#i only vaguely remember the female character with cool hair and clothes and voice

[melting-morning-blues]

does anyone remember penn zero part time hero or was that show just a fever dream on my part

[nanaminokanojo]

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 3/8

CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 3/8 WORD COUNT: 4,000+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | eventual smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | strong/mature/suggestive language | mentions of murder/crime/dying | mentions and use of drugs SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

"Do you remember the last time I was in your car?"

The hitch immediately started with that one question. It seemed innocent enough with the way you said it in nonchalance while you let your eyes roam the ivory interior of the Lexus. The two of you were only halfway out of the highway when you asked out of the blue, ultimately pissing Nanami off.

At the reminder, his knuckles immediately turned bone white on the steering wheel, his expressions turning dark as he glanced at you, mouth set in a thin line.

He couldn't remember a darker time in his life than watching you almost die from the rear view mirror of his car as you lay shivering on the backseat, unresponsive even if he struggled to both drive, not to crash and keep you conscious. The glassy look about your blue eyes and the way your pupils had blown up to more than twice their size making him shiver. It was safe to say it scarred him for life.

It was a day like any other. He had just gotten off work after a long day at the court, a mix of sadness and elation coursing through him after winning the case for a teenage girl who was brutally murdered. He finally put the man responsible for it in jail for good. It felt good to see the relief on the faces of the grieving parents; to finally put an end to the daily misery they have to go through, having to be reminded of what has become of their daughter.

But as he was resting in his study, a damp towel draped over his tired eyes and throbbing head, his phone suddenly rang. It wasn't yet 10 o'clock in the evening so he opted to answer it, surprised when he saw your name on the screen. You never really called, and the last time you did, it didn't bode well.

"Hello?"

"Suguru..." came your hoarse voice from the other end of the line, your shallow breaths and wheezes evident in each syllable followed by the sound of faintly splashing water.

"You've reached the wrong person, sweetheart," he muttered, reminding him just how Geto was your favorite among Gojo's friends. He did not resent that, but to say he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous was a lie.

Nanami called your name several times but there was no response, just loud rustling and what seemed to be the device falling on the floor with an echo.

"I fucked up big time," you managed to choke out when you spoke again, your tone slurred, and you seemed to be having a difficult time speaking.

"Where are you?"

"I n-need you... p-please..."

"What's going on?" Nanami was already on his feet, dashing out of the study and picking up his keys, still coaxing you to respond when he heard a ding on his phone. You managed to send your location but you weren't speaking anymore.

He was not religious, probably did not believe in a higher being, but as he drove towards your location, thankfully only half a mile away to the suburbs, he found himself fervently praying for your safety.

When he finally got to the address, he found a modernistic structure, a house, and there seemed to be a party going on. He saw some familiar faces, the gallery manager from the previous exhibit of your recent collection and some art connoisseurs he recognized from the same event.

He barged into the house, being handed a champagne flute the moment he entered, everyone welcoming him but he didn't see your face among the people. He refused, asking instead where you were, sprinting up the stairs in large strides when he was told you went upstairs with some people.

Nanami pretty much kicked every door open until he finally found you in one of the upstairs bathroom. He thought his knees would give out as his heart literally stopped at the sight before him.

There, on the half-filled bathtub was you, soaked to your chest. Your white hair was matted over your forehead while the tips floated on the water. You turned your head when you heard him enter, revealing bloodshot eyes, your lips blue and you looked like you didn't have any blood left with your almost greyish pallor.

Hurriedly, he took you out of the tub, carrying you downstairs much to the curiosity of the guests. "You will be okay. Stay with me," he kept telling you.

Despite your state, you managed to smile, tears springing from your eyes. "Nanamin..." you said weakly, making his heart swell that you were at least happy to see him.

He seriously thought you were going to die, but apparently, you did not necessarily overdose on the cocaine you had taken in as he would later find out from the doctors themselves. You had a bad trip and had to be weaned off the substance for the next twenty four hours.

"Are you drug dependent?" he asked when he picked you up from the hospital, opting not to tell Gojo about the matter until he got his answers.

"You won't tell Satoru, will you?" you asked.

"That depends on your answer and whether you're telling the truth," he told you gruffly, fighting hard not to be angry seeing as how fragile you looked. He hadn't slept and he felt as if his nerves were frayed.

You shook your head. "That's the first time. I promise you it won't happen again. I know it's stupid, but I was just curious."

"Your devil-may-care attitude will kill you."

"I know."

He didn't say anything more no matter how much he wanted to scold you and beat some sense into you. He never brought it up and neither did you. That was an unspoken agreement between the two of you. It was your secret which he will carry to his grave and for the last three years since then, nothing like it happened again. You voluntarily cut your ties with the people who were in that party and since then, you had been well.

"Don't remind me," he snapped at you, keeping his eyes on the road.

You’ve reached the shop that Utahime had instructed you to go to for your fitting, but before he could kill the engine, you spoke again.

"Come to think of it, I've never properly apologized for it, and I haven't said thank you enough for saving me that day."

Nanami shot you a sharp look. "I don't want to talk about it."

You sighed and held his hand as he was taking off his seatbelt. "I don't mean to make you angry, but I am sincerely apologizing for it. I am sorry because I put you through that."

Nanami held you by the wrist instead, meeting your gaze with a cold stare. "If you are, then I hope you also realized what a selfish person you are. You're right. You put me through hell. What could I have said to your brother if you died on me that night?"

You didn't say anything, appearing contrite for the first time.

"Gojo would have lost you. Your friends would have lost you." He sighed heavily, holding your hand properly, his expressions softening at how tiny yours looked in his. "I would have lost you."

At his last statement, you nodded and chuckled quietly. "I wouldn't refute that if it saves me. Still, I wanted you to know that it was a big deal for me." You smiled at him. "But that's not all. I could have lost you, but you're still here. So, thanks." And in a surprising turn of events which left him dumbstruck, you lifted both your hands and brushed your lips on his knuckles before disembarking from the car and skipping to the couturier's shop.

His mind wandered throughout the time he was being assisted into the suit that the bride- and groom-to-be had chosen for him to wear on their wedding. He had to give Gojo props for choosing well and suiting the ensemble’s piece to his preference. But he couldn’t quite concentrate on the task at hand when the scene in the car kept playing in his mind. The back of his hand still tingled where you kissed it.

All he wanted to do was see you, but you were a room away, also being pricked and pinned. He wanted nothing but for the fitting to be over so he can be with you again, regardless if it was just for the short drive going back to Gojo manor. Your course of action and words fueled something in him he thought never existed, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, hear you, smell you, touch you. He wanted you, wanted to have you for himself come Gojo or high water. He already knew that, but he never felt as strongly as he did for you than at present because he also knew, that for the first time, you were being yourself and not playing games with him.

Nanami vaguely heard the tailor say something to him, but he didn’t quite catch it, but his image on the mirror suddenly became clearer as he was interrupted from his daydream. His brows furrowed together as he assessed what the man said, but before it could drag on for too long, his cluelessness, he said, “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Is the fit just right, Mr. Nanami?” the man asked again, expert eyes scanning over his figure.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” Nanami stated hurriedly. He couldn’t care less about the suit, but it was already great. He didn’t see any reason to prolong the appointment. “Can I get changed now?”

“Certainly, sir,” the tailor said. “I will leave you to get dressed.”

He just nodded and carefully shed the suit off before changing back into his clothes, meticulously folding the sleeves of his shirt before he set out in search of you. He knocked on the door he was directed to, hearing music playing on the other side of the door along with some voices, one of which was yours.

The door opened and his eyes immediately met those cool blue ones through the mirror. You had your arms spread out to the sides as three women worked around you. “Done already?”

Nanami felt heat creeping up his neck as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were far from finished.”

“Oh, shush. I need your opinion.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Like I know anything about this.” At odds to his words, he sat down.

“Your boyfriend is handsome,” the couturier commented with a flirtatious giggle as he sized Nanami up.

“I –”

He was about to protest when you cut him short and said, “Isn’t he?”

“That coming from the person who said she didn’t feel like drawing my face,” he said, feigning annoyance.

“Oh, baby. I can’t draw your face if its saves me.” You flashed him a seductive smile. “You’re too perfect.” You winked at him through the mirror while he just sat down and shook his head in amusement, picking up a magazine but not really reading through it. He just watched as you were directed like a doll to pose whichever way the stylist wanted and he could have sworn he has seen nothing more beautiful.

“Just another pin right here,” the couturier said flamboyantly, fastening this and that around your sides, “…and we’re done!” He clapped his hands, standing back as he admired his handiwork. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s fine,” you said, tilting your head to the side.

“Hmm,” Nanami butted in, closing the distance between him and you. He came closer behind you, silently ordering everyone else out of the room with a succinct jerk of his head before he stood there, eyes on your bare back. He placed both hands on either of your shoulders, towering over you.

You quietly observed what he was doing from the mirror, your expressions unchanging even when he traced your spine with his finger. His lips curled at the corners ever so slightly when you slightly jerked forward when he reached the small of your back, relishing the smoothness of your skin against his calloused digit. He lingered there, drawing circles as he met your gaze on your reflection.

“Isn’t this too low?” he asked, his breath hitting the shell of your right ear. “You’re attending a wedding anyway.”

“Oh?” You twirled around so that your back was to the mirror, while you looked over your shoulder to check what he was saying. The plunging style of the dusty rose gown dipped all the way to your waist. “You think so?” You looked up at him, noticing how his face was just inches away from you. “I think it’s okay.”

“Okay for everyone to see?”

At that, you smiled smugly at him. “And you don’t like that, do you, Nanamin?” you asked sultrily.

“I am your boyfriend after all,” he teased. “While I’d like to brag about you, it wouldn’t sit right with me to know everyone’s seeing what’s supposedly only for my eyes, now would it?”

“I never took you for the jealous – whoa!”

Without preamble, he wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest, a devious smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even concealing his enjoyment anymore. He liked having you close like that, your intoxicating scent dominating his senses.

“Why did you say that to the stylist?” he asked, leaning closer and reveling at the fact that you were caught off guard, eyes wide in surprise.

“It’s easier to just say so than explain, isn’t it?” You leveled your bearing with his. “You didn’t do anything to disagree either.”

“First, you kiss me in front of your brother, flirt with me like it’s normal and say things like that. What are you playing at?”

“Is this one of your games?” you asked, returning his question to you the previous day. You reached up and cupped the side of his face, eyes lingering on his mouth. “Cause I’ll play, Kento.”

He has never quite thought of his name before, whether he liked it or not. It was given to him and he couldn't imagine being called anything else. But he has never liked the sound of it as much as he did when it was rolling out of your tongue. It brought out a strange feeling, spurring him on to give in to his desires instead of holding them back like he usually does with you.

It was all the encouragement he needed. Fuck everything, he thought, dipping his head lower to close the distance between the two of you until he was touching your lips. A quiet gasp left your mouth when he pressed his lips onto yours in an experimental touch, gentle as a zephyr. Your ocean eyes stared at him, taken aback when he pulled away but the dazed look you had was the same one that drew him back to you, landing pecks several times, each one lingering longer than the last.

"Are you teasing me, Nanamin?" you breathed out softly, the laughter in your voice dying out when he captured your lips, this time shutting you up for a good while, coaxing you to respond to his ministrations. He knew he won over you when he felt your fingers grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest rising and falling against his in shallow breaths, making his heart thrum wildly.

His senses were already heightened whenever you were in the same breathing space as he was, but it was always a different story when you were touching him. Hyper aware. There wasn't a better word that would describe how he felt at that moment. He seemed to see everything he wouldn't usually notice; hear his heart thrumming over every other thought in his brain; almost touch the tension in the air and feel that intense heat blooming from his chest outwards.

But at the same time, nothing mattered but the person in front of him, kissing him and making him feel all sorts of ways. He was a gonner and he knew it but he didn't want to fight it either.

You moaned into the kiss when he gently darted his tongue into your mouth, seducing yours in a fiery dance that united your breaths. His hands made their way up your shoulders, the feel of your soft skin awakening carnal thoughts, making him think of nothing but ways to own you, mark you until he was satisfied. He cupped your face in his large hands, holding you in place, unable to get enough of your taste and the sensations you gave him. They made him crave like a man starved and deprived and he wants to take, take, take.

By the time he pulled away, he was a panting mess, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips the moment he opened his eyes to find you flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. But that was short-lived when he heard a clinking sound on the side of his head and a wicked grin stretched over your mouth. When he followed the sound, he saw the keys to his car dangling on your fingers.

"What –"

You took a step back when he tried to reach for it, effectively holding it away from him. "Prestidigitation," you declared, sounding victorious. "I'm driving. No arguments."

Nanami sighed, his senses still fuzzy from your kiss and the sight of you whirling around in chiffon and taffeta. He just gave in to his affections for you in hopes of coming out the victor, but you still played him in his own game. "Fine. You win."

You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek, stepping off to the side to ring the bell for the shop staff. "I promise not to crash your car."

**

Nanami sat on the passenger side of the car, glancing at the fair-haired villain who stole his car keys, currently driving him to some surprise place of your choosing. He had protested when he noticed how you were going to the opposite way from the manor, taking the highway that led well away from the town. Thrice, he told you to turn back and for every reason he cited, you had a counterattack, not necessarily valid but enough grounds for you to get your way.

"I need to read through the case file and take down notes to make up for the time I'm missing at the firm," came his first excuse but you effectively shot that down by pointing at his briefcase neatly tucked at the backseat.

"Yeah, cause as anal as you are about your job, you don't keep spare copies in your car in cases of emergency."

He jerked on his seat at your comment. "Hey, I'm not anal about my job! I'm just being prudent."

You laughed at the way his voice was raised than usual. "No need to get defensive. Besides, Your initial hearing isn't going to be in two months and by the looks of it, you have everything almost done."

"How did you –"

"I saw them the first day you arrived." Shrugging, it was your turn to shoot him with an annoyed gaze. "You keep forgetting that I have photographic memory. I'm cursed to remember everything."

Truth was, he seemed to be forgetting whose sister you were, letting his guard down and kissing you the way he did. He knew he could have done more if he completely let go of his reins. You were just too tempting, too beautiful and brimming life and infinite galaxies in your eyes which devoured him and made him lose of all sense of time, space and just sense in general.

"Satoru will be looking for you," Nanami attempted for the second time which only earned him an imperious look from you. You said everything in that single action: one, that you didn't care and two, that he was behaving ludicrously.

For the final time, he tried to appeal with something which you would actually give a damn about. "Don't you want to spend time with your friends?"

"Seriously, Nanamin, they're the least of your problems. We're going camping tonight. Besides, they know –" You deliberately stopped talking, your ears turning red, evidently flustered.

"They know what?" he prompted, leaning forward to have a better look at your face to assess your mood.

But then you said, "You're distracting me."

"And you're being evasive."

"If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so." In an abrupt swerve which made his life flash before his eyes, you pulled over to the side of the road, letting go of the steering wheel after you killed the engine. "Drive us home then."

You motioned to remove your seat belt, but Nanami stopped you, shaking his head. Why anything never went right when he was dealing with you was beyond him. "That's not it at all."

"Then what?" you snapped.

Damn, he thought. If the two of you were already fighting the way you are at present, he couldn't imagine how things would be once you were in an actual relationship. Then again, maybe it was the confusion as to what was happening that was causing the unwarranted tension between you two.

He sighed. "You're just too erratic. I can't keep up."

"And you're too fucking vanilla!" you growled.

Nanami was appalled that you would say that same comment in such a way. Leveling his ire with yours, he spat, "That's rich coming from you. Didn't you date that Kamo kid?"

You were stunned at his citation of your former relationship, even more so at his childish attempt at spiting you. It was so atypical of him. "You..." You jabbed a finger at him, about to spit fire when you realized that he cared enough to notice. Your brows knit together. "How did you know about that?"

"You think I wouldn't notice that he's been following you around like a lovestruck puppy during last year's autumn festival?" Nanami scoffed, sneering. "A person like you with someone more boring than the vanilla you claim that I am?"

He was being petty, he knew it, too. The look on your face as you just ogled him in stunned silence says it all. It was as if you never expected him to ever retort the way he did. It was really unusual if he would say so himself since he never really indulged you enough to actually argue with you the way the two of you were doing at the moment.

Out of the blue, you burst out in a fit of giggles, the corners of your eyes watering. "Come to think of it, he acts more like an old man than you do..."

"You dare call me an old man?" He knew your argument was over, but he couldn't help but say it. There was an out of place sense of satisfaction that engaging you in a word joust gave him no matter how unintelligent and shallow it was about.

When you finally calmed down, you said, "I want you to have fun and have a sense of adventure for once. I swear I won't throw your dead body to the ocean."

His left eye twitched at your sentiment. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"Just say yes to me for once."

"I always say yes to you if you haven't noticed by now."

You snickered, starting the engine. "I want you to say yes to me now."

Nanami felt something tug at his chest. "Yes."

"Good." You leaned over and poked him on the cheek.

Nanami sat there, rolling down the window as you drove, letting lose and enjoying the scenery the car passed by on the way to the sea. For the first time in a long time, his face ached from smiling too much, unable to help it.

He knew it and he didn't care if he was doomed. He was in love with you, always have been and always will.

-end of part 3-

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210716]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 37: Shigure the Disney Princess

Paralogue 3: Surprise Duet

While the group is sailing to...somewhere, Azura’s sky knight son Shigure arrives, injured. Shigure explains that he is being hunted by the spooky ghost dudes we keep running into. His entire village was destroyed by the ghosts. Azura, being mysterious, says that the ghosts are hunting him because he’s her son. She doesn’t explain why, because Azura never explains anything in this path. Shigure leaps into battle to avenge his fallen friends.

This is a fun chapter. It’s split between three boats and which ones are connected changes from turn to turn as they move. After the battle, Shigure has a breakdown over the deaths of his friends and sings the only song anyone in his family knows to mourn them. Shigure, not wanting anyone else to die protecting him, joins the group so he may become stronger.

