#i think the latter half of the season may help link up some of the narrative threads more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miabebe · 2 months ago

Text

Camp Seventeen: Chapter 2

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13 (Soonyoung x reader x Minghao)

Word count - 13K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up!

Previous chapter

Chapter summary - As you delve deeper into the world of the demigods, a party throws you spiraling down a road less taken. While it seems there's one member who may be able to help you with it, there's another you want to lend a hand to. And more.

A/n - I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! And if you enjoyed reading, please don't forget to leave feedback in the comments or tags - we've got lots of chapters to go and hearing thoughts really helps <3

Smut warnings - I'm trying this thing where I won't be adding any detailed warnings as of now now, I will be including them after 1 week instead! I'm trying to keep the suspense for those who are interested but I understand there might be some of you who are wary of reading certain things - I will be adding warnings for your sake in a week's time! (There are no trigger warnings for this fic though!)

(edited) - Sexual tension phew, fingering (f.receiving), male masturbation, oral (m.receiving), threesome, sub-ish Soonyoung, dom Minghao, slight mlm? (feeding her cum), couple of spanks, unprotected sex (plis refrain), they're kinda rough - she's struggling to breathe, Minghao is mean and a bit of a sadist, deepthroating, edging, marking, hickies, sloppy seconds, they both finish inside her, I think that's about it?

Today you slept with both the windows and the curtains closed.

Not just Seungcheol's eagle, even the late morning sun couldn't wake you up, leading to you casually strolling into the dining hall, late in the day. As you walked in, still dressed in your pajamas, twelve heads turned towards you, following your every step.

Seokmin turned towards Seungcheol who's gaze was fixed on his food, like it was adamant not to meet yours. Hesitating, the former cleared his throat, taking one for the team, questioning you instead.

“You uh….didn't come to train today.”

“Yes, I didn’t.”

Walking in, you grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and sat as far away from Seungcheol as possible. If anyone noticed the hostility between the two of you, they didn't say anything. Seokmin looked at you like he was expecting to hear more - then he realised that was all you had for an answer.

“Why didn't you…...”

“I got wet in the rain last night.” You munched on your fruit. “Felt sick in the morning.”

A part of you expected at least one of them to have the decency to ask you how you were doing now but all the boys simply exchanged looks. As you frowned at them confused, Joshua finally looked at you. “Demigods don't fall sick Y/n.”

You blinked. “What?”

“We're half gods, so uh…. stuff like bacteria and viruses don't really have an effect against us.”

Suddenly, at that point, the last 25 years of your life made a little more sense - you realised you hadn't ever fallen sick. You also realised that last weekend when you offered to watch a movie with Seungcheol because the two of you were alone in the house, he had declined, stating he had a cold and didn't want to pass it on.

Of course he lied. All that man did was lie.

Scoffing, you shook your head. “Of course we don't.”

“Is there a problem?” Minghao narrowed his eyes at you conspicuously. “Any particular reason you couldn't or didn't want to come?”

Sighing, you shook your head. “It's just been hard getting used to things, I'm trying but-”

“There's no room for but Y/n.” Seungcheol finally spoke, looking up. “Quest season is approaching and we cannot have a weak link on the team.”

“Cheol.” Jeonghan cautioned, looking at him just a little sternly. “Enough.”

Seungcheol stared back at Jeonghan like he wanted to retort but when the latter shook his head at him, he got up, throwing his plate into the sink a lot louder than anyone had expected.

If Chan hadn’t muttered that the cab was ready to leave, you would have exploded - how dare he? He was the one who hinted at something more last night and he was the one who had left you in the middle of the storm so why was he behaving like this was your fault?? But before you could say anything, Seungcheol and the members going for morning shifts grabbed their things and set out for the day, unusually quietly. As Mingyu began to follow the crowd, you held him by his wrist,

“Where are you going? You don’t have work today?”

“Are you keeping tabs on me, newbie?” Mingyu bent down, smirking at you. “Can I consider you interested?”

“Your schedules are on the white board genius.” You rolled your eyes, letting him go and pointing at it. “We need to talk.”

Mingyu frowned, both confused and curious.

“The house Gyu, my house. I have a final plan for it.”

