He might not be a dragon, but his son’s blood had come from somewhere.

“I am your father,” he snarled. “You will listen to me and obey. You hear me? You will get off of him this instant. If he doesn’t get water soon, he will die.”

Lao Nie will never know if it was the demand for filial piety or the threat to Nie Mingjue’s life that got Nie Huaisang to comply – he suspected the latter – but Nie Huaisang gave in and backed off, allowing the clan’s medics to rush over and take Nie Mingjue away.

Lao Nie looked at the dragon, thinking to himself that the vastness of the underground caverns beneath the Unclean Realm weren’t for nothing: if this was what a two-year-old dragon looked like, he’d be a full-fledged calamity when full grown.

His saber itched in his palm at the thought, but he ignored it. The embarrassing yao-derived portion of their bloodline aside, the Nie sect set itself against evil, and Nie Huaisang was lazy, not evil.

“This is going to be trouble,” he finally said. “It can’t be allowed to get out.”

You can’t go out, he meant, but maybe Nie Huaisang in all his laziness wouldn’t mind being restricted to the Unclean Realm. Maybe, if they were lucky, they could teach him to like paintings and books instead, since he could never be allowed out to join a proper battlefield.

He’d be locked at home forever, unless the Sect Leader decided otherwise - and that meant Lao Nie would be the one responsible for it.

Ancestor or not, damn that idiot.

In the end, Nie Huaisang didn’t respond to him at all, merely took to the air – flying must be inherent, since he didn’t seem especially bothered by what should be something brand new – and headed inwards, aiming towards…

His brother’s bedroom.

Not really a surprise, that.

A bit of a surprise that he could find it so quickly, though, from such an unfamiliar angle…

Lao Nie’s eye twitched.

If his stubborn older son had known about this, he was going to wish he’d died of heatstroke.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #dragons #oneiriad #not my usual backstory for the Nie sect #but hey #gotta have those dragons #dragon nhs

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flowerwrites06 · 4 years

Text

diamond trail II — myg

Plot: The theft of his most elusive and mystery possession leads to a web of trickery that threatens every large syndicate in the country. (alternative: Yoongis’ prized possession is stolen but he’s not the only gang leader being betrayed)

Pairing(s): Mafia Boss!Yoongi x Consigliere!Y/N

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 3k+

Genre: Mafia | Marriage | Mature Themes/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: criminal activities, mentions of past abuse (outside of the pair), explicit smut (spanking and very brief anal play), mild violence, coarse language, prostitution.

Authors Note: the planning got a little wack but i think i’ve got it down now. hope you enjoy this part and make sure a like/reblog/comment go a long way!

Morning turned dull and dreary as the cloud hung heavy in the sky. The driveway darkened from and the grass shimmered from the thunderstorms last night but the weather didn’t relent in its greyness. You wore a deep emerald sweater dress, black coat and warm hat while the guards prepared your car.

Yoongi stayed quiet throughout the entire ride, hand still holding yours. Except his mind wandered to mentally prepare himself. Gang leaders don’t always agree to meetings nor do they end up well for anyone. You were the glue that held them together at this point.

Consiglieres’ normally always have good connections but your web was unbeatable. The amount of time you were able to keep Yoongis’ business on the down low and manage to keep it running in the same line. It was one of the reasons he fell in love. The aura of magnetism around you that attracted so many to trust you. Aside from your looks, the way you spoke and held yourself was something any experienced gang leader would be careful not to test.

Their meeting was in a neutral zone. In the private basement of Petunia Valley, a small florist shop situated near the outskirts of the city. Namjoons’ car already arrived to the scene. Daisy, the owner, had some trouble with gang members in the past. She came to you for some aid and you suggested that making a front for Gae Pa would put Daisy under their protection. Making it an act of war or treason if gang members attacked her.

She’d been safe ever since which gladdened your heart.

As you and Yoongi entered the flower shop, Daisy gave you the biggest smile. “Ma’am! It’s good to see you.” She bowed.

“Everything’s ready for the meeting.” You nodded towards the stairs.

“Yes, ma’am.” She nodded enthusiastically. “The tall man with the shades came in. I’ve given them some jasmine tea to calm themselves since he looked antsy. No funny business or fights though.”

You smiled and patted her shoulder. She looked so much happier than the crying girl with bruises littered on her face three years ago. “You’re looking well.”

Her pale cheeks flushed in pink. “All thanks to you, ma’am.”

Another car pulled up at the entrance.

“Let’s get this over with, sweetheart.” Yoongi gently rubbed your arm. He gave an extremely brief smile to Daisy before guiding you down the stairs.

Thankfully the basement had a faint floral scent to it with that tiny hint of fertilizer than you both hoped wouldn’t get too pungent as the hour passed. Namjoon sat at the wooden table, tattooed hand clasping the adorable pink floral cup with a clear grimace on his face. Clearly that jade bracelet messed with his head as much as the diamond gun did Yoongi.

The shades were probably to hide hangover or lack of sleep. Or both.

You sat at the head of the table being the meeting coordinator. One of Namjoons’ bodyguards poured you a cup of tea by his boss’ request. “Thank you.” You smiled.

“I’ll have some too,” Yoongi said.

“Get your own fucking tea.” Namjoon narrowed his gaze.

“Gentlemen.” You warned, spreading silence between the two leaders. Taking the teapot, you poured a cup for Yoongi and gently placed it in front of him.

Jimin walked down with three bodyguards crowded around him. He sat on the far end of the table, purposely ignoring both Yoongi and Namjoons’ presence. Being the only leader without a sigil or history, he must’ve been trying to keep an air of intimidation up. “Let’s get this over with.” He straightened out his coat.

“Ass without a sigil thinks he can scare us, Min.” Namjoon scoffed. “You believe that?”

“No I don’t, Kim.”

You sighed in slight exasperation. “I’ve called you three here because our reputations are being toyed with. By an elusive thief who is trying to create tension between the gangs.”

“Would you really consider that ones’ business as a gang?” Namjoon tilted his head to Jimin.

“I work and have significant influence and following in the underworld. So yes, it counts as a gang.”

“I was asking the real gang consigliere, kid.” Namjoon smiled bitterly.

“Namjoon…he’s right.” You explained to the best of your thinning patience.

“You might have to explain things to him a little slower, my lady.” Jimin smirked. “He tends to focus more on the curves of your breasts than anything you say.”

“Little brat wants to die today,” Yoongi seethed, teeth grinding.

Jimin scoffed, plump lips curling upwards. “This is a neutral zone. You can’t kill me unless you risk this entire flower shop getting burned down.”

“I’ll decide what happens to this shop and the ones who harm it, Mr. Park.” Your gaze sharpened on the man. “I’m sure your wife and kids wouldn’t appreciate having their vacation stopped short because you wouldn’t play nicely in a meeting.” All Jimins’ bodyguards standing ready to fight and the man himself holding a clipped tongue, lost for words. “Bora Bora, is it? Lovely place.”

Jimin bit down the insides of his cheeks, chest rising and falling as frustration twisted his usually pretty features. He raised his chin to maintain his pride. “Continue.”

Yoongi tried to hide the impressed smirk that desperately tried to tug at his lips.

“Thank you.” You tapped the side of your cup. “I don’t have enough information to pinpoint a culprit yet but it is definitely someone notorious to like chaos in the country. Our best lead could be to suspect Jwi Pa but it’s too obvious.”

“Don Byeol doesn’t really share her grandfathers’ viewpoints anymore,” Namjoon said. “If we had another Sapphire Assassin scandal on our hands, we’d probably all be dead by now. This thief wants us to die by killing each other by your theory.”

“Is it really for power if it’s so indirect?” Yoongi asked. “The way this guy’s working is like he just wants the chaos for sport.”

“Why don’t we just settle our differences now?” Jimin asked.

“‘cause you’re refusing to give me my sisters’ bracelet, dumbass.”

“I bought it fair and square.”

“There is a way I can get more information. During a charity event, I heard that a street gang leader rose up to the ranks by killing the Don of Mal Pa. A sort of revolution since the previous Don was getting a little too obsessed with creating piles than actual influence,” you said.

Mal Pa hadn’t been too popular ever since Don Chun Hei passed away. She didn’t have a lot of children so the leadership moved to underbosses and then associates. The meaningfulness of the gangs’ importance subdued and eventually became obsolete. However, the gang was still alive and apparently running under unknown leadership. It was a good place to start.

Except you would have to dig deeper if you were looking into a mystery gang like this. You’d have to visit him.

“I know an information broker who might be able to gain a lot of information of Mal Pa and the thievery itself.”

Yoongi didn’t need too long before his expression softened in realization. “Absolutely not.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Namjoon asked.

“He asks for information as his currency. Keeps his connections strong so you can only work with him a few times in dire circumstances.” The last time you had to gain information on the large robbery in Gae Pa and had to tell him that your father and brother were still alive in Singapore. “He can help me track down the thief. He might even be able to name him exactly.”

Yoongi curled his fingers into tight fists. Kim Seokjin. Always asking for the right things to keep up his popularity and wealth. Information can get you anywhere from the top of the most expensive building to the bottom most slums of the city. The country ran on it and Seokjin was one of the monarchs who owned it. “Is this the only way?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Even Namjoon and Jimin stayed quiet, unable to really comment on the matter. The only person at risk in this situation would be you. You knew all kinds of information but there were different promises and deals made in terms of spreading news on people and networks in the underworld.

Yoongi stared at you in silence. A mixed look of concern and anger twisting his features. Just let it this be over.

***

Seokjin knew what he was doing when he made the deal. Best way to gain power without being seen is to take advantage of the one with the most connections. You were the top tier.

Another storm poured down into the city the same night as you travelled to Seokjins’ favorite restaurant. Road glistened like polished obsidian, reflecting the pink neon of the entrance sign. You drove in alone but measures were taken to ensure your utmost safety in the matter. With a deep breath, you walked through the restaurant with an air of confidence.

Seokjin sat at the booth, tapping the side of his sherry glass. When he noticed you arrive, a wide grin tugged from ear to ear. “Darling!”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the nickname. The tall male reached in and kissed both her cheeks softly before relaxing back onto the black booth.

“I haven’t heard from you since that massive robbery. Have you been purposely avoiding me?” Pillowy lips jutted into a pout.

“I have to keep my peoples’ funds in check. You tend to ask for a high price even in casual visits.”

Seokjin chuckled, the warm lights casting an eerie shadow on his eyes. Black orbs of a demon. “I’m a bit of a workaholic.” He shrugged. “So what did you need tonight on such short notice?”

You waved your hand for a drink. “Someone is trying to create havoc with two gang leaders and a restaurant chain owner.”

“Ah yes, the robbed auction. The underground newsletters were brimming.” Seokjin failed to hide the excitement flooding through his veins as his face turned smug. “So much anger. Two dreadful murders already.” He looked at his nails with a forced saddened expression. “So gory, your people.”

“Well—” Your eyes flickered up to the waitress who gave you a cup of earl grey tea.

“On the house, ma’am.” The waitress grinned before turning on her heel.

“So terribly famous.” Seokjin smirked.

“My suspicions are on Mal Pa. I had a theory since the leader used to be in a street gang. There’s a lot of whispers that they have some kind of vendetta to all gangs. It’s a good place to start without getting traced.” You didn’t want to voice those rumors to Yoongi or Namjoon since it had no basis yet. But with the way Seokjin smiled at you knowingly, you knew that was a lead.

Thunder struck, silver bolt flickering against the blackened sky. You used the warmth of the tea to bring you some comfort even though all you really wanted was to snuggle up in bed for night. “You know something, yes?”

“So long as you understand the natures of this transaction.”

Anxiety crept at the back of your mind, like thorn vines climbing up an aged building. More thunder boomed across the skies almost making you jump. You blinked slowly and breathed deep. “I do.”

“Good,” Seokjin said. Long fingers intertwined, business stance with a ready breath. “Jeon Jungkook.”

“Jeon Jungkook?” You shook your head.

“That’s the current leader of Mal Pa. A former street goon who was apparently asking for the previous gang leaders’ aid. They refused so Jeon took it upon himself for justice. Got a bunch of people and trashed the entire place. Killed the Don along with it.” Seokjin traced the brim of his glass. “If anyone has an agenda against the Dons of this country, it’s him.”

“How do I get in contact with him?”

Seokjin laughed like you spoke the funniest joke in the world. “Sweetheart, even if you offered your body and soul to the man, he wouldn’t talk to you. He hates the higher ups.”

“I wasn’t always a higher up.” Your origins started in the streets just like Jungkook. The smell of garbage and cheap perfume lingering in the air. Hiding in the closet with earbuds while mother worked. Taking over the family business and expanding your horizon with nothing but the clothes on you back and sweat on your skin. “Is there a way I can get through to him?”

Seokjin sighed. “For a man with a supposed higher purpose, he visits this courtesan house quite regularly.” He grabbed a napkin and wrote down the name of the establishment. “If you meet him there while he’s high on opium then you might be able to gain some information.”

“Nectar Oak.” Your heart jumped up to your throat. How long had it been since you saw or heard that name before? The feeling of their silk uniform still lingered on your skin.

“I understand this is no strange place to you,” Seokjin spoke.

You swallowed the small lump in your throat. “A thing of the past.” You buried the napkin into your purse. “What’re your terms?”

“I’ve asked this of you before. Information on a gang leader requires a hefty price. You can’t delay me any longer since we found out about your father and brothers’ hideout.” That same sinister smirk tugged at his lips. “What were the true terms of your marriage with Don Min Yoongi?”

A cold flood washed over your form, welcoming unwanted twists and lurches in your stomach from the time years ago. Time when things weren’t as warm as they are now. You kept a steady face, the corner of your lips twitching just the slightest. “I was a worker at the courtesan house,” you spoke softly. “Before they pay you for customers, they train you with different workers in the house. My first real customer was Yoongi. He was very kind but distant.”

You took a deep breath. “One night he came in and he said that he was going to reserve me. I didn’t know customers could truly do that. It meant he paid for everything and I got to spend time outside of the house. Working in a place like that, you tend to gain many connections and information very easily. It allowed me to earn a place in Yoongis’ radar. He’d come to me for information and personal activities.”

Seokjin took a tiny sip of his sherry, eyes fixated on you like the excitement would stop if he blinked.

Sadness loomed over your face. “I got pregnant. I told him as soon as he arrived to the house.” You sucked in your bottom lip. “He looked so happy…but—then he never came back again. For seven months, I never saw him. I already prepared to have the baby on my own until one morning, he came back. I learned that Gae Pa was going through a power struggle. When Min Areum murdered the Don, there was chaos. Questions on whether Yoongi deserved to have power—but then my pregnancy created all the more chaos.”

“He came to me and told me that he needed help.” You smiled a little to yourself. “He knew I had people I could talk to help with the associates trying to harass Yoongi. But I had to be part of the family. So he married me. We signed a legal agreement and I took down all the associates who dared to threaten Gae Pas’ true heir.”

“So the most popular couple in the underworld—” Seokjin rested back on the booth. “—is a marriage run on business and convenience. Not love.”

“I didn’t say there wasn’t any love.”

Seokjin hummed with a slight smile. “I’m sure there is.”

You suppressed the need to roll your eyes as you stood up from the booth. “Pleasure doing business with you, Kim.”

“Be sure to give Yoongi my love!”

***

“No, no, no. Absolutely fucking not. Not a chance.” Yoongi kept blabbering as the news finally reached the room. He curled up the sleeves of his white shirt, roughly raking through his hair. He turned and took a deep breath. Trying to protest more before turning away again in light stammers. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“You’re not killing anyone.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

The maids were ordered to work on the bedroom quarters while the living room reserved for their little argument. Yoongi clasped onto his hips, shaking his head. “We’re risking too much, baby. I don’t think it’s worth it. Even my mother would slap me in the head if she saw this.”

“It’s not just about the gun anymore.” You padded closer to him, rubbing his arm. “There’s a high chance he’s gonna try something else. Something worse than a robbery. It’s already happening, there’s been two murders. We can’t wait for that to happen to us.”

Yoongi let out a deep sigh, nerves still aching from the tightness but at least information was registering in his head again. You were right. Jungkook could have Namjoon or Jimin assassinated in an instant. The underworld will be able to trace Gae Pa down immediately. Right now, he was playing but it could very well get serious and bite them back in the ass for ignoring it. “I just hate that you have to go back there again. Wearing those same clothes.” He swallowed down thickly. “You’ve done so much to get me out of problems and now it’s almost back to square one.”

You reached in and kissed the back of his neck. “It’s not gonna be like last time. We’re stronger now. And this is my home as much as it is yours.”

“I know—”

“So I’m going to protect it no matter what. Okay?” You moved so you stood in front him, nose nudging against his. “We’ll protect it together.”

Yoongi smiled, cupping your cheeks and kissing you on the forehead. “What did you ask you for?” A part of him didn’t wish to know. The fear of personal information in the slimy hands of that weasel made his insides lurch but he knew the weight would lifted off of you.

“Our terms of marriage.” You smiled sadly. “How it actually happened.”

“Did he ask about the baby?”

“Actually no—he seemed pretty satisfied with the story itself.” Or Seokjin figured on what might’ve happened if their child wasn’t public nor were there any rumors of a Gae Pa heir.

“We’re not talking to him ever again.”

“So long as we don’t get into trouble.” You chuckled under your breath. Even entertaining the idea of a trouble free life was too idealistic.

“Then we’re never getting rid of him.” Yoongi sighed.

Fear still lingered, twisting his stomach in knots at the events to come but his mind knew better. You were both stronger than the time Yoongi was taking the chair as Don. This was a small bump in the road. Nothing more.

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#yoongi #thebtswritersclub #yoongi imagines #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi angst #bts angst #yoongi mafia au #bts mafia au

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destiniesfic · 4 years

Photo

Folktober 05 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels. In which Jude was never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk—mostly—until the night they tried to steal her twin sister away.

First | Prev

The door is the first test. It is difficult not to stare at every new thing I see. There are lamps on either side of the polished wood doors, and at first I think they’re just regular lights, but of course nothing here is that simple; the light comes from two tiny glowing faeries, trapped behind glass. I am immediately filled with questions. Did they volunteer for the job? Is this a punishment for some unknown crime? Do they eat, and if so, who feeds them? Do they live forever, miserable in their prison, or do they eventually burn themselves out?

But I am meant to be glamoured and not ask questions, so I don’t, even though I want to pound my hands against the glass until they bleed and the tiny faeries are freed. I keep my eyes straight ahead and hardly even flinch when I notice the grotesque carving on the door. It looks horrible, a twisted and terrible face, the knocker piercing its nose.

Cardan acts as if this is all totally normal, because of course to him it is, because he lives here and none of this is new to him. Without any hesitation, he reaches for the door knocker. And as he does, the carving’s eyes spring open.

To keep from screaming, I bite my lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. My entire body goes taut, a coiled spring waiting for release. I force myself to breathe in through my nose.

“My prince,” says the carving.

Cardan smiles at the door in a way I am not even sure he smiled at his friends. “My door.”

I am relieved when the next words from the door’s awful mouth are “Welcome home” and it swings open to admit us. Cardan stalks inside, and I follow.

There is a faerie servant waiting for us, wearing some kind of livery. “Prince Cardan,” they say, with a small bow. “Your brother would like to speak with you.”

“A pity for him,” Cardan replies, handing his cloak to another servant. No one offers to take the jacket I am wearing. “I would like that less.”

“I am afraid it was not a request,” the first servant says. “He wishes to speak with you and the mortal girl you have brought back with you.”

Cardan glances back at me, a frown turning down the corners of his full mouth. “Very well, although I cannot imagine why. Come, Jude.”

I bristle at the command, but I follow after him; it’s what the glamoured girl I’m supposed to be would do. I force a little smile on my lips and trot after him. “What’s going on?” I whisper through it.

“I know not.” The frown deepens. “And I like that even less. Stay close to me and face front, no matter what you see. And under no circumstances may you antagonize Balekin as you do me. Am I understood?”

I want to tell him that if he thinks my meager resistance so far has been antagonism, he doesn’t really know anything about hardship, but there’s an urgency to his voice, maybe something like nerves or fear, that makes me think he’s being serious.

“Totally,” I say, and then I fall back a little so that I trail him.

Soon I see why he warned me to stare straight ahead. As we walk through the hallway, I see another human for the first time, a young man dressed in the same palace livery. At first I want to call out to him, to scream, to tell him I’ve been taken and he has too and we should both run away from this place, but I notice the glazed look in his eyes, and, as we approach, his cracked fingers and chapped lips. He hums to himself as he polishes an old suit of armor on display, and doesn’t seem to notice as we pass.

I shudder. Cardan may have kidnapped me, true. He and his friends might have intended to do terrible things to my sister, and he may still intend to do terrible things to me. But at least I have been spared that fate, the loss of my all my faculties, of any control.

I’m not relieved for long, because Hollow Hall still has horrors in store for me. Soon we come to another set of gleaming doors, through which I can hear the sounds of chatter and the faint thrumming of music. The doors are thrown open for us by another pair of servants, and then we are in the middle of the great hall.

There is what is clearly a party happening. Well, I assume it’s a party, what parties are in fairyland. It looks like the kind of scene HBO would get in trouble for when casting a bunch of nude extras. I mean, by human standards, it would definitely be considered an orgy, but I am beginning to think that human and faerie standards are very different.