Shigure

I genuinely forgot how cool of a character Shigure is. His mourning of his fallen friends and desire to grow stronger give him a lot more depth than most of the portal babies. All I remembered were a bunch of Supports about art and singing. His design is very reminiscent of his mothers, in concept if not actual pieces of clothing; he also has armored shoulders that look weird but also establish that he’s more combat focussed than Azura. His blue hair covers half of his face, which I’m not sure I like. His personal skill, Perfect Pitch, gives him a custom Rally command that heals nearby allies. I actually think I’ll like this character.

Hey, something I noticed while writing this update: Corrin has two Supports for each portal baby. Or, because Corrin can be a parent for each portal baby, three Supports. The point is, male and female Corrin have different Supports with the kids. For some reason.

Support: Lady Corrin/Shigure

C: Corrin finds Shigure singing the magic song that caused his mom to die. Shigure is singing this song while riding on a pegasus, because he's shy, something that would probably be hard to do.

B: Shigure takes Corrin on a pegasus ride.

A: Shigure takes Corrin to a beautiful waterfall with a rainbow.

S: Shigure takes Corrin back to the waterfall and proposes. Corrin, being a propper, accepts this opportunity to marry a much younger relative.

Review: Fine, but a bit shallow.

Support: Lord Corrin/Shigure

C: Corrin finds Shigure drawing.

B: Shigure shows Corrin his drawings of his destroyed village and slain guardians, which Shigure says helps ease the pain.

A: Shigure shows Corrin drawings of a place he sees in his dreams, a strange world where everything is floating.

Review: My god, a Support conversation that foreshadows plot elements. That alone makes it great. Although, now that I think about it, it is entirely possible for you to get this foreshadowing of a mysterious world of floating islands after actually visiting that place, which is odd.

Support: Azura/Shigure

C: Shigure and Azura sing together. Unfortunately, Shigure, who apparently just hit puberty, can't sing along properly.

B: Azura rewrites the song, you know which one, to be a harmonized duet. Shigure acts really shocked at this obvious solution.

A: Shigure says that he isn't as good of a singer because he doesn't have the same magic. Azura explains that her magic comes from her pendant. When Shigure asks to use it, Azura explains that the pendant kills the user. Shigure freaks out and begs his mother to let him take on the responsibility. Azura tells him no and asks him to throw the pendant into the lake if she ever dies.

Review: This Support line has a fantastic A-Rank that does a lot for Azura and Shigure as characters. The other two conversations are just kinda mediocre, though. Side note, how old is Shigure? Because this Support implies his voice only recently dropped. I was operating under the assumption that he was one of the older portal babies, perhaps even as old as twenty, but that implies he’s very young.

Support: Shigure/Father

C: Shigure's father finds him painting and says that Shigure's unseen art is really good. Shigure's father decides to set up an art exhibit, despite Shigure pointing out that a war is going on.

B: Shigure is anxious over being unable to finish a special painting he's making for the exhibit.

A: Shigure shows up to the exhibit late, having spent the entire night painting a portrait of his parents.

Review: Kinda mediocre, all things considered.

Support: Shigure/Sibling

C: Shigure's sibling finds Shigure singing in the woods, surrounded by wild animals like a goddamn Disney princess. The sibling accidentally scares the animals away. The sibling asks to hang out with Shigure and he says no.

B: Sibling scares off the animals, again. Shigure tells his sibling that the animals aren't comfortable around them because they can sense their negative emotions.

A: The sibling admits that the animals got scared off by their jealousy of Shigure. Shigure helps his sibling pet a rabbit.

Review: The fact that I’m keeping this vague made me write sibling a dozen times. Setting that aside, this one is decent.

I don’t talk about the voice acting in this game very much, mostly because I don’t know too much about the VA industry. The Fire Emblem series recycles VA’s a lot. For example, Matt Mercer, who you know for appearing in everything, voices four different characters in this game.

He voices Chrom, one of the main lords of Awakening who reappears in a DLC chapter. He also voices Ryoma. Now, this makes sense, Chrom and Ryoma are both noble, heroic princes. Mercer also voices Shigure, who is very different than Chrom and Ryoma, but is still a royal and still a heroic warrior.

The last character Mercer voices is Azama.

[gamerwoo]

Wonwoo: Atlas

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/warnings: mafia au, angst, little bits of fluff here and there but it just adds to the angst tbh, alcohol, smoking, Woo being depresso

Word count: 2,632

Summary: Atlas shrugged his shoulders, said he'd drop that boulder. Call me in the morning when I'm sober, find me in the corner in a coma.

a/n: this was inspired by the song atlas by keshi (and if u like sad boy vibes i highly recommend his music!!!). things in italics are flashbacks (also i didn’t even listen to atlas for half of this i just listened to call me kevin play the sims lmao) ALSO im doing 2 other keshi songs (probably for mingyu and hongseok but idk) and while this technically is a mini series using keshi songs, they won’t be a continuation of this fic. they’re going to be their own lil things. ok that’s it goodbye

2 soon | the reaper 

Limping down the street, the streetlamps being the only source of lighting, Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wander. There were no cars going by at this time of night, not even a cool breeze to listen to the shaking leaves in the trees. The street was dead silent other than his heavy footsteps as he tried to make it home on his own. He was sure God or whatever higher power out there was out to get him lately since on top of everything else, his car had broken down and he was left to walk the rest of the way after calling Mingyu to make sure someone would get the car.

Had anyone been walking around this time of night, they’d probably call the police seeing Wonwoo awkwardly walking down the street with his hurt leg. Despite the nice suit, it was unbuttoned, slightly torn, and stained with splatters of blood. His white shirt underneath was half undone and splattered with blood as well, his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, his hair was disheveled, his right eye was beginning to bruise, and the left corner of his lip was caked with dried blood. There was a trail of dried blood going from his nose to his top lip as well, and his tired expression only added to his awful appearance. 

“Oh my god, Wonwoo!” you gasped when you spotted him from the window, Joshua and Minghao rushing out behind you.

It was one of the first times he’d come home beaten up. You didn’t know about his line of work when you’d first started dating, but when it began to become more serious, he had to break and tell you. Finding out your boyfriend was in the mafia worried you for obvious reasons, to a point where for a while, two of the men he worked with had to stay at the house with you to make sure you didn’t go off trying anything stupid. But you did often pace the kitchen, checking out the window that faced the street to see when his car pulled in. And one night, you saw him be helped out of the car by Seungcheol because Wonwoo was so beaten up.

“It’s okay, baby,” he reassured you as you rushed to him.

“Careful, careful,” Seungcheol warned, not wanting you to throw yourself into him or anything. Jeonghan had just stitched up his gunshot wound, but Wonwoo made him swear not to tell you that much.

“What happened?” you asked, looking him over. He looked about as messy as his clothes, and that was saying something since he was missing his jacket he left the house with, and his shirt was barely hanging onto his body by thin threads. You moved to Wonwoo’s other side, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I’ve got him.”

Seungcheol carefully leaned your boyfriend’s weight onto you, letting you practically carry the poor man inside. Wonwoo managed to smirk at how worried you were. He knew it just meant you cared, and that meant the world to him.

“You’re so cute,” he chuckled, which then turned into coughing that only worsened your anxiety about his injuries. “Let the boys handle it, okay? I’ll be fine.”

You scoffed, “Not a chance.”

Wonwoo pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket, taking a cigarette and a lighter out from the pack. He put it between his lips and lit the end before taking a long drag and letting the smoke waft out from his mouth. His eyes locked on the driveway of his house as he recalled how many times you’d dragged him inside, sat him down on the couch or leaned him up against the sink in the kitchen and patched him up. He smiled fondly, remembering all the times you’d scolded him for so long until you were just repeating yourself, only to sigh and say, “You know I love you, right?”. 

But now, he walked up the driveway alone. Despite his limping, there was nobody to carry him home. He had to push himself up the steps, pausing on each one to brace himself for the next. He walked into the house, expecting the echo of his footsteps that he was used to even during your relationship, but not used to the emptiness he felt in the house. At least when his shoes would hit the hardwood as he walked to the bathroom to clean himself up, he knew you were upstairs. But now, he knew he was the only one in the house, and that was a new feeling. A new but vaguely familiar feeling of being alone. He was alone before you, but he was so accustomed to your presence that he forgot what it was like to not have anybody there when he came home.

“Wonwoo--”

“Go back upstairs,” Wonwoo huffed, trying to get to the basement while Junhui and Mingyu helped him.

This time it was worse. You were used to him coming home later, so you no longer wasted an hour or two pacing by the kitchen window, but instead waited until you heard the heavy sound of his boots against the hardwood in the hallway, going toward either the kitchen or the bathroom. He wasn’t always hurt, but this time, he was in worse shape than he’d let you know. That was why there were more men with him.

“But--”

“_____,” he growled, his eyes glancing up at the stairway you were now frozen on. He’d used this voice before -- only a handful of times to show he was serious and didn’t want to fight you on whatever it was -- but it always made you freeze completely where you were. “Go.”

Mingyu and Jun continued to help him to the basement, Seungcheol and Soonyoung following behind them. You waited until you heard the basement door close before dropping your head and going back up the stairs to your room.

Glancing away from the staircase, Wonwoo continued down the hall to the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon he left unfinished on the counter before going for the basement door. He threw it open, not bothering to close it behind him because there wasn’t a point to anymore. He was lucky he managed to get down the stairs without falling down them before he went over to his little corner where his desk was. They’d used the basement for plenty of things before, but it was mostly where he kept his ‘business things’. That’s why you weren’t to go down there -- not that that didn’t stop you from checking on Wonwoo from time to time when he had locked himself away down there.

Wonwoo flopped down in his chair, opening the bottle and taking a swig. He stared across the room, trying to grasp the reality that he was alone in the house. He wasn’t sure when it would finally sink in, but it hadn’t yet. It had been a month and he still had himself thinking he could hear your footsteps as you tried to sneak downstairs to check on him, or the shower running with your soft singing drifting from under the door. But the harsh truth was that you were gone an he was just imagining these things.

At first when he got home, you were the first thing he would check on. He wanted to know about your day, what you did, how you were feeling. He was grateful when you had dinner made for him -- even if it was cold by the time he got home -- and loved relaxing on the couch or in bed with you when he got home. But he slowly started seeing you less and less. He didn’t see you most days at all, so you looked forward to the nights. But more often, he started politely turning down dinner to go the basement -- that eventually turned into straight-up ignoring it to go do more work at his desk. Instead of checking up with you, he started going straight to the bathroom to clean himself up before silently grabbing a small snack and retreating to the basement until you were already fast asleep and he was crawling into bed for 2-3 hours of sleep. It got to a point where you barely saw Wonwoo at all.

And as Wonwoo took another drink right after letting out more cigarette smoke, he knew it was all his fault. He got too caught up in his job. He loved you, but he didn’t realize he wasn’t showing it like he should’ve. He made you feel unloved and forgotten and overlooked. It wasn’t a 50/50 situation, it was 100% his fault that you left him.

He put out his cigarette in his ash tray and eyed the bottle before he put his feet up on his desk and took a longer drink this time.

-

“Wonwoo,” he heard your voice in his ear, trying to shake him awake after another late night. But he had the day off today, and you were excited to spend every moment with him that you could. “Wonwoo, wake up!”

A smack to his cheek had his eyes shooting open as he let out a gasp.

“Jesus Christ, Wonwoo,” Mingyu breathed, sitting back as he realized the older man was awake, “I thought you were fucking dead. How much did you drink?”

Considering the slap Mingyu gave him didn’t hurt as bad as the metaphorical slap that his awful reality gave him, clearly not enough.

“None of your business,” Wonwoo slurred as he struggled to keep his eyes open, definitely hung over from drinking until he passed out -- again.

“You need to stop doing this,” the younger boy sighed, giving Wonwoo a stern look, “not even just because Seungcheol’s fed up with it, but because it’s not healthy.”

“What does it matter?” he grumbled, refusing to get up. Instead, his hand searched the floor for his bottle of alcohol.

“Will you stop with that shit? Come on, Wonwoo, _____ leaving doesn’t mean the end of the world!”

“Have you ever been in love?”

When Mingyu was silent, Wonwoo scoffed, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Well it was still your own fault she left you,” Mingyu stated, rolling Wonwoo onto his back with his shoe. “You said it yourself, so you can’t say it’s not true. You neglected her and now you’re throwing yourself a pity party when you did it to yourself.”

“Get out of my house,” Wonwoo groaned, deciding to cover his ears instead of search for the bottle of bourbon. 

“You’ve been pulling this shit every fucking day for a month,” Mingyu spat, ignoring how obviously annoyed Wonwoo was getting. Everyone was annoyed with Wonwoo’s behavior so this was only fair. “Someone always has to waste their time and come here to make sure you didn’t drink yourself dead.”

“Then stop checking!” Wonwoo shouted, finally peeling his eyes open to glare up at Mingyu. “Go the fuck away!”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. You stood in front of his desk, your own angry expression dissipating and being replaced with hurt instead. The two of you had been arguing because he’d been so distant, and while you understood that the basement was where he got more work done, you didn’t see the need for him to continue working when he was away ‘working’ all day. But his anger bubbled over and now he’d crossed the line.

“Wait, _____--”

You just shook your head at him, eyes filling with tears as you rushed to go back upstairs. Wonwoo called for you to come back, but you just ignored him, slamming the basement door closed. Wonwoo groaned and sat down in his chair, rubbing over his face with his hands.

That was definitely the biggest push for you to leave.

And now here he was, in the same room his life started falling apart. Why couldn’t he wake up to you like he thought he was? Better yet, why couldn’t he wake up and have everything just start over? He wanted to go back to when things were good and he wanted to keep them that way. But life didn’t work that way. It couldn’t just reset, it just kept going.

But Mingyu had to be a nuisance and interrupt Wonwoo’s dreams where everything was actually going well and he was happy.

Mingyu sighed, taking a seat in Wonwoo’s desk chair. He rested his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. Why did Seungcheol have to send him to check up on Wonwoo? Why not Seungkwan or Seokmin? Somebody who had people they loved and could relate to Wonwoo? No offense, but Mingyu didn’t give two shits about Wonwoo’s broken heart.

“Look,” Mingyu said a bit softer, trying to be more level-headed about this, “I get you’re upset and you’ve never had to deal with heartbreak so you don’t know how to cope. But with this kind of...lifestyle, you should really need to come to terms with the fact that nothing will ever really go the way you planned it to.”

“That isn’t good advice,” Wonwoo sighed, not even trying to sit up. His eyes had even closed again, so Mingyu knew the older man didn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. “Just go.”

Mingyu stood, rolling his eyes and fixing his suit jacket, “Seungcheol’s going to be pissed, y’know.”

“Good for him.”

“Whatever,” Mingyu sighed. “I’ll send Seungkwan tonight to make sure you haven’t slipped into a coma or something.”

Wonwoo only hummed in response, waiting until he heard the Mingyu’s footsteps go up the stairs before closing the basement door. Then he finally pushed himself up off the floor, stumbling the whole time. But it was only to retrieve the bottle of bourbon with only a little left at the bottom. So he took the bottle, wobbled his way up the stairs to the kitchen to get another, and then carried on to the living room, finishing off the first bottle.

“Well, well, well,” you grinned seeing Wonwoo emerge from the basement. He was still in his ‘work’ clothes, but everything was undone to make it a little more comfortable for him since he was at home, “look who decided to show up.”

“What’re you watching?” he mused as he wandered into the living room and glanced at the TV. “Wheel of Fortune?”

You shrugged, “It’s 2am.”

“Eh, it’s not the worst show,” Wonwoo sighed as he let himself drop back onto the couch beside you. He normally would’ve scolded you for staying awake so late, but it was a Friday night so he couldn’t give any excuses as to why you needed to be in bed. Besides, he wanted to hang out with you for a bit before he was way too exhausted. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, shifting so you were leaning into your boyfriend’s side.

You kept your eyes on the TV, playing along like you had been before. You still continued to say your answers out loud despite Wonwoo sitting right there, but he merely chuckled. He thought it was kind of cute.

You were so immersed in the show that you didn’t even feel his gaze on you for the last five minutes.

“_____.”

“Hmm?”

You turned your head to look at him, seeing him smiling at you with so much fondness.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Wonwoo opened the second bottle as he stared at the TV, his reflection in the black screen reminding him that he was alone -- not just on the couch, but completely, utterly alone.

He put the bottle to his lips.

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 2.2 - Dracula and Princess Briar Rose

2. DRACKY

Where’s Yorimichi’s moped

Previous || Index || Next

Let’s go back a little. It happened last September after summer vacation, so was that already nine months ago? It was at a time when I lived in a much more stubborn, headstrong and serious way than I did now.

The real boundary line between middle school and high school was unmistakably the summer vacation of the first year of high school. That was what I was convinced of after looking over the girls in my class, who were slightly more refined and stylish compared to the first semester. Starting with the sudden increase in the number of girls who shortened their skirts—which had been in line with school rules during the first semester—they pierced their ears, hairstyles were no longer only unsophisticated bobs or long hair, but, I’m not sure, somehow the cut of their hair ends was stylish and their bangs fell diagonally across their face, and I kept hearing them talk about stuff like going to the pool with their boyfriends or their first times, whether I liked or not.

On the other hand, as for me and my teammate Ayano, we were immersed in club activities almost everyday during summer vacation, so we had nothing to do with those kinds of flighty summer experiences. Therefore, our topics after summer vacation were…

“By the way, did you go cheer for the middle school prefecturals?”

And other such dull subjects.

“Mm, no.”

“You didn’t go with the other kids from your middle school? For us, it’s like a duty for the previous graduates to bring refreshments for us.”

“We’re not that friendly with our advisor.”