“Oh! Okay sure let’s go-”

“Wait.” Joshua stood up shaking his head. “I don't know what's going on with you Y/n, but unlike Cheol, I cannot walk away from what I am responsible for in this camp. You're going to put that fruit down-” He pointed at the plum you just reached for. “-go shower, have a full breakfast and then you can sit with Mingyu and finalise whatever you have to.”

“But Shua-”

“No.” He said in a tone that you knew meant that this was not open for any more discussion as he turned towards the man who was stuffing his face with cereal. “And Kwon Soonyoung, why are your sheets still in the dryer?”

Oh fuck.

Soonyoung looked at you confused - you had completely forgotten about that.

“I uh couldn't carry them back in the rain last night.” He muttered, drinking the last of his milk straight from the bowl, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I'll take them now.”

“Why did you need to wash your sheets in the middle of the night?” Hansol frowned at the man beside him sceptical and Soonyoung glanced at you but you were suddenly deeply interested in some random crack on the table surface.

“I was bored and jerked off.” Soonyoung washed up his bowl, shaking the water off his hands. “It was a good one.”

Hansol groaned disgusted and you looked at Soonyoung scandalised as he shot you a cheeky wink before disappearing out of the hall. A part of you was kind of relieved - you were worried after last night, especially considering what he said as you were leaving. Perhaps you heard it wrong because Soonyoung seemed just as relaxed as ever, like nothing had changed.

You were thankful for that - now things could go back to like they were before.

Or could they? Because Jihoon was yet again looking at you like he knew everything

“This is your final plan?”

“Yes.”

“Isn't this the first plan you had made?”

“Yes.”

“Y/n,” Mingyu groaned. “If you wanted to do this we could have finalised it days ago.”

“I told you, I was confused about the whole bathroom situation.” You muttered, tracing mindless patterns over the floor plan. “Let's just make the residence alone. I'll adjust with the common showers.”

“We can still arrange to build a bathroom for you.” Joshua glanced at the papers. “Since we have to divert water pipes, it'll just take a little longer-”

“No.” You gripped the pencil tight. “I don't want anything that takes a little longer. I want this house made as soon as possible so I can shift to my own space.”

Your adamance was definitely new but neither boys commented on it. Instead Mingyu pulled out his phone and scrolled through clumsily.

“I need to place an order for the brick and cement and sure Chan has got a decently sized cab but it's going to take a couple of trips to bring the whole load.” He sighed, not looking up. “It's going to take a couple of weeks to get the house ready-”

“No, no no.” You shook your head. This couldn't be happening. “I need my own house as soon as possible, Mingyu….” You looked away rambling as both men frowned. “I'm in my final year, I've uh got projects and submissions to work on. The library isn't well lit enough to study all night and Seungcheol's house is too far from the charging station in the Great Hall, I can't keep making such long trips just to charge my laptop? What if it rains like last night again? What if all my stuff gets wet and-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Mingyu set his phone down and tried to calm you down. “Though if those are your concerns, you can move into my house. I live close to the Great hall and I have a loft - you won’t have any issues there.”

Oh no. No no. You weren't about to fall from the frying pan into the fire.

“No Mingyu, what I need is my own space, like every other member of the camp.” You sighed. “And I know it's a lot to ask but I hope we can be done with it fast.”

“I really wish I could help Y/n.” He looked at you pitifully. “You’re an architect, you know the kind of time it takes to build a house. Maybe if you had opted for something simpler, like a wooden cabin-”

“Can you build that faster?”

“I mean we do live in the middle of a forest and I do have automations to cut trees-”

“How long will a wooden cabin take?”

“A few days.” Mingyu rubbed his chin in thought. “Provided it doesn't rain or-”

“Do it.”

Both men looked surprised.

“You're sure?” Joshua spoke up this time. “Wooden homes tend to feel colder, it would also be harder to-”

“I'm sure.” You nodded, gathering the sheets. “I'll have to make a few amendments to the layout then you can start. Meanwhile, why don't you go ahead now with the….. wood gathering?”

Mingyu nodded, stuffing his phone into his pocket, resting his face on his interlocked hands.

“What're you waiting for Mingyu?”

“Now as in right now??”

“Yes right now.” You looked at him like it was obvious. “Please.”