And that’s not to say all of the Folk are embracing. Some are eating golden fruit. Some are drinking wine and mead from great goblets, like the ones Cardan brought for his picnic jaunt into my world. Others seem to be falling asleep. Two might be strangling each other to the amusement of onlookers. There is a small band on the other side of the room that includes a green-skinned pixie playing a flute and a boy with goat legs playing an honest-to-god lute. And, yes, there are faeries in varying states of undress, on couches near the perimeter of the room or cushions on the floor, and some are definitely, um, occupied. They are clearly inhuman, but their bodies are human enough that I find myself blushing, out of embarrassment or mortification I don’t know.

But Cardan said I couldn’t stare, so I do my best not to. I face front and think about the places I would rather be. Which is pretty much anywhere. I imagine myself at the Starbucks downtown, sipping pumpkin spice lattes with Taryn, or bingeing She-Ra on Netflix with Vivi, like we had the last week of the summer. Then I think about how my parents will panic when they realize I’m not there in the morning—probably just a couple of hours from now—and I nearly feel sick to my stomach.

“Jude,” Cardan hisses through his teeth. “With me.”

I don’t nod. I just follow him as we chart a path through the revelers, managing to hold it together. A naked girl with daffodil-yellow skin and pink flowers for hair laughs and calls to him, trying to coax him into joining her circle, but he ignores her. I guess being a prince makes you popular.

Our destination is on the far side of the room, unfortunately, which means I have to do a lot more repression to make it there in one piece. For example, I can’t think about how a sharp-toothed faerie seems to be using a tiny bone to pick his teeth, or how another revel guest’s lips shine red like they’re wet with blood. At least I can easily pick out where we’re going and focus on that as I keep from tripping over any outstretched limbs.

Another faerie, one who looks much like Cardan with dark hair and high cheekbones, reclines in a wooden chair carved to look much like a throne, up on a dais. He is in conversation with a very lovely woman in a blue gown, but when she sees us approaching she kisses his ring and leaves. I almost want to tell her to come back, to not leave us with the host of this debauched fete. But there’s nothing to say. I’ll have no help here.

Cardan climbs the dais seps and stops before the chair, inclining his head with deference that seems a little mocking. Without being told, I know that this is Balekin, whom Cardan said was the eldest of the princes.

Brother,” Balekin says, and even I, an outsider, can sense the danger under the familial cheer. “How was your jaunt to the mortal world?”

“Tiresome,” Cardan says, stifling a yawn as he raises his head.

“I was told you brought a companion back with you.”

“Word travels fast.”

Balekin waits for him to say something else, and frowns when he doesn’t. I, meanwhile, am thinking of how I felt like we were being watched as we rode through the forest. Maybe we were. Or maybe the goblins who’d paddled the boat were spies. Nothing here was safe.

“Well, won’t you call her hence so I may examine her?” Balekin asks at last.

“Oh, indeed,” says Cardan, who clearly isn’t happy to have been called out for this. Still, he waves for me, and I take a step forward. “This mortal girl interfered with our fun. She was unhappy that Locke wanted to play with her twin sister.”

“Twins?” Balekin sounds intrigued. He sits forward. I’m learning that twins are probably rare among faeries if Taryn and I are so consistently interesting. “Why not keep them both?”

Cardan shrugs. “It was better sport to promise the freedom of one sister and then take the other. This one was so angry when she found her twin glamoured, and now she suffers that fate.”

I’m angry still, I want to shout. I’m angry now! I want to stomp my foot. I want to haul off and punch him. But I stay where I am, trying to keep the placid smile fixed on my face. I’d thought Cardan and his friends terrifying and wrong, but now that I am face-to-face with an adult faerie, I realize that Cardan can’t be much older than me—or whatever the faerie equivalent is. Maybe he’s ninety and just looks nineteen. But Balekin is clearly grown, less lanky than Cardan, more dangerous. He is looking at me in a way I don’t like.

“Come closer, child,” he says to me, and he almost sounds kind. I try not to hesitate as I approach his chair. When I am near enough, he reaches out and takes my face in his hand. There are thorns poking out of his skin, sharp enough to prick me. I stay very, very still and try to breathe normally.

“She’s not unpretty, is she?” he asks Cardan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan shift uneasily. “If mortals are your flavor.”

Balekin frowns, turning my face from one side to the other. “She has a familiar look. What is your name, girl?”

“Jude,” I say obediently.

“Your surname.”

“Smith,” I lie. It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Telling a faerie prince my actual full name seems like a really bad idea.

Balekin’s eyes narrow, but he releases me. My jaw tingles. He swirls the wine in his goblet the way sophisticated people do in movies, and then he leans back in his chair. “So, brother. Now you have a mortal girl. What will you do with her?”

“I have not yet decided,” Cardan replies, sounding thoughtful. “I would rather not put her to work in the kitchens or the hall. Mortals are so fragile, with such clumsy fingers. It amuses me to think of her carrying my schoolbooks, serving my wine, and sleeping at the foot of my bed like a faithful hound.”

“Trite amusements,” says Balekin, but I notice that he doesn’t seem displeased with his younger brother. “If you misplace this one it is of no consequence to me. Do as you will.”

Cardan inclines his head in a mock bow, then says again, “Come, Jude.”

Like the faithful hound, I follow at his heels. Unlike the faithful hound, I chafe doing so. But I can’t see another way out just now, so I will play this game until the end. Whatever that is.

---

Tag list: @lilithsaur @highqueenofelfhame @charrise @emeralddaydream13 @b00kworm @amandlas @gellavonhamster @ireallyshouldsleeprn @misskillerdarkness @nahthanks @lohep @awkward-avocado-s @alittledribbledrabble @kittkatandbooboo @harrymoncheri @gxndrya

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#jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #folktober 2020 #jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #mine: fic #fic: folktober #how long does october last? let's find out

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awhiskeyriver · 4 years

Text

le cirque monstre

This is the prologue to an old but newly updated story I idea I’ve had for years, sort of forgot about and recently remembered and became interested in again. I honestly don’t know when I will transfer this over to ao3 (probably at least the prologue, soon) or when I will add more. My inspiration for things is very fleeting right now, but I wanted to get your thoughts here in tumblrland on whether or not I should bother continuing!

Unedited and some things might end up changing in the future, but enjoy!

+++

Prologue: 1918, Coney Island

She used to think the cotton-spun candy that tasted like melted sugar was just like a dream; too good to be true. She was younger then, and everything about life was shiny and vibrant. Her nose crinkled with distaste as her boney knee stuck to the floor of the bleachers. Not anymore, though. Now, the popular fair treats were only a nuisance, making her job of cleaning between shows all the more difficult.

“Applesauce,” she muttered, twisting to sit on her butt as she peeled a piece of gum from her skin.

“What are you complaining about now, Katniss?” Gale asked, poking up from the row behind her with a devilish grin. Katniss rolled her eyes when he reached out to poke her nose, wondering how someone three years older than her could still be so immature. Gale and her had been best friends since the time she was small, bonded through unfortunate circumstances of life.

“I’m tired of cleaning these seats,” she pouted, sweating and absolutely exhausted. It had been their fourth show of the day, with five more to get through before calling it an evening. Katniss felt the sharp pangs of hunger vibrate through her stomach and moaned.

“If you quit being such a dewdropper this could’ve been done by now and we’d be off eating lu—“ he cut off, ears perking at the sound of distant voices growing closer. Katniss turned to face Gale before he pushed the top of her head in signal to crouch, doing the same for himself.

Female voices billowed through the auditorium, followed by that of her father, whose voice was authoritative and all business. He cleared his throat loudly a couple of times before joining in their quiet laughter with a hardy one of his own that reverberated off the bleachers. Katniss shrunk further into the ground with the sound. Father had always been a vocal man. Vocal when he was happy, even more so when he was angry. He talked, and Katniss listened. Katniss was always listening.

“The children all loved the performance today.”

“Simply loved it!” another high-pitched voice agreed. Katniss twisted her head uncomfortably in hopes of seeing beneath the bleachers and caught sight of two women dressed in long black robes with matching white-lined headdresses.

Nuns from the orphanage.

Gale had sold them tickets earlier before the last showing, and Katniss had hoped she would’ve finished her chores in time to see the children. Because despite living within her father’s circus (what he advertised to be the happiest place in America) there was a surprisingly low number of people who were willing to keep her boredom occupied.

“Children, what must you say now to Mr. Snow?” A chorus of cheerful thank you’s sounded, and underfed children whose clothing didn’t exactly fit wore bright grins. Perhaps the advertising hadn’t been entirely false. They all sure seemed to think so.

The children lined up behind the tallest sister like toy soldiers, marching towards the opening flap of the tent. All, except for one.

“Not you, young man.”

Katniss had practically turned herself upside down in effort to keep the woman in her line of sight, and caught the faintest glimpse of the child. He wasn’t facing her, but his hair was ash-blonde and unattended. Although he wore the same uniform as the other boys, it was sloppy with his shirt un-tucked and it’s color slightly off-white.

“You are not going anywhere,” she spoke dismissively as the other sister came to stand beside her.

“…But, have I done something wrong?”

His voice surprised her. Strong for a child, despite the same unavoidable squeakiness Gale experienced sometimes, being almost fourteen.

“Part of becoming a man,” he’d said proudly when her and her baby sister Prim giggled. “It’s called puberty.”

“Puber-what?” Prim asked, nose wrinkled.

“Awe, forget it.”

“Peeta...” The one reached out, as if to touch him but recoiled before her hand could land on his shoulder, and drew back. “Our home has no place for you, anymore. There is nothing we can do for you.”

He remained quiet as the softer one peered up at her stone-faced sister, who only nodded with agreement.

“You belong here. There is simply nowhere else for you to go.”

“There is not a soul in New York who cares to take in a crippled boy.”

Father took a step in closer to the nuns, who stood a fair distance from the wilting boy. Katniss watched on, her heart beating explosively inside of her chest in a way that made her breaths almost ragged. She’d witnessed cruelty tenfold and was not blind to its existence. But the reality of what the young man was crashed down on her heavily, and she realized perhaps they were not being heartless afterall.

The boy was grotesque. Evidence of the fact made clear as he turned on a crutch made of wood and exposed his profile. It took a hand covering her mouth to keep from making any audible sound.

So, they were simply right, then. There wasn’t a soul in New York, or most likely any state, that would willingly take him into their care. Nobody but a circus.

He resisted as her father’s thick hand clutched his arm, but surprisingly enough did not scream. He did not say a single word as he finally spun around fully into Katniss’s view. Watching with a mixture of fear and dread as the two nuns who had escorted him in left without him.

+++

“Quit trying to bug him, Kat,” Gale snapped, catching her arm outside of the tent where all of the circus freaks were busy preparing for their shows.

Three weeks had passed since the boy joined her father’s circus, parading around with clowns on stilts and the small people that waddled around in shoes five times too big and circular red noses. Three weeks and any time she tried to catch a glimpse of him outside of the show, Gale caught her.

“Aren’t you at all curious?” she huffed, twisting out of his embrace with a thoughtful rub to her elbow. “Haymitch says he is only thirteen. The youngest carnie we’ve ever had.”

“Then going in there will only make him feel like more of a freak,” he scolded and Katniss wilted, realizing the truth to his words. They both jumped as father’s booming voice sounded from a distance, calling Gale’s name.

“I need to go start selling tickets,” he sighed, turning to leave with suspicion in his eye. “Promise me, Kat.”

“…Oh, alright.”

“Promise me.”

Katniss sighed, smoothing out the fluffy material of her dress as something to keep her hands busy. “Yes Gale, I promise to stay out of trouble. Now go, or you’ll have to answer to the whip.”

He left and Katniss paced the length of the carnie tent. There was music playing inside, the soft blare of a saxophone and some sticks against metal pots. Katniss enjoyed spending time with the performers when allowed. Chaff, the deep-skinned muscle man that could lift four hundred pounds despite missing a hand, made her laugh. And Haymitch, a magician, let her play with some of his props when he was drunk enough.

So, really, her going inside of the tent wasn’t completely for the new boy. She had been keeping her fingers crossed during the promise to Gale, anyways.

Katniss glanced around the abandoned backlot, where dark puddles of mud created divots in the green grass she was forced to hop over to keep her shoes clean. Then, she slipped past the thin curtain, which closed off the strange world of fantasy from harsh reality.

Katniss went unnoticed, weaving her way through lounging performers and billowing clouds of smoke. It was always louder in the back tents – deep laughter and saxophone practices, occasional drunken arguments and the escaped moans from two closer carnies. She winced when the volume grew unexpectedly, and bowed her head as if to provide a thin veil of privacy to a group of outlandish people who didn’t know the meaning of it.

She waved at Haymitch, who only raised up his eyebrows in her direction before blowing up a shining red balloon and twisting it with his skilled hands. The other clowns seemed to be hanging close by; some sleeping, others smoking. The new boy most likely wasn’t far. She bit the inside of her cheek, silently debating with herself whether or not to ask of his whereabouts before she caught a glimpse of something that captured her attention.

There it is again, she thought, following the thin trail of light that bounced off the draped edge of the tent, which was otherwise dark. She bent over in half, silently pushing past it with curiosity in her expression. The corners of her mouth lifted when she saw him, sitting perched on the clear opposite end near one of the long poles, which held the tent in place. With a thin, melting candle for light, he kept a novel perched in his one bent knee, his eyes scrolling the pages like a typewriter.

“Hello,” she offered, jumping in surprise when the boy dropped the book and shot up on one wobbly leg.

“Oh…” she bit the corner of her bottom lip to keep from giggling at his startled expression. His overgrown hair fell haphazardly into his eyes despite his best efforts to push it back.

“Did I scare you?” She asked, reaching out to hand him his cane. He didn’t reply, but accepted the crutch quickly before bending over for the book, which he tucked behind his back away from her view.

“It’s alright, I’m not gonna take it,” she promised. He glanced down at her, bright blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I was just curious.”

He huffed in silence, falling back to the ground silently as he dusted the dirty pages. Katniss frowned, shifting on her feet as she watched the boy flip through his story. She hadn’t thought past the initial finding him, and now that she had, the silence was deafening.

“Can you speak?”

The tips of his ears turned red as he kept his gaze focused at the ground, running his hands over the dirty cloth of his pants.

“Of course.”

“I know,” she smiled slyly, inching closer to him the way one might approach a nervous animal. “I just wanted to hear you say something.”

She sat down, pushing her butt closer when he didn’t protest and leaned over his shoulder to glance down at his lap. She’d never seen a book so close in real life, only in the hands of strangers or in pictures. Father had never bothered teaching her how to read more than a few simple words, claiming it was pointless for girls to fill their heads with nonsense like knowledge. Certainly, as a circus girl, it wasn’t Katniss’s place to argue. But, it hadn’t helped her curiosity. She sat in silence, wondering if the boy could actually read the words on the pages, or if he was pretending. It was just as ridiculous for the time to be spent teaching him such a skill as it would be for herself.

“What is your novel about?”

“You can borrow it, if you would like,” he offered, dog-earing one of the pages before handing it over to her waiting hands. Her lips pursed sourly as her eyebrows furrowed, pushing the book back into his hands with a sting of betrayal in her chest.

“Well, you don’t need to make fun of me.” she mumbled, rising up to her feet. How humiliating, to be made fun of by this boy she’d only hoped to make feel more comfortable.

“Wait.” He grabbed hold of her arm, the first physical contact he’d offered to her since she’d approached. Her body stiffened and the warmth of his fingertips was gone in a flash as his hand twitched back down to his side. He pushed a long lock of hair back behind his ear, eyes boring into her despite her back being turned.

And it was then, under the candlelight that she saw the gnashes and hideous scarring that ripped apart more than half of his face up close. Quickly, she looked away.

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” he promised lowly, sounding almost sincere. “I wouldn’t.”

“I can’t read. You should know that,” she sniffed, chin tilted up in the air as her eyes shifted back to his forlorn face. “I’m a lady.”

“My apologies. Someone I kne—” he stopped himself short with a shake of his head before cocking his chin back in the direction of the book. He ghosted a hand over its impressive script before opening it back up to the page he’d previously closed. “Perhaps, I could teach you. If you wanted to learn, then you could borrow it sometime.”

Katniss took a moment to truly ponder the idea. Plenty of carnie’s had taught her things over the years. Octavia, the lady with facial hair as long as that which grew on Katniss’s head, had taught her how to properly buckle her shoes when she was younger. And to that day, Haymitch took credit for teaching the girl her first words. She didn’t suppose accepting such a proposition from this boy was much different.

“What would you like in return?” she wondered aloud, confused by the boys humorless laughter, sounding through the dark space.

“Your company shall be payment enough.”

She imagined the boy, all by himself in the dark confines of the carnie tent with only the book as company, and pitied him. She knew well that it took more than being surrounded by a sea of people to not feel alone. Gale and Prim would like her new friend though, she was sure of it, and together they would all keep him fine company until he found a solid place within the odd circus family.

“Alright,” Katniss agreed, dusting the dirt from the bottom of her old dress. She needed to be going soon, or Gale would grow suspicious. The last thing she needed was father out searching for her when he had a show to run. “Friends, then.”

“Sure,” he agreed slowly, as if mulling over the word. “Friends.”

“But we can hardly be friends if I don’t know your name,” she argued, waiting patiently with her hands twisted together. Her tightly spun sausage curls bounced with every step she took in the direction of the main tent before stopping just outside of it. “Mine is Katniss.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Katniss,” he spoke, so eloquently for someone of his status. “I’m Peeta.”

#fanfic #writing #circus!everlark #this will definitely be on the darker side...lol #probably the darkest thing ive written #very different #but i hope interesting??#let me know if its worth continuing or aborting LOL #writing is hard #everlark #everlark fanfic #thg #why is putting something out into the universe so hard?? lol

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sir-adamus · 4 years

Text

so, after making some changes, struggling to find character allusions and having to rename one of the team members so i’d have an initial i can fit into a reasonable-ish team name, i have the concept descriptions of this RWBY fan-team down, below the cut, i give you Team HRTS - i am open to any feedback on these:

Team HRTS are a “technically-graduated” Huntress team operating out of Vale; they had rushed back to the school from a mission as the attack began, arriving at the city far too late to do anything but help pick up the pieces.

After a hasty, informal graduation from Acting Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch, they’re taking to their roles as Huntresses in a world now fumbling in the dark, no matter how futile it seems right now.

Alice Heddwyn – Leader, based on Alice in Wonderland. Rabbit Faunus. 21 years old.

Weapon: “Vorpal Blade” – Sword – fitted with grooves that slot different combinations of Dust types in depending on the mode, mode is selected by twisting the handle in combinations only Alice knows. Examples: “Snicker-Snack” mode – Default, no Dust. “Frumious” mode – Fire and Rock Dust. “Slithy” mode – Water and Gravity Dust. “Tulgey” mode – Plant and Wind Dust. “Mimsy” mode – Electricity Dust. Alice utilises a fast series of swings, dealing physical and elemental damage to wear down her opponents defenses.

Semblance: “Wonderland” – by expending Aura, Alice can summon an “imaginary friend” (similar to Weiss’s summons) that acts as an autonomous entity on the battlefield. Only one friend can be summoned at a time, cannot split into multiple entities, and as Alice is not directly in control of the friends, she must be careful who she picks as they may prove to be more a hindrance than a help. Risk factor: if she gets too carried away with her imagination, her Aura drains faster. Optimal usage is in small bursts rather than a continuous battlefield presence.

Personality: Charismatic, friendly and airy (in general, weird girl energy), able to balance the personalities within her team and respond to feedback from her teammates. Has a notable childish streak (she sometimes talks to her imaginary friends, so she seems weird to other people but – understandably – the line where she ends and the imaginary friends her Semblance manifests, and how sapient they are on their own, is blurry), and can be quite stubborn, especially towards authority figures when she believes she knows better. Quite talkative and blunt.

Appearance: Long, white rabbit ears. Short, platinum blonde hair – “punky” hairstyle? Blue eyes. Freckles and a tan due to outdoorsy nature. Shortest member of her team at 5’4’’. Outfit: Azure blue hairband. Blue combat skort (with pockets). White belt – pocket-watch hanging from it (gift/memento from a parent referencing the White Rabbit?) and Pumpkin Pete keychain. Wears black knee and wrist support braces and blue fingerless gloves. Black combat boots with blue lining/laces and cute white bows on the back. White tank top, black high collar crop puffer jacket (blue interior lining, stripes down the arms and accents), sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

Aura Colour: White

Emblem: Keyhole shape - splashed on the back of her jacket in white.

Background: Alice is the daughter of a Faunus and a human – her human parent is from the wealthier side of Vale (befitting the crown imagery and also alluding to original Alice being kind of upper class), she grew up in a large home in Vale, filled with extended family (some of whom she’s not entirely sure she’s actually related to), full of eccentricity and play; encouraging her wild imagination. She wanted to be a Huntress due to her imaginative spirit and romantic ideals about adventures and heroism. Initially she was quite a socially awkward, isolated loner outside of her home as she was often singled out as the weird kid (if she wasn’t being targeted for being a Faunus), while she studied at Pharos Academy, so initially it took a while for her to open up and rely on her team, at which point her more extroverted tendencies became apparent.

Rowena Argentum – based on Treasure Island. Human. 21 years old.

Weapon: “Flint and Bones” - Twin pistols that can combine and extend into an anti-material rifle (“The Captain”) – this mode has a lot of recoil, so Rowena’s prosthetic leg can double as a mount for it for long range shots.

Semblance: None – her Semblance was stolen not long after it unlocked when she was young, as collateral following a hit job by the assassin Marcus Black.

Personality: Cheerful and perhaps overly friendly, Rowena maintains a humble and optimistic outlook, sharing Alice’s eagerness for adventure. Unlike Alice, however, Rowena masks a hard edge, brought on by a life living unprotected by the Kingdoms; she’s an impressive liar, excellent at gathering information and pickpocketing. She has a vengeful streak and her impulsiveness often gets her into trouble, though it has tempered over the years.