I answered, while opening the cleaning locker with a mop in one hand. A step ahead, Ayano, who had finished cleaning the hallway, was carrying baggage for two people and waiting. I carried my school bag and enamel sports bag separately, but Ayano packed all of her stuff into her polka-dotted backpack.

“I only heard the results. They lost in the first round.”

My alma mater, the Monshiro Middle girls’ volleyball team, had advanced to the Hokushin’etsu Tournament for two years in a row since the year before last, but I heard that this year, they were miserably defeated in the first match. Well, I wouldn’t say that the strength of last year and the year before was because of me, but I was tooting my own horn on the inside.

“Ibara-chan, the boys at your school are strong this year.”

“Our boys? They aren’t any good, though? I mean, are there even enough members for an official game?”

“I don’t know, but they’re fourth this year.”

“Fourth!? You’re kidding, right!?”

I wildly threw the mop into the locker without thinking and a high-pitched sound pierced the steel walls. Ayano, ducked her head as she said with her cheeks puffing out, “I’m not lying! A girl from my middle school went to the boys’ game.” I was even more shocked that there were girls who turned out to the boys’ game venue.

“Apparently, they have an incredible setter. I heard he was a third-year, so he should be there last year, but do you know him? If there was such a great player, you would think that they could have done better last year too.”

“Wha…I really don’t know. Did we have someone like that?”

This year’s third years were a grade lower than me, but was there an excellent setter there? I had zero impressions of that. I was pretty sure there weren’t any outstandingly tall boys. I remembered that the Kuroba house’s Bon was a bit big in that year, but he wasn’t skilled at all.

“Well, boys can get good all of a sudden.”

Ayano murmured with an absentminded look on her face. I didn’t know why, but…I didn’t like that remark and said, “The cleaning’s done. Let’s go,” and snatched my things from Ayano’s hands a little too roughly.

“Ibara-chan, you’re heading to practice now?”

“Do your best!”

A pair of girls from the neighbouring class called out to me when I went out into the hallway. Both of them were around one-fifty centimeters tall and compact. Their club must be some cultural club.

“Thanks. Take care on your way home.”

After I patted their heads and passed them, they squealed with joy and jumped up and down with their hands joined together (A little bit, really, not even five centimeters off the floor).

“Ibara-chan, you’re naturally scattering pheromones again doing that… They say that the percentage of boy-girl couples in our grade is low because of you.”

Ayano said with a wry smile.

I had been on the taller side since elementary school, so I had always been treated as the “handsome” type of girl rather than “cute.” I was the ace of the volleyball team from my second to third year of middle school, and on February fourteenth, the bag I used for club activities would be filled with chocolates in cute wrapping. I had been wearing my hair short for a long time now. After a long holiday in my first year of middle school, it grew out a little, I was innocently told by the smallest and frailest kid in class at the time, “Long hair doesn’t suit Ibara-chan. You look more handsome when it’s shorter.” I cut my hair in my room that day with a pair of scissors. It was then that I realized clearly the character I was looking for, and since then I had come to discover my identity as a “cool and handsome” girl.

When I joined the Seiin girls’ volleyball team with a lot of fanfare as an ace candidate, I was 173 centimeters. It was a height comparable to the average boy. However, right now I still wasn’t even on the bench because there were so many second- and third-years.

What I wanted most right now was a bench member uniform, a height of 180 centimeters, legs for jumping even just a centimeter higher than other people, not pierced ears or a haircut with a bit of work on the ends. Breasts were a hindrance, so smaller ones were better. I honestly wanted to stop having periods because I didn’t want to have kids in the future.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The two-story row house beside the fence of the first sports ground was the club room building for the sports clubs. The first floor was mainly for the clubs that used the outdoors, and the second floor was for the clubs that used the indoors. The girls’ volleyball team’s club room was up the outside stairs and second from the front.

In front of the club rooms for the baseball and soccer clubs that were next to each other on the first floor, the first-year boys who had been locked out by their senpais were sluggishly changing their clothes. It was a common sight, so we passed by without paying attention to it. Half naked or in just their boxers, the physiques of the first-years still weren’t that much different from those of middle school kids.

“I can see your undies!”

Ayano teased, peeking through the gaps in the steps as we climbed the outer stairs.

“Go away, pervert!”

Saying stuff like that, the boys wiggled around and laughed.

“We let you see them for free, so show us your panties back!”

“Sorry, but I’m wearing shorts.”

Ayano purposely picked up her uniform skirt between her fingers towards the idiot boys who gathered under the stairs while half-dressed in their pants. I left Ayano behind without following her lead.

There was some booing. “What, shorts are the devil!” “What the hell do you think a man’s romance is?” But I could also hear some of them whispering, “Did you see? Suemori’s not wearing shorts.” “They were white, white!”

I was so indignant about the stupid boys who were crowing about something so ridiculous that I stomped up the stairs like I was trying to step through the steel steps and drop kick those empty heads, if luck was on my side.

“Excuse me,” I said, forcefully opening the door to the room.

It was the girls’ volleyball team’s custom to have the first years change first after school and then go and set up, and then the second and third-years would change more slowly afterwards. So, right now, there would only be first-year girls changing in the room—at least, that was what I thought.

There was a foreign element. There was a single different creature standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by female team members.

“…Why is Kanno here?”

I said in a sharp voice. From behind, Ayano impulsively peeked inside.

“Oh, Dracky got abducted!” She cackled.

Kanno’s enamel bag was at his feet, as though it had been roughly thrown in. The female members had all changed into the summer-like practice clothes of T-shirts and shorts, but Kanno was still in his uniform. The Seiin High School uniforms had black blazers and reddish neckties for both boys and girls, but due to the season, we were of course wearing the summer uniforms, the boys wore shirts without jackets, and the girls just wore blouses. However, only Kanno was wearing a long-sleeved hoodie on top of his shirt, his hood worn deep over his eyes and the zipper zipped all the way up to his chin, and what’s more, his hands were completely tucked into his sleeves. It was a getup that screamed unseasonable.

“Okay, we captured Dracky!”

“I think it makes sense that since you’re practicing with girls’ volleyball, you should change in the girls’ club room.”

“If you don’t hurry up and change, our senpais will come.”

“Or maybe you wanna change with our senpais? You’re surprisingly gloomy.”

Surrounded by jeering voices, Kanno shook his head with his head still hanging down. “Then hurry up and change,” one of them said and reached her hand out for his hoodie before he said “Stop” in a voice that was as tiny as the sound of a mosquito buzzing. He tried to shake them off, his long sleeves cutting through the air. This feeble attempt at resistance was amusing everyone more and more. He desperately pulled back his hoodie that was being tugged in all directions and curled his back.

His face, peeking out from behind his hood, was morbidly pale, but only his lips were exceedingly red. Together with the thinly scattered freckles on his cheeks, his vaguely Western features gave him the appearance of a vampire who was afraid of sunlight, so his nickname was undeniably right on the mark.

Glaring at the racket with my eyes half-closed, I stepped in and loudly tossed my things into my locker on purpose.

“You’re cutting into your practice time, so why don’t you change as soon as possible? I’m not interested in watching you change, and I don’t care if I’m seen either. If the rest of the girls are done changing, why don’t you all get going?”

I said in a stern tone, not only to Kanno but also to the girls surrounding him, and the girls obeyed me with embarrassed faces while saying, “Yes—” and “We’re no match for Ibara.”

I turned towards my locker again and quickly changed. I undid my necktie and unbuttoned my blouse, exposing my back. “I’ll change too,” Ayano said brightly, then slipped under my armpit and shoved her backpack into her own locker.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked over my shoulder and saw Kanno jump before turning around and starting to change his clothes. He took off his hoodie that he had been preciously wearing like a turtle’s shell and squirmed out of his shirt. When he curled his back and pulled off his T-shirt from his head, I was surprised. Huh…wasn’t his body thicker than it had been before summer vacation? On his upper body, which was so weak and thin that it could be called a washboard, there was a thin but definite layer of muscle added, it looked like… He changed into a black long-sleeved T-shirt from his white short-sleeved T-shirt (so there’s ultimately not much difference from the hoodie…), undid his belt and took off his pants. I saw his boxers peeking out beneath the bottom of his T-shirt,

…Ah.

Snapping myself out of it, I turned my face back to my locker. I was staring at Kanno changing while saying I had no interest in him. Weirdly flustered, I pulled up my shorts beneath my skirt while…I should have worn a T-shirt…before that… I think I felt Kanno’s gaze on my back again when I was only wearing my sports bra. I casually looked sideways, but Kanno had his back turned and was about to put one foot into his long pants. He also seemed to have gained a hint of muscle on his thighs.

With no place to look, when I let my gaze wander, I caught sight of Ayano’s cleavage as she was humming and changing clothes. It had gotten a lot deeper in the short time we didn’t see each other, and the bra that encased her breasts that were growing heavy were now made of the same smooth and shining material like those worn by adult women, with larger cups. It appeared that Ayano had also stepped over that “boundary line” during summer vacation, leaving only me behind.

***

I should add some things about Kanno.

Kanno Akito was a member of the boys’ volleyball team who practiced with the girls’ team for half of the week. …I know that didn’t make sense, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Due to health reasons, he couldn’t exercise for a long time outdoors, so he was allowed the special treatment of joining the girls’ team practice in the gym. This measure had been in effect since the Monshiro Middle School volleyball team days, and I, who was from the same middle school, had been “half” teammates with Kanno since our first year of middle school.

For example, if Kanno was an easily flattered idiot boy who was quick to say dirty things, or if he was an incredibly masculine muscular man, the way he would have been treated in girls’ volleyball would probably different. But you could tell from a glance that the actual Kanno was weak with a gloomy and withdrawn personality, a boy who couldn’t stand up to being made fun of with a firm attitude, so he had been a suitable toy for the female members since middle school. I think he was less than 170 centimeters tall when we entered high school. He wasn’t big for a male volleyball player, but more than that, he was too thin.

Getting club chores forced on him was cute—in middle school, he was pretty much lynched by getting balls thrown at him by a group in the name of individual practice. In high school, in place of the disappearance of this kind of physical bullying, being made the target of sexual teasing like today had increased.

There was one baffling thing—even though he was being subjected to things where normally it wouldn’t strange if he quit, but rather than quitting, Kanno never missed a practice unless for good reason. He had school-approved circumstances, and I think it was okay to show up to the boys’ team practice as much as possible without having to seriously participate in the girls’ team practice, but…

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Um, Ibara-chan, thanks for earlier.”

Kanno said in a small voice during passing practice. Passing practice was basically done in groups of two, but when Kanno practiced with the girls’ team for the first time in our first year of middle school, I invited him to join me after I couldn’t stand watching him standing there by himself as a leftover. So even now, three years later, Kanno still happily joined the pair I was in. Ever since I became friends with Ayano in high school, it had always been me, Ayano, and Kanno as a three-person group.

“I don’t want your thanks. I just wanted to change my clothes, I wasn’t looking to stand up for you.”

I wasn’t one of the members who bullied Kanno, but I wasn’t necessarily nice to him. In fact, I’ve never gone out of my way to stand up for him. Even if I happened to be present at situations like before, I would leave it alone as long as it wasn’t blocking my way. And yet somehow, he had been strangely attached to me since middle school.

Thanks for always helping me, Ibara-chan. Ibara-chan, you’re so cool… I wanna be like Ibara-chan too… With his pale face dusted red and some kind of enraptured look in his eyes, he had said stuff like that dozens of times until now.

When I was in middle school, I wasn’t uncomfortable with being branded as “Ibara-chan.” I was called that on the team, so Kanno just naturally came to call me by the same way. However, what about a high school boy adding “-chan” to a girl’s first name…? As for me, when I suddenly realized how embarrassing it was to call him by ��Akkun,” my old nickname for him, I changed how I called his name.

“Ibara-chan is Dracky’s knight, eh?”

I gave a side-eye glare at and silenced Ayano, who had been smirking and teasing me. On the edge of the opposite side of my vision, Kanno was nodding repeatedly, looking shy. Wasn’t it usually the other way around? Why was he being so happy and bashful when a girl acted as his knight…

The ball passed between the triangle we made. We passed it around with overhand passes and underhand passes for a few moments, and then spikes were added, and we rotated the setter, spiker, and receiver roles in order.

Every time Kanno spiked to me, the swing of his arm would stop for a moment before he hit the ball. There was a break like he was looking at my face before smacking the ball.

This late summer heat was relentless, and even worse, the windows had to be closed because the badminton club was in the next court over today. Even though the gym had turned into a steam bath, Kanno, who was the only one out of place of a long-sleeved T-shirt and long pants, looked unruffled. I felt hot and dizzy just looking at him.

Everyone had somehow been told that Kanno’s “health condition” was that he must not be exposed to sunlight or something like that. Not only outdoors, but he also persisted with dressing to cover his exposed skin as much as possible indoors as well, so Kanno’s bare skin was a rare occurrence which also became a thing. There was even a time when some girls got fired up about the “mission to take a picture of Dracky’s bare skin.”

“Hey, putting that aside, do you know about the middle school prefecturals thing? Did our boys really get fourth place?”

“Oh, yeah. I went to watch it. They really got fourth.”

“Who’s that incredible setter? Did we have a kid like that?”

“Oh, that’s the transfer student who came during the third semester. I’ve never met him so I don’t know though…sorry.”

While feeling a bit irritated at Kanno meaninglessly being sorry, I was convinced, thinking, So that’s how it is. If it was the third semester, then our grade would have retired a long time ago, so it was no wonder I didn’t know.

“Heh, he’s pretty amazing. It’d be nice if he came to us next year.”

Ayano carefreely cut in, and Kanno nodded with a “Yeah.” I frankly didn’t care about the assets and talents of our high school boys’ team, but I couldn’t help but be intrigued by that setter dragged that weak and puny Monshiro Middle boys’ team all the way to fourth place in the prefecture.

When Kanno was active, the Monshiro Middle boys’ team had a chronic lack of members, so they couldn’t participate in official games, putting unofficial competitions like inter-city friendly matches aside. Since the boys’ team wasn’t going to compete anyways, the girls from the girls’ team put him in the girls’ uniform and tried to drag him to the girls’ competition, but the advisor got angry as expected. But even if it had happened, the other team unexpectedly might not have found out. However, we probably wouldn’t have been allowed to participate even if our advisor hadn’t stopped us. The reason was plain and simple. Before the problem of gender, he was not up to the level of the regulars. Even in the girls’ team, Kanno was on the small side and he didn’t have the power.

This was a story from middle school. If the current Kanno dressed like a girl, he would definitely be found out immediately.

What about…his level then…?

My receive was deflected high up in the air, and Kanno jumped and knocked down the ball with one hand. It looked like his arms grew by about 1.5 times. I caught a glimpse of his navel from beneath the hem of his t-shirt that rose. The “rare bare skin.”

With a “Hoy,” Ayano sidestepped and went into cover. I couldn’t help but notice that her chest swayed with each action. Not just her chest, but she had also put on some meat on her upper arms and waist as well over the summer break. Ayano seemed to be the type to get fat easily, and when you took your eyes her for a second, she got rounder.

While Ayano was doing her best to chase after the ball with her short limbs, every single one of Kanno’s movements were relaxed and he seemed to be able to pull them off with ease. Since a while ago, I’ve been accumulating a noisy, scratchy something inside my body, something I didn’t even know what it was.

“Hey, hey, Ibara-chan, let’s put the middle school prefecturals aside. Dracky, I heard you were chosen as a starting member for Akitai?”

“What!?”

Even I was shocked at how loud my voice was reacting to the topic Ayano brought up. Kanno’s overhand serve slipped and he got a ball to his face. “Sorry!” Uselessly apologizing once again while pressing down his nose, he went to pick up the ball that had rolled away.

Akitai, a.k.a. the Autumn Tournament, was a prefectural tournament in early August, right in the middle of summer break even though it had “autumn” in its name. It was a one-off tournament, so the ticket to Nationals wasn’t hanging in the balance or anything, but it would be a big official summer game.

As mentioned before, the Monshiro Middle boy’s team was a tiny team that couldn’t participate in official matches properly. For Kanno, the days where he practiced with the girls’ team were probably more fulfilling than with his original boys’ team. Even without being in outside games, he acquired game experience from joining intra-team games (it goes without saying that the boys’ team didn’t even have enough people for intra-team games). In other words, Kanno was finally able to make his official game debut when he became a high school student.

I was going to congratulate him with a “Heh, congrats,” but,

“…Why didn’t you tell me?”

For some reason, what came out of my mouth was a biting and low voice.

“I’m, I’m sorry. There’s not a lot of people on the boys’ team…”

“Why are you making excuses for that?”

“I’m sorry…”

Kanno’s voice got smaller and smaller. He hung his head down so low that his forehead was touching the ball he was holding in front of his chest and peeked upwards to see my face. “Did, did I bring up an awkward topic?” Ayano’s face grew tight.

“Hey, I don’t want an apology. I’m asking you why you didn’t tell me. Don’t tell me you were trying to be considerate of me?”

The girls also had regular games in June and August, but I wasn’t even on the bench, much less a starting member. The girls’ team was a large group with thirty members, so it wasn’t surprising that the first-years couldn’t make the bench, since the second and third-years could fully cover the bench. However—at the August tournament, a first-year from another middle school was selected to be a bench member, which hurt my pride exceedingly. In middle school, I had participated in the Hokushin’etsu Tournament twice, so I was supposed to be the one who joined the team as the head of the rookies.

Beep, the manager senpai blew her whistle. Spiking practice was after passing practice. The team divided into two groups and scattered to both ends of the court.

“Oh, we have to move. Let’s go, Dracky, Ibara-chan.”

Ayano said, as if to mediate, then twined her arm around mine and pushed Kanno on the back. It grated on my nerves that Kanno blatantly let out a sigh of relief, but our senpai was glaring at our group who had stopped passing practice before the whistle blew, so we ran to the end of the line.