Joshua nodded, signalling Mingyu to leave and grumbling, the bigger man left, much to your relief. Just a few more days. You could handle a few more days with Seungcheol, right?

“You cannot.” Joshua turned to you. “You cannot survive with a group of people if you don't communicate Y/n. Do you want to tell me what's going on?”

You let out a deep breath considering it for a minute but then shook your head. “It's not worth discussing. I'll deal with it on my own.”

“Well you better do it fast because,” Joshua pulled out a sheet from his bag and slid it across the table to you. “Things are about to get a lot more hectic.”

You were too scared to extend your hand and reach for that paper. Good god, what else was in store for you.

“Seokmin and Minghao are already covering physical training for you but being a demigod is so much more than just combat - you need to learn about this world, about its people, about the laws that govern it.” He looked at you apologetically. “I've drafted a schedule where the members will cover these different areas with you. Of course you will have time for your own obligations but you will also have to strictly adhere to the rest…..”

Joshua's words trailed off as your eyes landed on the timetable and the names scribbled on them.

You counted 12 names, all the members were scheduled to help you except-

“Wonwoo.” You breathed out. “His name isn't….here?”

“Yeah…” Joshua scratched the back of his head. “Wonwoo isn't really available for stuff like this, he's got other things to do….”

Of course he did. He was a top secret government official, he did guard duty at night, he was working on your case too, you could understand that he was busy.

But what you didn't understand was why he always ignored you. Even earlier when you popped into the showers forgetting that Wonwoo usually washed himself much after everyone, you had in fact, caught him butt naked.

Any normal person would've covered himself up or at least responded to your small scream, quick turn and innumerable apologies but Wonwoo? He simply grabbed a towel, wrapped himself and walked straight past you into the locker rooms like you didn't even exist, the trademark scent of his perfume the only thing lingering behind.

“Y/n where are you lost?”

You shook your head. “I was just thinking about how the bath house would've been more efficient if the showers were attached to the locker room so we didn't have to walk so far in a towel to change.”

Joshua looked at you like he didn't understand a word you were saying. Or why you were saying it.

“It's just…. I'm just being an architect, don't bother.” You shook your head then the paper. “Thank you for this.”

“No worries.” He smiled sweetly, getting up, leaving you to your breakfast. “I see your first lesson is History of the Gods. Unfortunately I think Chan is busy with some delivery in the evening so, it'll be just you and Jihoon. I hope you'll attend the lesson earnestly.”

You nodded, giving him a hard smile.

How were you supposed to last 2 hours with a man who read you like an open book?

The darkness behind your closed eyelids was supposed to be comforting. That's why you were lounging in your chair, half asleep while waiting for Jihoon to show up. But somehow, it felt like you were being watched and sure enough when you opened your eyes, the face of your instructor of the day was inches away from you.

“Jesus Christ Jihoon…” You sat up scrambling, pulling yourself away from him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You're tired.” He tucked his hands in his pockets walking back. “I was wondering if I should let you rest-”

“I'm fine.”

“-but it's strange considering you skipped training and slept all morning, yet you're incredibly sleep deprived.” Leaning back against the table he looked at you amused. “What might have happened last night that exhausted you so?”

Words refused to leave your mouth considering you didn't know if he was teasing you or actually concerned. Given the last few days you assumed it was the former and ignored him as you began closing all the books you had strewn on the table before you.

“I see you're doing pre reading.”

“Chan gave these to me before he left for work. He said I should read to understand better.”

“Did you?”

Of course you didn't. You were almost snoring away and Jihoon saw that, yet he asked the question like he wanted you to feel embarrassed about the answer.

“I thought you were supposed to teach me.” You shut the last book and glared at him. “If you just expect me to just read off a book, I don’t see why you’re required here.”

“Are you suggesting I leave my own class?” He raised his eyebrow amused. “I’m going to have to disappoint you but unlike some, I take what I’m told at camp seriously.”

You glared at him like you were contemplating throwing the book straight at him and you almost did when he walked around the table, sat down on the chair and cocked his head at you.

“For someone who is the daughter of Hestia, hospitality isn't really your trait is it?

“How would I know, aren’t you supposed to be teaching me about this God stuff?”