Appearance: Long, loose green hair and coal-black irises. 5’8’’. She has a few scars on her arms and face from a rough life outside the Kingdoms, one notable one being a scar extending from the left edge of her mouth in a jagged “smile”. Rowena lost her left leg in the same incident she lost her Semblance; it has since been replaced with a simple prosthesis that she has modified to double as a mount for The Captain. She has a pirate aesthetic, wearing a loose blouse under a long double-breasted coat-jacket. Under her jacket she wears suspenders, which have the holsters for Flint and Bones attached. She wears several belts around her waist, loose-fitting trousers tucked into knee-high buckle boots. Colour scheme primarily green and silver.

Aura Colour: Silver

Emblem: A stylised Hawk from a top-down view, with its wings spread; worn on her belt buckle and tattooed on her right wrist.

Background: Rowena grew up outside the protection of the Kingdoms, hailing from a small seaside town. She saw numerous bandits and pirates coming through town on a daily basis, and would often be regaled with stories of swashbuckling adventure by the friendlier visitors. Until the day came that a notorious pirate made port in the town, and the place was set ablaze after his subsequent assassination by Marcus Black. Rowena’s Semblance was unlocked in the panic, only to be immediately stolen by Marcus on his way through, endangering the child’s life as her home burned around her, and the Grimm set in. She lost her leg as a result. Determined to never let this happen anywhere else, she dedicated her life to becoming a Huntress, traveling all over (including some time spent in Kuchinashi) and fighting to survive, learning whatever skills she had to until she was old enough to take the exam at Beacon Academy – and keeping an ear to the ground in case a certain assassin ever showed his face again.

Titania Ianthe – based on the Fairy Queen. Human. 21 years old.

Weapon: “Graviton Reign” – Glaive weapon, reach for crowd control. Contains a mechanism which uses Gravity Dust inside the blade, furthering crowd control ability, either with repulsing strikes or anchoring opponents as they are swept away.

Semblance: “Attraction” – Titania emits a low-level psychic field that makes everyone and everything pay attention to her. Effect is passive and subtle most of the time, but she can use her Aura to concentrate the effect as a pulse in battle (extending the radius of her Area of Effect to 15 meters); drawing aggro from people and Grimm alike.

Personality: Aloof, confident and proud, Titania didn’t come to Beacon to make friends, but there she found a family. Titania has a lot of walls up, and is often frustrated that her teammates seem determined to clamber over every single one. Despite her exasperation though, she loves her team and would do anything for them, even if it means administering some tough love once in a while. She has difficulty in social situations, and has a tendency to try and shoulder too much responsibility at once. She is also sometimes insecure, due to the nature of her Semblance, whether anyone truly likes her.

Appearance: Wavy, shoulder length dark brown hair, pinned back so it won’t get in her eyes. Dark purple eyes. She has light brown skin, a toned, athletic physique and is noted as the most beautiful of her team. Tallest member of the team at 6’2’’. Outfit: Wears a purple and black sleeveless, hooded top (hood is usually kept up). Black, segmented armoured bracers with silver accents over black gloves. A loose, knee-length faded purple skirt over biker shorts. Heeled black boots with purple laces and zippers.

Aura Colour: Purple

Emblem: A tiara with a large central peak – shaped with interwoven lines and swirls

Background: Titania hails from Vacuo, originally from a small community near the edge of the Kingdom. She grew up hearing old stories about famous Huntsmen and Huntresses, especially enamoured with legendary Huntresses like Opal or the Grimm Reaper. Eager to see the world beyond the sands, and assured in herself that she would one day be talked about in stories too, she trained to fight, traveling to Vale where she could begin her legend. She quickly found recognition and popularity at Beacon; she just wishes people would stop asking her out on dates.

Sable Dunscaith – based on Scáthach. Human. 21 years old.

Weapon: “Nightfall Breach” – a spear with multiple configurations. Its compact form can fire crossbow bolts (charged with explosive Dust) out of the spear tip. The default form functions as a regular spear weapon and can be thrown as a javelin – the spearhead has a hidden function, releasing explosive barbs for additional damage after making contact. The pole-vault form is exactly what it says on the tin, extending out and allowing Sable to pole-vault over or across obstacles, retracting rapidly to allow for aerial manoeuvres whilst she’s in the air. She can also throw Nightfall Breach as a javelin, and relies on martial arts training until she can retrieve it.

Semblance: “Phantom” – able to utilise any shadow within a 40-foot radius as a portal as long as she is stood within the shadow (and it isn’t her own) – she can then appear from any shadow of her choosing (the further away, the higher the cost on her Aura). She can also utilise portals at a distance by throwing objects, such as Nightfall Breach, giving her an advantage in combat by making her hard to predict. Her Semblance’s effectiveness is drastically increased at night, but incredibly diminished in wide open areas, especially during the day when there’s little to cast shadows.

Personality: In contrast to her gloomy appearance, Sable is as much of an excitable nerd as her leader, as well as the de facto team mom. Sable is often on the side-lines in conversations, which suits her just fine, but she’s always watching out for everyone and there to lend a supportive hand when it’s needed. In spite of her quiet appearance, she’s also a bit of a prankster and can be very competitive, especially when her twin is involved. Her calm, warm demeanour however masks a fiery and brutal warrior with a number of tricks up her sleeve that let her control the flow of battle while maintaining a sharp degree of unpredictability.

Appearance: Red hair kept in a short ponytail. Vivid crimson eyes. Pale complexion. In general, she has a very Gothic aesthetic. 5’11’’. Outfit: Sable dresses in mainly black with some silver accents. She wears a long, fishtail coat with a fur-lined collar, long trousers and fur-lined heeled boots.

Aura Colour: Black

Emblem: A Castle – embroidered in silver on the back of her coat.

Background: Sable grew up on the island of Patch off the coast of Vale, and like many, attended Signal Academy in hopes of one day being accepted into Beacon – being a Huntress like her mother and grandmother was the dream. Sable’s twin, Astrid, determined to outshine her, followed her on this path, becoming a rival that pushes Sable to become ever stronger. When initiation put them each on different teams, this rivalry grew even fiercer; now in their fourth year and on the cusp of becoming fully licensed Huntresses, tensions between the twins are edging towards a fever pitch.

#RWB/Y

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yandere-ac · 4 years

Note

Can you do rosie..........

Yandere Rosie X Reader

In the spotlight

Cherished, beloved, adored. These are your typical descriptions of Rosie , the purple cat. She was a very popular pop artist, ranking in tens of thousands of views and listens to her songs every day. It was a simple fact, the cat was loved by many people. Now of course, she wasn’t as big as K.K. Slider. She was more of an “underrated artist” in a way. Still, she had her dedicated fans, adoring fans and even a fare share of creepy fans. However, something she didn’t have that much of, was haters. She had rarely seen people hate on her or her music. It was sort of an anomaly since she thought she would get more by now.

Yet, somehow, she managed to live on an island where one of her avid haters lived.

Chichi Ryder. A name which brought a frown to Rosies face. She was the island representative of I/N. Yet her description of the island was very misleading. She and Tom Nook advertised I/N as a nice island, full of support and relaxation. However, Rosie thought the opposite. Everyday, she would walk outside and see Chichi running around talking to everyone. Yet once she got to Rosie, she would scoff and run off. Rosie felt targeted, she felt outcasted. She didn’t have a lot of reasons to stay, she could move out easy as that. But there was one thing that kept her from packing her bags and leaving.

And that was you.

Y/N L/N. You were the one who found her on that deserted island. Running up to her, asking for an autograph, it was pretty obvious that you were a fan. She found you to be very adorable and sweet. And so, when you asked if she could move in to your island, she happily accepted. That day she went home, stomach full of butterflies. However, her momentary joy soon faded once she realised who ran the island. Not you, but Chichi. Not only that but she soon found out something even WORSE! The fact if the matter was, you were not only friends with Chichi, no, you were in fact DATING Chichi!

This absolutely broke Rosie. She had been genuinely interested in you, so to find out that someone like Chichi was not only the island’s representative but also your girlfriend, it stung. It was like salt in the wound, someone punching her while she’s down, kicking sand in her eyes after destroying her sandcastle. Let’s just say, she was bitter about it. But she told herself she wouldn’t let it get to her. No, she was above this sort of drama. People like Chichi were simple worms trying to get a bit of light from her spotlight after being downcast in the darkness for so long. She wouldn’t let it get to her.

“Rosie!!!” She knew that voice. She would recognise that voice anywhere. It was the voice that would bring her the little happiness she felt while living on I/N. It was you. “HIIIIII Y/N!!! What’s up!” Rosie exclaimed as she looked over to you. You were running towards her, a pep in your step, looking very excited. Once you were near her you gave her a big hug before taking out something from your pockets. It was a gift! Neatly wrapped in pink wrapping paper and swiftly tied together with a cute little bow in a darker shade of pink. She looked at the present in amazement before looking over at you. You extended your arms, holding out the present for Rosie. “For me?” She asked, a soft smile gracing her lips. You enthusiastically nodded as you gave her a wide smile. Rosie happily took it, staring down at it for a few seconds. It looked so pretty, she didn’t want to ruin it by unwrapping the paper. But curiosity and temptation was shaking her to the core with anticipation. She wanted to rip it open. Tearing into the paper, destroying its beautiful exterior. But she couldn’t do that, she had to hide away her animalistic instincts from you. If she didn’t... you might hate her...

So she carefully unwrapped the present. Having to forcefully push down her want to rip it into shreds. Looking inside she saw a cute pink bow. Hey eyes when wide and she let out an audible gasp as she looked at the present in her hands. It was beautiful. “Oh my god! Are you like, for sure I can have this?” She felt herself getting all flustered, you knew her style so well. “Of course! You’re my friend! And I got this just for you!” This statement made Rosie choke up. It felt like her breath was caught dead still in her throat. Thrashing to escape but ultimately stuck. Friend. That word conflicted her. On one hand, she felt the affection of you actually considering her a friend. She felt very accepted and loved while she was with you. But on the other hand... friends?! Is that all you’ll ever be??? Just two gal pals? She didn’t want that. She wanted to kiss your beautiful face. Embrace you, feel you soft skin against her fur. She didn’t want to be friends, she wanted something more, she wanted for you to be hers. And only hers.

“Thank you Y/N! I love... it... I love it so much!” And with that she put the bow on and gave you a big hug. You felt so nice in her arms. Right where you belonged.

“Sweetkins!” The tender moment was interrupted by the one person Rosie DIDN’T want intervening. Chichi fucking Ryder. But of course she of all people would interrupt you two. Breaking the hug, you looked up at your girlfriend and quickly letting go of Rosie all together. You seemed to get a little more nervous. She embraced you lovingly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around for a few seconds before finally putting you back down again. You planted a kiss on her lips and Rosie had to resist the urge to puke. Chichi turned from you and looked over at Rosie. “Oh... hello Rosie...” Chichi said as she gave Rosie a stern look. She hid behind a smile, but it was easy to see all the hate and resentment behind her eyes. “Hello Chichi, how are you?” Rosie said, almost in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Hmph. I’m doing fine. Anyways, Y/N! I wanted to tell you that I can’t make it to tonights movie night” She said as she turned to you, a small frown forming on her face.

This made you sulk as you looked at her with puppy eyes. “Oh don’t do that sweetie...you know how stressful it’s been.” “I know I know. But it’s just... you never have time for me anymore...” Rosie couldn’t help but smile to herself. One thing that made this whole situation better was the fact that yours and Chichis relationship wasn’t the most stable at this time around. She was hoping you two would break up soon.

“I know sweetheart. The island rep work has just been a lot lately...” you let out a big sigh at this. “Okay, I get it...” in response to this, Chichi graced Y/N’s hand slightly. “But hey, I have time now. So why don’t we do something?” Y/N’s eyes lit up as she said this. And so, Chichi grabbed ahold of her partners hand and ran off. Just before the three departed, Rosie could swear she saw ChiChi shoot her a glare.

God she hated Chichi!!! Such a disgusting and hateful individual did not DESERVE to be with someone like you! She wish she could just disappear!!! Then she could have you for herself. Yeah. All to herself... with nothing to take you away from her...

“Why do you like her so much Y/N? She’s just so...annoying” Chichi told her you once you two were far away enough from Rosie. She had her arm wrapped around your waist as you were calmly walking throughout the island. You frowned at your girlfriend as she said this. “Chichi, we agreed on this. I would get to invite 3 villagers while you got to invite the other 7. Why do you have to question my choices? I don’t judge you for the islanders that you choose...” This statement made Chochi roll her eyes. “I’m not judging you Y/N. I’m just wondering what you find appealing with her. God you don’t need to be so dramatic.” You hated when she did this. She would always do stuff like this! She was always so insensitive to your feelings and every time you would bring this issue up with her she would ignore it. “I just like her okay! She’s really sweet and she’s given me more support then you’ve ever-“ You stopped yourself mid sentence, realising what you were saying. “What? What had she done Y/N?” Chichis voice was filled with spite. Your gaze was fixated to the ground, refusing to look into her eyes. “Look at me Y/N!” As she said this she grabbed ahold of your chin and forcefully yanked your head to her so that you would face her. “That’s better. Now, what did she do?” You were thrashing in your grip but it only tightened as you did this. “....nothing...she has done nothing for me...”

1 am. That’s how late Chichi stayed up to terraform the island that night. Rosie had to admit, she worked very hard on the island. Too bad after she’s done there would be no one left to terraform or decorate this place. As she approached, Chichi turned her head around to see who was there. “Oh...it’s you...what are you doing here?” She turned back around to her work, she was currently making a heart pond. “I wanted to discuss something with you.” When Rosie said this, Chichi let out an audible laugh. “Oh yeah? I don’t care what you have to say Rosie! I don’t care about you in the slightest.” Rosie walked closer to her, her face was dead serious. “It’s about Y/N.” This made Chichi stop what she was doing completely.

“....what about 'em” Rosie was now coming even closer, backing Chichi up into the two curves at the top of the heart, effectively trapping her. “I’m gonna cut to the chase Chichi.” As Rosie said this she put her hands in the pockets of her dress. “I know what you did to Y/N.” Chichis eyes went wide as her breath hitched up. “I...I haven’t done anything to-“ “bullshit! You know damn well what you did! I know what you did this afternoon, I know what you’ve done when you two were alone, or at least, when you thought you were alone...” Rosie was now coming even closer to the girl, and chichi was backing up slightly. Seemingly unsure of what the cat was doing. “I know every horrible thing you did to her...but like I said. Let me CUT-“

Chichi could feel a sharp pain in her chest, crimson red blood pouring out of the freshly formed wound. She wanted to scream but Rosie tackled her to the ground, or more accurately, half of her body to the ground. The upper part of her body was now under water as Rosie sat on the lower half of her body, forcing her head under water. Chichi thrashed and struggled, trying to get out. The heart ponds water was slowly becoming redder and redder as Chichis struggles became weaker and weaker. And after about one minute, the struggling stopped, just like the bubbles coming out from Chichi did. But Rosie was a careful cat. She made sure to give one or two extra stabs to the gut, not just to make sure she was dead, but truth be told, she was really enjoying it.

Now to get to work.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. That of course was your breathing pattern as you were sleeping. Rosie on the other hand was barely able to control her heavy breaths as she looked at your peaceful form. Not only because of how breathtaking you were but also because of the adrenaline that was still coursing through her veins. Maybe...maybe if she just. Rosie took her paw and stroked your cheek slightly, caressing it with her thumb and feeling her pulse slow down. That is. Until you started to let out a sting of groans and you opened your eyes slightly. It was still very dark and judging by the look of your face you might not have realised that it was Rosie.

“....Chichi? What are you doi-IMMHHPH!!!” Rosie has draped a cloth over your mouth. She knew that she had to do this, it was the one thing she came here to do. But she had her fun now, time to get to work. She pressed the cloth against your mouth and nose harder, you were struggling and panicking. Meaning you are going to breathe in more and more as you hyperventilate. Your eyes looked at hers as they filled with tears and pain. You probably thought she had betrayed you, that she was going to kill you or something. Silly you, of course she wouldn’t! She loved you! ...she had avoided doing something this drastic, she had hoped that you and Chichi would have broken up by now but you seemed to be to scared of her to do anything. And she simply could not let her sweet sweet baby go through any more abuse than they’ve already gone through. My god was it gonna be great to see your face when she showed you her surprise! Whether your screams would be of joy or horror, she was gonna get immense pleasure.

She had tried to act normal around you for so much time. She had tried to get a normal relationship with you. But temptation ate at her, it consumed all sense of logic or reason inside of her. Until all that was left was a hungry animal. A hungry animal that craved for one and only one thing.

You.

“Yoyhoo...time to wake up sweety...Y/N? Could you please open your eyes for me? Could you do that?” You heard a distance voice call out to you. Was that Rosie. You tried to open your eyes, slightly wincing at the newfound light that found its way into your vision. You tried to rub your eyes but once you lifted your arms you noticed two things. They felt heavier and they made a little jingle as you lifted them. What in gods name... you tried to force your eyes open only to feel something grab your cheek. It was a soft paw, stroking your left cheek slowly in a loving manner. After a few seconds you finally managed to open your eyes just to see Rosie, sitting besides you.

“Oh you’re awake now! Great!” She said as she clasped her hands together! Looking around your surroundings you quickly became horrified with what you saw. You were chained up in what appeared to be a basement of some sort. But the true horror was right in front of you. Rosie, the cat you loved so dearly, had blood all over her. And a deranged look in her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in god knows how long and her breathing was very spastic. “R-Rosie?! What the hell are you doing?! Why am I here?! Who’s blood is that?!” You citied out, the strong feeling of dread growing stronger and stronger.

“Oh why my sweet little Y/N! You’re here because I’ve had enough. Enough of watching her abuse you! Enough of waiting by the sidelines! Enough of letting her play around with something that’s not hers...” Rosies voice got more and more serious as she spoke. Voice dripping with venom. She stared off at the wall for a few seconds before looking back to you. Her face now completely normal. “Oh! That reminds me! I almost forgot your gift!” Rosie said cheerfully as she hopped off into a different room for maybe about two minutes, leaving you all alone. You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. You had never told Rosie about what Chichi did to you, so how did she know?! Did she stalk you!? It could very well be possible since she kidnapped you!

But you didn’t get much time to think as you heard the sound of footsteps approach you. Rosie was now back in the room, holding a present box. It was wrapped in pink wrapping paper and a darker pink ribbon. Just like the one you gave her yesterday...Rosie looked at you with anticipation. “Go on open it!” You didn’t know what you should do...the present had an thick oozing smell lingering around you. It made you gag. It smelled like something and died in there. But with the last drop of courage left in your body, you took the present and started to unwrap it. God what a mistake that was. Once you opened the box you let out a scream and dropped the present on the floor. Out of the box, fell a heart, splatting in the ground as it let out a disgusting sound. You looked trembled at the horrific scene in front of you.

“What the fuck!” That was the only thing you could say. Rosies face turned from a happy excited smile to a sad and disappointed smile. “Do you not like it? But I spent so much effort carving it out for you! Whatever...maybe you’ll be happier to know who it belonged to.” Rosie said, walking closer to you. You backed up, trying to get away only to be met by the cold wall against your back. As Rosie leaned closer to you, you felt tears well up in your eyes simply because of the fear you felt. “Can you guess?” She asked, now a mere inches away from your face. “N-No...ple-ease...I don’t-“ “oh Y/N. It’s Chochis heart of course! When you gave me that bow I thought, how could I possibly repay you. And so I though, what better way then to give you my heart! Sadly, I can’t really do that, so I had to settle for the next best thing. Chichi! Now she’ll never lay a finger on you again.”

Your trembling was now growing more violent. What is wrong with this cat, no, this monster! She killed your girlfriend! Sure you hated Chichi down to your core but you didn’t want her to die!

“Why?” Why was the only question that came into your head. “Why me? Why her?! Why would you do this! What did I do to deserve this!?” Tears were now pouring out from your eyes. Rosie simply dishes you as she crawled you next to you, wrapping her arms around you. “Because I love you...I wanna spend my life with you Y/N. You don’t understand how unbearable life alone in the spotlight has been. I wanna share that spotlight with you by my side! Chichi was in the way. So I disposed of her. But you don’t have to worry about her...”

“You’ll never have to worry about her again”

#acnh #yandere #yandere animal crossing #animal crossing #yandere acnh #animal crossing x reader #ac x reader #animal crossing new horizons #animal crossing new horizons x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #tw abuse #tw murder #tw dismemberment #rosie acnh #yandere rosie #tw kidnapping #tw abduction

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is-that-another-soulmate-au · 4 years

Text

Zukka Soulmate AU part 9

@mypureessence

@chaoticidiott

@ari-shipping-stuff

@knightedbot

@idkhowbutimgayer

@swampy-beans

@angrylittleintrovert

Kurt was only out for about 15 minutes but that was long enough for Tarren and Fin to get him to the back on one of the spare cots. The gaang besides Iroh and Jee stayed to see how things went down, all gathered in the room reading maps and planning their trip while Lily paced back and forth muttering to herself before she threw her hands in the air

"Why wouldnt he tell us!?" She shouted

"I dont know Lily" Tarren said while he dabbed a cold towel on Kurt's forhead

"I mean, he could see the scars the three of us share! Why... why wouldnt he say anything!?"

"I'm sure he had a good reason Lily, I mean, how did you guys even know you had a third soulmate?" Katara asked with a small tilt to her head.