One by one, the first person in line passed the ball to the setter to have it set to them, and then ran in to spike it. After I ended one turn, I stared at Kanno’s form as he spiked after me while I returned to the back of the line again.

It wasn’t like he jumped very high, or that he had a lot of power. I just realized it again when I observed him. He wasn’t using his full power at all. The set was too low for Kanno, so he couldn’t swing his arm with all his strength. He could play at the boys’ height in an official game, so he should be able to jump even higher if he wanted to.

The height difference between the men’s and women’s nets was nineteen centimeters. While watching Ayano hit the ball next, I imagined another nineteen-centimeters of netting on top of the current net. Ayano’s butt, which had increased in mass than before summer vacation, swayed and dragged her body downwards. In my imagination, Ayano’s spike was completely blocked by the net.

Previous || Index || Next

[romancingromanoff]

What Happens At Disney.... Part 2/3

youHe: 

Just a bunch of Disneyworld fluff! Also more one-on-one time with Nat in this one; you get a makeover and her and Ariel compete for best redhead.  

Part 1 here//Part 3 here

Tony coughed, “So now what?” The rest of the crew is standing around awkwardly in what Cap calls their “civilian clothes.” He’s sporting a plain white tee and a blue baseball cap (of course, because America) while Tony has opted for a more business casual look with a fancy short sleeved collared shirt and a tie. That’s about as casual as he gets but you just hope that he can try and relax and have fun today. There’s nothing that Thor could wear that wouldn’t make him look like a super granola California surfer guy. His man bun is attracting a lot of female attention, but then again, you suppose that that happens most of the time anyway. Bruce, of course, manages to look awkward in whatever clothing he’s wearing. He has a lot of purple shirts but he’s decided to go with the one you got him for Christmas with a small pocket over his left breast that you told him was where he was supposed to put his matching pen you also had made. You think it’s sweet that he’s wearing it today. Clint is also wearing some shorts and a tee along with some actual worn in sneakers; he probably blends in the most with the crowd.

Then there’s Nat- your girlfriend. She could pull off anything of course but today she’s just wearing some shorts, a black tank, and some combat boots. She’s quite the opposite of yourself in terms of the color palette she prefers but you secretly love that her neutral-toned basic pieces allow her red hair to shine and frame your favorite part about her- her face and those green eyes. Her hands are casually in her front pockets and she would almost seem relaxed if not for the fact that she was perpetually scanning the area around her and moving her eyes around to check for potential threats wherever she goes. You sigh and grab one of her hands into your own and pull her towards one of the stores and motion for everyone else to follow behind you.

“Well, me and Nat are going to the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique so can you boys wait for us nearby? Thor, I think they sell giant turkey legs at that stand over there,” you see his face perk up at the mention of huge slabs of meat and he’s gone before you can blink.

“Aw, c’mon Thor! You can’t just push the kids out of the way like that!” Bruce groans and goes after him followed by Clint, Steve (who has entered reluctant babysitter mode) and Tony because apparently he just coincidentally wants to “go in that vague direction.”

“Okay, but I am not allowing them to touch my hair,” Natasha warns and you just give her a peck on her cheek before dragging her into the store. It’s like what you imagine Princess Jasmine’s salon is actually like as there are golden chandeliers, giant mirrors, and long silky curtains and drapes of all different colors decorating the giant space. Two of the stylists greet you with great big smiles and start giving you information on all of the different packages they offer.

“Of course not,” you smile. “Remember, this is my makeover, buddy. And I don’t want you stealing away my thunder anyway when you’re already a billion times prettier than me.”

“Get in the chair, you dork,” she snorts as you take a seat in the styling chair and the ladies begin their work. You decide to go with some simple makeup (just a little bit of blush, neutral eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, some lipgloss in the shade that Aurora wears, and light mascara with only a tiny bit of sparkly highlighter) and a giant Elsa-braid.  

“Oooh, help me pick out the perfect ears!” you squeal dragging Nat over to a wall of an assortment of glittery Minnie Mouse ears next. A pair of sparkly white ones with a red bow catches you eye which Nat notices and she reaches up to grab them for you.

“If I have any input, I’d like to see wearing these in the bedroom,” she says in that sultry voice as your face blushes and she slips them onto you.

“Shush, Nat, this is a public place with little kids,” you swat at her but can’t help but catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and you tilt your head modeling them off for her as she smiles watching. “But I do look really good in these,” you admit. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff,” you say to her in a lowered voice and pray that the store is busy enough that no one can hear your private conversation over all of the noise. She just gives you a grin which tells you she’s up to no good and pulls out her phone to show you a pair of very expensive, but stunning cat ears from a website you personally would have been afraid to visit off of private browsing mode.

“I don’t know, maybe playing cat and mouse could be kinda fun,” she says suggestively and you give her a quick kiss on her lips.

“Hey, don’t make me mess up my lipstick,” you warn with a laugh.

“Not until we get home, I promise.”

You meet with the boys just in time to stop Thor from consuming half of all of the turkey legs this poor vendor has and Tony suggests that you all go on a ride.

“How about the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train?” you suggest. “You know, from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?”

“I understood that reference,” Steve’s got this huge smile on his face when you mention what was one of the only Disney animated films that came out pre-WWII. 

“Well, apparently the ride is just as old as you Capsicle,” Tony mocks him and pulls up his phone which he has on a website that shows all of the times you have to wait in line for a ride. “Because the train broke down while the dwarfs must have been hi-hoing to work.”

You can’t help but get a bit sad and your sulk a little bit before Nat gently rubs your arm and shoots Tony an angry glare. “Buuuuuuuut,” he begins obviously intimidated by Romanoff. “Luckily, I am an engineering genius so I’ll see what I can do to fix it.”

Perhaps the only perk of having a super egotistical genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist for a friend is that they never take “no” for an answer and can talk their way into pretty much anything when you need a favor from them. The seven of you eventually found your way to the control room which was underground in the infamous tunnels that only workers were allowed to see. 

“I don’t know, Tony, I get kind of claustrophobic and being underground probably isn’t good for my stress,” Bruce worries as Tony is nagging him to help him with the tools. 

“Hey, it’s the happiest place on earth, so get the hell in here,” he says and you hear Bruce groan. You, Clint, Nat, and Steve just decide to awkwardly wait outside while they’re arguing over mechanics and Tony is criticizing the Mouse for “not having adept technicians” when you decide you’d rather go explore around the corner and at least look for a bathroom. You excuse yourself and head into the labyrinth that is Disney’s Underground Maze and can’t help but stare at all of the half-human half-animal creatures you run into. There’s Chip & Dale without their costume heads on so it just looks like two normal guys’ heads floating on top of the bodies of some obese chipmunks, the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland is standing in a corner cursing out his girlfriend over the phone, and someone else with Tigger’s head and a woman’s body almost bumps into you. That’s when you stumble upon what looks like another dressing room and you peak in to find that it’s full of all of the Princess character-actors putting on their makeup and wigs.

“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” a super perky voice catches you by surprise and you almost trip over yourself before the owner of that voice manages to catch you. She’s wearing the most magnificent mint green ball gown which is sleeveless. You know it’s a wig, but she’s got the most voluptuous red curls that frame her kind face so nicely that you can’t help but stutter as she smiles at you. After all, you’ve always had a thing for redheads and though she’s a little too bubbly for your taste, you have to admit that she’s very beautiful.  “Wow, it is so cool to meet you!” Princess Ariel exclaims before she starts complimenting you on all of the work you do. “I’m such a huge fan of yours!”

“Thank you very much, it’s nice to run into someone that thinks so,” you say. “And I’m such a big fan of your’s, I mean, of Ariel’s since I guess you are her.. or.. are you? Um, what should I call you?” you feel so embarrassed tripping over your own words confused about what the rules are for breaking out of character but she just laughs it off. You had no idea that the employees here could be so nice.

“I’m off the clock right now so you can call me Stella,” she winks and you try to play it off like you totally know what’s going on. “How long are you going to be here in Orlando?”

“A couple of days. I really want to visit all of the different parks.”

“Well,” she reaches into the dressing room and grabs what looks like a sticky note and a Mickey Mouse pen. “Let me know if you’d like someone to show you around, you know, after hours. I can give you the secret tour; get us a dinner reservation somewhere nice,” she winks at you again and then you finally catch on to what she means after she hands you the note which you see has a phone number on it. 

“Oh, uh-”

“Thanks, but my girlfriend knows I won’t kiss her if she’s been eating seafood,” you whip around to see Natasha standing there looking like she’s death itself about ready to take this poor girl away to hell. 

“I, uh, I gotta go,” Stella hurries into the dressing room closing the door after her and you’re left with an angry assassin with her arms crossed just waiting for an explanation.

“Natasha, I swear, I had no idea she was flirting with me.”

“I know. That’s exactly how she took advantage of you,” she almost darts into the room but you block the door before she can go kill anybody.

“Hey, she was not taking advantage of me,” you retort. 

“I saw how you were mesmerized by her hair and that stupid starfish clip.”

“It’s a wig, Natasha. You know I like my women to be naturally redheaded... even if they get a little green sometimes,” you playfully push her understandingly taking her two hands into yours and pulling her closer. “I only have eyes for you,” you whisper and she rolls her eyes trying to resist the puppy  eyes you’re giving her.

“Okay, but if she flirts with you again then I’m ripping that wig right off.”

Natasha won’t let go of your hand as you find your way back to Tony and Bruce who have finally finished repairing the ride. Coming back up above ground, the sun’s glare kind of blinds all of you and you notice Clint looks especially bothered.

“Hey, save that perfect hawk-vision of yours,” you pull out a pair of sunglasses from your bag and offer them to him.

“Thanks,” he says slipping them on over his squinting eyes before Thor, Tony, and Nat erupt in laughter. Clint just stands there confused for a second as his eyes readjust just before he realizes that the sunglasses you’ve given him are from the Pixie Hollow collection and are bright pink with tons of sequins all over the winged-shaped frames.

“You know what? My eyesight needs protection more than my masculinity, which I am completely comfortable with, so you guys can just go blind. Have fun staring at the sun,” he proclaims trying to block out the sounds of Tony struggling to breath from laughing too much and Thor’s giant belly laughs.

“Hey! I will expose you!” he threatens. “Security! Security?! Yeah, this guy has a giant weapon on him! Yup, the hammer guy? That's him. He’s right here.”

Thor turns around so fast with his hammer up to Clint’s chin. “You be silent right this instant, Barton, or else I shall smash you fairy princess glasses with my hammer right here and now.”

“No! Those are mine!” you scream as Natasha just keeps recording everything happening on her phone. 

To be continued...

[anghraine]

“per ardua ad astra” - chapter three

I STILL LOVE JYN. A LOT.

And in case anyone’s wondering: yes, Starfleet was originally the name for the Imperial navy, and you will take it from my dead cold fingers.

last chapter:

She hadn’t forgotten. But just for a moment, Cassian had meant the cool-headed spy, somewhere out there glowering at the unworthy, not the man who carved up his own body getting to her.

Soon, she promised herself. He’d be himself again, preaching about the cause, and she, well, she’d figure out what she was. Maybe a Rebel. Definitely free.

this chapter:

“She’s the daughter of Queen Breha of Alderaan,” he said. “And Senator Organa, though she’s had his seat in the Senate for a couple of years. By the way, there’s no Senate any more.”

“No Sen—” She’d think about that later. If she had to. “This Princess Leia is a traitor?”

“A Rebel spy,” he affirmed.

chapters: one, two

Jyn didn’t know what it said about her that she could recall Cassian’s measurements from a glance at his Alliance profile two weeks ago, but had no idea of her own.

Didn’t matter, anyway. The assistant sighed and sent her to an adjoining chamber, where hovering, ball-shaped droids measured some half-dozen men and one other woman, all in various stages of undress. Ten minutes of pokes and prods later, a slightly more human-shaped droid handed her a provisional uniform, and she escaped back to the requisition center.

Then she had to wait for the assistant again.

Adjusting her grip on Kaytoo’s head, she imagined what he’d say, were he—what he’d say. If there was anyone who would find it as ridiculous that she stood there in lines while Cassian fought for his life and Bodhi tried to escape torture, it had to be Kaytoo. An excellent use of your time, Jyn Erso. There’s a seventy-eight percent chance of your being caught and killed or blown into smithereens in the meanwhile. Just so you know.

At last, the assistant looked at her again. In a bored voice, he said, “Are you requesting a new K2 unit, as well?”

“Absolutely not,” said Jyn. She caught herself. “Not yet. We’re hoping to extract valuable data from this one.”

“Measurements, then?”

She didn’t feel seven inches shorter than Cassian. She gave them anyway, the assistant sent in the order, and she was free.

In a trapped-in-the-Empire sort of way.

It took her an hour of vague advice, wrong turns, and wandering identical halls to figure out the way to Room F1813. It took another hour just to get there, by which point she felt like her spine might collapse on itself. She typed Cassian’s code into the key panel and stumbled inside.

Like everything else in the Death Star, Cassian’s quarters were a sea of stark grey metal, bleak, severely regular, and devoid of anything like character. She had no doubt that a thousand other chambers looked just like this one.

A square room with two hard beds on either side. Two metal dressers and narrow closets. Two short lockboxes. Bright, steady lighting. And a refresher.

A refresher. Her mouth nearly watered. If a Starfleet captain didn’t rate luxury, he at least got decent amenities. And for Jyn, it was the closest thing to luxury she’d had in a long, long time.

All because they were caught in the Death Star, she reminded herself, and dread welled up in her again. This was a nightmare. They’d be dead in an instant if anyone guessed the truth, or anything remotely approximating the truth. She’d give just about anything to escape, if she could be sure of taking Cassian and Bodhi with her.

Still, she might as well enjoy this while she had it. Jyn set Kaytoo’s head in one of the boxes and headed to the fresher. There, she found a sink, mirror, toilet, and—Force, a shower. A tiny one, but with real water and soap. She could almost have cried.

Jyn set down the Imperial uniform and started peeling off her own gear, so caked with sweat and dirt that they stuck to her. Never mind that. Wincing, she tore the cloth and leather off her skin as fast as she could. In the mirror, she could see whole streaks of bruises—not like Cassian’s, but bad even for her.

She was alive. Nothing else mattered.

Jyn stepped into the shower. When hot water poured over her, she—maybe she did cry. Just a little. At her feet, the water swirled brownish-grey, even before she began relentlessly scrubbing herself. The soap suds in her hand darkened, too, but she could actually see her skin. Jyn blew stands of clean hair out of her face and smiled.

Force be with you, she thought at Quartermaster Brakas, then remembered what he was. Oh, well.

Now the water poured clear and clean down her body. Jyn lathered up her hands one last time and washed her necklace clean, polishing the crystal as well as she could. She didn’t think it had saved the mission, saved her. Cassian had done that, and Bodhi, and Jyn herself. But still, she thought of breezing through regulations, Bodhi slipping under the radar, Cassian in bacta, and closed her hand over it.

Thank you, Mama.

Ten minutes later, Sergeant Lyr stared back at her from the mirror. At her breast, the crystal shone bright.

She hadn’t come this far to turn back now. Lyra, wherever she was, would understand.

With a sigh, Jyn untied her necklace, sliding it into one of the pockets of her trousers. Then, last of all, she picked up her cap and set it on her neatly parted hair.

Jyn saluted Lyr and strode out.

This time, she managed to find her way in a mere eighty minutes. Bolstered by her uniform, she just marched up to a stormtrooper and asked for directions to the bay on the seventh floor of Quadrant G Northeast. Like most, he obeyed without question.

As she approached the medbay itself, though, her sense of achievement faded. It had been six, nearly seven hours. And she’d heard nothing of Cassian or Bodhi in that time. Nothing of the plans. Nothing at all.

The same medic as before stood at attention in front of the doors.

“Oh,” he said to Jyn. “It’s you again.”

“And you’re still here,” she replied. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Corporal Pralit.” He covered a yawn. “You missed my off-shift. I just started again.”

“Ah,” said Jyn. “Well, as you can see, I’ve been disinfected. May I see my commander now?”

“Let me check his status. Willix, right?”

She nodded, and he tapped into his datapad. After a moment, he swiped across the screen, as lazily as he did everything else. Jyn suppressed the urge to throttle him.

Cassian would be … he wouldn’t be …

She forced herself to even breaths. There was nothing that Jyn, herself, could have done for him. She’d handed him over to—yes, the Empire, but it had been the only way! They all would have died otherwise, or worse. And leaving him alone, well, she had left him to the best care the galaxy offered. It would have been suspicious to stick around like a fretful wife or sister; he’d be the first to say so.

“Alive,” said Pralit.

Jyn closed her eyes, then opened them. To her horror, her legs felt weak and unsteady, almost gelatinous. She hadn’t been off them since before Scarif.

“And?” she demanded.

“He’s been in and out of bacta all day,” he said. His eyes scanned the screen in front of him. “They’ve scheduled another treatment in an hour. Looks like the bones are healing well, so it’s got to be the lung.” Pralit scrolled down. “Oh, sepsis. That explains it.”

“Explains what?” she said.

“Blaster wound must be infected.” He gave her a patronizing look. “It’s shock to the immune system. Usually from bacteria. Even if he’s awake right now, he won’t be able to string two sentences together. But if you insist on seeing him, I can give you access.”

“I insist,” said Jyn.

“Figured.” The datapad beeped. “There you go.”

Walking into the med-bay, she hardly saw anything or anyone in front of her. She just repeated Bed Thirty-One until someone led her to a room with two female medics, a droid, and a man in a raised bed. Behind her, the door slid closed, and the roar of the bay disappeared into the hums and gentle beeps of the machinery.

“You’ll be Sergeant Lyr?” said the smaller of the medics.

“Yes.”