“I am.” He nodded, crossing his arms. “But it depends on how much the mortal world has already taught you.”

“I’ve never really bothered myself with Greek mythology.” You rolled your eyes. “They’re just stories for bored children.”

“Except they aren’t. They are your reality.”

“Not by choice.” You mumbled. You did not wish to be an outcast in the only world you knew and thrown here. You did not wish for any of this.

“Parentage is no one’s choice.” Jihoon sighed. “But to be a demigod is a gift. It’s a shame that you disregard your power.”

“What power?” You scoffed. “I don’t have any….” Trailing off you gulped.

That was a lie.

“I am the Son of Apollo which means I was there at the Court of Delphi when the Oracle assigned you.” Jihoon reminded you of the fateful night.

The night when a couple of masked men had forcibly picked you from your dorm, throwing you into a large room of unknown people and a round crystal in the middle on an altar. No sooner than you took a scared, confused step forward it spoke - Daughter of Hestia, Camp Seventeen.

“The Oracle only recognises those who have God's blood. So if you’re telling me you don’t have any powers and this is all a mistake, you must think I’m an idiot.”

“If you’re so smart-” You narrowed your eyes at him. “-why don’t you do that mind reading thing you do and figure out what my powers are?”

“I can’t read minds Y/n,” Jihoon looked at you quizzically. “I’m not Athena’s progeny.”

“Y-you can’t? But all these days…..” You blinked at him confused. “Oh my god, can Jeonghan??”

He shook his head. “Neither can Jeonghan. Not all of Athena’s children are mind readers. I’ve only ever come across one in my life and if she wasn’t busy shuffling through everyone’s brain in the quest, perhaps she wouldn’t have been killed.”

You opened your mouth and then shut it, unsure which of the hundred questions in your mind to ask first.

“If you really must know, my father is the God of Medicine which makes me a natural healer.” He leaned back with a small smile. “I don’t read people’s minds but their bodies. I can tell when one is sick, or hungry….or even horny.”

You gulped, feeling your heartbeat raise. Could he tell that too?

“It goes without saying that a demigod's powers are associated with their parentage. So as the daughter of the Goddess of Hearth and Home, I’m assuming you have some sort of bond with fire.”

Tightening your fists, you refused to meet his eye.

It made sense why you never told anyone in the human world about your ability to create fire out of thin air but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone in the demi-world either.

You had seen the powers the boys had - Seokmin was the son of Posiedon, God of the Sea, but he couldn’t create water, only bend it. And Mingyu? His father was the literal God of Fire and even he was only immune to flames.

But you, birthing fire from thin air? Something told you that even in the world of demigods, the world where you belonged, you were a freak.

“Or maybe I’m an architect because of you know, the ‘home’ bit.”

“I don’t think so. Your college preference is pretty much just a personal interest.”

“Then I guess I don’t have any powers.” You shrugged. “Maybe the Oracle made a mistake.”

“The Oracle isn’t human. It never makes mistakes.”

“Then maybe my powers are too insignificant for us to care. I mean think about it - what can the daughter of such a goddess have to offer? I most definitely don’t have anything of value.”

Jihoon stared at you like he had too many thoughts.

“Do you know the life cycle of a demigod?”

You shook your head confused about where he was going with this.

“Not everyone born half breed inherits powers and even if they do, it is dormant until puberty. At the ages of 16 to 18, demigods are at their highest energies which gives them an aura that makes them instantly identifiable - the stronger their abilities, the stronger the aura. After they are picked either by their parents or our scout force, they’re taken to the Oracle who puts them in camp where they will be best suited to train and learn to harness their powers. If a demigod isn’t placed in camp by 18, you best believe that they are dead.”

“Huh?” You blinked. “Why is that?”

“Because either the inability to handle their own powers will kill them or in rare cases, monsters.”

“M-monsters?”

“There’s always good and bad in the world. Where you have gods, you have monsters too.” Jihoon opened one of the books to a page filled with sketches of the most gruesome creatures you’d ever seen. “Most of our predecessors have already locked up many of these in the Underworld but there are still some out there, lurking around. If they sense an aura and you aren’t trained for combat, you don’t stand a chance.”