The duo both placed their hands to their chests instinctively. "Well, we didn't always know, but one day we both collapsed in the middle of a shift,"

[Flashback when? Flashback now!]

"Of course Miss Jin, Grey with honey and two sugars at 3 pm sharp just like every other Friday" Lily smiled while handing the girl her cup of tea she made for her at the exact same time every single friday evening. Jin was a favorite.

"How are you and Tarren?" Jin asked with a smile which made Lily blush

"Hah. We're doing alr-" suddenly Lily lost her breath from a blunt pain in her chest. "Tarren" she wheeled out just before letting out a yelp and clutching her chest "Tarren!"

"Lily!" Tarren's voice called out from the other sid of the Library followed by the sound of scrolls falling to the ground

The two scrambled to eachother with Jin following Lily and Fin rushing out from the back with paperwork to see what was happening. The pair crashed into eachother and held onto the others arms "what happened?" Lily cried out "whats going on. It burns, oh Gods it burns Tarren"

"I- I dont know" Tarren when to unclip his uniform, shucking off the top shirt before ripping the underdress to reveal painful bubbling skin in the shape of a hand and spreading across his chest and up to his neck down past where he managed to rip down to.

"There's a third" Jin said with a gasp

"Whoever they are theyre in trouble" Fin said bluntly while turning to Jin "Jin do you mind running to get the medic? I have to stay with them and they can't move" he gestured to their shivering crying forms.

"Are they dying?" Lily managed to wheeze out between sobs of pain

"No, this isnt direct, its just an- oh right" he nearly forgot that Lily watched her parents killed in a similar way "Lily, trust me, the third in the trio is not dying, they're being hurt, but they aren't dying"

Lily nodded, the pain lasted for a good 20 minutes before slowly dying down and feeling like it was being treated on all ends.

[Flashback over]

Katara gave a small frown "I wonder what happened to him"

"Ill tell you if you help me sit up" Kurt said with a small cough. Sokka who had been sitting near him but was lost in a map with Zuko looked up

"Oh, the munchkin awakens!"

"The... what?" Kurt laughed out

"Ignore him, he's stupid sometimes" Katara said as she helped Kurt sit up and put a pillow behind his back. "How did you get burned if you dont mind me asking?

Kurt gave a sigh and looked to Sokka and Zuko "well, honestly its probably a similar story to mr princey over there"

Zuko tensed "how do you know who I am... and you don't know how I got this"

"I do" Aang said with his hand raised "well, kinda, I think it was your da- mphf!" Zuko shut Aang up with his hands on his mouth

"Shut up, now is not about me or how I got my scar, its about short stack over there"

"Shortstack!? Okay, now that was just rude. But I got this burn from my dad, he wasn't great and had no position to even justify his abuse against me and my mom." He brought his hand to his necklace with a small frown

"He caught me hanging out by a small pond with an earth boy named Haru and was convinced I was a traitor for doing so. He lectured be when he got me home by slamming me against the door and burning me"

he looked up to Tarren and Lily "I didn't tell you, and I always hid my scar because I'm scared hes going to find me again, after he left for the war my mom fell ill and died, so I ran away to my Pappy and he's sick right now so I don't know how long I have with his protection." He gave a sigh "I dont want him to find me and know that you two are my soulmates because he'll hurt you to get to me. And I cant let you get hurt..."

Lily put her hand on her chest with a frown "I'm sorry Kurt, I had no idea. But now that we know I hope you understand we won't let anyone hurt you or us."

"And that includes me" Fin said from the doorway "you've got two master earthbenders and a vigilante assassin on your side now"

"Woah, woah, vigilante assassin?" Toph piped up "Lily is an assassin!? That's so cool!" She marched right up to her and jabbed her finger in her direction "I dont know you too much but I do know that I like you!"

Lily flushed a bright red and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly "hah, thanks? Wait are you a beifong?"

"Sure am!"

"I didnt know the beifongs had a daughter, let alone a daughter teaching the avatar earthbending" Lily said with a smile

"Yeah, well they didn't think I was strong enough because I cant read" Toph gave a shrug

"I could teach you sometime" Lily offered

"Im blind missy" Toph said with a cackle

"I know" Lily giggled "We have Braille books, I can teach you to read braille if you want to"

"Braille?"

"Instead of ink on the pages there are raised dots in patterns to make the letters, numbers and words, Fin and his wife managed to invent it ten years ago because Fin's best friend is blind and he wanted to send him letters, but it isn't too popular yet sadly"

Toph stood there for a moment before saying anything "wait... are you telling me there's a way I can read?"

"Yeah! Its more commonly on paper but Tarren and Fin use earthbending to write it out much faster on stone tablets, its much less wasteful. But for nonbenders like myself thats not really an option, so I write with the paper and the pressing tools."

Sokka piped into the conversation with a quick jump to his feet "can you teach me too? I want to know how to write in a way that she can read" he had a determined look on his face and sound in his voice that caught everyone off guard

"I... didnt realize you cared?" Katara said with a confused look

"Of course I care Katara! I probably care too much sometimes, I care about every single one of you," he looked around "did... did you really think I didnt care?"

Aang looked at Katara and then at Sokka "she probably only thought that because you show care differently than her, I know you care, I mean you've managed to keep us all together and solve our problems, youre a uh... solve it kinda care... if thats a type"

Everyone looked at Aang befote Lily gave a small laugh "you sound like Fin, he's really caring for sure but you have to understand him to notice his love language." Lily paused "but teaching you both will take a while, even just teaching Toph here, who I assume has never been taught anything about letters and words on pages. I'm guessing you lot are traveling to stop the war?"

"You bet!" Aang said with a cheeky grin

"Well you could easily travel with them and teach them all, you and Tarren both" Kurt suggested

"Im not going anywhere without you" Lily said whil jabbing a finger towards him and leaning down close to him "I promised to protect you, and I will"

"Then how about you all come with us! We can all learn braille! I mean I'm already teaching Aang waterbending, Toph is teaching Aang earthbending. And hopefully Zuko and Iroh will teach him firebending so a new writing language should be good for all of us!" Katara said with excitement clear in her voice

It only took a bit of convincing to have Kurt join but it took a good 20 minutes worth of convincing Fin to let Tarren and Lily travel around while Fin ran the library with the help of Jin who stepped up to take over the pairs roles in the library.

But before leaving Lily showed Sokka the braille pressing tools so he could get a quick idea of the way they worked before packing up a good amount of paper and tools so she could teach them. On the road. Tarren would help Toph with hers for stone given they're both earthbenders.

Once they started packing up their own belongings Toph walked into Lily's room with a small knock "hey, you almost ready petty steps?"

"Pretty steps? Uh, yeah I just have to find a good place to put this" she moved her hand a bit with a wooden mask facing up

"What is that?"

"Its my assassin mask, its got a white base, think warm wind. Two black marks, think of cold night ponds stretching from the side tips of her nose, above the brow bone and getting much thicker before going up and becoming two horns. The eye holes and the lips are both dark red, think of the warmth of a summer evening sunset."

Toph stood in the doorway "I didnt need the description but that kind of makes colors interesting"

"Really?"

"No"

The two laughed at the bluntness but then Lily shrugged "I guess your right, I didnt need to describe it, but I wanted to anyways" she held the mask for a second before packing it away "it's from my sisters favorite spirit fable. 'Lady of the sunset pond' she had my mama read it to us every night" Lily reached to her necklace and held the roght ash stone.

"Sounds like they hold a special place to you"

"Yeah, they do"

"What happened to them?" Toph asked while leaning against the wall

"We don't have the time to unwrap another story today" Lily gave a small laugh while she set her bag down "besides I need to change before we go, can't leave in a work uniform you know, not really meant for traveling" she moved towards Toph and gave a small bow "thank you for accepting to learn braille from me"

Toph smiled shortly but then punched Lily's arm earning a confused 'ow' to which she responded "thats how I show affection"

"Ah, thats an interesting way to show it" Lily laughed "now I best be getting changed, mind stepping out? I know you see with earthbending, I've seen Tarren train without sight before so I can recognize it"

Toph laughed and stepped out "whatever Pretty steps"

Once everyone was changed and packed they all let on loading up Appa and preparing to fly to the next place. The ragtag group of 4 traumatized kids was suddenly a ragtag group of 8 traumatized kids and 2 wise old men traveling on a flying bison with a small mischievous lemur. What a busy two days huh?

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in-class-daydreams · 5 years

Text

Blue Star | Oikawa x Reader | Ch.1

- Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

- Word Count: ~ 3,900

- Genres: Fluff, angst, Ushijima doesn’t know what a meme is

- CW: Mild swearing

- Summary: Sometimes, (Y/N) wonders if it was hard for her father to send her away. To a new prefecture, a new home, a new school. It all just might be worth it when after becoming the (suspiciously knowledgeable) manager of the Aoba Johsai boys’ volleyball club, she meets Oikawa Tooru. Together, they do their best to exorcise demons they thought would never leave. They learn about progress, when to strive for it, and when to accept the realities that cannot be changed.

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Sweaty and shaking, (Y/N) sat upright in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The walls were eggshell white, bare, pristine as if they had been untouched. There were no souvenirs or personal belongings anywhere, save for a short pyramid of boxes sitting in the corner.

Stiff, unused sheets wrapped around her, nothing like her beloved bed set back home.

‘Oh, that’s right…” she thought, ‘This is home now.’

Her mind flashed back to the busy day before, where she said goodbye to her mother and had the movers bring only some of her belongings to her new apartment so that the space didn’t completely fill up with unpacked boxes.

After some long, deep breaths, (Y/N) turned her attention to the obnoxious noise her phone was making.

The overly bright device read ‘6:20’.

(Y/N) flopped back down on her bed.

She ran a hand down her face, groaning.

“I don’t really need an education, right? I’m still pretty flexible. I could probably drop out and become a stripper, right, Hubble? The club down the street is always trying to hire new people.”

Across the room, the round orange tabby gazed back at her judgmentally.

The teen rolled her eyes at her pet, “Thanks for the support, Hubs.”

Once in the bathroom after a long struggle to drag herself out of bed, (Y/N) rested her weight against the sink. Gently touching the bags under her eyes, she sighed.

“I’ve looked better,” she said to herself, “Hey! Bad kitty!”

She tried to nudge Hubble off the counter, only for the feline to look at her with a look of even lesser interest than she gave frogs or mice.

Realistically, (Y/N) could lift the cat of the counter herself, but honestly, she didn’t have the energy to do so.

Rather than get dressed for school, she sat down on the edge of the custom made bathtub.

Lips pursed, she said to her cat, “Hey, at least you got to come with me, rather than stay home with mom and dad. That’s good.”

Hubble gave her the facial equivalent of crickets chirping.

Snatching her new uniform from its hook, yanking the brown plaid skirt up her thighs, she grumbled to herself, “First I get exiled to a whole new prefecture, and now I’m talking to my cat, who has also decided to be a dick to me, but this is what I needed, right?” she asked sarcastically, “A ‘change of pace.’”

She tucked in the lilac dress shirt far more aggressively than necessary. Her sigh of relief was cut short when she spotted the cream vest and a blazer that she had to wear.

“Why does this stupid uniform have so many damn layers!” she screamed into the empty apartment.

Soon after, her shoulders sagged in resignation. Expertly lacing up the uniform tie, she sighed for the nth time since she woke up. There was no use fighting it any more. This empty, desolate apartment was her new home. Aoba Johsai was her new school. No amount of anger was going to change that.

She recalled the conversation she had with her childhood friend before she left.

“Wakatoshi said to just keep to myself. That’s easy. I can do that. Of course…” she glanced over to the box pyramid on the other side of her bare apartment.

(Y/N) stalked over, picking up the box on top, securely sealed with red duct tape. A scowl marred her already unpleasant expression.

Desperate to get it out of her sight, she shoved the box unceremoniously into her deep bedroom closet, where it (hopefully) would never bother her again.

“It’s kind of weird to get a transfer student in the middle of second year.”

“Maybe one of her parents got a new job or something.”

“What if she’s a delinquent?”

‘You know, it costs you nothing to mind your own freaking business.’

“All right, class, settle down,” the teacher raised her voice just slightly. “This is (L/N) (Y/N). She’s our new transfer student, and she’ll be the boys’ volleyball club manager this year. Make sure you all treat her well. Please have a seat in front of Iwaizumi-san.”

(Y/N) bowed, “Thank you, Yukino-sensei.”

The woman nodded, “Of course. I hope you enjoy your time here at Aoba Johsai.”

(Y/N) slid into the desk in front of a tan, spiky-haired boy who she recognized from middle school, only now it looked like his biceps were about to bust his uniform sleeves. It took her a second to realize who it was.

“Hajime!”

(Y/N) froze, worried they were no longer on a first-name basis, but the teenager just smiled back at her.

“(Y/N)! How’ve you been?”

“Eh, same old, same old. But it looks like you’re doing great! You’ve gotten so much bulkier since middle school! What have they been feeding you?” she said, causing him to laugh and ruffle her hair.

In fear of Yukino-sensei’s wrath, the class stayed relatively quiet. Though, people were stealing glances at her a noticeable amount. In their defense, they had a valid reason. One of the most intimidating students alive was being extremely friendly to an unknown, unheard transfer student. The stares were annoying, but not distractingly so.

The moment the final bell rang, a cluster of students swarmed (Y/N)’s desk.

“(L/N)-san, why did you transfer?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“(L/N)-san, how did you get the manager position?”

Ah, the manager position. That one came up a lot. Honestly, she didn’t see why people were so worked up over it.

She couldn’t exactly ignore her classmates, so she responded in as few words as possible, “I had to,” “No,” “I asked for it.” She kept her answers brief, hoping her fellow students would find the lack of response boring rather than alluring.

“(L/N),” Iwaizumi called out.

Her head immediately snapped to where he was standing by the door.

“You’re our new manager, right? Want me to show you where the gym is?” he asked gruffly.

(Y/N) grabbed her school supplies and practically ran over to Iwazumi, who had a tall brunette boy standing behind him.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

On the walk to the gym, Iwaizumi introduced the brunette, Oikawa, to her.

“I was Iwa-chan’s handsomer, much more popular friend, remember?”

Oh, she definitely remembered him. Was she about to tell him that, though? Not a chance. She pretended to think for a moment, then shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san, that doesn’t ring a bell.” She tilted her head, “Besides, Hajime here is a perfect 10, so I don’t know where this ‘handsomer’ business came from.”

While Oikawa stopped in indignation, (Y/N) walked on as Iwaizumi followed, laughing shamelessly.

“It’s not like you remember me, either,” she added.

Oikawa pouted, “That’s not my fault! I was invested in volleyball, not cute girls.”

(Y/N) ignored him and the three of them walked along the school hallway in silence for a while. (Y/N) did her best to keep her mouth shut, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“Hajime? Do you know why the manager position is so important to people around here?” she asked tentatively.

Iwaizumi barked a laugh, “That’s because--”

“-because I’m on the volleyball team! The manager gets to spend time near me, which is something pretty much everyone around here wants,” Oikawa winked and made his signature peace sign.

He grinned charmingly at (Y/N). Iwaizumi facepalmed. (Y/N) stared back blankly.

“Sure,” she deadpanned.

“Huh? You’re the one that asked!” Oikawa protested.

“She didn’t ask for an egotistical answer like that, Crappykawa,” Iwaizumi growled. He turned to (Y/N) once again, “As annoying and stupid as that answer is, he’s not entirely wrong. He’s really popular for some reason.”

“Weird.”

“I know, right?”

“Hey, don’t gang up on me!”

(Y/N) ducked under Oikawa’s arm into the gym, turning slightly to thank him over her shoulder. The first person to greet her was the short, stout Seijoh head coach.

“Well, if it isn’t (L/N) (Y/N). You have no idea how happy I was to hear you’d be transferring to our school,” Coach Irihata gave the teen a small nod. “Though, I wish it were under different circumstances,” he grimaced.

(Y/N) bowed at him respectfully, “You and I both, Coach. I’ll put all my focus into being your team manager from now on.”

The older man laughed, “I don’t doubt that. Let me introduce you to the team.”

He led her to stand at the edge of the court.

“This here is Mizoguchi, the coach. He’s a bit of a hardass.”

“Are you allowed to be saying these things, Coach?”

“Were you planning on reporting me, (L/N)?”

“Touche.”

Coach Mizoguchi had all the boys line up. The two coaches and (Y/N) walked down the line.

“These are our first-years, Kyoutani, Watari, and Yahaba. Our second years, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, Oikawa--”

‘They’re an odd group. Not horrible mismatched, but definitely not inherently interwoven like other teams I’ve seen.’

“We’ll be playing quick, 3-on-3 practice matches so (Y/N) can see what you can do.”

Some of the boys looked surprised, others even leaned over and whispered confused words to each other. At the same time, their new manager felt every drop of blood draining out of her face.

(Y/N) leaned in, “Coach, may I speak to you for a moment?” she whispered frantically.

Irihata allowed her to lead him out of earshot.

“I know I’ve asked a lot of you lately, Coach, but if we could call as little attention to me as possible, I would be eternally grateful. I doubt anyone will say anything, but if we could avoid giving them unnecessary hints, that would be ideal.”

He quirked a brow slightly, “(L/N), this is just a small request. You don’t have to grovel every time you ask something of me.”

(Y/N) fiddled with her track jacket, “I know. You’ve just done so much for me already.”

“So much by your standards, very little by mine. All I had to do was put in a good word for you. You secret’s safe with me, (L/N). Do your best as our manager,” he clapped her on the shoulder before gesturing for her to head back to the courts.

By the time practice was over, the players were all dog-tired and drenched in sweat. Despite the fact that her brain had gone numb from the busy analysis, she felt she had gotten a good grasp of the team’s individual and group abilities, having written mini reports in her notebook about all the players, their habits, and how they work together. Each player’s individual page included a few people they worked especially well with, but (Y/N) noticed that everyone worked especially well with Oikawa. He seemed to bring out the most ability and talent in everyone he set for.

It was unfair, really. Such amazing athletic talent, coupled with fluffy brown curls and a sharp jawline, only to be spoiled by a smug, flippant attitude.

Earlier, she’d made the mistake of letting him catch her staring once. The corners of his lips quirked up slightly, causing her to look away quickly.

(Y/N) changed back into her school uniform and locked up the main gym. Shouldering her bag, she noticed the lights on inside one of the smaller gyms.

She stepped inside to see Oikawa practicing his sets against the wall. He’d taken the time to change out of his sweaty practice gear, but he just changed into clean, dry practice gear.

“Oikawa-san?” she called out.

The setter caught the ball and turned his attention to her, “Ah, (Y/N)-chan! Heading home already?”

She nodded, “Yeah. You’re still going to be practicing for a while?”

A look of annoyance flashed across his face before returning to his usual carefree expression.

“Yes, I will be.”

(Y/N) nodded, taking a few steps in to set the master key on the bleachers, “I’m heading home, so please be sure to lock up when you’re finished.”

Had she stayed just a second longer, she’d have seen the slightly dumbfounded, mostly intrigued look on Oikawa’s face.

“Wakatoshi, I’m having the time of my life!”

“That’s an unexpected response, though I’m happy for you,” Ushijima’s slightly pixelated voice came from (Y/N)’s firepods.

“I’ve been keeping to myself enough where no one bothers me, I get to manage the volleyball team, and I’ve had two whole weeks of fucking peace here. All my hopes and dreams have come true.”

“Well, not all of them--”

“Stuff it, Ushijima, I know,” she grumbled.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, sorry. Have you met Oikawa Tooru yet?”

(Y/N) frowned, dodging a group of boys walking down the hall in the opposite direction.

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Why did you say it so quietly?”

“No reason,” she said just as quietly.

“You find him attractive, don’t you?”

“What? Him? But he’s so-- he’s such a flirt! He always has girls hanging around him and he always looks so pleased with himself. Not to mention he’s a genuinely amazing setter and he’s a considerate captain and--”

“So, you do find him attractive?”

“I mean,” (Y/N) huffed, stopping outside the equipment room door, “Yes.”

“More attractive than Semi?”

“I’d say they’re about the same.”

“Wow. That’s a high compliment coming from you.”

“Isn’t it? But-- Oh, I gotta go, Wakatoshi, I need to fill the water cooler.”

“I’ll talk to you tonight.”

“Later!”

(Y/N) was breathing hard as she carried the water cooler from the equipment room to the gym. She wondered if they could get a wagon or some sort of wheels so she didn’t have to pull a muscle just to fill the cooler every practice. Better yet, maybe just let them die of dehydration so she wouldn’t have to move at all.

Sigh.

No, (Y/N), this isn’t that type of school.

Finally making it to the gym, she took a deep breath and shuffled inside. Almost immediately after she set foot in the gym, all of a sudden, the water cooler had slammed back into her, pouring its icy contents all over her and her uniform.

She fell flat on her ass, rubbing the sore spot on her chin where the plastic had knocked into it.

‘Someone around here wants me to relieve them of both their arms,’ she thought.

“Kyoutani!” she heard Mizoguchi yell, “How did your spike end up all the way over there?”

She didn’t get the chance to hear the first-year’s reply before Coach Irihata kneeled in front of her, the boys crowding around the two of them.

‘No, no. Deep breaths, (Y/N). It was just an accident. Breathe in, breathe out. In, then out.”

Taking a final deep breath, she looked up, smiled sweetly and said, “Don’t worry. It’s just a little water.”

Iwaizumi came up behind her and hauled her up by the armpits, “You alright?”

(Y/N) nodded in affirmation.