Jyn stepped forward to look down at the man. Cassian, of course—unmistakably Cassian. At the same time, she could hardly see Cassian in the person lying there, weak and pallid and silent. At least a dozen different wires connected him to the machines, as if he were the droid instead of Kaytoo. Liquid slid down the tubes, most of it clear, some bright red.

Cassian himself didn’t so much as stir at her approach. She had seen him sleep before, of course, in snatches between Yavin IV and Jedha and Eadu. But if anything, he’d seemed more off-putting asleep than awake. Still tense, still indifferent, just devoid of any sort of animating spirit, with neither his usual concentrated zeal nor his occasional half-smiles. Now, though, he lay peacefully, the premature lines on his face smoothed out, eyelashes motionless on his cheek.

“He’s still unconscious,” said Jyn. “Why?”

“Induced coma,” the medic said. “It’s preferred to anaesthesia for prolonged bacta treatment.”

“Good idea.” As long as it didn’t mean anything in itself, it might be for the best. Force knew what Cassian could say under anaesthesia.

Dryly, the medic replied, “Thank you for your input.”

Jyn would have prickled at another time. As it was, she only half-heard. She kept her eyes fixed on Cassian’s chest, the slow, even rise and fall of his breath. Her pulse slowed, as if somehow constrained by his.

With an effort, she remembered where she was, who she must be. She turned to the medics.

“He reacts poorly to anaesthesia, doctor. You are Doctor …?”

“Esten,” the medic said. She didn’t bother to introduce the taller medic, who remained silent and exuded an air of deference.

“Dr Esten, what is the captain’s overall condition?”

“Stable,” said Esten. “He’s lucky—”

“Oh, clearly.”

Esten rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Lucky that he didn’t completely shatter the impacted bones. Apart from the ribs, comparatively few were broken, and all have responded well to treatment. The fractures in the tibiae are still healing, but the kneecaps, femura, and so on are in good shape. He’ll walk like it never happened.”

“Apart from the ribs,” Jyn said. She looked back at Esten, whose pale, shrewd eyes peered out from beneath an uneven fringe of greying black hair. She could have been almost any age between forty and sixty, but certainly gave the impression of the latter.

“The ribs are a concern,” Esten acknowledged, “chiefly for the sake of his lungs, though they are healing at a typical pace. We have no reason to expect any unusual degree of trouble.”

There was always reason to expect trouble. Especially now.

“The blaster wound is a greater concern,” Esten went on, “thanks to septic infection. It has been treated and I believe is now controlled, but we’ll be keeping him under observation to make sure there are no recurrences. If it heals improperly, there could be permanent damage to the surrounding tissues and nerves.”

“Right.” At this rate, she’d have to break him out of med-bay. But at this rate, he wasn’t going anywhere soon at all. Brusquely, she added, “What sort of timeline are we looking at?”

Esten regarded her with palpable distaste, which Jyn considered promising. Sympathy would be dangerous—recognition of a deeper attachment, or a different one, than might be expected to exist between a mid-range captain and his aide. And if she disliked Jyn for the sake of an unknown patient, presumably she was a dedicated physician.

“Anything from a few days to a few weeks,” she said. “It depends on his response to the bacta.”

They certainly didn’t have a few weeks.

“Very well,” said Jyn. “When do you expect him to come out of the coma, doctor? I do not mean to waste time watching him sleep.”

Esten’s jaw twitched. “Hopefully tomorrow afternoon, Sergeant. But he will not be equipped for any serious demands on his attention.”

“Of course,” said Jyn. “I will return tomorrow, then.”

She turned on her heel and stalked out of Cassian’s hospital room, through the med-bay, and then out the main entrance, beating back the hot pricking of her eyes all the way. She felt faintly soiled. More than faintly. Did it feel the same to Cassian?

Everything I did, I did for the Rebellion. Not the words of a man who enjoyed the choices he made. Not even the words of a man who believed them right, except as necessary sacrifices for a greater moral end. Perhaps he hated this near as much as Jyn. But Cassian had the cause to live by, even his darkest paths lit by that clear, shining purpose. Jyn—she didn’t quite know what she had, even if she managed to claw their way out of this place. She believed, she hoped, she cared about the fight. She did now. And she wouldn’t give up, ever. She just … she couldn’t see herself existing in Cassian’s stark simplicities, everything bleak or brilliant.

In any case, she felt as if she walked backwards, back to Lianna. None of this for the cause, for some great end, just survival. But not hers alone, she reminded herself. Cassian’s and Bodhi’s. They needed her. That was a cause in itself.

“Lyr!”

Lost in her thoughts, Jyn had been paying little more attention on the way out of the med-bay than the way in. Now her head jerked up.

“Pralit,” she returned, and glanced past him. A chill raced over her skin.

A stormtrooper, heavy blaster in hand, stood waiting.

“This trooper insists on speaking to Captain Willix,” Pralit told her. “Some sort of official message.”

Jyn squinted at him. “Captain Willix is not in any condition to receive visitors, official or not. I am Sergeant Lyr, his aide-de-camp.”

The trooper saluted her and stood at attention. “RK-1301, Sergeant. I have an urgent message for the captain with regard to his last post.”

She’d know that voice to her death.

Bodhi.

Jyn and Bodhi walked purposefully towards nothing in particular. Nobody paid the slightest attention; audacity, she thought, once more carried the day.

But she had only rarely seen lone stormtroopers. Even in costume—in uniform—vigilance gnawed at her.

In a clear voice, she said, “The message, trooper?”

“Uh,” said Bodhi. “It’s with regard to his previous post, at the Scarif facility. Confidential.”

“Of course it is,” she said impatiently, and headed towards a random elevator.

The moment its door closed behind them, Bodhi took off the helmet and rubbed sweat from his face. “So I’ve—”

“Put it back on,” ordered Jyn. “You can never be too careful, trooper.”

Bodhi stared at her, then peered up at the ceiling. “There’s no—right, right. Sergeant.” He put the helmet back. “Well, there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first.” She punched in the numbers for her floor. The elevator just beeped at her.

“Captain Willix feared that the Rebel attack on the Citadel had a … uh, a more specific aim than crippling the facility. He was right.”

“Oh?” This elevator must not even be on the same system. Not that it mattered. She chose Floor Q13(G) and hoped it wasn’t busy.

“The Rebels definitely took something from the Citadel. The brass are furious, so it doesn’t seem like it’s been recovered. That’s what my commander says.”

His commander? Jyn wished she dared ask what on earth he’d gotten himself into. And how. Instead, she said,

“A file from the archives, I imagine. And what’s the good news?”

Bodhi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, head dipped as he adjusted his grip on his blaster. Jyn swallowed.

“Well?”

“We managed to track the file, or whatever it was, to the ship that received it. I wasn’t told the name, but apparently it was some sort of consular vessel en route to Alderaan.” His voice wavered. “We tracked the ship and captured the passengers.”

Abruptly, she felt very far away, cut off from her own body, or some temporary occupant of it. The plans had got out. They really had. And then the Imperials had retrieved them anyway. It was all for nothing. Chirrut and Baze. Kaytoo. All those soldiers who had followed her and Cassian to horrific deaths—all of it, every sacrifice, every moment of it, for nothing!

She laid a hand on the wall of the elevator, steadying the body that trapped her. A very ordinary, clean hand, she saw. No filth, no blood. Not even under the nails. Callused skin over functional bones.

Some small, remote part of her could think of nothing but clenching the hand into a fist and beating it against the walls until it bled, until the bones all broke and—and—

Doesn’t seem like it’s been recovered, he’d said. Even if it had been, of course, a random stormtrooper wouldn’t be told. But stormtroopers might well be told if the higher-ups were enraged over something. They’d be the ones sent to recover the plans, wouldn’t they?

Jyn lived again, the pulse at her throat entirely her own.

“All the passengers?”

Bodhi paused, then nodded. “Yes. Darth Vader himself captured Princess Leia and is bringing her here.”

“Princess Leia,” said Jyn, trying to think of who the hell that was. The Rebellion had a princess?

Of course it did.

“She’s the daughter of Queen Breha of Alderaan,” he said. “And Senator Organa, though she’s had his seat in the Senate for a couple of years.”

“This Princess Leia is a traitor?”

“A Rebel spy,” he affirmed.

Like Cassian. Soon there would be another Rebel on this very … well, on this moon-sized base. She might end up hundreds of miles off, or not. But nevertheless, here.

And a captive.

“I was transferred to this quadrant only today,” Bodhi said carefully. “I had no trouble, since Princess Leia and all the rest of it has everything in an uproar. That tells you how chaotic it is right now.”

Through a veil of horror, she replied, “Her capture is … is certainly good news. I am surprised that I hadn’t heard it yet.”

“Nobody knows the details,” he said, “but my commander says that she’s still managing to cause trouble.”

“I can believe it,” said Jyn. Despite her best intentions, her voice shook, either from fear or that sliver of hope. She herself couldn’t have said. But she thought: if they’d gone after this princess to seize the plans, and captured her, and she continued to cause them trouble … she must have done something with them.

Probably.

And whatever it was, if the Empire captured everyone onboard, then—what? Were the plans hidden? Lost with the ship? Or somehow passed on before the capture?

Jyn sent the elevator back to the med-bay’s floor. As they walked out, towards the correct one, she said,

“That doesn’t seem particularly confidential.”

“It’s all the transfers,” said Bodhi. “And the excitement, I think. Things have a way of getting out.”

Jyn thought of her father, and her voice trembled again. “I suppose so.”

During the hour it took them to reach Cassian’s quarters, Jyn either barked orders at Bodhi or closely questioned him, ignoring his nonsense answers. With anyone else, she might have enjoyed it. With Bodhi, she just felt like slime.

Yet again, she wondered how someone as fundamentally decent as Cassian did it. And this was just making someone feel bad, maybe. Not sabotage and assassinations and who knew what else.

Sabotage. She didn’t think anything they might manage could seriously harm the Death Star. But maybe something—plans or no plans, maybe they could make some use of their presence here. Secret cards up the sleeve for the Rebellion, even though the Rebellion itself could have no idea.

At the door, Bodhi said uncertainly, “Sergeant?”

“What?” she snapped.

“Are you … inviting me into your quarters?”

Despite everything, she had to repress a smile. He sounded profoundly unenthusiastic. A good wrinkle if anyone happened to be observing, and hopefully genuine if they weren’t.

“Don’t be absurd,” said Jyn. “I just need your comlink code in the extremely unlikely case that Captain Willix wants to hear you personally. It’ll only be a few minutes.”

She typed in the passcode and marched inside, pretending not to care whether he followed her or not. After a pause, he marched through just before the door snapped back into the wall.

Jyn sat down on the nearest bed, exhaling a quick breath. “Thank the Force.”

Voice still muffled, Bodhi said, “Have you checked for—?”

Bugs. With all her paranoia, she hadn’t thought of that. The privacy of the captain’s quarters had seemed like a sanctuary, or the closest thing they had to it.

“No,” said Jyn, and they spent the next several minutes combing the quarters for any sort of surveillance devices. They found nothing, which might or might not mean they existed.

“Never mind,” she decided. “I’ll risk it. We have to be able to talk openly somewhere.”

Bodhi, helmet in his arms, heaved a sigh of relief. “And there have got to be hundreds of thousands of people on this thing. They won’t be watching every random stormtrooper or NCO.”

That made sense. But her nerves still buzzed. She sat down before her legs could buckle.

“I can’t believe we did this,” Bodhi went on, and flopped onto one of the beds, armour and all, staring at his helmet. “I mean, I didn’t really think we could, even when I was trying.”

“You know what they say,” said Jyn. “Fear’s a great motivator.”

“Fear? You?” He turned his head to look at her, brows lifted in almost comical surprise.

She had always been afraid. Afraid of capture, death, loss, betrayal. Always something. The fearless didn’t live for survival alone, as she had. It made for a small, desperate life, but it had been hers. She didn’t even realize how miserable it was, until—

“Yes, me,” she said, meeting Bodhi’s eyes. The fearful didn’t always live for survival, either. “Maybe you noticed that I’ve been a bit over-cautious here.”

He gave an uncertain smile. “I’m not sure we can be over-cautious here. Not if we’re going to survive.”

“We have to do more than survive,” Jyn said. She desperately wanted to lie down, as well, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she leaned her elbows against her thighs, chin against her curled hands. “They’re one princess away from getting the plans back. We’ve got to figure out a way of stopping them.”

“Or none of it mattered.” She could hear his gulp from across the room. “But what can we do?”

“I don’t know.” Jyn didn’t think she’d ever been so exhausted in her life, even with Saw. Her head felt like a patchwork of a thousand different bruises, every muscle ached, and she hadn’t eaten for hours. Still, she forced herself to think.

Break Princess Leia out, Jyn’s instinct said, but they’d never get away with it. Not with no path of escape. Track down the princess, maybe, see what she’d done with the plans. They could figure out their next move from there.

And there couldn’t be a next move until Cassian got better. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jyn pressed the heel of her hand against the jabs of pain in her forehead. She couldn’t help Cassian. Not now; she’d done all she could for him.

“You saw Cassian in the hospital, didn’t you?” said Bodhi. He was no Jedi, nor Temple monk either, but she still eyed him. “He’s the spy, not us. He must have some ideas.”

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Jyn replied. If she could, she’d wipe the memory of Cassian limp in that bed from her mind. Forever. “They’re keeping him under until the worst is over. So not many ideas, no.”

She regretted the harshness in her voice as soon as she spoke—regretted it with Bodhi, if few others. Rather to her surprise, however, he didn’t flinch or even look that somber.

“How is he?”

“Alive,” said Jyn grimly. But no need to make things worse than they already were. She managed a tight smile. “The doctor thinks he’ll make a complete recovery. It’s just a question of when.”

“When,” he repeated. Sitting up, he set the stormtrooper helmet aside. “No way we’ll get away with this for very long.”

She honestly didn’t know.

“The Willix thing is real,” she said at last. “I mean, what goes for real with Cassian. He gave me his code while you were shouting for help. It’s how I got all this.” Jyn waved at the quarters.

“So we might make it.”

If the Rebellion doesn’t have the plans. She didn’t feel the need to say it aloud. “It’s possible.”

“I can keep my head down,” said Bodhi. “Is that all we do now?”

“No.” Jyn’s hands balled even tighter. “We need to find out everything we can about what’s going on. Listen to the troops’ gossip, that commander of yours, anything you can hear. But don’t risk your cover. I’ll do the same thing.”

With a heavy breath, Bodhi nodded. “All right.” He rose, his face strained as his armour jangled against him.

“And Bodhi?”

He blinked over at her.

Her thoughts felt sluggish, but they latched onto one thing. With a final effort, she managed to get to her own feet and walk over to him.

“If your unit gets deployed, go. It’ll be your best chance at escape.”

Bodhi did flinch that time. “But you and Cassian—”

“Go,” repeated Jyn. Setting her fists on her hips, she scowled up at him. “One of us living is better than none.”

He hesitated, turning the helmet over in his hands.

“You can try and get word to the Rebellion, let them know we’re stuck in here.” She didn’t think they could seriously do anything, but you never knew. Either way, if Bodhi got out, it’d be—worthwhile, in its way. Even if she and Cassian died the way she’d started out, stuck in an Imperial prison.

Finally, he nodded. “I will. But I don’t think it’s very likely for this unit. It’s a mess. Anyway, while I’m here, how am I supposed to get information to you or Cassian? If someone notices that we keep meeting up, then …”

“We can’t meet,” she agreed. For once, though, it was a problem with an easy answer: the very pretense on which she’d led him inside. “Give me your comlink code. I’ll sync ours up as soon as we have them.”

A bit sheepish, he read off the string of letters and numbers, readily accepting that she’d remember. She would, of course, but the easy faith touched her nonetheless. She didn’t even wince when Bodhi suddenly wrapped his arms around her, the panels of his armour biting into her bruises.

“We’ll make it,” he whispered. “Somehow.”

“The same way we’ve done everything else,” said Jyn. Awkwardly, she returned the hug. “May the Force be with you, Bodhi.”

With a determined smile, he put the helmet on his head and headed to the door.

“And with you, Jyn.”

[amongthesharks]

Twin Stars, Twin Hearts 2 (Bodhi Rook/reader)

Read on AO3: Here 

The first thing you notice is the massive pain running from your neck down your spine. You stir and it agitates it. There’s a muffled sound by you, in the darkness, then a cooling cloth on your cheeks and forehead. You feel your face twitch into a soft grimace and slowly open your eyes, blinking into the bright lights of what seems to be the cabin.

“Y/N…” The voice, Bodhi, says in confirmation of his own relief. “Kaytoo, she’s up.” He said into his comm. You turn your head to look at him. Someone wheezes, you realizes it’s you as your lungs burn with the large intake of breath. You try to move, but a hand steadies you. “Hey, no we are not doing that.” Bodhi softly, or is he talking normally and you just can’t hear clearly. Your eyes begin to slip close and he pats your cheek a few times. “Y/N, you have to stay awake. We’re almost back to Yavin. I think you have a bad concussion.”

“What…” The sound that comes through your throat is raspy and strained. Breathing stings and you start coughing and pain explodes through you. Bodhi mumbles to himself a moment and reaches out for a bottle and puts it to your lips. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head. You drink and the cool liquid seems to soothe you some. There’s a bit of silence, you feel like sleeping again but Bodhi begins to speak.

“We didn’t realize…” His mouth opens and shuts a few times. “We would have waited for you to be properly strapped… We found you crumpled in the gun well, smoke and blood. I only know so much about patching someone up... “ You look at him, trying to stay focused. Concern creases at his brow, he still seems a bit out of focus.

“Back…” More of a whisper than a question.

“Yeah, Looks bad. Not broken just.” His head tilts some and his brows furrow more, if that’s possible. “I’m just a pilot…” His mouth hangs and you smile, just a bit, and he softens.

“I’m tired, Bodhi…” You sigh, and let your head lull slightly to one side.