“So you think because I’ve managed to survive the last seven years, on my own and untrained, I am powerful?” You frowned. “Did you consider the fact that perhaps my aura was so weak no one could detect me?”

“I did. That was my first assumption till the Oracle.” He leaned onto the table. “Even Gods have to touch the orb for a reading but your mere presence lit her up Y/n. Your aura isn’t weak, it’s different and my guess is it has something to do with being Hestia's daughter.”

You hummed, trying to make sense of things. “Well, did the same thing happen with her other children?”

Jihoon shook his head. “We don’t know. Unfortunately for us, there are no other known children of Hestia - you are the first ever.”

You stared at him, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“I’m her only child?”

Jihoon nodded slowly.

If that were true, the whole of last week made no sense. Ever since you had discovered the temple, you had been trying to reach out to your mother every other hour. You assumed she might have been busy or probably had too many places to be to tend to you, but to learn that you were her only progeny and she still didn’t care hurt differently.

Scoffing sadly you shook your head. “What kind of mother doesn’t care about her only child?”

“One who is not proud of her momentary lapse of judgement.”

“What do you mean?”

Jihoon sighed. “Hestia is one of the three virgin goddesses, along with Artemis and Athena. She’s not supposed to have any offspring, much less one with a human. If anything, you are a walking talking symbol of her weakness.”

“I am her child-”

“In theory.” Jihoon emphasised. “But in reality, you’re merely a fragment of her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Humans and Gods don’t mix Y/n. Hell, even humans and demigods can’t.”

“I’m aware.”

Jihoon took a pause before he narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Why and how are you aware of that?”

“Irrelevant.” You brushed off. “But if what you’re saying is true, how can demigods even come to be?”

“Because it’s not unlike even the Gods to succumb to lust. At any time they feel particularly attracted to a human they enchant their partners.” When you frowned like you didn’t understand, he sighed and continued. “Enchantment is what we call the process of gods…to crudely put it, possessing people. Taking over their bodies, controlling them.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You mean they possess one person to have sex with another???”

“Well, sometimes it’s just sex but sometimes it is love. They stay on Earth for years together till the lesser gods aren’t able to handle things and they are forced to go back.” Jihoon got up, pacing around the room. “Demigods are born to two human parents who are completely unaware about what happened with them and what their child actually is.”

“Wow” You breathed out dumbfounded. “You mean to say I have two parents in the Mortal world and one sitting in Olympus-” Jihoon nodded. “-and neither of them care about me?”

Jihoon looked at you like you had given him more information than he asked for.

“I can’t speak for your mortal parents but as far as Gods are concerned, they don’t really care about their half human children…… unless they are powerful.” He locked his arms behind his back. “Demigods train for years to become worthy of their parents' attention.”

“So being a demigod isn’t really a gift after all.”

Sighing, Jihoon sat down beside you. “You can’t allow yourself to be governed by emotions Y/n. You are the result of a God’s lack of resistance to impulses - those who sit in Olympus have their own flaws. If you run your whole life seeking their validation, you will keep running. They will keep you running.”

“What do I do then?” You blinked at him lost. “I think I have more than one question I want to ask the woman because of whom my life is a mess. How do I get her to notice me?”

“Play it smart. First, learn about our world and the things that shape it. Understand how Olympus works - what the God's weaknesses are, what ticks them off, what will bring them on your side.” He turned to you. “If you play your cards right, trust me, your mother will come looking for you in no time.”

Letting out a deep breath, you whispered hesitantly. “Will you teach me how?”

Smiling in a way that made your stomach turn a lot differently than it used to for Jihoon before, he nodded. “I'd love to.”

You didn’t even realise when your supposed two hour session with Jihoon dragged on till after the sun had set.

By the end of it, you had a book full of notes stuffed in your backpack and a head full of information that your instructor had filled. As you stepped out of the library building, Jihoon offered to walk you back to Seungcheol’s house given it was nightfall and as much as you wanted to continue talking to him, you politely refused. You weren’t ready to face that man just yet but just as you began walking towards the Great Hall to grab a snack or two, your eyes fell on Jeonghan and Seungcheol whispering away near the trees.

As you skidded to a stop in your path, they turned towards you, both surprised and relieved by your presence. When you noticed Jeonghan nudge Seungcheol making him take a step towards you, you immediately walked back, knocking into someone behind you, earning a shriek.