Oikawa passed her a large - presumably his - Seijoh BVBC sweater. She fully expected him to say something that would get him smacked by Iwaizumi, but was surprised to see him walk away almost immediately.

Stepping out of the locker room, (Y/N) looked up at the dark evening sky.

“It’s already this dark?” she wondered aloud.

“Yep. It’s that time of the year,” came a voice from behind her.

Oikawa stepped out from the boys’ locker room, hair still damp, and aqua t-shirt clinging to his skin slightly from the moisture.

She stared at him.

He tilted his head. “I do take breaks sometimes, you know,” he said as if he’d read her mind.

“Could’ve had me fooled,” she replied, gathering her composure and making her way towards the front gate.

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N)-chan,” he waved her goodbye.

“See you tomorrow.”

Exiting the school gate, they both turned left, ending up walking the same direction anyway. They chuckled awkwardly.

“Never mind, then,” Oikawa smiled.

“I’m getting on the G-train and going down 6 stops. You?”

“G-train, 8 stops,” he gasped, “(Y/N)-chan, we live so close! We can hang out together every day!” he teased.

(Y/N) huffed, turning away so the brunette couldn’t see her smiling, “We already hang out every day, nerd.”

“How hurtful! I can never spend too much time with you, (Y/N)-chan,” he nudged her playfully with his elbow, letting out a small ‘oof’ when she pushed him back.

They got on the G-train, which was mostly empty around this time of night. Their car held them and two other girls from their school, who seemed to pay them little mind, aside from the occasional glances that were typical in Oikawa’s presence.

The brunette stared down his nose at her, “So. Are you ever gonna tell me why our brand new lady manager has an abnormally thorough knowledge of volleyball?” he questioned.

(Y/N) took a seat across from Oikawa. He made himself comfortable opposite her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Oikawa-san,” she said innocently.

Oikawa leaned forward in his seat.

“I saw your notebook. Your notes are way too detailed for anyone less than an expert. Did you or a family member or a friend or whatever play?”

Her gaze turned downcast. The train car was relatively empty, and he seemed genuine enough for her to softly reply, “I used to.”

There are two specific expressions (Y/N) saw the most of in the months following the incident.

One was less common. It was a thinly-veiled smugness, poorly hidden behind feigned sympathy. It was a look that said, “You got exactly what you deserved.”

The second was much more common, and on the days that made her want to lay in bed all day, seeing that expression plastered all around her like wallpaper just made her want to dig into the earth and make a home for herself there forever.

Pity.

It’s the same look every time. Their eyebrows go up, then furrow, finally slanting down as the realization dawns on them. Their mouth will drop open like they plan to say something, but no words come out because what are they supposed to say?

He must have seen the look of anguish on her face, because his expression morphed through each phase of that second type, word for word.

“You don’t play anymore because you won’t or because you--”

A dark shadow crossed her face, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Oikawa nodded, “Okay.” His pretty brown eyes rolled up to the ceiling in deep thought. “What’s your favorite cake flavor?”

(Y/N) blinked at him confusedly for a moment, then her expression shifted to one of realization, and she gave him a small smile, the most genuine he’d ever seen her wear since she arrived at Aoba Johsai.

“Red velvet!”

“That’s just chocolate with red food coloring.”

(Y/N) gasped loudly, “You take that back!”

Oikawa raised his hands in defense, “I’m sorry, I only speak facts. Is now a bad time to mention I love pineapple on pizza?”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped, “Are you serious? Do you even have taste buds, pretty boy?”

The taller male laughed and teasingly batted his lashes, “You think I’m pretty, (Y/N)-chan?”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t know how to tell you this, Oikawa, but everyone thinks you’re pretty. You literally have a fanclub. They bring you homemade cookies on a regular basis.”

He got up from his seat across from her, only to settle down in the seat beside her. They sat there, shoulders against each other’s. Oikawa Tooru smelled like mint and the breeze on a summer night and a little bit of man sweat, but that’s to be expected coming straight from practice. It was a very distracting few seconds.

“But I don’t care about everyone’s opinion, (Y/N)-chan, I want yours.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks buzzed with heat. Ugh, he’s unfairly cute, isn’t he? But! Even if she would never tell him, she remembered him from middle school. He didn’t remember her. A guy like Oikawa was probably flirting with her because she didn’t fall desperately at his feet. She wasn’t going to be a part of that game. Not now, not ever.

At the sound of her stop, she stood and made her way over to the door. Just forcing the blood in her cheeks down through sheer willpower, she said, “I’ll see you in school tomorrow, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa leaned back in his seat.

“Hey, (Y/N)? You’re not thinking I’m flirting with you because I’m some tail-chasing fuckboy, right? Because if you are,” he quirked a perfect eyebrow at her, “That’s hardly fair, is it?”

‘What? How did he know??’ she internally screamed, ‘He’s right, though. A lot of girls like him, but it’s not like he has a reputation for sleeping around or anything. Even if he did, that’s not for me to judge.”

(Y/N) braced herself against the open train doors. The cool night air blew into the train from behind her, ruffling her uniform skirt. She groaned.

“That smug face you make when you know you’re right? Yeah, I hate it.”

The setter’s hand came up to rest under his chin, “But you do have an opinion about my face?”

“Goodnight, Oikawa.”

“Text me when you get home!”

“I don’t--”

“Ask Iwa-chan for it! Goodnight, (Y/N)-chan!”

The train doors shut, and Oikawa sent her a wink through the glass doors before it departed. The breeze ruffled (Y/N)’s hair. There she stood, staring at the empty tracks. Rooting through her bag, she yanked her phone out and dialed a number.

“Wakatoshi, I’ve been a dumb hoe.”

“(Y/N), I told you you shouldn’t--”

“I shouldn’t belittle myself, even as a joke, I know, I’m sorry, Wakatoshi.”

She could feel him shaking his head in disapproval, “Right. Now, what’s your issue?”

Fingers fiddling with the hem of the borrowed oversized Seijoh sweatshirt, (Y/N) pressed her phone between her ear and shoulder.

“I accidentally made friends.”

Ushijima sighed on the other end of the line, “(Y/N), when I said to keep to yourself, I did not mean you had to become a total recluse. You may not want to hear this from me, but meeting new friends is a good thing.”

(Y/N) slowly shook her head, “They’re pretty popular, though, and the last thing I wanted since coming here was to call attention to myself.”

“You may have gotten some unwanted attention at your old school, but maybe you can start over at Aoba Johsai. If we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

“...are you using a meme to give me advice?”

“A what?”

“A meme, Wakatoshi. It’s a joke passed all over the internet. Come on, there’s no way you haven’t seen them, even accidentally.”

“I am unfamiliar with the term. Anyway, I was quoting renowned columnist and cartoonist Tim Kreider. I was trying to make you feel better.”

Though he couldn’t see it, (Y/N) smiled warmly at how hard he was trying to help.

“You did a great job, Wakatoshi. Hey, I just got home, I’ll call you back and we’ll talk all about your day. How’s that?”

“Alright, get inside safely.”

Upon hanging up with Ushijima, (Y/N)’s hand stopped just short of putting her phone away. Perhaps against her better judgement, she reluctantly sent one more text.

[SENT] To: Iwaizumi Hajime-Kun [8:37 pm]

- Admin Mango

#oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa tōru #ushijima #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

119 notes · View notes

joonsmagicstudio · 4 years

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Meet Me Where The Waves Touches The Sky: how are you?(II)

Note: I put a keep reading break but I am unsure if it is working, if there is no keep reading link then please let me know! I do not wish to bother anyone with long posts.

Story Description: We all have our issues, but some of us are sub-consciously pushing it away without realizing how deep under water we are. You don't realize the things around you aren't what used to be until you meet a celebrity struggling to live. Like the hypocrite you are, you help others without helping yourself first. But no one told you about helping others gives you this exhilarating feeling of being a saint. So for how long are you going to keep being a saint in a doctor's coat?

Genre: Angst, fluff (if you squint) and smut.

Pairing: You x Namjoon

Trigger Warning: It revolves heavily around suicide, depression and death. Please don’t read it if it is a sensitive topic for you. Also keep in mind it isn’t like ‘13 reasons why’. It takes place in more of an adult setting hence mature. It also has mature (+18) scene, alcohol consumption and occasional use of foul language hehe.

I am writing about suicide, death and depression not because I romanticize it or engage in it for others to partake. It is strictly for the purpose of writing a story to convey a message beyond these three words.

Story masterlist is here: MMWTWTTS

It had been a week since the café incident and you had forgotten about it already as you were busy going through profiles of mentally ill patients at your desk in your office. There was a soft knock at your door and you said come in, the receptionist from the counter stepped inside.

"Miss Y/L/N, there is a man asking for you. He had your business card and said that he could come by anytime." The receptionist told you, uneasiness was clear as day on her face. She couldn't see his face that was covered by the mask, sunglasses and cap but he seemed persistent on getting her to go and talk to the doctor. He even handed her the business card he received which finally urged her to move.

"Why are you so uneasy?" You set your files down on the table, uncrossing your legs and looked at her properly.

"N-nothing- he just looks skeptical, he is wearing a mask and a cap along with a long coat, so I just got a little suspicious." She replied, her eyes slightly wide with fear, but the mention of the outfit triggered something perhaps it was Namjoon that you met last week, you weren't too sure.

"I think I know that man, please send him in and also please bring 2 cup of coffee with a slice of cake please." You put the files back into the drawer and stood up.

"Yes of course, and what type of cake, Miss Y/L/N?"

"Just a simple vanilla cream cake would do." You walked over and sat down on the couch you always sat when you talked to patients.

"Right away, Miss." The receptionist bowed and left the room with a resonating click of the door.

Few minutes later the door opened, revealing the receptionist who held the plate of 2 coffee and a slice of cake, behind her Namjoon was there, dressed up exactly as the receptionist had described. The receptionist set the food and drinks on the center table and left quietly, closing the door behind her.

"So you came, please take a seat." You directed Namjoon who shyly stood by the entrance to the seat across you, "Please be comfortable, I ordered coffee and cake for you if you were hungry or thirsty."

Namjoon nodded his head in a silent way of saying thank you as he took off his coat, mask and cap and hung it on the coat hanger near the door before taking a seat. Now you couldn't help but admire that this man was none other than Namjoon and he looked a lot better than he did in the photos. However, what concerned you was the dark baggy eyes he had, dull skim that lacked proper shine, his face wasn't joyous as it was in the photo. He seemed...exhausted.

You decided to dive straight into business, "Let's start off light. Tell me your real name. Not your celebrity name but your real name. Keep in mind that this isn't a place where the audience is watching you. You don't have to act professional. Just be you." You wanted him to feel at ease, to confess, to feel like he wasn't being watched anymore, he seemed hesitant though, it was clear that he was so used to being a celebrity that he forgot what it felt like to be normal. Few seconds passed by in silence, Namjoon didn't reply, he simply stared at the floor so you took the initiative. You stood up and picked up the coffee that was for him and placed it in his hand before grabbing yours and sitting back down.

"It's okay, you aren't on camera." You spoke softly as you sipped your coffee. A common problem you noticed in all celebrities that they all got used to being a different person in front of cameras, they let cameras control their life. They let the cameras create a personality for them that they had to maintain. After all they had become business products of their company for the cameras.

"It's Kim Namjoon. That's my real name." He finally spoke up on hearing that there wasn't any camera anywhere, you took a mental note that the word camera affected him just like you had expected.

"Well Namjoon, it's nice to meet you. I'm Doctor Y/L/N." You gave him a moment before you moved on asking the next question, "How are you? Just be honest and tell me how are you feeling right now?"

Now to any one, 'how are you' would be the stupidest question, but the thing is that no one takes a moment to think how they are truly feeling, most of them just say that they are fine as they were trained to say that. They say that they are fine, when they actually aren't, when they actually are feeling the furthest away from fine. They want to spill, but they just cover it up with saying that they are fine since its too much of any effort to explain it or the other person wouldn't understand or even worse, they don't care. It's only a matter of time before it becomes too painful for them to say that they are fine.

Namjoon hesitated, you could see he wasn't fine, he was actually taking a moment to think, taking a moment to think where he should start off with. "I'm tired." He looked straight at you, his eyes reflected how much he had been holding in. He had been holding out for too long.

"You are tired of what?"

"Everything...Everything." Pain seeped through, tears slowly filled his eyes. He was cracking, it was hard for him to hold it back now. It was only a matter of time before he broke down completely. His hair that was once in a neat style had started falling down onto his face. You set the coffee down and moved to sit next to him. Most of the time, when a patient was going to break down, you would have handed them tissue papers, but you didn't do that, you had this feeling that it was much more than just breaking down, he looked like he wanted someone to hold him tight as he felt like falling apart. You were breaking a rule of not touching the patient but you couldn't give a shit right now, not when he was this close to breaking down. You really didn't expect him to break down easily, normally it take much more time for them to really unwind. You guessed he had kept a lot of things bottled up.

Truth be told, he reminded you of someone when you first saw him in real-life. They didn't look alike but it was just the way he carried himself that was similar. Always taking the burden of everything is what they both seemed to do. That is why you felt more drawn to Namjoon, more willing to push things out of boundary and all because you felt the need to.

You gently placed an arm around his shoulder and brought him into a long hug where he rested his head underneath your chin, a comforting one and you felt hot wet patches on your blouse, soft muffled sobs leaked out, he had broken down completely. Even though you didn't know what it felt like to be a celebrity, but you knew what it felt to be tired of everything, being tired of everything meant that you just wanted to close your eyes and forget about everything. You just wanted to be back at home, in your bed and not worry about anything. Being tired of everything meant that you wanted to let go of everything. You wanted to go home and have someone tell you that you worked hard today. Sometimes, you wanted to disappear.

"You are tired Namjoon, but did you know that you worked hard today. You did your best." You mumbled softly, stroking his back in a comforting manner. Namjoon felt vulnerable, he felt comfort for the longest time. He felt home, he felt like he could finally be loose. It was comforting for him to have someone who wasn't related to his work, related to popularity, even though you were someone he barely knew, he felt like you knew his darkest secret and that he could be comfortable with you. Those words you had said, 'You worked hard, you did your best.' Brought comfort to him, he had wanted to hear those words with true feeling, not the ones said automatically from his members, managers and all those people he worked with. God, he wished he could be in this moment for a long time.

"You know it's okay to close your eyes. Sleep. No one is here to tell you what to do anymore. Work doesn't matter here. You can be normal here." You gently pulled away and cupped his face to face you, his eyes were red and puffy, tears streaks across his streaks were fresh. You picked up a tissue paper from the tissue paper box underneath the center table and gently wiped his face clean of tears. You couldn't help but sigh and pull him into another comforting hug. Out of all the patients you had spoken with, he was the one that just needed someone to hold him. To tell him that everything was okay. That he could be free.

After a while you felt him go soft, his breathing had become stable and sobs weren't heard anymore. He had fallen asleep, he must have been so tired of everything to just fall asleep. So you gently rested him on the side of the couch, placed a pillow beneath him so he wouldn't wake up with neck pain. You stood up walking over to a cupboard in your office that contained blankets, being a psychiatrist, you needed to have certain things like a teddy bear, blanket, medicine tea bags or comforting things to comfort a patient. You grabbed the blanket quietly and placed it over him so he would stay warm. You looked at him for a while, he did look peaceful, free of any stress while sleeping, you almost wished that you could just take him away from this stressful celebrity life.

You checked the time, it was afternoon, almost an hour has passed since he came and you still had more files to look though so you closed the blinds in the office to that light wouldn't disturb him, you then switched on the dim table lamp and continued working, silently, so you wouldn't stir him from his slumber.

It was funny, funny that within just 2 meetings, an hour or a little more of meeting each other, you already wanted to shield him from the harsh things in the world. You wanted him to be happy even though you barely knew him, even though the two of you were from different worlds you just wanted to fix him.

#kpop #kpop imagines #bts namjoon x reader #bts #ateez fanfic #bts fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #kpop fluff #kpop angst #bts namjoon #bts imagines

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shoutoismybaby · 5 years

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Obedient

HI everyone! This wasn't requested but I recently watched Ella Enchanted and got inspired. Basically, the reader's quirk is to do everything they are told. Enjoy!!!

***

The days before your 4th birthday was filled with restless anticipation. Your whole family was incredibly excited to see whos quirk you would inherit, Your fathers superspeed or your mother's forcefield. Inheriting a mix of both of them was an option as well, an option that made you dream about being a hero.

A dream that was instantly crushed the moment your mother told you to ’dig in’ to your birthday cake. To which, your body moved on its own; digging your chubby fingers into the cake before stuffing the pieces into your mouth. It wasn't until your mother shouted a worried “Stop!” that your body finally gave you back control. By this time, the whole table of your friends had broken into giggled, while the only thing you had broken into was tears.

That day you learned two extremely important things. One, that quirks weren't the blessings everyone enjoyed pretending they were. And two, that people were cruel and would take advantage of you in any way they could.

***

You continued your life up until high school with a limited amount of friends. Those “friends” only being your teachers and parents. Once in high school, however, your popularity skyrocketed as the word about your quirk spread. In the first couple weeks, it began with random kids in your class coming up to test out your quirk. Only to evolve into multiple students in one day demand you complete their work by the end of the first month.

At times you wondered if things would be different if you had attended a different school. You didn't even want to attend UA anyway, but when that stupid advertisement popped up on your TV with All Might excitedly shouting,

“Enter your application to UA today!”

There wasn't much you could do to stop your body from filling out an application and turning it in an hour later. It didn't end up being that big of a shock that you ended up in class 1-C, considering your quirk really wasn't suited for hero work. Though it sure was just amazing at forcing you to stay up till ungodly times to finish the homework that was supposed to belong to everyone else in your class.

Well, there was one person who had never used your quirk against you. It was probably important to take into account that neither of you had actually had a conversation, but it didn't stop you from appreciating that he seemed to be the only one respecting your bodily autonomy.

In all honesty, Hitoshi hadn't really taken the time to acknowledge you. Not that he disliked you, but the boy was mostly accustomed to people avoiding him once they discovered his quirk, so he didn't find it necessary to even try making friends. It wasn't until 3 months into the school year that Shinsou started to notice you. The time that you sat across from him at the lunch table that he usually had to himself.

Peeking up at your pink cheeks from under his indigo tuff, he realized that you weren't attempting to make any contact with him, your incessant staring at your plate made that extremely clear. Still, he was having a hard time figuring out why you had chosen to sit across from him, and why the fact that you weren't trying to talk to him made him feel disappointed. Even with all of the thoughts whirring in his head, Shinsou remained quite, and the two of you ate in silence.

In the days following, your existence became more and more prevalent. His attention was brought to you as you began to exist near him more often as time went by. When the class was allowed to change seats, you chose to sit to his right. During passing time, you could be seen in a 5ft radius of the tall boy, and you even began to sit at the same table as him in the library after school when you both chose to study. This is when Shinsou started to get bothered. What could you possibly want from him? Someone to laugh at? Learn his secrets and spread them like wildfire?

It was a week into you somehow appearing everywhere he went in school that he decided to get to the bottom of everything. You were currently sitting across from him at the library table when he cleared his throat, drawing your attention from your book to him.

“Tell me,” he paused seeing your head whip up, eyes wide. Remembering your quirk, he pauses before rephrasing.

“Why are you hanging around me so much?” He asks. The way your face warmed up only made him continue nervously in an attempt to not scare you off.

“Not that I'm bothered by your presence, everyone else just tries to avoid me.” He looks down and rubs the back of his neck nervously, why did he feel so anxious about this? He shouldn't care if he scared you off, if he did then you weren't worth his time to begin with.

“Um, don't be mad, but that's why I’ve followed you around recently.” The way your gentle voice squeaked out caused his face to flush immediately as he looked at your anxious posture. “Umm, I mean the thing that people leave you alone. I just want people to leave me alone.” Your voice then trailed off and he scoffed in response. So you were using him.

“Why would you want everyone to leave you alone? You're always surrounded by friends.” He stated mockingly, “You should be glad people don't avoid you like the plague because of your quirk.”

“Y-you know what my quirk is, right?” You stuttered, your face feeling as if your veins were filled with lava.

“You do everything you told to right? Why does that matter?” He rolled his eyes. Why was he being such an asshole? Couldn't he just understand? You weren't avoided because of your quirk, you were being abused because of it. You were exhausted all the time because of it. Couldn't he see how easy it was for people to take advantage of you?! Was he really as self-centered as everyone else? Was he really the jerk everyone made him out to be?

“Yeah, how do you think people react to knowing you'll do anything they tell you to?” You asked angrily, hot tears gathered in your eyes as they faced his. “Those people aren't my friends. They're using me!” At this point, he’s silent. HIs stoic face isnt letting you gauge what's going through his head. If only you could tell how his veins froze over as the pieces fell together in his head. “Until I started following you around I was staying up until 4 AM doing all of their homework, I had to give them my lunch money, the bracelet I got for my birthday last year. They just want me to do things for them, they don't even care about me! So, I thought maybe if I befriended the guy who everyone deemed unapproachable because of his quirk, they'd leave me alone. I wouldn't be so tired and hungry all the time. I’d have a genuine friend.” You released a shaky breath and shoved your books into your bag, trying to blink away the tears running down your face. Why did you ever think everyone else was wrong about him? “You're the only person who never told me to do anything for them. The only person. In our whole class. I thought that maybe, the way everyone thought about you was completely baseless. That you’d understand being treated unfairly because of your quirk. But you're just as self-centered as everyone else.” You stood up from your chair and slung your bag over your shoulder. Of course, he wouldn't understand. He didn't have a quirk that could be used against him.