“No… no no. No sleeping.” He said in a slightly panicked tone. And you groan and try to move. “No moving. I promise, not much longer. Uhm…” he tries to push back his hair, nervous habit, but the cropped length keeps him from following through with it. “How’s your throat? Why… not tell me something…” You frown slightly, but talking might just keep you awake enough. K2 warbles over the comm, they must be coming out of hyperspace. You almost zone out thinking it over, looking at Bodhi’s hopeful face.

“In… Jelucan, I lived on a farm that raised muunyaks.” You smile at the memory. Your mother and you turning the munnyaks loose to graze when there was enough vegetation to do so. Helping you father with milking and birthing. “People used them… to go over mountains.” You swallowed thickly and began coughing again. You felt Bodhi’s arms around you, holding you still so you wouldn’t hurt yourself further. When the fit passed you slouched into him, a silence spreading through the room. Softly, his voice filled your ear.

“I was born on Jedha. Near the holy city.” You can feel sleep trying to take you, but though soft, his words hold a strange pain. Jedha. With the crater in half the world due to the Death Star. “My mother, she was beautiful. She wanted me to do great things and leave the planet. Do all the things she’d never be able to do.” He paused, easing you back down into a laying position. “She sold food in the market, the favorite stall of all the natives and pilgrims. Her hair always smelled of spices...” He trailed off again and blinked a few times, was he crying? No. But it was hard to tell, your vision was swimming a little.

“It’s okay…” You said giving his hand a limp pat. “It’s okay…” You don’t remember what happened from there as you seemed to slip back into darkness.

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

You awoke in a panic, submerged in a bacta tank. Either the struggle or heightened heart beat bought a droid over to the tank. It went round the tank a moment, observing before draining the tank, releasing you from the substance. Now, you stand in nothing but damp underthings shivering as the droid takes your vitals.You’re mentally still in shock and you’ll still have some aches, but all the other damage has been healed. There had been damage to the lungs that the doctors were able to heal in enough time to not have lasting damage. There had been lacerations to your back, but the bacta healed that up well enough. That was the worst of the damage. It took two days in the tank, and they bring you up to speed on your health. The doctors help you to the med-bay sonic shower. You’d much rather have jumped in the river near by, you still feel like you have a film of bacta on you. Someone had brought a pair of your clothes over and you dressed in silence, testing your joints as you move. You thought you’d be leaving right away but instead, you find that you’re about to get a debriefing...from Cassian Andor who looks livid. He starts slowly, going over some parts of the mission, but it’s not long before he’s just exploding.

“What happened out there!” He seethes, his accent making his words more pointed. You realize now it’s less debriefing, more chiding.

“We made it back, with the information….” You start, though your mouth feels thick and cottony.  

“You compromised the mission. You’ve never given me problems before, Y/LN.” My last name? He’s really pissed. You glance down but Cassian was unrelenting, his finger jabbed at your shoulder. “It was the easiest mission-”

“She wasn’t on the roster!” You clap back, finding your courage for a moment. “I can’t know if someone's there if the roster isn’t up to date!” A wave of nausea falls over you, making your body sway a moment before charging forward. “We didn’t stick around, we left, I shot some TIEs and we got home.”

Cassian tried to grab your arm as you drew past, but you snatched it away and froze in your tracks. He stared at your back a moment, He’s probably wondering if he should continue ripping me a new one, you think, but don’t turn to face him. It seems to be a nonverbal stalemate, but Cassian is the first to relent.

“I’m going to send you a datapad with the rest of the debriefing. You will come to me in the morning and report, Y/LN.” He said curtly. He was mad, he had a right to be. You should have never faltered during the mission, kept walking right past the group keeping in complete character. But you never thought the past would come back to haunt you like that. You straighten a moment and then turn your gaze on Cassian.

“Yes…Captain Andor…” You sigh and wander out of Medbay to find your bunk. You may have just woken up but sleep, real sleep, is what you wanted now. Your feet carry you out of the bay and turn you down the hall. Bodhi is there, sitting on the floor with his head resting back against the cool temple walls. He’s murmuring to himself with his eyes closed, you only notice because you practically trip over him. You catch yourself on the wall and Bodhi snaps his eyes open and clambers up to standing, moving to help you. But you wave him off and laugh just a little.

“What are you doing?” You ask trying to look less tired and more okay than you are. Bodhi gestures vaguely behind him.

“You were out for a few days. I had heard you woke and…” He trails off losing his thoughts for a moment, then he seems to jump to a new line of thinking. “I told them to hold some food in the mess for you. They just finished breakfast.” His smile is boyish, relieved to see you standing mostly hale and hearty. You waiver just long enough to see his smile wane, he tucks his head some and takes a step back. “You probably have oth-”

“Hey, no, let’s go.” You say, mustering some brightness to your voice. “I’ll rest better on a full stomach.” You swing an arm over his shoulders, feeling him sway with the motion. The ache of moving to that extent pulls at you, but this way you could almost lean on him. “Catch me up. Cassian was a downright ass in there.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen some. “You should have heard him when we landed! Kaytoo was no help. And I thought Saw was scary? Cassian being crossed is even worse.” He joked, which made you smile abit. He’s starting to make jokes. It’s good, or you hope it’s good. Bodhi didn’t talk about those days much, you only knew what happened from debriefings and rumors.

“I’m sorry, it was my fault, it seems.” You said as you both turn a corner, some pilots wave in your general direction, and you wave slightly back. “I was in charge, it’s my blame. I let my guard down. Put you and his droid in danger. I’m sure the datapad his left me is puts me in scathing light.” You roll your eyes some and look back at Bodhi who seems to have just been smiling while you chattered on. You give a short puff of a laugh. “Rook, you need to grow your hair back out. You look like you’re twelve.” He looks aghast.

“I do not.” He subconsciously rubs his face over his cheek. His beard had just started to slowly come back in, a short sparse stubble. You free your arm from around him and muss up the back of his head. You can feel the patches that are missing, where the scars from Bor Gullet were. He seems to notice and shifts away from your touch. Your thoughts from the trip resurface in your mind. The terrors he’s been through still are close to the surface of his psyche.  He may be making jokes, but it still pains him, embarrasses him.

“A bit. Does make you look younger.” You say, trying to keep the levity going. Bodhi scratches above his ear in gentle thought as you reach the door. You thumb the code into the mess hall, the smell of food hits you. Where you didn’t think you were hungry before, you feel ravenous now. Moving to the whims of your stomach, you trip forward, taking lilting steps toward the serving area.

You don’t get a choice, though, in food. But Rin, a female Twi’lek, had saved a good portion off to the side, and an extra tray for Bodhi. You try not to frown, your plate had a lot of the food you tended to avoid. Rin catches the look and shakes a pale teal finger your way.

“Eat it, all of it.” Her accented tone was admonishing. Everyone had it out for you today. “I made sure I gave you all the things to make your strong.” She gave you a pointed look and you slowly withered under her gaze.

“Yes, alright, Rin. I get it.” You mumble and smile, just a bit anyway. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your friend.” She pushed one her her lekku behind her shoulder, a Twi’lek version of a hair flip and walked to finish cleaning up. You take up the trays, and walk to where Bodhi had settled at. His leg bounced, his fingers drumming near his temple, anxiously working through something. You stride over, settling his tray down which startles him out of his thoughts, then your own. You have mostly greens, seems like that was the most left behind thing. Rin swore that these greens had more protein than the meat they served here but you were sure the meat tasted better.

“Thank you.” He said gently and you snort softly.

“No, thank you. I would have just gone to bed hungry.” You muse and push around the greens on your plate, finding the few bits of meat hidden in the meal.

“You were going to bed? But you just got out of the tank.” Bodhi noted curiously, leaning over his food some to eat, he didn’t care what it was, food was food and it was better than some of the food he’d get in imperial service. You would know. Pilots didn’t get the best meals, just fast ones.

“Yeah but I want real sleep.” You say tearing off a piece of the bread to sop up some juices. You don’t want him to worry about it or think on it long. “Tell me more. Was the data we got helpful?” You ask quietly and and stuffed the sopping bread in your mouth. Bodhi bobbed his head a few time, working through his bite of food before pointing his fork your way.

“It was. It got us updated base points, and we may be able to move bases soon. The Empire is still reeling from… from what we did.” He frowns a moment. You share that cold feeling too. There were people you knew, good people, on the Death Star when it went down. This was war, though, and it sometimes made you stomach turn. Both sides have done things they’re not proud of. You brush your fingertips over his. Go on, you try to say, silently.

“They are going to send out a scouting party to a few potentials. But I’ll be sad to leave all this. It’s so green.” He laughs a moment and you grin at him, sharing that sentiment.

“This Moon has been a good place, I enjoy how different it is from home. I don’t miss the dry cold of the mountains.” You snort at that. “I hope the new base is just as warm.”

“I don’t miss the cold at all.” He said excitedly. “I mean, home, yeah I miss home.” He said stumbling a bit over his words but he picked it right back up. “But cold desert nights? Terrible.” He waves his hand in the air as if shooing it all away. Then he’s laughing. And so are you as you double over a bit. You both see glimpses of yourselves before the war, a brief moment of being carefree. In your laughing you give a few ‘ow-ow-ow’s and rub at your sides. “You alright?” His voice still chipper, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, just a bit tender still.” You sigh and stab some more greens onto your fork. “Thanks Bodhi. Really.” You two both smile, a fall into a comfortable silence, and eat your meals.  

[kelpie-keeper]

Title: Bringing a fantasy to life Rating: NC-17 Pairing/Characters: Yonekuni & Shirou Series: Sex Pistols Part of: Trapped by dogs; One Shot Notes/Warnings: I’ve been wanting to do something like this, as the idea came to me while reading Harry Potter and Harry Potter fan fiction.  Just smut and maybe a working plot XD.  I know next to nothing about cosplaying, so if I make a mistake, I’m sorry >.>  Not too happy with it -_-

The sound of the television on low was the only noise in the room as he quietly read from the book, deciding on how he was going to write the report that was due for class by the end of the week. He didn’t have a problem with the subject, nor did he have a problem with writing it. The problem he did have was the fact that he had been getting distracted by his lover, who at the time, was feeling affectionate, completely unlike him. And since Yonekuni was rarely like that, he couldn’t let that opportunity pass him by. Words blurred into one another, eyes glancing at the clock that hung on the wall before turning his attention to the closed door.

He was the only awake at the moment, placing a bookmark where he was stopped before closing the book and setting it aside. Hands trembled as he remembered the night before, kneeling above his blond lover and slowly riding him while Yonekuni uttered words of a fantasy he had. One that had been bothering him, being told to forget it.  But how could he forget it?  Biting on his thumb in agitation, he pushed himself off the couch and with the remote, turned off the television before heading to the closed bedroom door.  Quietly opening it up, peeking inside the warm, dark room and seeing that Yonekuni was still asleep.

A few steps inside the bedroom, leaving behind the slightly cool air of the hallway for the warmth of the bedroom all the while breathing quietly as not to wake his sleeping lover.  He could remember blue eyes staring up at him, clouded with lust and desire, emotions that Yonekuni would rather keep hidden from him.  Lips moved, the confession spilling while blue eyes widened up at him, head turning to to the side, as if Yonekuni was ashamed to admit his fantasies of him in different situations and different roles.  Skin prickling from the heat in the room, covers kicked off to bare a strong back for him to gaze at.

Resisting the urge to trail his hand down the length of Yonekuni’s back, he turned his attention away and grabbed his wallet off the desk before exiting the room as quietly as he entered.  Making sure that he had enough, thumbing through the cash he carried along with several credit cards, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.  Grabbing his keys and making sure to turn the heat up in the hallway just enough to satisfy the reptile in case he awoke before he returned.  Slipping his shoes on, pausing as he thought about where he needed to go to get the items that he required to bring Yonekuni’s fantasy to life.  Swallowing, remembering what he overheard in one of the lectures that he had earlier that week, before class had started.

The talk of costume playing had come up and one of the girls in th group had pipped in about a store that catered to costume play that circled around movies.  Remembering vaguely of the shopping district that the store was supposed to be in, he quietly closed the front door and locked it behind him before setting off.  He knew a little about the characters Yonekuni had mentioned, having watched the movies, though he hadn’t picked up the books that had been selling for years, he was sure that he could pull it off.  The trail ride was quiet, middle of the morning had everyone already at work and school had already started, leaving him to sit quiet at the end of the train.  He would only admit to himself that he was nervous enough and he found out that when he got off the train and searched around the shops that he wasn’t so sure he could pull it off.

Gathering his nerves, he pushed himself to move towards the first shop, inside was bright and loud music played from a small stereo behind the counter.  Browsing through the small racks, looking for something that would be perfect for what Yonekuni wanted, he was a little disappointed to find nothing that would work for him.  Leaving behind the shop, continuing on to the second, a little darker from the outside, but once he stepped foot inside, it was completely different.  The store offering more of a selection, seeing the rows of hand made costumes and clothes before approaching the girl along the back wall as she reached up to turn on the air conditioning.  The start of a low hum and the flow of cool air washing over him.  He must have made a noise as she spun around, the costume she wore making noise before he apologized for startling her.

The smile she gave him was as bright as the costume she wore as she greeted him, though a little late.  Swallowing, he quietly asked her if sh had the robes and props that he needed to bring Yonekuni’s fantasy to life.  When she asked about the movie, he flushed and gave her the name of the last movie that he saw.

“Oh!”  She gave him a sly grin before leading him towards the back.

“We’ve got several hand made robes, one for each house and several when the character ages, size wise and all.  As well as the uniforms the characters wore.  Now, will they be in male or female uniforms?”

Her words made him pause, imagining Yonekuni eying the skirt he wore before flipping it just enough to bare him for blue eyes to see.  The faint giggling broke him away from his thoughts, flushing heavily as the worker continued to laugh.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to imply that you’d be wearing the skirt.  Here, let me show you several of the items you’ll need to pull off cosplaying as the character correctly-”  She stopped when he held up his hand.

“It’s not just me, it’s-” he stumbled over his words before continuing, “we’re both dressing up and I’ll need the clothes for both of the characters I mentioned.”  He could see the gears turning in her head as she put two and two together, even though she had curbed her enthusiasm about what he had planned to do with the costumes.  Taking his time, going through the dark robes that he needed, along with the wands that both his character and the character Yonekuni was to play.

About to give up, what he could find was in sizes that was just too small for both him and Yonekuni, the girl who had been subdued spoke up.

“If you can’t find what you need, I do make comissions and requests.  As long as you pay, I’ll make it.  I do need to take your messurements.”  Her words trailed off as she dug through a small pocket in her costume for a small pad of paper and a pen.  Just as she was about to write down his name, her pen paused and she looked up to eye his body.

“You know, I may have something for you in the back.  Please wait right here.”  She was gone before he could even reply and back quickly, holding two large garment bags, held high to be kept from dragging on the ground.  He didn’t see the crumbled up tag names in her hand as she quickly shoved them into her pocket and held out one of the two garment bags to him.  ”Why don’t you try this on, the changing rooms are over there.”  A quick point over her shoulder, he did what she suggested, though a little hesitant.  Closing the shuttered door behind him, toeing off his shoes and shimming out of his pants before pulling out the trousers from the garment bag.  His shirt followed his pants while the rest of the uniform followed.  Slipping the robes on, he stepped out of the changing room and heard her muffled sound of surprise.

“A perfect fit!”  She gushed, walking around him to make sure everything was in place.  ”You’ve got the glasses for it, eye color is off, but that’s okay.  It’s like this was made just for you.”  He could only flush under her praise, unused to complements of fashion and looks.  A wave of her hand, as if silently telling him that he needed to back into the changing room.  If only to get away from her prying eyes, he headed back towards the changing room, taking his time and thinking about how Yonekuni would react to him when he saw him in those clothes.  Blushing to himself, he changed back into the clothes he wore into the store before glancing into the mirror.  She said he had the look to pull of the character well and though he felt flattered, he couldn’t help but be worried of things that weren’t possible.

The sound of the girl’s voice, asking if he was alright pulled him from his worry, answering back before gathering the clothing and hanging it back up on the hanger and back into the garment bag.  Opening the door, the words of “Messy hair, as just got out of bed” reached his ears.  Turning to the girl and the flush and the slight shimmering of what must have been her soul.  He could only mumble a reply, unused to the attention before following her back to the counter, barely hearing her explanation as if she knew of his suspicions.

“You know, it was really weired.  A few months ago, someone commissioned me to make the robes and uniforms.  He gave me the measurements and the right information, but when I finished and tried to get a hold of him, I couldn’t.  He hadn’t paid for the costumes, but I think really that he may have just lost his nerve.”  At his look, she explained.

“Some guys get uncomfortable with their fantasies of having their lover dress up for them.  And the man who had commissioned me looked extremely uncomfortable, even though he gave me the information.  Which is sad, though.  He would look really good with the black cloak and uniform, it’ll look perfect with his blond hair.”  She continued to talk as she rang up the items, grinning a little at the flush he wore.  Perhaps he should have gone to a different shope.

‘Still,’ he thought to himself as he pursued further into the shopping district, ‘I got lucky that the second shop that I went to had the items I needed.’  Eying the shops that lined the district, nothing caught his eye before he paused at a shop that stood in the corner, dark and away from the light.  Though the sighs on the window advertised cosplaying items, the vibe that he got told him something completely different, away from the items that could be used in public.  Stepping forward, the incense that the store was giving off drew him in further and though the inside was dimmer than other shops, he could recognize several items that stood displayed.  Licking his lips, eying the toys that lined the wall.  Toys that were from movies and anime, made into sex toys that could be used by people willing to go further into character and explore areas that the shows didn’t explore.  Lubricants and fancy style rope lined the walls as well when the overpowering scent of the incense reached his nose, drawing him into a fantasy.