“Watch it rookie.” Seungkwan muttered as you apologised under your breath. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a couple of the guys standing fully dressed like they were headed out to a party.

“Y/n.” Seungcheol took another step, trying to get your attention again. “We need to talk-”

“I can’t,” You walked over to the boys, placing yourself right in the middle of the group. “I’m going out tonight.”

“Dressed like that?” Seungcheol raised his eyebrows, looking up to down at a really old t-shirt you had donned over a pair of worn out shorts.

“Funny that a man who pairs socks with sandals is judging me about my outfit.”

Behind you the boys snickered, glancing down at Seungcheol’s feet.

“That’s not my point-”

“Can you drop my bag in my room?” You looked over the leader’s shoulder at his sidekick. “Since you love roaming around that house anyways.”

Jeonghan caught the bag you threw to him, sighing as he swung it over his shoulder.

“Well, that would make a total of eight of us..…” Seokmin looked around, doing a headcount. “Dino’s car can take us all but it will be a bit congested-”

“I can take my bike.” Mingyu offered, running his hands through his hair. “It’ll be more convenient for you guys and-”

“Can I ride with you?” You turned to Mingyu, looking at him just a little pleadingly.

Even though you were on the way to a party, you weren’t in the mood to be stuffed in a small car with a bunch of guys right now - all you wanted was some air and space away from Seungcheol.

Shooting you a small smirk, Mingyu nodded, just in time for his mechanical bull to jog over, modifying into a slick bike the moment it neared him. As he got on, you followed him, gripping his shoulders as you clambered on.

“Hold tight.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you glanced at the two boys left behind - Seungcheol’s jaw was tight and Jeonghan looked mildly curious, eyes darting where your body pressed up against Mingyu’s back. You could tell the normally cocky Mingyu did seem slightly tense under your touch, perhaps because you were not wearing a bra and he could feel everything very clearly.

“Shall we?” He muttered, turning on the engine.

Sighing, you nodded, a part of you well aware that tonight was most definitely going to be a long night.

“Let’s go.”

“I’ve been to funerals better than this.”

You muttered to Seokmin about fifteen minutes after reaching the house that the boys had brought you to for the night. Your expectation had been that of a frat party, one with pizzas and chips and dip and booze instead you were looking at a living room filled with pink balloons, rose gold streamers and french appetisers.

“Wait till Soonyoung’s alcohol goes around.” Seokmin half giggled, grabbing a canape from the table. “Things always get so much fun after that.”

You watched the man in question pulling out some bottles from his pockets, handing them over to some boys at the corner of the room.

The moment Chan’s car had stopped at the location, all the boys had practically disappeared. Seungkwan headed over to a bunch of people Mingyu said were some of his very close friends. No sooner than he said that, he too disappeared as did Chan, Soonyoung and Mingao. The only ones who remained by your side were Seokmin and Joshua but just as you stepped into the house, a couple of girls pulled Joshua away, leaving you with your current company.

“Why do I feel like something about Soonyoung’s alcohol is sketchy?”

“Maybe because it’s an illegal blend?” Seokmin shrugged before realising what he had let slip. “You cannot tell anyone. Everyone in camp will kill him and Soonyoung will resurrect and kill me.”

Laughing you shook your head, grabbing a cracker and topping it with brie, stomach rumbling due to the lack of dinner.

“You don’t have to keep me company Seokmin.” You turned to the man who was sweet enough to stay by your side. “I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

“It’s no big deal.” He muttered, putting himself between you and a drunk guy leaning over you to grab a drink from the table. “I know you don’t know anyone here-”

“I’m not looking to socialise anyways.” You confessed, piling a bunch of stuff on your plate. “I’m just going to sit outside and grab a bite in, hopefully, some peace and quiet.”

“Oh.” Seokmin looked a little upset, like he wanted to hang out with you but before you could tell him that you didn’t mind his company, Mingyu popped by out of nowhere, pulling his friend by the elbow and dragging him away excitedly. Chuckling, you got back to piling your plate.

“You worked up an appetite.”

You turned to see Soonyoung hovering behind you, hands tucked in his pocket.