Guilt washed over him as you started to walk away. How had he not noticed how your tired eyes reflected his own? That you weren't using him selfishly, you were desperate. Maybe if he hadn't closed everyone off so much, he would have noticed what you were going through. Maybe he would’ve noticed your existence as an attempt at initiating a friendship. Yet, because he thought the worst in everyone, he ruined his chance. It only took him a minute to snap out of his thoughts and quickly abandon his schoolwork to rush after you.

Passing through the library doors he looked out into the hallway, seeing you standing only a few feet in front of where he was, you stood with another student from your class. A nervous look covered your face as the student held a stack of papers,

“Do these for me, they're due next week.” They say, a devilish smile spread across their face. Anger boiled inside of Shinsou as your eyes dulled and arms extended and took the work.

“Stop,” Hitoshi demanded, causing your arms to stop, leaving the papers to scatter on the floor. Your eyes become animated once again as you turn to him in shock. The other student, however, hadn't recognized his voice and began to respond before turning to face him.

“Hey, who do you-” their face went from one of annoyance to blank and mindless within a second of opening their mouth. You could recognize what Hitoshi's quirk looked like when being used anywhere.

“Apologize to (l/n), tell her she doesn't have to do your work and never bother her again,” Shinsou says to them. They turn to you immediately and robotically begin to talk,

“I apologize (l/n), don’t do my work,” they say,

“One more thing,” Shinsou adds, drawing your eyes back to his glowing ones. “Tell all of your friends to never bother her again unless they actually want to pursue a friendship with her. Now get out of here.” Your classmate does as they're told, slowly making they're way down the hall. It isnt until their body disappears behind the corner that you open your mouth.

“Shinsou,”

“Look, I’m sorry. I was being an ass to you, and you didn't deserve that. And you're right, I was being self-centered. I thought that you were like everyone else when you were giving me the benefit of doubt. I want to be your friend, and give those assholes what they deserve for treating you so poorly. So, would you forgive me?” He asks, his lanky body bowing in front of you. It causes your face to heat up, but you smile.

“Okay, I forgive you. But you owe me.” You say, crossing your arms.

“Oh?” He asks, standing back up. “What do I owe you?”

“Ice cream, you’ve got to take me out for ice cream.” You say, excitement bubbling in your chest for a reason you couldn't pinpoint. Was it because you were making your first real friend? Or maybe that look Shinsou was giving you? EIther way, his mouth pulled into a smile that reminded you of Todoro before he responded.

“Okay, princess. Let's go get ice cream then.” He turns to head back into the library to grab his belongings and your face turns into an oven.

“Right now?!” You stutter,

“Yeah, why not? I’d rather get this whole owing you thing done and over with,” he says,

The next day you were met with your whole class standing in front of the door when you walked in. Never before had so many people apologized to you at once. It wasnt until your bracelet was gently set back into your hands that you started crying.

“I apologize for everything I’ve done to you. Honest. So please forgive me!” The girl who had taken it from you begged, slipping the bracelet back onto your wrist you smiled through the tears.

“I forgive you!”

“You know you're too forgiving, right?” The deep voice sounded from behind you, a voice you knew was behind all of the chaos. You just nodded before turning to face his tired eyes.

“Yeah, I know. Thank you though, Shinsou.” You wipe at your eyes, you feel his hand on your head ruffle your hair as he snickers.

“No problem princess.” He sighed, walking past you and to his seat. “Go back to your seats.” He says to your classmates, who scurry under his command. You aren't sure if any of them are actually under his control, or just terrified of what he would do if they didn't listen. “ and (L/n),”

“Yeah?” You ask,

“Stop doing everything you’re told to.”

“Shinsou I can't just not-”

“Sit down then.” You don't move when he says this, and a rush of energy flurries in your stomach.

“SHINSOU YOU GENIUS!”

***

Requests are open!

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha shinsou

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chiclet-go-boom · 4 years

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fracture 5: push

The cloth walls do nothing to cut the cacophony and Rey has had to shuffle closer than she wants get to make sure her translator picks up everything. The smell of the creature’s skin is a horrible mix of burnt oil, the sickly sweet fried dalaba fruit that is so popular here and something that might have died a generation ago but is still trying to crawl around. She keeps swallowing and hopes desperately that if her own hastily eaten rations makes a reappearance that it will be perceived as a compliment.

The smell might even be part of the goods on display for all she knows. Vision narrows for a second and she jerk herself back a little, her ears ringing. Probably not a good idea to faint in the thing’s shop.

“Too cheap, waste of breath that is not yours,” the being chitters at her, three eyes narrowed across the plascrete containers that have been stacked to make a rude counter. Its single antenna - is that an antennae or some kind of lure? - bobs in the non-existent breeze as if in emphasis. “More value than you carry in birthing pouch, go throw your cubes on the ground where is that is not here. Waste of water.” The lure-thing jerks upwards in what might be dismissal, encouragement to keep haggling or even a signal to mate for all she knows.

Rey clutches the third rate translator module she’s using even tighter but it doesn’t spit anything more encouraging at her. At least it works, even if all she’s getting is the sinking feeling that what she’s been authorized to use out of their remaining funds isn’t going to be anywhere enough for the fuel they need. This is the fourth merchant she’s approached and he’s even less willing to deal than the others. She’s running out of time.

“That’s extortion and you know it. I need at least a half kiloton and I’ll pay you upfront in hard credit chip. You throw in the delivery because you want your mother to like you.”

It’s only mid afternoon to her but nearing local midnight here and the thrust from ship day to planet night is messing with her head. The harsh lights from the spaceport a half klick away are bright enough to keep the worst of the thieves out of the main areas in this shanty market but she’s not stupid enough to trust her luck farther into the shadows. Its limited her options.

She’s been at this for too long but she can’t go back without something to show for it, she just can’t. Her translator chitters her latest offering and she leans in closer, holding her breath to keep the stench at bay. “I can always find somebody else more reasonable, you know, and all those beautiful credits will go to someone else. You don’t want that now, do you?”

The thing booms something back and a few seconds later she gets the relay. “Sold mothers after I cracked egg second time. I sell full only, kilo topped and you pay proper. Credit okay. Delivery at second sun, no sooner.” The bobble on its head waggles and she finds she’s tracing it with her eyes. Maybe it is a lure. She drags her eyes away and leans on her staff with both hands as if she’s considering it.

“A full kilo then, credits only when my ship is fueled and ready to lift, delivery in the next hour.”

Afterwards she blames it on the fact they’ve been on half rations for weeks, that she’d thought the odd distortions were because of hunger, the overwhelmingly foreign smell of the crowd, the food, the very ground, the lassitude that comes from being stretched too thin for too long.

“You know he’s cheating you. Why are you letting him get away with it?”

Dark, sweet like spice. It rolls over her skin and she closes her eyes in sudden panic. When did he get here? How did she not notice?

She swallows and risks a glance over her shoulder. Three long steps away he’s in full regalia, cowl over his head but for some reason his mask is still in his hand. His entire face is in shadow but wherever he is, the lights catch stray glitter in his eyes. He seems relaxed, bored even as he watches with his head tilted to the side as if curious. Her mouth goes dry and her throat tries to close.

The Supreme Leader of the First Order is here, watching her trying to get them all a little farther away from his vendetta. No doubt grading her efforts.

She turns back to the merchant, feeling his black gaze boring through the back of her skull.

“Is it a deal?” she pushes desperately.

“Make him give you two kilos. That bucket of bolts eats fuel like you drink water.”

The translator spits again. “Next hour impossible. First sun and you pay now, twenty percent for rush rush smuggler fuel and you go back to stars, waste all breath you want.”

Her frustration spikes with agitation; at the need to get this deal done, any deal done, because the truth is they’re nearly out of spendable credits and docking fees are by the hour in this rat bitten sand forsaken place and it’s racking up every single minute she stands here. Leia has been calling in decades-old favors for days, scrambling to get her aristocratic hands on more in time to actually do them some good. She doesn’t have another twenty percent to give and she wouldn’t even if she had it.

But they also have to get out of here. It’s now gone from urgent to imperative.

She hears him move closer which isn’t helping her concentration, not with the lift of the fine hair on the back of her neck that is part atavistic fear of things moving just out of sight but also part tremble of simple awareness. She doesn’t look. She won’t look.

Dark hair and darker eyes and his voice that is so calm right up until the moment it’s not.

Kylo. Ben.

She takes a breath, straightening with nervous tension, knowing that it gives her away but unable to help it. Tells herself to ignore the warmth starting to radiate at her back, the bulk of his body stepping up to dwarf hers with a rustle of dark fabric that only she can hear. She can take care of herself and she can take care of this. She’s not anyone’s easy meal.

And suddenly he’s at her shoulder, leaning down. He’s dropped his hood and his cheek hovers near hers, a bare whisper from touching. He’s looking ahead the same as she is, as if they’re in this together.

“You can make him give whatever you need. Go on. Convince him. Push.”

She freezes, fingers clenched on her staff and she has no idea how that looks. Her eyes are too wide, she knows they are and for that second she is helpless to what she feels. So close. Too karking close.

The stupid, frightening, insane urge to shift back the half step it would take, to touch. He’s right there. She could turn, fist a hand in his clothing, pull him in. Rip him from wherever he is into this reality, this moment. He’d be here.

His mouth starts to move near her temple, near nuzzling her hair as if he’s thinking the same thing.

“Even the Jedi bowed to necessity,” he breathes, barely loud enough to be heard over the clatter of the market, the press of business shifting outside this dirty little stall. “Ask for three.”

The antennae in her locked vision wobbles from side to side and she has no idea what it means when the two outer eyes close entirely, leaving only the central one to stare at her. “Twenty five percent, or get out of way. Agree, no agree, other eggs need to hatch.”

She digs her fingers into her staff as if it’s the only stable thing in the world and a wave of despair at all the things that are out of her control washes up from nowhere.

It’s not fair, it’s never been fair. It will never be fair. The entire galaxy over, every junk market, every back alley in every city on every world, there is always Unkar Plutt looking at her through the bars, holding things out of reach, charging more each time and giving less and less.

Yet — Kylo Ren stands at her back now. Kylo Ren, with the crushing weight of the entire First Order stretching behind him in lightyear wings of blackness and she stares across dust and dirt and distance at this grasping backworld creature who thinks it can drive her to her knees, because from where it stands it must seem pitifully obvious that she has no other choices.

“Three kilos,” she breathes out. “To be delivered in one hour. Half credits will be paid when the ship is ready to lift.”

The beaten little machine in her hand has no time to cough out anything at all before this world’s junk boss is answering her back. A heartbeat later, the translator crackles. “Three kilos, one hour. Half credits paid then, yes, yes. Agreed.”

She exhales and it’s only then as the seconds tick past that she realizes what she’s just done, just what he told her to do. Her mind stutters with a weird sort of horror and then stops entirely because she didn’t mean to do that, she didn’t intend that at all. She was just… she didn’t mean it.

But she’s rolled its mind, that simply, that quickly. Just because she needed what he had, desperate to have it and get away from here, get away from him, tired of waiting for something that will never come. Because he whispered in her ear and he smells of smoke and honey and everything she never thought she’d ever want.

She stands near paralyzed with just how easy it was.

She can all but taste his satisfaction, dark and pleased. His breath tickles her ear. “Try not to explode my father’s ship.”

And he’s gone.

#fanfiction #reylo #kylo ren #rey

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korora12 · 5 years

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Ladybug Week Day 7 - Bookstore

Day 6 Day 8

Word count: 2201

Ghosts in the Closet and Other Scary Stories. Grimm Eclipse. The Lone Hatchling: A Qedem’s Story of Overcoming Hardship. Cyber-Ninja Vs. Zombie Cats. That one sounded silly, Ruby thought as she perused the book titles before her. She wondered if Blake would like it.

Ruby reached for the book, only to bump into someone else as she did. An apology had already slipped out of her mouth before she saw who she’d hit. It was a girl in a short, shoulderless dress and leggings, with red hair and long, donkey-like ears.

Ruby recognized her in an instant, even though she hadn’t seen the girl – no, woman – in years. “Penny? Is that you?”

The woman in question startled, then peered closely back. “Friend Ruby? How fortuitous and unlikely to see you here! You’ve gotten so much taller!” She spoke with the same enthusiastic and precise tone that she had when Ruby had first met her.

Ruby chuckled. “Yeah, humans tend to do that.” She found herself suddenly lifted in the air as strong arms wrapped her in an unbreakable grip.

“I haven’t seen you in years! How have you been?”

Ruby’s bones groaned in protest. “I missed you too Penny, but you’re crushing me. Please let go.” When her feet had returned to the ground, she took a moment to stretch out her aching rib cage. “I’ve been good. What are you doing out here? This system’s the last place I’d expect to run into you. Did you leave Atlas again?”

Penny shook her head, her hands still on Ruby shoulders. “No, I’m actually here for work. What about you, Friend Ruby? What brings you out this far?”

“Freelance work,” Ruby answered. “I finally got my own ship. Her name is Crescent Rose.”

“Oh,” Penny started to shake Ruby in excitement, “I’m so happy for you. That’s just what you always wanted!”

“Tha-a-anks Penny,” Ruby managed to get out before Penny stopped shaking her. “I actually came to this shop with my girlfriend. You should come meet her.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Penny said, even as Ruby was already dragging her along by her wrist.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It wasn’t a particularly large bookstore that they’d found themselves in. It was located in downtown Evernight, the capital of Eltanin and finest (read: only) city in ten parsecs. Squeezed in-between a local furniture shop and a Mistrali restaurant, Blake had found that, despite its abysmal organizational system, Tukson’s Book Trade was one of the best places to find rare and unusual books.

The store’s small size meant she would’ve needed to be completely ignoring her surroundings to not see her girlfriend heading straight towards her with an unfamiliar woman in hand.

No, wait, Blake recognized her. She looked like Penny, the synthetic she’d met in the other universe they’d traveled to. The two of them had spoken briefly, that Penny interested in an entire species of beings like her, but aside from both being amongst the only three people still sober after the queen’s reception party, they hadn’t had much in common.

“Blake!” Ruby shouted, a completely unnecessary act in such a quiet place. Fortunately, the owner seemed to be the only other person in the store. “I want you to meet someone.” Coming to a halt, Ruby gestured dramatically at her companion. “This is Penny. She’s, like, my oldest friend.”

Blake took a moment to look her over. She was a bit smaller than Ruby, with short hair wrapped up in a bow and small bag slung over her shoulder. Everything about her, save for her second set of ears and her giant smile, seemed small, giving her an overall appearance of youth. Of course, she was clearly a FAUNIS, so apparent age had nothing to do with actual age. By comparison, Ruby was no giant, and she occasionally gave off a false air of naïveté, but she never looked as childish as Penny did. Still, the two of them standing together, side-by-side and grinning like idiots, churned something in her stomach. They looked like peas in a pod, to borrow a Valean saying, like they belonged together. She fought the urge to look away.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Blake said. “Ruby never mentioned you.”

“What?” Ruby glanced back and forth between the two of them. “I must’ve mentioned her at some point.”

“Not that I remember,” Blake countered.

“That’s alright,” Penny said. “It was a long time ago, and we didn’t really know each other for all that long.”

“Mhmm,” Ruby hummed, settling her gaze on Blake. “I met her back on Patch, when I was a little girl. It was shortly after my mom died, and Penny was just the friend I needed to help me through everything.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” Penny rejoined. “You helped me quite a bit too, you know. I’d only recently been freed from my previous duties, and found myself quite uncertain what to do next. I may well have remained floundering if not for your wise words.”

Freed? Was she referring to the FAUNIS liberation? That would make her older than Blake, though probably not by much, given her behavior.

“Oh stop,” Ruby said, blushing and wriggling in place. “I was, like, six. It couldn’t have been that wise.”

Blake put her arm around Ruby’s shoulder and pulled her in tight, ending her squirming.

“I’ve been living with Ruby for almost a year now,” Blake announced.

“Yes,” Penny said, “Ruby mentioned you two were dating. I’m thrilled to meet the woman who’s captured her heart.” She grabbed Blake’s free hand with both of hers and began vigorously shaking it up and down. “And another FAUNIS at that. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

Despite Blake’s metallic skeleton, it still felt like this woman was about to rip her arm off in her enthusiasm. When at last she stopped, Blake had to shake her hand to regain its feeling.

A staredown commenced, Blake’s stern silence versus Penny’s cheerful smile, until Ruby finally broke the tension.

“So, Penny, what brings you to Tukson’s?”

“I’m here to purchase a book,” she replied, removing just such an item from her bag. Enemy of Steel was the title, the first of a very popular series of crime novels. “It’s a gift for General Ironwood.”

“General?” Blake asked. “Are you in the military, then?”

“That’s correct. Junior Lieutenant Penny Polendina, Atlas 32nd Division, at your service.” She sketched a brief salute.

Atlas had a tendency to rely on military might to maintain control of its colonies and Eltanin, new, volatile, and politically complicated as it was, was of particular interest to every kingdom. It wasn’t too surprising to hear that Atlas forces were in the city, though the presence of a general was a bit unexpected. Even less expected was that Penny was a member of said military. The Atlas government had made heavy use of FAUNIS to bolster its armed forces back when they were considered property, but since their liberation, most FAUNIS had fled the military for a calmer, less deadly lifestyle. Very few had willingly returned to active service. Even less obtained a rank as high as Penny claimed to have.

“How long have you been serving?” Blake asked.

“All my life,” Penny answered. “Except for a few years after the Liberation, during which I met Ruby.”

Blake shook her head. She couldn’t imagine willingly returning to the people that had enslaved her. “Why would you go back?” she asked. “I’ve talked to other FAUNIS who were forced into Atlas’s military, and they all have horror stories about what they went through.”

Penny’s smile disappeared, leaving her looking serious for the first time since Blake had met her. “My decision to return was complicated and personal; it took years to make. But whatever you might have heard about Atlas military, there are good people there too, and they’re trying to do good work.” She waved her book around. “General Ironwood is a good man of fine character. He’s looked out and cared for me for most of my life and he’s earned my respect a thousand times over.”

“Okay!” Ruby declared, looking about ready to jump between the two. “We’re hitting on some pretty serious topics for a first meeting. Blake, have you found a book you like?”

Blake allowed the topic change, nodding and pulling a book she’d been eyeing off the shelf.

“Great! I’ve got what I want and Penny’s got what she wants. Let’s all go pay for our new books.”

Blake continued to hold on to Ruby’s shoulder, letting herself be dragged along by the smaller girl.

As their purchases were rung up by a very bemused-looking man who had probably heard every word they’d said, Ruby and Penny exchanged contact information, promising to catch up at a later date. The three left the shop together, at which point Penny went in one direction and Ruby and Blake another.

“Blake,” Ruby began, looking up at her from under Blake’s arm as they walked, “are you… jealous?”

Blake inhaled sharply. Is that what this was? The roiling in her stomach every time she thought of Penny being anywhere near Ruby, of the past the two had shared, was that jealousy? She’d never been jealous of someone before, always thought herself above that. She wasn’t sure what to do with it now that it had reared its head.

Amusement flickered across Ruby’s face. “You are, aren’t you?” Ruby laughed and Blake felt herself warm. Whether in anger, embarrassment, or shame she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t like this particular laugh.

Ruby must’ve noticed, because she quickly stopped. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t laugh at you. It’s just, you have nothing to be jealous of. I’ll admit I had a bit of a crush on her when I was little—” despite her attempts at reassurance, Ruby’s words were a lance through Blake’s core; she was finding that she very much detested the feeling of jealousy “—but she’s way too old for me to be serious about that now.”

That held up Blake’s thought process as she tried to line up the idea of the child-like woman she’d met with this new information. “How old are we talking?” she asked.

“I never asked exactly,” Ruby answered, “but she says she was one of the first FAUNIS ever made. So she’s at least 200.”

Blake froze in her tracks, turning her head back in a futile attempt to pick Penny out of the crowd of people on the street. She suddenly felt sick, and not because of jealousy this time. She’d just been incredibly rude to an elder. And not just any elder, but one of the oldest members of her species. After everything she’d survived, everything she must’ve gone through, now she had to put up with some upstart kid’s misplaced emotions. She was appalled; growing up, she would’ve been lucky to get away with a swat of the ears for such disrespect.

She finally let go of Ruby.

“I… really screwed up, didn’t I?” she said, more a statement than a question. “She was your friend, and I was so rude to her.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Ruby offered, “I’m not even sure she noticed. Her understanding of social nuance has never been great. Too much time spent around materia, I think.”

Blake shook her head. “That doesn’t make it okay. I need to apologize to her.”

“Well,” Ruby offered, “you can come with me when I meet up with her next. As long as you promise to play nice.”

Blake felt herself warm in well-deserved shame and bowed her head. “I’m sorry you had to put up with me like that.”

Ruby smiled, sidling up close and planting a kiss on her cheek. “You’re forgiven.” She bounced backwards, holding up the brown paper bag with her purchases inside. “Hey, I got you something.” She opened the bag and pulled out a book, holding it out for Blake to take. She’d been too busy glaring at Penny to notice what Ruby had gotten earlier, so she had no idea what to expect.

The cover had a cartoonish depiction of a woman dressed all in black in an alleyway, about to be attacked by a litter of decomposing streetcats. “Cyber-Ninja Vs. Zombie Cats? They had this there?” Blake was surprised to find herself tearing up a bit as she was hit by a burst of nostalgia. “This was one of the first books I ever read. I could probably quote it front-to-back I read it so many times.” She flipped through the pages, looking at the illustrations at the beginning of each chapter. She could vividly remember hiding under her covers in the dead of night, reading and rereading the book by the light of the moon.