A mirror hung towards the back, looking and moving forward while a figure materialized behind him  Dark, lank shoulder length hair and a hook like nose looking down at him before a look over his shoulder to see no one behind him and looked again into the mirror.  But it wasn’t him who stared back, but the character he was to dress up as, to match up to the person behind him.

“So, I take it that you like the incense, yeah?”

A voice behind him, startling him out of the mirror like fantasy.  A glance away from the mirror, seeing a man older than he by some years.  Eyes flickering from him to the mirror and back, a smile that revealed intentions that weren’t the best in any way.  It was the quirk of an eyebrow that had him answering.

“Ah, y-yes.  I do quiet enjoy it, even though it is a bit overpowering.”  He found himself confessing, rubbing at his nose while trying to keep his features from from changing as he continued to breath it in.  The scent was stronger now, making his head and senses start to cloud.  The slight chuckle from the man behind him, looking at the mirror again before shaking his head.  He couldn’t get caught up in a fantasy that was nothing more than fiction, especially when the fantasy  wasn’t real or his to begin with.

Stepping back and away, apologizing as he turned to make his way back out of the store while he still could, while he still had control of himself.  Once outside, the sunshine had been replaced by rolling, dark clouds that were just waiting for the right moment to unleash what they held.  Holding the garment bags close to his body when he rode the train ride home, crowded to the point that he thought that he should have just walked the several miles home.

When his stop came, pushing through the crowd to get off, down the steps from the trail platform and into the fresh air.  A deep breath, the heavy scent of rain lingering in the air while the sky above him rumbled loudly.  A quick stop at the corner grocer, grabbing things he would need to make his lover dinner while Yonekuni studied for an exam that he knew was coming up.  Hand basket half full, pausing on his way to the register before turning and heading to the small section in the back, just for those of age to buy them.  Passing several rows of different types of alcohol, grabbing a bottle that Yonekuni had a taste for, even though it was a bit on the expensive side and he wasn’t that big of a fan of it.

Having paid for his items, juggling both the garment bags and the bags of groceries, he slowly make his way him when he felt the vibrations and the soft jingle of his cellphone.  Juggling the bags he held, reaching in and pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.  A glance at the screen, a smile to himself at the sight of his lover’s name before answering.

“Yonekuni?”

His canine’s husky voice murmured in his ear after the third ring, smiling to himself at the feeling he got from just hearing Shirou’s voice.  ”Hmm, Shirou, you’ll be home soon, right?  I’ve got class later this afternoon and won’t be home until later tonight.”  He bit the inside of his cheek at the little lie, he did have class that afternoon, but he needed to make several stops to some shops that he had been frequenting as of late.  Needing to pick up the items he had been eying.

“Oh, okay.”  The slight disappointment could easily be heard in Shirou’s voice before it picked up.  ”That’s fine, I still need to finish a paper for class and make dinner tonight,” he could only imagine Shirou worrying his lower lip, wanting nothing more than to be there and lick at the lip that would be slightly read and make it swell for another reason.  Sounds from the other end of the phone as Shirou quickly told him that he’d see him at home before hanging up before he closed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket.  Pulling his jacket closer as the sky above him gave a loud rumble, the fainest hint of droplets falling had him reaching for his umbrella as he stepped inside the store.  Looking over his shoulder, the rain that had just started to fall drowned out the greeting he got from the girl behind the counter.  A few steps inside, turning to the clerk that gave him a smile.

“I take it that he bought what I or “someone” commissioned?”

The smile he gave worked as she nodded, her hand out while he paid her for her secrecy.  He was lucky that she, a friend of his in one of his morning classes, was kind enough to do something like this.  Catching the knowing smirk she wore, he changed his mind about her being kind and instead, chose to do this for she could hold something over his head.  Before he turned back and headed towards the door, her words of “If the two of you want to do this again, just let me know.”  The humor in her voice and narrowing of eyes, so much like his mother that he shuddered and nodded, umbrella ready as he stepped through the door and into the storm outside.  Under the umbrella, jogging towards the store that Shirou had visited not too long ago.  It was a guess, really, that Shirou had went into the sex shop that was disguised as a shop that sold cosplaying items.  But the thought, the idea of his lover browsing through the items, eying the toys that were offered to any customers and fans that happened to frequent the small, personal shop.

He knew where the items he had thought about buying were, but since he had class later, he knew that what he had in mind would have to wait and instead, the lubricants caught his eye.  Many exotic and foreign, from countries far across the globe, picking several and left the toys behind for another day.  Paying for the three bottles, grabbing the small package of incense that was slowly burning  behind the counter.  His nose tickled, reminding him days long past.  Giving the man behind the counter a nod when his bag was handed to him, stepping back when the man smiled before bidding him farewell and left, flipping his hood back up.  Glad for the ledge just above the door, giving him room to pull out his umbrella and getting it over his head before stepping out into the rain.

By the time he made it to class, his jacket was close to be soaked, peeling off the wet piece of clothing to reveal the heavy sweater underneath.  In the past, he would have gone out with just a jacket or just a sweater, but now with taking better care of keeping himself warm, he faced a new battle.  Having to deal with the girls he used to go to when he couldn’t get warm enough.  He didn’t care though, as long as he kept Shirou’s gaze on him, away from those who tried to get the wolf’s attention when they caught a hint of pheromones that the wolf would let loose when he was frustrated or angry.  Smirking to himself, remembering the pathetic attempts others made when trying to court and woo his lover away, watching as they’d walk away with their tails between their legs in disappointment.

Shaking his head, brushing away the stray drops of water from his hair before hanging up his jacket to dry on the offered hook at the back of the classroom, along with his umbrella.  His purchases nestled safely in his bag, he took his normal seat towards the back while the rest of his classmates slowly trickled.  The sound of the seat next to him being taken, a glance out of the corner of his eye seeing the one girl he slept with when he worked in school.

“Nee, Yonekuni-kun, when are you going to introduce me to the dog you’re always smelling like.”  A sniff along with the drawl of the girl to his right.  Slowly turning his attention to a short girl, Inuyama-san.  Her hair in her normal style and the pout that she had taken to wearing when she sat next to him.  She had accepted the fact that she was only a one night stand and now was interested in who he was seeing.  The one time he came to class, covering in Shirou’s scent from earlier that morning had caught the Maltese’s attention, leading the lightweight to beg to be set up.  So far, he managed to push her off with the fact that the person, who the scent belonged to, was already seeing someone.  Of course, he didn’t mention that it was he who Shirou was seeing.

Just narrowing his eyes, smirking at the blond girl, he shook his head and answered with “He’s already happy with his partner and wouldn’t change him for the world.”  Even as he heard him say the words, his eyes widened at the slip while Inuyama-san crowed, “I was right!”

Ignoring those whose attention was drawn to them, he just tuned out his blond classmate while irritation filled him.  Now he had another one to keep away from Shirou, not that the wolf knew.  The male never knew he had admirers, which was good for him.  Having spent time together with the wolf, leaving his scent on what seemed like every inch of Shirou’s scent that would chase others.  But he hadn’t counted on the stubborn ones that wouldn’t be chased off by just a mere scent.  He could feel his lip curl in disgust at the thought of those below him and Shirou in status, wanting what was his because of what Shirou was.  Even the one next to him, curious to know more about the scent he carried.  The sound of the door slamming, his mood slowly improving while he pulled out his notes for the exams he had coming up, he couldn’t fuck this up right now.

By the time class ended and he stepped outside with his semi-dried jacket, which he donned for some sort of protection from the chill he felt in the air, the rain had stopped.  The air heavy with the scent of rain and earth, the sky rumbling threatening over head before quickening his steps towards the station that stood just blocks away.  Barely making it under the overhang of the station before the crack of thunder and the sound of rain pouring down once again.  With the train crowded, the scent of monkeys and other madararui assaulting his nose with those heading home from work.  Back stiff and irritation rolling off of him in waves while those that entered the train pressed against him even tighter.

Finally, after what seemed such a long time, his stop announced and he gave a sigh of annoyed and pulled out his umbrella the minute he stepped out and away from the trail.  Huddled under his umbrella, the rain pummeled him and the strong gusts of wind hitting him, chilling him even further as the long walk from the station to the apartment he shared with Shirou.  The stairs seemed to go on and by the time he stood out outside the door, he could only imagine the warmth that awaited him inside.  The minute he opened the door, the blast of welcoming heat and the smell of familiar surroundings.  Scents that belonged to the wolf and to him, the scent of home that welcomed him back.  Shrugging off his jacket, once again soaked, hanging it up under the vents with the hopes that the heat that was flowing out would dry his jacket even more, slipping his back off and dropping it to the floor.  Umbrella being placed with Shirou’s while toeing off his shoes, stepping further into their apartment to catch the smell of food being cooked in the small kitchen, his lover sitting at the small table with his book spread open.  Papers, most likely the one that was due soon, were scattered on one side of the counter, away from the stove top and the dishes that dried.

A step further into the kitchen, making a sound and watching the dark head lift and the small, almost shy smile before the book that laid before Shirou was closed and pushed away.

“You’re home earlier than I though you’d be.”

He stepped back as Shirou stood up and stepped close to him, nuzzling just under his chin, the faint touch of a tongue to his skin had him swallowing hard.  He had studied on the behavior of wolves and the wild, the way they interacted with their mate and their pack, his lover submitting to him with no urge to be dominate to him.  And now, when ever he felt the male lick at his chin, even just a hint of a touch had him shivering with want.  Restraining himself, he swallowed hard and nuzzled back.

“Class ended earlier than normal, though with the warning that exams were at the end of the week.”

Lips wet as Shirou licked at his bottom lip before turning from him, a reach into the fridge to pull out a chilled bottle and he reached out, grabbing the bottle from the wolf’s hands hand setting it on the table.  He couldn’t help weaving his fingers through dark hair and tilting his lover’s head back.  Gray eyes narrowing at him as he leaned in, brushing his lips across Shirou’s while his free hand tugged the male’s shirt free from the confines.  Warmth against his touch, sliding upwards to feel the heavy beat of the canine’s heart before pulling away.  Pushing and guiding the canine to side on the edge of the table, ready to part clothing and reveal a pale chest that was his to trail his lips down when the sound of the timer, which Shirou must have seat earlier, went off.

A laugh at his frustrated sigh, a promise of “later” had him agreeing to sit down while the dark haired male handed him the tumbler full of the liquor that had been chilling.  A sip, watching Shirou take his seat on the other side of the table.  Quietly watching the male eat, the flushed look across Shirou’s face refused to leave.  Corners of his lips, curling in a knowing smile, Shirou wasn’t as calm as he wanted him to believe.  It was the feel of a foot nudging his, the lick of lips that were barely swollen, almost begging to be sucked on, to be licked and nipped.  Trying to restrain himself, the foot moved upward, dropping what he was hold before pushing away from the table and grabbed Shirou by his wrist.  Dragging Shirou away without a word and towards their bedroom, his free hand reaching for the doorknob when it happened.  It was then Shirou had started tugging back against his hold, as if the wolf didn’t want him to find something out.

“This isn’t like you, Shirou.  You’re acting as if you have something to hide.”

He only chuckled as the flushed darkened on his lover’s cheeks and the worrying of a bottom lip.  ”I-it was supposed to be a surprise.”  A look over his shoulder, a soft smile that was unbecoming of him at the forlorn look his wolf wore.  Fingers lifting the male’s down turned head so the canine looked up at him.  Lips parted, cheeks that were still dark from the flush seemed to become darker and he wanted nothing more than to pull Shirou into the bedroom and him dress up in what he bought.  But the worried look, almost panic in gray eyes had him stopping, wanting to play more.

The soft smile he wore changed to one of a more devious nature, almost Makio like.  ”Why don’t you show me what you bought, if you’re so insistent that I don’t enter the bedroom.”  It looked like Shirou wanted to argue before sighing and smiling, leaving him behind in the hallway.  Once the click of the door closing was loud enough to hear, he headed back down the way he had come, back to the entrance of the apartment to his bag.  Grabbing the lubrication, pausing to debate which one to use when he got Shirou where he wanted him and the incense, back to the kitchen to pour himself more of the chilled drink before putting it back.  With full hands, back down the hallway to shift what he had in his hands to quietly open the bedroom door just enough to see Shirou pull his shirt over his head, the base of his uniform.  Swallowing hard, moving without realizing it, the door hit the wall softly with a thud.

“I didn’t think you’d look that good in them,” his voice low and thick with desire, “you look like you’d fit in perfectly as a seventh year.”  Walking further in, setting the lubrication and the incense, along with his drink, down on the dresser before approaching Shirou.  The widening of eyes behind glasses as hands paused in pulling down the shirt, covering the edge of the uniform pants.

“But-, you-”  Really, Shirou at a loss for words was something he rarely had a chance to see.  And though Shirou was to cosplay as the main character from both the books and the movies, he had made sure to tell his friend to make Shirou’s clothes to that of a different house than the one the character was originally sorted into.  ”I was right, you would be perfectly at home in Hufflepuff.  A perfect fit for me.”  Walking behind his lover, pulling Shirou by the hips and forcing him back against him, rubbing his jean covered cock against the fullness of Shirou’s ass.

“So perfect,” a hiss, leaning in to lick at the sweat that started to bead against the wolf’s skin, “I’ve been wanting to fuck you while you’re dressed up.”  A suck to soft, pale skin that was starting to flush with the blush that started creeping along Shirou’s cheeks.  ”My perfect Hufflepuff wolf, mine for the taking.”  Sliding his hands up the untucked shirt, fingers finding nipples and teasing, rubbing the pad of his thumbs lightly.  Slowly rolling the rapidly hardening nubs of flesh, enjoying the gasp of want while a shiver ran through Shirou’s body.  Lips trailing, hands moving across Shirou’s chest, unable to stay still.

“I’ve thought about you like this, so often.”  A nibble to the lobe dangling in front of him, trailing the tip of his tongue along the edge before biting down just hard enough to cause the one in his arms to jerk at the slight pain.  ”Just like this, your shirt pushed up and waiting for my touch.  Almost as if you were begging for me.  Nosing behind the male’s ear, breathing deeply of the thick scent that called to his inner soul.  ”Though no matter what you were,” eyes clothing, his right hand sliding away from Shirou’s chest and down to brush the front of black pants.  Even with the briefest touches, he could feel the excitement that the male had.  ”You’re mine to love.  Always.”

The confession was faint, even to his ears.  The murmur of his name, a turn of Shirou’s head and his lips were stolen in the awkward angled kiss.  A hint of tongue, tilting his head enough to invite more while his right hand expertly slipped the button free, giving him enough slack to slip around and inside.  Fingertips creeping inward, towards the curve of Shirou’s pale ass.  The pull of the canine’s head, away from his kiss while dark hair tossed back with the arch Shirou gave.  Finding what he was seeking, rubbing the pad of his fingertip while the ass pushed back for more, wanting more than just a rub.

“You want more than just a touch, don’t you?”  A question, asked as he licked a trail up the side of Shirou’s neck, a whimper, almost like a whine, was his only answer.  A more forceful push of his finger, Shirou’s body opening up slowly for the intrusion.  A low chuckle that turned into a strangled moan when Shirou’s hand  slipped between them, cupping him through his pants with words of “Two can play this game”.  Gray eyes narrowing at him, closing at the sharp pinch to his left nipple before pulling away.

“So this was your plan?”  Words mumbled against his neck as Shirou nuzzled to his heart’s content.  ”Do you want to bend me over and punish me?”  When the wolf pulled back, lips curling into a smile as Shirou’s natural and playful side came out.  He kept his tongue as the canine pushed him against the wall.  ”Punish me as the bad student I am?”  Swallowing, hands unbuttoning the shirt he wore.  ”And since I’m such a bad student,” a lick to his neck and a sharp nip as teeth sunk in, “I should just do this.”  A slip hand slipped past the waist band of his pants, curling around him.

The body before him slithered down his body in a way that would make him think Shirou was part snake.  He would think, if he could, but he lost the ability when Shirou knelt on the floor before him.  Hair mussed and lips swollen, eyes looking up at him, as if the wolf was making sure he was watching.  Slow movements at first, a nuzzle against him while hands seemed to slide up and down his jean covered legs, further up to his exposed stomach and back down.  The brief struggle with th straining button, the lowering of the zipper and parting of clothing.

His mouth dry, the warm puffs of air against the straining cloth that Shirou mouthed and nuzzled against, dampening the cloth with his kisses and the leaking of fluid.  Head bent, watching a pink tongue slowly lick, feeling the sharp incisors that raked at the cloth, turning him on even more when the head of his cock was freed by a hand pulling down his underwear.  The brief touch to the sensitive tip, reaching down to run his fingers through soft, dark hair.  The tug of his underwear being pulled down, along with his pants had him lifting one foot up then the other as the clothing piled at his feet before being tossed aside.  Watching as Shirou turned back towards him, leaning back against the wall, spreading his legs a little when bent knees nudged them apart.    Hands trailing up his now bare legs, feeling as though he was the one caught in a dame instead of Shirou, but at this point, with the hot mouth trailing down his cock, he didn’t care.

The bobbing head, working in ways that they male had learned what he liked and didn’t like, what turned him on even more so than the sight of himself being taken into Shirou’s hot mouth.  A strong hand, gently cupped his heavy balls, breath hissing between his teeth as the gentle rolling, certain presses had him rocking his hips.  Sliding his hands through dark hair, fingers weaving through soft strands of hair to wrap around his fingers, readily to fuck the hot mouth that surrounded him.  It was the gentle press just behind his sack that had him jerking his lover’s head back by his hair before hauling Shirou up and off of him, turning and pressing the wolf’s chest to the wall.  Forcing arms above Shirou’s head, with the other to keep them up while his own hands tugged pants down, slowly baring skin that would soon worship, leaving the pants tugged halfway down.