“Yeah….” You shoved a spoonful of cold but nevertheless tasty pasta salad into your mouth. “Apparently spending three hours learning about Greek gods can really drain you.”

“Jihoon can be a bit intense with teaching.” Soonyoung laughed, nonchalantly wiping the cream at the edge of your lips with his thumb. “The trick is to remind him about his workout. He'll drop everything and run.”

“Huh.” You laughed uncertainly before struggling to swallow your bite and turning to him. He stared at you stuffing your mouth with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“Soonyoung we…. “ You swallowed. “We didn't get to talk about last night.”

“Oh.” Soonyoung blinked. “What about it?”

About what he said. About if you heard it right. About if he meant it.

“About if whatever happened was…. of any use with Mina?” You diverted like a coward.

“I uh haven't spoken to her yet.” Soonyoung confessed, scratching the back of his head. “Surprisingly I haven't returned any of her calls.”

“Why is that?”

“I don't know.” He looked at you intently. “I don't feel like doing it.”

“Is there…” You whispered softly, wondering if you should even be asking this. If you were ready for his answer. “....something else you feel like doing?”

Soonyoung nodded, his tongue running across his lower lip, his eyes darting to your mouth. Just as it seemed like he leaned in, out of nowhere, the most beautiful girl you had ever seen, threw her arms around Soonyoung's neck, pulling his mouth to hers instead.

“Hoshi.” She mumbled against his lips, pressing her body up against him not so subtly.

You weren't sure why exactly you were continuing to watch the two people before you shoving their tongues into each other's mouth but perhaps that's how shock worked. Though you didn't have the intention of continuing anything at all with Soonyoung, something about being interrupted this way stung differently.

By the time they had separated, you had chugged an entire can of beer, crushing the metal in your hand.

“And who might this be?” She looked at you, pushing her hair back.

“She's the new member of camp seventeen Y/n,” He pointed between the two of you, “Y/n, this is Mina, my uh….”

“Girlfriend.” She smiled, with an unbelievably perfect set of teeth. “So the rumours are true. The infamous all-boys-celibate camp finally has a female presence. Tell me,” Her eyes glowed. “Have you gotten your eyes on any of them? Or even better,” She lowered her voice. “Have you gotten your hands on any of them already?”

You looked at Soonyoung, utterly uncomfortable.

“Mina, you can’t ask such things-”

“Why not? It'll be between just us girls-”

“Please.” He pulled her back. “Last I saw you, we broke up and now you just waltz back and-”

“I know, I know. We never should have broken up in the first place. That whole fight was stupid.” She pouted, wrapping her arms around him tighter. “Forget about it Soonyoung-”

“Forget about it?” His expression was of disbelief. “So you don't have anything to say to me?”

She looked away, pretending like she was thinking before turning back to him with a smirk. “Yes, I do. I didn't wear any underwear today.”

Inwardly groaning you stared at the design of the tile hoping the ground would just swallow you instead. You wanted to get the fuck out of here since this conversation was of no interest to you but moving was impossible with both their intertwined figures blocking the way.

“Come on Soonyoung, it's been so long and I'm in the mood tonight. The bedrooms on the second floor won’t be free for long.”

Soonyoung’s adam's apple shifted, his words stuck somewhere there as Mina held him by the wrist and began leading him away. As he was dragged off, you expected him to turn and shoot you a grateful look, instead, he looked at you wistfully.

Your plan was simple - stuff your face with all the incredibly bougie food, catch some air in the patio away from all the noise and then leave with the boys whenever they were ready to go. Instead here you were, your plate somewhere unattended while you were gripping the edge of the sink, leaning over it, chest heaving as you stared into the mirror.

Now you knew you weren’t supposed to be hogging the washroom for this long but you couldn’t bear to go out. One, you didn’t want to see Soonyoung and his girlfriend again - especially if she was going to be all over him like a leech because something about that sight made your stomach turn violently. And two, you were somehow, for no reason at all, incredibly wet.

Perhaps it was because suddenly, everyone in the party was quite literally all over each other, or because you were thinking about what happened in Soonyoung’s residence this time yesterday, or because you were just plain desperate to have something, anything inside you.