“It’s a good book, then? I grabbed it on a whim, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Oh, it’s terrible,” Blake answered. “Incredibly cheesy and cliché, but in the best possible way.” She flipped the book closed and wrapped Ruby in a hug. “Thank you. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Ruby returned the hug. “That’s easy. You were yourself, and that’s amazing enough to be worth everything.”

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #penny polendina #ladybug #ladybug rwby #ladybug (rwby)#ladybugweek #fanfiction #my writing #The Last Frontier #space au #Ladybugweek2K19

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6v6taeminisloveshineeworld · 5 years

Text

Body & Soul x Taemin

Genre: Supernatural, Romance

Summary: Set during SIRIUS era you are a Japanese fan of Taemin's and you go to his final concert fulfilling all of your dreams. But what happens when you meet by chance and he's not who you thought. This story uncovers the truth, is Taemin human?

Word Count: 7.7k+

Pairing: Reader (Yuki Sakamaki) x Taemin

Part 2

"Taemin-san, Kakkoii!" (Cool) The sound of applause was deafening as Shawols said goodbye to Taemin. It was his third day in Tokyo and he was now on his final thirty-second SIRIUS Concert. "HOLY WATER, HOLY WATER..." His voice was that of an angel's and before the curtains closed, he cupped his small elegant hands around his mouth and shouted: "I am so happy!"

The tears in his eyes made Yuki Sakamaki tear up as well. It was hard to hold back her emotions when he displayed them so openly like this. Selfishly in Yuki's heart, she wanted him to stay in Japan with her forever but at least for two times in her nineteen years of life she was able to see him in person on this tour. First in Hiroshima on the twenty-ninth when he'd worn that silly, adorable tiger outfit and then again today. Getting two tickets was the most amazing surprise and Yuki thanked her best friend Azuma for the second ticket. The curtains were closed now and Yuki shakily got up from her seat. 'What's This Feeling' was playing in the background as fans all started to file out of the concert hall, their faces were filled with pure awe. "Sugoi ne!" (Awesome) one girl yelled to her friend as they walked past her. "I loved Mars the most!" Said one lady in her mid-sixties beside Yuki. Yuki smiled at her, it always made her happy that people of all ages and genders loved Taemin-san as much as she did. Yuki turned on her phone when she was outside the auditorium. Instantly it began to vibrate with messages from her older sister Kumiko who would have given anything to be there with her but was unfortunately stuck at college abroad in America. Their father owned a specialty candy store with many popular fandom Items from Anime toys to K-pop merchandise. It was getting to be a quite popular store in several cities and Kumiko was going to college in New York for business. Soon she would be running the store there. "I was listening on stream!" I can't believe you are still alive after that! I was blown away as usual by how amazing Taemin-sama sounded!" Yuki laughed at her sister's use of sama (lord) as an honorific for Taemin. Her sister was overjoyed when she heard that Taemin would like to be called sama as an honorific in a recent fansign. "Yuki-chan I am so happy for you. Call me immediately when you get home I want to know how it felt to be in his presence." Yuki looked at the time it was already getting late and because of the crazy rainy weather they had been having lately (no thanks to Taemin's power to make it rain wherever he went) it was already pitch-black outside. She dialed for a cab to take her to her hotel but suddenly remembered what she was missing. "Ah! My lightstick." I must have left it on my seat. Turning back Yuki ran into the concert hall and back to her row, letting out a gasp of relief when she found her pearl aqua diamond lightstick still on the red cushioned seat. She looked around the room. Everyone had left already except for one man in a black bucket hat. Yuki held in a gasp because the man looked like Taemin and he was leaving the hall through the red-lit exit door close to the stage. A rush of adrenaline burst through Yuki's veins and even though she thought she would be crazy to follow him she knew she couldn't have seen it wrong. Yuki opened the door and looked around outside. Everyone was in the front of the building taking pictures with Taemin's SIRIUS white van so it was very quiet back here. Yuki remembered Taemin saying that he liked to take walks right after concerts to burn off his remaining energy and look at his fans happy faces. She wondered if this was such a time and if it was, would she be lucky enough to spot him when no one else had before? Yuki walked closer to the front of the building where she would be able to have a perfect view of fans taking pictures but remain unseen. If Taemin was anywhere it would be here. "I guess just the presence of that doppelganger's charming aura would frazzle even the most sensible of people," a voice said from the shadows. Yuki turned around and her eyes widened when the figure came closer into the light of the full moon above. His hat was gone now. Even though the man wore a black mask concealing the bottom half of his face she knew that his eyes were undeniably Taemin's. He pulled his black hair out of his eyes revealing a pale forehead. Her brain was having a hard time registering how it could be possible to change his hair from blonde on stage to black in so short a time. "Taemin-san, I am so happy to see you," Yuki said with a slight bow as she tried not to act like a stalking lunatic in front of him. "How did you change your hair?" Taemin pulled off his mask revealing his full lips and the small black mole she loved so much on the right side of his nose. Up close like this, she saw that he truly didn't need any makeup to show his mesmerizingly handsome beauty. Yuki pulled herself together if she lost her nerve now she would regret it forever. "Taemin-san, I just wanted to tell you that you are the biggest inspiration in my life. Thank you for pursuing your dreams to the fullest and for always pushing yourself to become even greater. You bring joy to all of us and I want you to know that I love you." Yuki blushed as she said this last part, but she never looked away from his eyes and she was so happy that her voice hadn't wavered either. "I know you can't take a picture with me because of the rules but please sign this," she said taking out her SIRIUS pamphlet and handing it to him with a pen from her SIRIUS bag with all of the little mini Taemin pins she had collected on it. She hoped he found it cute and not embarrassing. Taemin laughed while taking the booklet and pen gently from her hands. It was like a song his laughter. She wished she could pause this moment and never leave his presence. Taemin looked up at her his eyes changed in an instant from warm brown to deep crimson and Yuki covered her mouth in shock. "Be careful what you wish for Yuki Sakamaki," he said in her mind. "I may really decide not to let you go." Yuki felt paralyzed by those beautiful crimson eyes. She didn't move as Taemin brought his hand to her face brushing his thumb across her cheek, the cool metal of his ring making her shiver. He pulled her chin closer to his face. But his aura wasn't the same as the Taemin Yuki had seen on stage. He opened his mouth and two small fangs formed from his perfect set of white glistening teeth. "You're a vampire!" Yuki said in disbelief. "Does that mean you don't want my autograph?" Vampire Taemin said with the most seductive smile she had ever seen. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked, moving his hand to her shoulder. "I should be, but I'm not." Yuki admitted silently since she knew he heard her. "I've always believed you to be otherworldly," She said with a laugh. "I guess I was right." Yuki's heart raced faster as Taemin pressed his lips to her neck, his fangs brushing her skin gently before coming down hard and piercing her. Yuki let out a scream at the sudden pain, but it soon turned into a moan as he began to suck her blood. His hand traveled from her shoulder to the small of her back pulling her closer and she let herself fall into him as if it were a kiss. He removed his fangs licking the droplets of blood left behind with the tip of his tongue. Yuki trembled at the heat he emanated around her and tugged him closer. He came near to her ear and whispered "Don't mistake me for my mortal shadow-self again," his breath on her ear was a feather-light kiss as he said, "we are quite different him and I. If you're smart, you'll forget about both of us." Then he was gone and all that was left behind was Yuki's SIRIUS booklet that he'd placed in her hands with the note: Meet me in Shukkeien Garden if your curiosity gets the best of you. - Francesco.

Yuki had sworn to herself that she would not go to him but two days later she found herself taking a flight to Hiroshima and making her way to Shukkeien Garden. She read and reread Taemin’s Francesco’s note through the entire hour and a half flight and rode a bus the rest of the way. The garden was a paradise of miniature trees and a beautiful pond at its center. Small pink buds clung to a few branches she passed as she made her way through the circular path and caught sight of a tea house ahead. Before she could decide whether to make her way to it alone or stay on the path and wait, Francesco appeared beside her as if he’d apparated there.

“You came,” Francesco’s hair was still ebony black but this time it fell over his forehead and into his luminous blue eyes. His contacts made her wonder again for the millionth time if she had been mistaken over Taemin being a vampire and maybe the red eyes were contacts and she was being played by some very elaborate prank but now that she was here with him again she had the distinct feeling that Francesco really wasn’t Taemin and knowing that made her ever more cautious of his intentions.

“Francesco, I came for answers only you can give me I need to kno…”

Francesco stopped her with a light hand at her shoulder as he began to guide her in the direction of the café. He pulled up his black hoodie but seemed confident enough that he wouldn’t be recognized to order for them both, a cold coffee for himself and some of the shops freshly brewed tea for her. They sat in the bench outside overlooking the pond and for a moment Yuki was content enough to watch as Francesco held the plastic cup from the lid and took long sips from the straw. She remembered how Taemin held his cups in much the same way but she didn’t dare voice the thought. But then was he reading her mind even now? Angry at the power he held over her she turned away from him and sipped her own hot tea, the styrofoam cup warming her fingers.

“You want to know why I look like him down to every freckle don’t you? Why I may have some of his mannerisms and carry his voice?”

Yuki met his eyes and squeezed her cup a bit tighter.

“Remember last time we meet I mentioned my Shadow-self?” She nodded. “Shadow-selves are more often referred to as doppelgängers… He paused looking to the pond before continuing. “Yuki…” The ease with which he said her name made her feel oddly closer to him, as if they had known each other somewhere or rather sometime before. “Many years ago I did something to anger some very influential people and I regret that I wasn’t the only one to suffer from the curse I brought upon us.” The seriousness in his voice made Yuki’s back straighten and she braced herself for the words to come.

“You may not believe this but I meet you during the Asuka period, as a demon my role in life is to reap the souls of the living and even though it was your time, I could not bring myself to take you down with me. This angered the Balance of our world and you became a symbol of everything I strived to become.” Francesco’s laugh was loud and genuine as he said, “I remember when I found you hunting a demon who had killed your family. Do you remember it Yuki?

“I believe you can show me my lost memory,” even as she said it she knew it to be true. Yuki took Francesco’s hands in her own and closed her eyes, the world seemed to swirl and melt into a long forgotten memory:

Yuki knelt in the snow outside of Good Eye tavern under the window that overlooked the back of the room. Her palms were slick with sweat as she grabbed the hilt of her dagger harder and watched the revelry within. She watched Makoto down his fifth cup of sake, his pockets becoming as empty as his addled mind as he continued to gamble the night away.

Just yesterday, she would have been one of those tavern girls who stood behind him now, whispering the opponent’s hand in honeyed tones against his ear. Just yesterday, she would have been the girl serving the sake, would have been the one to receive those unwanted caresses at the knee, and would have been forced to mask her disgust with sweet smiles. But not today. Today she was death incarnate; her blade would run through his body just as he had run through her parents and little sister for nothing more than a few meager gold coins. Tonight, revenge filled her heart. She knew now after weeks of tracking him down and serving at the Good Eye just what hatred felt like.

Hate flourishes not in the deep murky caverns of the mind like she’d thought in her naive days, but in the warm sunrooms where happy guests are seated to tea and their host's thoughts are deviant but filled with patience. Before long, that patience grows thin and that hatred turns to their blades as a vessel. The host’s hands are then soon stained with the blood of their guest.

Yuki lifted the hood of her black cloak over her head to hide her moon-white braided hair beneath it. The tavern owner, Akhil, was about to throw Makato out at any moment and she would be ready. Yuki pulled another throwing knife from her boot cuff and climbed to the roof of the tavern. She’d gauged the exact spot on the roof she would need to wait in to strike the killing shot. Just when she was in place, the tavern’s little golden bell chimed with the arrival of a new customer. Yuki cursed under her breath as Makato was thrown into the snow. The new customer had blocked her shot by standing in front of Makato like a shield while he fought with Akhil and pleaded with him, “Just one drink”.

The angry customer hidden under his gray cloak practically lifted Akhil two feet off the ground. Yuki, transfixed by the spectacle, almost missed Makato who was crawling away in a drunken snake-like slither, leaving a path in the snow. Goddess be damned, she thought as more people came outside to watch the fight unfold. She couldn’t kill him with this crowd. Careful not to make a sound, Yuki lowered herself to the ground again and followed Makato as he crawled into the woods. It was a wonder that Makato didn’t give up and fall against a tree, with how slowly he walked. The bitter cold was the only thing keeping him in check. It tore at his bones, and the foul wind howled at him to keep on living his worthless life. Yuki raised her throwing knives again, this time with Makato right before her, she knew she could not miss.

She was right! The knives hit their mark with perfect accuracy, right between the shoulder blades. Makato howled as the knives pierced him, and soon the pure snow turned crimson around him.

“This is for my family you bastard,” Yuki screamed. She refused to shed a single tear. It was not the first time she’d killed, and it would be far from her last. This was simply the first time she’d known the victims of her victim. The empire had hired her as their assassin on her fifteenth birthday and she’d done the job, not only for its pay, but for the glory of it. Her father had been the general of the emperor and had taught her to fight since she was old enough to walk. She’d bathed in the blood of war and fallen into hell and back for nothing better than what this man in front of her had killed her family for: greed.

But now this greed was fueled by hatred; hatred for what this man had done to her family, hatred for what the empire had made her into, and hatred of herself. Yuki knew she was too valued to the empire, too skilled in the art of murder to ever give it up now. It was a game and she simply played it better than others.

Yuki walked away from Makato but as she did, she could hear the furious roar of an animal. She turned, and there before her what use to be a man was now a massive brown bear in his place. It stood three times her height on its hind legs. Its dagger-like teeth gleamed under the moonlight and his eyes, oh gods, his eyes, were as red as the blood that had just spilled from him.

She pulled two shurikens from her waist holster and aimed between the eyes. The throwing stars embedded themselves into the bear’s skull, but it only seemed to enrage him more. The bear continued toward her on all fours. She threw dagger after dagger at him, but the bear did not waver. She only had one knife left now, and she doubted that it would make much of a difference. The Makato in front of her now was in the form of what she imagined he’d looked like inside. This was what rage and hatred looked like, tough fur and blazing eyes. He just might devour her, but not without a fight.

Just as she let her last knife fly, a whistle of air passed her quick as a breath, and a figure jumped down from the trees above. It was the hooded customer who had been turned away at the tavern. He was the reason she’d confronted Makato in the woods instead of where she’d wanted to take him down. As he stepped between her and Makato, Yuki’s blade, that had been meant for the beast, sunk into the stranger’s back just as his sword ran the bear through in one swift movement. The bear gave one last deranged cry before falling backward onto the snow.

The stranger turned from the fallen beast to Yuki and pulled back his gray hood to reveal a face not much older than her own. The scar across his left eyebrow was the only thing that marred his almost femininely beautiful features. Yuki remembered the way he’d lifted the tavern owner and wondered where all the strength from his small frame came from.

He pulled her blade from his shoulder and wiped it with his hood. “Here. I’m sure you’ll need it again soon,” he said, flipping over the blade, and handing it hilt first toward her. She took it.

“How did you kill him? I’ve thrown six daggers at him already and nothing happened.”

“You can’t kill a demon with blades like yours,” he said while cleaning the blood off his own sword now, “you need blessed metal to kill a higher demon.”

“So that’s what Makato was. I can’t say I’m surprised,” Yuki said. Remembering those crimson eyes made her shiver.

“You would have killed a lesser demon with those knives, but one of his rank is harder to exorcise,” he said placing his sword in its sheath. “Also, you might say ‘thank you’, seeing as I just saved your life. And if I may ask,” he moved one step closer, “why were you tailing my target? Is the empire hiring two assassins per job these days?”

“I would have done just fine without your intervention and I have far more claim on this particular target than you do. I didn’t take him for money this time. I hated that man. He killed my family in cold blood.”

The stranger laughed at that, and she noted a very distinct mole at the corner of his nose as it crinkled, his brown eyes seemed to twinkle as he said, “A piece of advice, Honey, in this line of work let no one drag you down through the mud far enough to hate them. That hatred will turn on you, make you reckless, predictable, and stupid, then no one will be around to save you.”

“Wait,” she said as he pulled his hood back up and began to walk away. “Who really sent you? Was it Takashi?” She wondered if maybe the new general of the empire really did care about his assassins or maybe he just thought of her as invaluable. She’d never missed a target before. “Did Takashi send you because he found out my target was a demon?”

“Only scum work under the man who didn’t care to inform you that almost every target you have killed so far was in fact a demon. I don’t serve under the general, but Her Majesty and Honey,” his smile made her want to punch him, “the monsters from your nightmares are real. They crawl this earth before your eyes. After all, don’t humans act like beasts.”

“Wait,” she called after him again, but he was gone, vanishing amidst the trees and snowflakes. She lifted her head and caught a few on her tongue. Her body stiffened when she gazed behind herself at the fallen beast. She wasn’t going to lose her place in the assassins’ guild just because of one flowery man too quick with a sword. She pulled out her newly cleaned knife and turned toward the demon in the snow.

The entire court gasped as Yuki walked down the throne room holding the severed head of a bear. Blood spilled onto the lush carpet as she walked. The shocked looks and fainting ladies of the court were worth the trouble she’d be in for this stunt. Takashi’s eyes were stern and unamused as she placed the head at his feet.

“I figured you’d like to mount this on your wall,” she whispered to him as sweetly as she had when she’d poured poisoned sake into Makato’s mug. “Whenever you look at it think of me.” Yuki leaned closer to Takashi, palm outstretched to receive her pay: five-hundred gold pieces that she had been promised. Yuki had loosened her long braid before coming into the hall so that now her hair fell past her shoulders. She’d exchanged her leather for a comfortable pair of trousers and a white blouse.

“Yuki, your pay has already been given away. Don’t try to deny that you did not kill that beast,” Takashi said looking down into the open eyes of the head fisted between her palm. “Please leave before Her Majesty sees the mess you’ve made in her hall.”

Just then, Empress Haruko entered with her entourage of court ladies in her wake. Dressed in fine silk kimonos with elaborate designs, they each had fans tied with a small rope at their waists. The Empress was the only one ornamented with jewelry, her headdress made up of golden flower pins. The man who had stolen her victory walked in behind them, his beauty surpassed that of any of the ladies present, including Her Majesty. He’d exchanged his gray cloak and trousers for a light green kimono that, while far simpler than any of the court ladies, only brought more attention to his features and long black hair, which he’d gathered in a topknot and fastened with a single gold clip. He looked more like The King’s cupbearer than a member of the assassins’ guild. Yuki’s eyes met his and he quickly looked away.

“Is this blood staining the sacred stone of my chamber, General Takashi?”

“Your Majesty,” Takaishi said, quick to kneel before her, “It is an offering to you from the gods. This blood and animal’s head represents your good fortune to come. The assassins’ guild is holding a ceremony in Your Grace’s honor.”

This seemed to appease her as she took her place on the throne and Takashi summoned a servant to clean the blood. As Takashi rose from kneeling, he leaned into Yuki’s ear and said, “The empire no longer requires your services, Yuki, you can crawl back into the sewers with the rest of the vermin. I believe Taemin,” he said, resting his gaze on her newfound finely dressed adversary as he leaned down to hear The Queen who whispered something to him, “can take it from here.” Yuki picked Takashi’s coin purse and left the hall. She didn’t look back.

I’ve lost my position to the empresses’ new lapdog; how pathetic can I be? Yuki let out a few choice words and gulped from her flask. Her throat felt raw and her stomach empty, but she didn’t want to move from the piano bench. She always came to the old village concert hall when she felt upset. It was the only place that really felt like home anymore, even if it was half-burned by a fire; a fire she had started. For someone who couldn’t even read notes, she sat here far too often.

Yuki gently rested her fingers on the piano’s singed ivory keys. They were now covered in ashy soot and some flats were chipped, but the piano she found still played a tune; a haunting melody that somehow resonated with her feelings at the exact moment she played them. Yuki had swapped her trousers and blouse for one of the costume dresses she’d found mostly unharmed in a wardrobe. It was white with the long draping sleeves of a goddess’s gown from a painting she’d seen long ago. She supposed it was from one of the many plays that had taken place at this stage. Maybe one she’d seen with her father when she’d been younger. But after her parents had been killed, she’d felt the urge to unleash her wrath on this place of harmony. Why should others laugh and sing in a world so dark? She’d brightened it that night with the flames of her hatred. The fire had flourished till every instrument, except for this piano, were nothing but dust. Yuki’s hands came down on the keys hard and the sound that emanated was chaos; the most familiar kind of melody. She cursed this place, she cursed how she used to be, and her good memories.

“You have quite the sword for a tongue.”

“How did you find me here?” she said, her voice weary.

“Takashi told me you come here often. I’ve been here once or twice myself,” Taemin said. He walked up to the stage and lifted a piece of the floorboard. He pulled out a koto she hadn’t known survived the flames and blew on it to release the dust. It seemed he really must come here often to know it was there.

“I used to play on this stage,” Taemin said. “Terrible what happened to it,” he tried to meet her eyes, but Yuki looked away. In his silk kimono and fastened hair, he looked in costume already, like an emperor’s son who had run away from the throne to become a minstrel. He stood on the stage with her, only the beam of light from the moon coming from the broken rooftop lit the stage, as well as the solitary candle she’d placed on the piano, its wax already filling more than half of its basin.