“I think I like you like this,” he stepped back and eyed the trembling form, his gaze landing on tightly clenched cheeks, the hidden hole that he had fingered not ten minutes ago.  ”Yes, just like that.”  Hiding the grin at the flushed look his lover gave him over his shoulder, a soothing and almost calming rub before stepping away.  The few steps to the dresser for one of the bottles of lubrication he bought, deciding on the soothing scent that would have the canine’s blood pounding and his heart racing for more.  Tossing back what was left in his tumbler before setting it back down to return to Shirou, kneeling behind the wolf and a kiss to a bare cheek.  A chuckle while spreading cheeks, revealing the small, puckered hole.  The quiver, his gaze flitting from Shirou’s face as he looked over his shoulder and back, the trembling of waiting increased.  Quivering and twitching, calling to him and making him wonder how such a small hole could accommodate his size.

Hands moving on it’s own accord, curling around himself while he leaned in, nosing his way into Shirou’s cleft.  Scent musky to his nose, primal and purely unadulterated.  A scent that reminded was his alone to enjoy.  Pulling back to open the bottle that had been been forgotten and dropped, a squeeze as he turned the bottle over, watching the slick substance slowly trickle out and down the cleft to cover the small hole.  Translucent fluid slowly slipped down while he set the bottle to the side, returning to rub his fingers along the cleft, covering his fingers in the lubrication before pushing the tip of one finger inside.  The push back of his hips as the wolf silently told him to continue, to hurry and sink further inside.

“Impatient, I see,” a low murmur against a cheek as the first finger sunk deeper, pulling out to add a second finger, “for a student who has been very bad, it would be my job to punish you.”  With his head bent, he hid the grin that he knew was showing, a grin that promised more than just pleasure, ideas brimming his mind.  A slow lick to soft skin before rising to his feet, snagging the bottle of lubrication on his way up, tipping it once more and letting the coo, slick trickle down his flesh before capping and tossing the bottle to the side.  The dull sound of a thud as the bottle fell, slicking and spreading the lube across himself before pulling Shirou’s hips even more, ass jutted out just the way he wanted him.

“No, no.  Keep your hands braced.”  He mocked scolded when Shirou started to turn, the sound of frustration out of his wolf was a l0w mutter and a snort.  Pressing the palm of one hand between Shirou’s shoulder blades, guiding himself with the other.  Eyes trained on watching himself push against the small hole, biting down on his lip when the head of his cock sunk inside slowly.

He wanted to turn around, oh how he wanted to pull the blond into his arms and hold him as Yonekuni sunk inside him.  To come and feel Yonekuni shudder in his arms, but with the hand on his back and the rubbing against his ass had him giving into Yonekuni’s orders.  He waited, the feeling of his body accepting as Yonekuni slowly pushed in, a low moan escaping.  Unable to help the feeling he got when Yonekuni was inside him, the feeling of control and the urge to let loose.  To let his soul free.  Pushing back, dropping his head with a gasp and biting down on his lower lip when the blond pulled back only to push back inside.  The hand that had started to press harder on his back slipped away, down and under the back of the uniformed shirt he wore.  Fingers scraped along his back for a chance as the one behind him move, the muted sound of skin slapping against skin while he longed to drop his hand down.  To bring himself off to Yonekuni’s rhythm and settled for folding his arms against the wall, pushing back against the blond, taking him deeper.

The sudden brush against that one spot that had him clenching his hands against the wall as he pushed back more, a sharp cry and clamping down on the flesh inside him.  Muttering from behind, unable to make out what was being spoken, glancing over his shoulder, as much as he could, barely seeing blue eyes slitting and narrowing at him.  Catching Yonekuni’s lips in a brief kiss, he gave up on keeping on Yonekuni’s orders and dropped his hand down to curl around his hard flesh.  Moving his hand in time with his lover’s movements, crying out when when Yonekuni pulled back to bury his fact into the name of his neck.  Hand being slapped away, only tossing his head back and plead for more.

He could feel it, slowly as he picked up his pace, his hips losing the rhythm he had built up in favor of wanting to finish and bring his lover off.  One hand tightening on Shirou’s hip while the other teased the cock he held, trying to match the movements he was making with his hips.  The hitch in the wolf’s breathing, the throbbing he felt had him tightening his grasp on Shirou, the whine of protest and the way his named rolled off Shirou’s tongue made him want to give in.

“You-ah,” he head dropped further away from Shirou’s neck to rest along the male’s back when Shirou tightened around him, “You’re not allowed to-”  He couldn’t finish what he wanted to say, choosing to sink his teeth in the bare neck that seemed to invite him in .  Dropping his hand away from Shirou’s hip, pulling the male fully against him.  Lips sought skin, snuffing away hair, hips pushing roughly inside while hands scrambled for purchase.  Settling for wrapping his arms tightly around Shirou’s waist and chest, he wanted to bee upset that Shirou’s hand had slipped back down once again, but with his lover crying out his name as he came.  The body around him tightening, milking him and forcing the snap like motion as he came.  Teeth sinking the skin of Shirou’s neck before him, thrusts erratic and slowing, forcing his seed deeper into Shirou’s body.

The shuddering of both their bodies slowed, leaving them to catch their breath while feeling the heavy pounding of the canine’s heart under his hand.  The wolf leaning back against him, a low moan of disappointment when he slid his softening flesh from the welcoming heat, wanting nothing more then to slip back inside.  To be cradled in his lover’s body as he showed him the way he loved him.  Sounds coming from the one in front of him, pulling away from his arms as Shirou stepped out of the pants that had been only pushed down halfway earlier, now pooled at his feel, stepping away.  Hiding his smile, knowing that the uniform pants that Shirou had worn were now stained with the wolf’s cum.

“So, you had this planned from the very start?”  Shirou asked from over his shoulder as he wiped away what fluid had reached the wall.  Like he, Shirou was left only in a shirt, which was wrinkled and still bunched up to bare the expanse of the canine’s back.  Faint scratch marks from his fingers, fainting marks from yesterday and the day before.  Watching the heavyweight unbutton the shirt and shrug it off, letting it pile on the floor with the pants.  He wanted to answer, but his gaze drifted down to Shirou’s ass and the slow trickle of his cum down the back of long legs.

“Yonekuni?”

He broke his gaze away from the trail of his cum to Shirou’s flushed face, seeing the male embarrassed and waiting for his answer.  ”Yes.  Ever since you dragged me to see those movies, I’ve been wondering how you’d look dressed up and begging me to take you.”

The creak of the bathroom door opening, Shirou walking on still shaky legs while he followed, the muttering voice of “How Slytherin like,” had him smiling.

“So, does this mean you’re going to be the professor?”

He felt a smile, no, a smirk grow on his face while he pulled off the unbuttoned shirt he wore and tossed to the bathroom floor and knew his lover would sigh when he’d pick it up later.

“No, you are.  I always wanted to fuck a teacher.  You, who tutors those who need help and who would be so good at it.”  His hand trailed down to cup a full cheek, a squeeze and a moan.  It would be later that he could swear that he heard Shirou curse him in an accent that he never heard the canine speak in.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 1: Anticipation

Introduction

What is your most anticipated game? Not the upcoming game that you’re excited about, the game that, more than any other, made you count down the days until its release. No game has ever made me as excited for its release like Fire Emblem Fates did.

Fire Emblem Fates was first announced in January 2015. Back when that trailer was first released, I was still obsessively playing through Fire Emblem Awakening, the game Fire Emblem Fates was meant to be a successor for. The trailer hooked me and I eagerly waited for more information on this bold new entry into the Fire Emblem series. The trailer showed a battle between two armies, a monster destroying a castle, a woman dancing, and a duel between two swordsmen. Between these clips, the trailer showed a return of Awakening’s gameplay, the addictive gameplay that’d taken away hundreds of hours of my free time. This trailer told us nothing, leaving me eager to learn more about this new story.

As the months went on, it was announced that Fates would tell the story of two kingdoms at war. More interestingly, the player would be given the opportunity to choose which kingdom to support, adding a layer of moral ambiguity and complexity to the story. I loved this concept and had no doubts it would be executed perfectly. The game released in June 2015 in Japan, but American fans had to wait until January of the next year to play it.

I bought the game as soon as it came out.

And I loved it. I played through all three routes half a dozen times each. For about six months, Fire Emblem Fates was the main game I played.

I haven’t played Fates in four and a half years. I don’t know why I went from spending multiple hours each day playing it to dropping it and never going back. I’ve played Awakening about once a year since then, but I haven’t gone back to Fates for some reason.

Since its release, Fates has gained a certain...reputation among the Fire Emblem fanbase. Put bluntly, it’s widely considered to be the worst Fire Emblem game. And, to be honest...I can kinda see why. Looking back, the game’s writing was filled to the brim with problems. But still, I can’t bring myself to hate the game like other Fire Emblem fans. I still remember asking my mom to preorder it for my Christmas present when I was fifteen. I still remember devoting hours of my life to this game.

So, I’m left with this quandary. Who should I trust? Other fans, or the memories of my youth? Is Fates really as bad as people say? Well, I kinda want to figure that out for myself. And I think the only way to figure this out is to obsessively play the game.

Over the next few months, I’m going to do a deep dive through Fire Emblem Fates and post my thoughts on this blog. I’m going to go through every chapter, every support conversation, every part of this game to answer the question: is Fire Emblem Fates a good game?

Opening Cutscene

Booting up my copy of Birthright for the first time in years, I’m greeted with an opening cutscene containing much of the footage from the trailer. It’s worth noting that the two armies from the trailer have very different aesthetics, one being heavily influenced by feudal Japan and one being heavily influenced by medieval Europe. The transition from the battle to the woman dancing is done by zooming out, revealing that this battle is actually taking place inside a painting. I actually really like this, it shows that the hostilities that this game is centered on have been going on for a long time.

Another thing to note: the song the dancing woman is singing has been translated into English. I’ll be going through the Lost in Thoughts All Alone’s lyrics and analyzing them when they appear in the actual story. The dance scene leads into circling shots of two families; judging from their different styles and fancy clothing, they are presumably related to the two kingdoms at war. The eastern family has a red and white color scheme, while the western one has a black and purple color scheme.

After that, the camera pans into a deep chasm until it arrives in a land of floating castles and islands, which looks interesting. Next, the opening cutscene shows the dancer in a lake, being choked by a large dragon-like creature. As the creature pushes her further underwater, its scales turn into light and fade away, turning into a humanoid form. Finally, the trailer shows the two swordsmen clashing as the dancer freaks out, setting her up as being an in-between that doesn’t want this conflict to grow. Her necklace flies off as she panics and lands in a pool of dark blue water, bringing us to the main menu.

The opening cutscene, like the trailer, hooked me in and made me excited to play this game. Even though I know that the game is going to bungle the story beats it sets up, I’m still excited to dive right it.

While staring at the dark title screen, which features only the quiet sound of waves for background noise, I get a strange hint of nostalgia. It’s a weird type of nostalgia, though. When I replied Awakening last fall, it felt familiar and comforting. Coming back to Fates, it doesn’t feel familiar. I recognize it, and it’s nostalgic, but it isn’t comforting. It’s like nostalgia for something I’ve forgotten, if that makes sense.

Character Creation

Jumping in, I am presented with three settings each for two types of difficulty. Normal/Hard/Lunatic control the strength of enemies, while Phoenix/Casual/Classic determine whether or not units come back to life. I’ll be checking out the other difficulties in a later entry, but for now, I create a Normal/Casual save file. Yes, it’s taking the easy path. But I barely remember this game and am playing it on a deadline, I don’t have the time to restart every level multiple times.

Next comes the character creator. We’re shown the player Avatar standing at the bottom of a lake and given the ability to customize gender, build, hairstyle, hair decoration (if a girl), hair color, face, scars, and voice. None of the options look bad, but the fact that it’s just choosing from a set list of faces is a bit disappointing. Understandable, considering the fact that these assets are drawn in, but that just raises the question of why there needed to be customization in the first place.

A few oddities about the character creator: hairstyles are sorted on two axis chart of Stylish/Simple vs Wild/Slick for boys and Long/Short vs Cute/Wild for girls. I don’t have time to go into each hairstyle, some are better than the canon versions, some are absolutely ridiculous, some are just boring. The short build is the canon design for Male Corrin while the tall build is canon for Female Corrin. This is probably for the best, because Short Girl Corrin looks like she’s eight. Finally, while both choices have three voice choices, two of Male Corrin’s choices are played by Cam Clarke (Corrin’s other male voice is Yuri Lowenthal, while Female Corrin’s voices are performed by Danielle Judovits, Marcella Lentz-Pope, and Stephanie Lemelin). Later games featuring Corrin stick with Clarke and Lentz-Pope.

I flip a coin and end up deciding on Female Corrin. I go with the generic design, because I really don’t care enough to customize her. Speaking of design, Corrin’s design is a mixed bag. Regardless of player choice, Corrin always wears the same outfit: a grey, black, and white suit of armor with a blue cape. Corrin’s generic hair color is also grey, but like a pinkish grey. I do appreciate Corrin being associated with grey, gold, and blue, making them visually appear to be between worlds, but I personally think the armor looks too complicated, looking more like a striped suit than actual armor. I also don’t get why it has a neck cuff.

Also, Corrin is barefoot. Always. This does give Corrin a sort of animalistic appearance, but that design element isn’t present anywhere else in Corrin’s design. Fire Emblem Awakening was kinda infamous for the fact that none of its characters had feet on their models and I get the vague feeling this game is overcompensating.

Next, we get to the details that actually matter. Name (I went with Corrin, because it’s the canon name and I don’t relate to this character at all), Birthday, Boon, Bane, and Talent. Boon and Bane determine stat growths, but they are labeled by personality traits instead of the actual stars, which is both more immersive and slightly annoying. I made Corrin Quick and Unlucky. Talent determines what Classes are available to you. I didn’t care, so I spun it randomly. It landed on Mercenary.

Prologue: The Ties that Bind

Now that we have our character created, let’s start the game. The game starts with the dancer singing Lost in Thoughts All Alone at the shore of a lake before walking into the lake and sinking below the waves. The song continues as she goes underwater, which means she must be amazing at ventriloquism. As she goes deeper underwater, ruins start to appear, floating in the water. The dancer swims into a bright light and disappears.

Smash cut to the Western prince riding on a horse, commanding an army as they charge into battle. The Eastern prince charges through his army, wielding a sword surrounded by lightning. The anime cutscenes in this game are beautifully animated and incredibly cool to watch. The Eastern prince introduces himself as Ryoma of Hoshido and challenges the Western prince, Xander of Nohr, to a duel. Xander accepts and charges into battle, wielding a sword surrounded by shadowy purple fog. The two clash as the cutscene ends.

We then see Corrin and a Hoshidan Pegasus Rider named Hinoka fighting an enemy, This fight is rendered as an actual game cutscene. Side note, the fact that this scripted battle features Hinoka guarding an attack for Corrin is a great way to foreshadow that mechanic. Hinoka mentions that Corrin looks distracted and reassures her, pointing out that all of Corrin’s siblings are here.

The game then moves onto introducing basic mechanics. If you move your cursor away and look at the other units on the battlefield, you’ll notice that all of them have unique names and designs. Fire Emblem Fates shows both armies off to you during the prologue, which is really interesting. Still, it must be noted that the Nohrian Units are marked as enemies and the Hoshidan Units are marked as allies. This isn’t super important now, but keep it in mind.

Between turns, Ryoma asks Xander why he’s invading and mentions a cowardly attack. Xander tells him to surrender and the two fight some more, both doing decent damage. The camera pans over to Xander’s siblings. The youngest of them, Elise, mentions that, due to a bridge collapse, they can’t get over to Corrin. Her older sister, Camilla, tells her not to worry, because their royal blood allows them to manipulate dragon veins. Camilla moves over to the river and a fireball flies out of her, striking the river and evaporating it. The third of Xander’s siblings, Leo, tells Elise to stay back as they attack the Hoshidans. The Hoshidan royals remark that Camilla’s use of a dragon vein means she’s royalty and the Hoshidan prince Tamuki smirks, saying that he’s always wanted to use a Nohrian royal as target practice.

The two armies of named characters start fighting and a Nohrian general named Hans shows up with an army of reinforcements. He then refers to his own army as cannon fodder and says king Garon sent him to kill them all, because he’s very obviously an evil person. A Hoshidan general shows up and we get some more tutorials as Corrin and Takumi beat up a single redshirt. And then the level just ends.

Corrin and the Hoshidan royals run up to the bridge to help out Ryoma. Xander calls out to Corrin, happy to have found her alive and well. He beckons her to come back to her family, which angers Ryoma, who shouts that Corrin is his sister. Xander counters, saying that Corrin is HIS sister. The other royals argue over which family owns Corrin and Hinoka states that the Nohrians kidnapped her. Xander points out that the Nohrians raised Corrin since she was a child and are her real family. As the two families fight over Corrin, the screen fades to white and we hear voices yelling for Corrin to wake up.

The prologue features some good teaching of mechanics, some bad teaching of mechanics, and an introduction to the game’s plot. It introduces two countries at war and Corrin, a bridge between the two that is caught up in this war. I just have one question.

What even is this chapter? It isn’t in media res, the actual point in the game this chapter is playing off of happens differently. The fact that it cuts to Corrin waking up implies that it’s a premonition of the future, but Corrin can’t see the future in other parts of the game. At least, I don’t remember that ever happening. Sure, this chapter introduces the plot, but it does it in such a confusing way.

Awakening did something similar to this, admittedly, but Awakening is a game about time travel. That scene happened, just in a different timeline. Awakening’s use of media res both set up the plot and helped foreshadow the game’s main twist.

Also, the Hoshidans are allies and the Nohrians are enemies. In a game about a morally grey conflict between two sides made up of real, suffering people, it’s not great to start out by calling one of them evil.

These two traits, aping Awakening without knowing why it worked and failing to be a morally grey story, are going to become much more apparent as the game goes on...