Taemin sat on the stage and placed his thumb, index finger, and middle finger against the white strings of the koto. Then he closed his eyes and plucked the instrument with elegant strokes, the ends of his kimono sleeves moving with him. The melody stirred something inside her; it made her angry, it made her weep, it made her smile. She raised her fingers to the piano keys before her and this time she followed his tune. As they played, she felt even more hollow, like this had been the joy she’d wiped out of her own life and the lives of so many others. The tears streamed from her face now even when Taemin had stopped playing and walked toward her; she kept on.

“Do you feel this pain? This is how the souls you’ve sent to hell feel in their purgatory,” Taemin said. “This is how the many demons and innocent blood you’ve shed spend their days.” Yuki froze and looked up at Taemin; his face, that had been lovely and peaceful only minutes before while playing, had turned hard, and his gaze pierced her with so many needles that she had to blink.

“You know, Takashi never said anything about this concert hall. I can smell the blood of my people’s murderer for miles.” He placed one pale hand atop her head and stroked her hair as gently as he’d played the koto. “This moon-white hair was a beacon that lead me to you, it can be seen even from the pits of Yomi and most importantly, from my throne.” Taemin’s eyes turned from warm brown to crimson, the same blood-red eyes of the demon bear he had killed in the woods. Yuki knew who this man before her was now. She knew why he’d killed one of his own servants only to corner her now. He was the king of demons, a reaper of souls who had come to collect his pay. So many of his monsters had died by her blade, whether she had known it or not, and he wanted compensation.

Yuki tried to move, tried to reach her iron short sword hidden in her gown, but his music had done something to her body. She felt paralyzed, and at this point her survival instincts were almost nonexistent. She’d done enough, killed enough to deserve this fate. If the king of the underworld had worked this hard to track her down, enough to disguise himself as an assassin, hypnotize an entire court and the empress herself in order to get to her, then she was ready.

After all, she was just like him, a demon hiding under human skin, clawing to release the hatred that always followed nipping at her heels letting her have no peace. Like a restless river that she waded deeper and deeper into till she’d surely drown. She could still hear the howls of the beasts she’d killed, all lecherous and iron-toothed. She could remember each of their names. As Taemin’s dagger drew closer to her chest, she smiled, at last she would be home. But before the dagger could pierce her soul he embraced her instead.

“I have never known a woman so fearless of heart and yet a purity shines within your soul. Even damned as you are to the darkness of Yomi you do not belong in the land of the dead. I wish to see your sadness turn to smiles and see those smiles directed at me,” he said taking her face in his.

His gentleness surprised her and so did the sincerity of his words, she saw the truth in his eyes and she wasn’t afraid. She covered his hand at her cheek with her own and said, “Perhaps life is still worth living but I’ve lost the reason for it long ago.”

“Can you remind me what being alive feels like I haven't felt that way in centuries?” Taemin said bringing his forehead to rest against her own.

Yuki brought her lips to his and whether they had known it or not the heavens and the high priests of hell had been watching and grew displeased at the disturbance of balance.

“Yuki! Are you alright?” Taemin had his hands on both of her shoulders as she came out of her lost memories.

Yuki looked at the concern on Taemin’s face and squeezed his hands to reassure him that she was alright.

After she had enough time to catch her breath she said, “I’m not the only Yuki you’ve told this to over the centuries, am I? The curse you said you endured we endure together. There are human duplicates made in your likeness on this earth who reincarnate as I do. And every time we cross paths through every lifetime you must endure seeing me with someone else in your image, am I right Taemin?”

“I only go by Francesco now Yuki. You are right, You live and you love and you die and you do it all without me but somehow someway you always die a terrible death at a young age that breaks both me and my shadow-self to pieces. Do you know what torment I go through seeing you live through that pain again and again,” Francesco said as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Something strange did happen this time though because while my shadow-selves are usually made in my image it was never this close a resemblance, never this close a connection. I feel his emotions more deeply and find myself connected to this current Idol child more than I have ever before. Usually, I feel nothing shared with my doppelgängers but my love for you as if we are two separate beings but this time, I am not so sure it is that simple. I can hear his thoughts sometimes and I worry if our closeness will affect him as well. Yuki, the only way for you to break this cycle of death is to stay away from us but because of my selfishness I dragged you into this again.”

“I would have come anyway Francesco, you know I’d have followed Taemin to the next concert as soon as I could.”

“Spend the rest of today and tomorrow with me? I’m leaving after and I know the perfect place you’ve been wanting to go” he said.

Yuki knew she couldn’t resist the chance of spending the day with him. Her pull to Francesco and Taemin were far stronger than she wanted to admit but at that moment, she was thankful for it. Here beside her stood someone who truly understood her, loved her, watched her die in a thousand ways and still risked everything to be with her. If the tables had been turned and she had been the one to watch him suffer over and over would she have endured it?

“Then what are we waiting for, let’s go.”

The late-night flight to Okinawa had lasted six hours and Yuki had fallen asleep on Francesco’s shoulder to her humiliation for most of it. He’d told her when she’d awoken that looking into the past can take a strong toll on a mortal’s body. Yuki’s excitement to be in Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium was unparalleled. It was were Taemin had gone on his SIRIUS tour and just the thought of it made Yuki giddy with excitement though she tried to suppress it for Francesco’s sake she knew he felt it. Francesco smiled at Yuki’s enthusiasm to make a beeline for the whale sharks as she passed the pages of the map they were given at the entrance.

It still felt strange separating both Francesco and Taemin as two completely different people entirely. But no matter whom Francesco looked like she knew the experiences of both men were profoundly different. On top of that Taemin was a mortal, an angelic, ethereal mortal but a mortal none the less and he could not find out about Francesco at any cost.

“Yuki I found it! Francesco pointed at the glass with a grin as he motioned to the white spotted whale shark with a small gray fish following at his underbelly. Francesco watched Yuki press her hands to the glass and laughed when she pressed her nose to it as well. “Look over here so we can get a picture with the gentle beast.” Francesco pulled out his phone and caught the perfect shot of the shark just between their heads.

“I guess this means you’ll have to send me your contact information now,” Yuki said snatching his phone from his hands. “Or I guess I’ll be imputing mine,” she said as she added herself as a new contact.

“Yuki you know that’s a bad idea,” Francesco said reaching for the phone as she raised it above her head. He followed after her as she went to see the eels in the next tank and she slipped the phone back to him and took his hand.

“I know we only have a short time and that it's foolish to-”

“Dangerous to-” He corrected.

“I just want to pretend for the rest of the day that we don’t have to say goodbye at the end of it,” she said meeting his eyes. It terrified her that she could see his sadness beneath his smiles.

“Okay,” he squeezed her hand tighter. “You are going to have the day of your life Yuki Sakamaki.”

He wasn’t wrong. The hours to come gave her more joy than she had ever dreamed of and it wasn’t just that Churaumi was one of the largest aquariums in the world but it was the growing feelings she couldn’t shake around him. Yuki had already been in love with Taemin and her past self had already loved Francesco and though she knew it was wrong to compare them she knew the reason she loved them both was really because Taemin was a mortal incarnation of Francesco himself. Seeing Francesco come to life as he animatedly spoke about all of the different fish in the aquarium calling them all by name and telling her of his many swims in the ocean made her heart soar. She knew that Francesco and Taemin were connected far more than he’d like to let on. This shadow-self, unlike the others, held similarities that even he feared. What if it was because the curse was ending and soon enough there would be no more diluted parts of Francesco to give? He already felt and heard the things Taemin did so would the passing of his mortal soul hold an effect on his as well? Yuki worried that this was the plan the heavens had in store for him, ripping out Francesco’s heart wasn’t enough, it was his immortality they longed to steal and place a new king on hell’s throne.

“I can breathe underwater,” he said pulling her out of her disparaging thoughts and back to the food stand they stopped at. “I’ve spent so much time underwater in some of the darkest parts of the sea that go even deeper than the tunnels of the underworld. There are so many bizarre creatures down there that the mortals still have yet to discover, Yuki. Do you remember when one of my shadow-selves was a pirate captain and you were the cheekiest of vixens with hair brighter than the flames of hell.”

Yuki surprised herself by knowing exactly what he meant. In those days her father had wanted her to marry the wealthy son of a clerk and she had run away by moonlight. Bess Gallagher dressed in doe-hide breeches slipped her way into the most cunning, infamous of gangs and pledged her life to piracy. When her ship The Coffin waged battle and seized The Magpie she captured the unfortunate vessel’s captain in more ways than one and once the red knot had been tied and a babe was on the way she died a terrible death at the mercy of the sea and to her watery grave.

“I was quite spirited then wasn’t I.”

“You’ve always been that way Yuki,” Francesco said as he moved her hair behind her ear, his touch lingering and reminding her of the feel of his lips against her neck, his fangs against her skin. “You are still the strongest woman I have ever known you just haven’t realized it completely in this life yet, you don’t quite know quite what you’re capable of” he said as he drew his thumb across the top of her eyebrow and she closed her eyes as his fingers traveled down her cheek. She opened her eyes quickly when her back came in contact with the wall behind her and Francesco’s hand slammed against it.

“Francesco, If you wanted to pull a Kabedon there are much less dramatic ways of-”

“Shhh, honey.” With one hand against her lips he brought the other from the wall and held his hand out to her. She was thankful that it had been there to quite her for if not she would have screamed. There in the palm of his right hand lay a large dead redback spider. Francesco pulled away from her and in one quick swoop, he swallowed the poisonous creature.

“Francesco!”

“Shhh you’ll bring attention to us,” he said as he took her hand and lead her away from the crowd.

“Now I definitely won’t be confusing you with Taemin anymore after that stunt,” Yuki said her heart still pounding widely though she wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of Francesco eating an insect or his proximity from moments before.

“How many times do I have to clarify that Taemin and I are much more different than you think. Also, I’m not afraid of insects.”

“He’s no coward Francesco, mortals have fears and trepidations it makes them human,” Yuki said a bit annoyed now.

“I never said he was Yuki.” Francesco looked up at the darkening sky with a sigh their day was close to an end. “Come, I have one more thing to show you and I’m afraid this time you will surely compare me to him.

The music shop was large and not many customers were there at this late hour. It was half an hour till closing time but somehow Francesco convinced the man behind the counter to let him use the piano room in the back where they could be alone. Yuki stood by the hood of the grand piano at the center of the room and Francesco placed his hands gently to the ivory keys.

“The song I’m about to sing is one Taemin will release next year, I’ve heard how it is sung from our connection and I can’t escape from the feeling that it’s about us three. Somewhere in the mortal’s subconscious mind, I believe he knows something as well.”

Before she could say a word, Yuki was transfixed as the hauntingly beautiful melody and Francesco’s voice-Taemin’s voice filled the room.

“Memories of being in love come back You follow me around and pester me every day You’re like a shadow

Your voice that echoed on and on in my ears Won’t leave me Though I run away, I’m still in the same place Oh you’re like a shadow”

The song was about yearning, heartbreak, loss, and haunting spirits but she understood what Francesco meant when he said it reminded him of their story and of their forgotten memories. Perhaps Taemin was also searching for this shadow-side of himself that he knew was lost to him. Perhaps he felt the yearning that Francesco felt for her in some crazy intuitive way. She didn’t know why the bond between Francesco and Taemin was stronger than any Shadow-self that had come before but she did sense the danger ahead of them.

“Only the splintered memories Sink deeper and deeper into my heart A crack of light comes back And your shadow stabs me again

Though I hide in the dark again and again You chase after me You won’t leave me Though I run away, I’m still in the same place Oh you’re like a shadow”

When Francesco finished, he looked up at her and met her glazed eyes with a tormented expression of his own. She never felt so blessed and yet drained of life all at once, his voice and those words made her feel things in the way no one else could. He knew that their love would never be enough to stop their fate if they continued to meet she would die and saying goodbye was the only way to keep her alive, at least for now.

Just as Yuki was about to break the silence a large gust of wind swept through the room and there before her in a blanket of mist stood the bronze gates of hell with its many beautifully carved yet intimidating figures and its ever more frightening inscription: Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Yuki swallowed as the enormous doors opened and a black snake came slithering into the piano room and onto Francesco’s arm.

“Yuki meet my Familiar Mizuchi, Mizuchi this is-”

“I know who the girl is my lord no need to make a fuss,” The snake said elongating her S’s and looking at Yuki as if she wanted to eat her alive for touching her master.

“Now Mizuchi, be polite,” he said petting her head. “I’m sorry Yuki, she can be quite protective of me-”

“We have no time for this my lord, the high priests are gathered at the Inferno Court to discuss current affairs, you must come back before they notice where you have gone.”

“She’s right Francesco.” Though it took all of her strength to stand before him and say goodbye Yuki refused to cry. However, when he embraced her tightly in his arms and kissed her forehead she felt her resolve weakening as he opened the gates of hell and steeped into the mist, the doors closing firmly behind him with a bang that shook her core. She didn’t know how to end a cycle that had gone on for centuries, but for this moment she wanted to be with him, no matter the cost and she swore to herself she’d find a way.

This was my first try at Tumblr fanfic. I hope you enjoyed it 6v6

Thank you @taemeyouloveme for your kind support and inspirational writings:)

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storiesofwildfire · 5 years

Text

dragon age sentence starters – status; accepting

@bifrostgold said: "How do you do that? Make everything better with a smile?" (for Loki ❤)

♔—- Her father didn’t really seem to like Heimdall. Ever since they arrived on Vanaheim, Kratos kept his guard up. Sure, that wasn’t abnormal in the slightest. Her father had a tendency of mistrusting before trusting, never took anyone for their word unless they proved themselves, and despite training her to survive alone, he had a shockingly protective streak.

She understood the reason, of course, and as she grew older, Kratos’ motivations became more and more clear. He’d hurt a lot of people in his time, but he’d been hurt just as much. So much had been taken from him and Atreus was... well, really one of the only things he’d managed to keep hold of for so long. She believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her father’s biggest fear was losing her. He didn’t even seem to bat an eye when it came to his own death if it meant she got to live.

Even some of the personal trials she’d gone through that she’d been so fearful of sharing with her father for fear of his judgment or fear of losing his approval had done little to distance them or put a dent in their bond. Kratos and Atreus were rarely apart as they lived together and traveled together. Even now, in her adulthood, her father was always there. She couldn’t have wished for him to be anywhere but by her side, but she now faced an interesting dilemma...

At first, she mistook her father’s wariness as standard procedure. It would take him a while to feel safe on Vanaheim, to trust the Vanir in any way, especially when he did have such a horrible hangup about any type of God that wasn’t his own child. But as the days stretched to weeks and weeks to months, and Kratos saw how beneficial it was for her to be in such a magical place, learning not only control of her ever-growing magic, but how to harness it to its fullest potential, he seemed more confident that they’d made the right choice to come. Mimir hadn’t been wrong and while it could be very difficult to tell when Kratos actually enjoyed himself or approved, Loki knew without a doubt that he did. He was even warming up to Vanaheim and its people.

Everyone but Heimdall, that was.

A unique situation, as it had never really come to fruition before. For all the years that she traveled with her father and went through wave after wave of self-discovery along their journey, she’d never taken so fondly to another person. Sure, brief crushes that never lasted and occasional sneaking off for a date that she would never tell her father about cropped up, but Heimdall was something different entirely.

Her magic sang with joy when he was near, constantly reaching out to him in hopes of enticing him back to her without her consent to do so. Hung up on everything he had to say and so easily found swooning just from watching him for a brief window of time shouted clear as day that she’d fallen in love for the first time. It hadn’t been planned. She didn’t expect it, not when she’d never felt so intensely for another person, but she could hardly deny it. Unfortunately, it became very obvious to her father as well and Kratos did not seem to take well to it, almost going as far as to try and frighten the young Chief away from his child’s heart.

Kratos meant well, Loki knew. He only wished to spare her as much pain as possible, but his interference in her attempts to get closer to Heimdall grew exasperating to say the very least. They took to sneaking off for private studies or hunting trips that allowed them to be alone and away from the rest of the town, her father and Heimdall’s mums included.

Sitting with him on one such hunting trip now, she bent over Heimdall’s back to help him readjust his hold on the bow in his hands for more efficient aim and angle for the drawback. With her suggestions, Heimdall’s arrow split through the air quick enough that if you blinked, you missed it entirely, and it stuck its mark. A target, admittedly, rather than an actual animal. They were supposed to be hunting, but they both knew the true nature of sneaking off like this was more to spend time together. Loki would ensure they brought back something sizable so no one could fuss at them, but the real hunting could come later.

After hitting the target, Heimdall sat the bow down and shifted position so he could lean against a large tree trunk. A little frown tugged at the woman’s lips, though she easily slid into his lap and brought surprisingly soft hands to the Vanir’s cheeks to guide his golden eyes to her. Troubled, she could feel it. An unease that covered the stretch of their time together despite the obvious joy at getting to spend time with Loki at all.

Kratos, she assumed. Heimdall, she quickly learned after meeting Heimdall, could see literally everything within Yggdrasil. Nothing could be hidden from his sight ( though, admittedly, she was determined to find out a way to prove that wrong. Purely for the challenge of seeing if she could more than anything ), including her father’s treatment of him. The disapproving glares, the attempts to literally force Heimdall and Loki apart, the threats Loki saw and no doubt didn’t see... They were getting to Heimdall, and why wouldn’t they? Serious romance seemed to be a relatively new concept to him as well despite how much older he actually was. What they felt for one another was as genuine as could be. Even their magic pinned after one another, but Kratos did not seem to approve. In many ways, it even read negatively on Heimdall’s character, as if Atreus’ father did not believe him good enough or trustworthy enough to court his child.

Before she spoke, she offered her newfound love a soft smile that radiated warmth and understanding while her thumbs caressed his cheeks fondly.

"How do you do that? Make everything better with a smile?" Heimdall asked, returning Loki’s smile with one of his own.

“That would insinuate that something was wrong at all?” Loki murmured. She’d taken to her Norse name, especially in her later years of life. She did not choose Loki over Atreus. Both names belonged to her, but as she interacted with more people from her mother’s dominion, it felt right to use the name that her mother had given her in conjunction to the one her father gifted. Atreus would always be her father’s first choice and a name she carried with pride and honor, but Loki rapidly became popular amongst the Norse.

Loki’s story existed long before she had been born, after all.

“It’s all right,” she continued, though she did lean up to press a gentle kiss to Heimdall’s lips before she said anything else. Lingering there for a moment, she found herself wrapped in the desire to lose herself in the kiss. Every time she kissed Heimdall, she felt an overwhelming need to press on. That need wasn’t always sexual, it just manifested in a desire to be as close as she possibly could to the man. Surely, the overwhelming sense of desire would die down eventually, once their romance moved past the stages of being new and exciting and, at least as far as Kratos was concerned, still a bit forbidden.

“I get it,” she whispered, finally pulling back enough so she could look at the man again. “My father has not exactly been kind or welcoming to you or to us. I’ve seen it wear on you. It’s becoming more and more intrusive on our time together and it almost makes us slipping away together feel like we’re doing something we shouldn’t be.” Shared feelings, in truth, ones that she could feel in Heimdall, but ones she felt as well. Kratos meant well, but he hadn’t made falling in love for the first time easy by any stretch of the imagination.

“But you know I would not be out here with you if I did not wish to be. I have never...” She paused, blinking by her own fear in admitted what she nearly admitted. Mentally debating whether she should finish her thought or not, she finally continued. “I have never been in love before now,” she confessed. “My father has seen a few crushes, endured a few nights of me running off to meet with someone, but he has never had to deal with the idea that I could actually bind myself to another person. He isn’t handling it well, but the way he looks at you is his protective nature canceling out all other forms of logical thought. He wants to find something wrong with you so he has an excuse to pull me away, but he’d been unable to find one for this long because there is no reason to. He knows this, he just hasn’t accepted it yet.

“It must be strange for you, seeing how welcoming and open your mothers are. They’ve all taken to me so well so quickly, having my father act as a polar opposite to that is enough to give anyone whiplash, but he will come around. He’s just stubborn--” She had to get that from somewhere, didn’t she? “--and often struggles to break out of his ways. Eventually, he will come to terms with us, though. He doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You are my choice, not his, and I wouldn’t back down from you for anything. Not even my father. Surely, you must see that?”

She kept his gaze for a long few moments, emerald eyes staring without falter into those bright golden eyes that she knew could see everything and yet, so often focused on her. His eyes were one of the first things that drew her in, both in their unique qualities and beauty, and she loved them all the more now, watching the way conflict faded from them and formed into fierce determination or, perhaps, love?

Swallowing, she let her arms slip around his neck. Her slim frame didn’t look as if it possessed much strength but her appearance no matter her chosen form always had been deceiving. Pulling Heimdall close, she pressed to him and dipped her head enough to bury her nose against his throat, slowly inhaling the scent of him.

“I love you, Heimdall. Nothing will change that.” Nothing more than a whisper, truly, as her heart thrashed a mile a minute against her sternum. The first time she’d ever admitted aloud that she’d fallen so deeply in love and now it was out there, no longer able to be protectively guarded by her paranoia or fear of rejection.

“I love you,” she whispered again.

#ask loki #answered prayers #bifrostgold #c; heimdall #( main verse ; god of war ) a child born of two worlds #( ship ; bifrostgold ) you have been here since the beginning and you are the first to truly see me #( ship ) loki x heimdall #( long response ) if it were easy everyone would do it #{ i am uh??? really gay for this #so I hope you love it as much as i do because I'm eyes emoji at it right now #also poor Heimdall just trying to love and be a good bf #and Kratos in the bg with a knife like: give me a reason bitch just one #but also poor Kratos because??? he's having to deal with his child falling in love for the first time #and like #being an adult and shit #and it's sweet that he wants to protect Loki from Heimdall even tho he really shouldn't }

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