Last night awakened something in you that you didn’t know existed and now nothing seemed to satiate the beast. Chiding yourself for being out here when you could have been in your own room, having your way with Soonyoung’s toy or your own fingers maybe, you gripped the sink tighter, feeling your heart rate rise unprompted. It was getting harder and harder to stay modest.

The only thing that stopped you from putting your hand down your pants in a house full of sixty people on the other side of the door, was the knock on it.

“What part of I am throwing up in here do you not- Oh!” You gasped, walking back as the door flung open and in stepped a slightly inebriated Chan. “What are you doing!?”

“You won’t open the door….” He slurred. “It’s been so long, Seokmin was worried.”

“How the hell did you open three locks….” You stared at the door as he slowly shut it behind him.

“My father is the God of thieves. Are you really surprised that I can open any lock and any door?”

“I guess not.” You muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. “But you didn’t need to, I was going to come out-”

“You’ve been in here for over 20 minutes.” Chan crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “I thought you passed out or something.”

“I wish.”

Passing out would be much better than whatever was going on between your legs.

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.”

“I’m not. I’m just waiting for us to head back.”

“Then why ask to tag along?” He raised his eyebrow. “Does it have anything to do with the hostility between you and Seungcheol?”

“So you noticed.”

“I think everyone did.” Chan chuckled. “Do you want to tell me why or should I guess?”

“Shoot your shot.”

Chan shrugged all knowingly, “He rejected you.”

You looked up at the boy before you so fast, you nearly fell back thanks to the inertia.

“W-what makes you think that?”

“Sons of Zeus and Daughters of Aphrodite have a natural tendency to attract the opposite sex.” He stated like it was obvious. “Seungcheol has women swooning over him like they're in some sort of trance. He doesn't really care for them because he knows it's a mere chemical attraction thanks to his dad. Instead he just ignores them or if things get unbearable, he breaks their hearts so they snap out of it.”

You knew Chan had to be quite tipsy to so bluntly place you in the list of women Seungcheol had rejected. It wasn't like that was it? Yesterday in the rain, he had hinted his feelings for you, he almost kissed you but….. what about what you were feeling? Was this irresistible attraction you felt towards him nothing but chemical?

Considering how you had been feeling since Mina wrapped herself all over Soonyoung…. You wouldn't have felt that if your heart was set out on Seungcheol right?

Then again….. it was Seungcheol’s name that left your mouth as you orgasmed yesterday.

Staring at the floor you shook your head slightly. You could not think about last night again, not with how soaked you already were at the moment.

“Hey,” Chan inched closer, putting his finger under your chin, lifting your face to meet your eyes. He did not however notice the way you pressed your thighs together at his touch. His eyes skimmed over the features of your face, a slight amused smile forming on his face. “You’re flushed…. Did you have any of Soonyoung’s alcohol?”

You shook your head but were unable to shake his fingers from your face. “His blend is not my drink of choice.”

“Oh gods, please don’t tell me you had any beer.”

“I think I had two cans…… or maybe four?” You frowned. “I can't remember but I'm not drunk! Beer barely makes me-”

“Y/n,” Sighing, Chan finally let you go. “Party rule number one, you never drink alcohol at an Aphrodite rager.”

“Why not?”

“Because Aphrodite’s children are a bunch of troublemakers. Don’t let their gorgeous faces fool you.” He brushed the hair off your face. “You must think people like Joshua are the finest to walk the Earth, but don’t judge a man without knowing his stories.”

Joshua? You frowned. How could he be anything but a sweetheart? Soonyoung’s girlfriend maybe was an obnoxious toad but not Joshua. He was flawless.

“You might as well have drank Soonyoung’s disgusting blend.” Chan muttered. “Why do you think his alcohol sells so well at these parties?”

“Because his annoyingly beautiful girlfriend is a daughter of Aphrodite?”

“Yes, but also because only the insane drink the booze served at an Aphrodite party. She may be the goddess of Love but she’s also the goddess of Sex and more importantly, her children are addicted to it.” Chan looked at you just a little worried. “Those drinks are their special concoctions of aphrodisiacs.”

“A-aphrodisiacs???”

“Aphrodite, aphrodisiacs - not far off huh?” He shrugged. “I’m not sure if it hit you yet - do you feel anything?”

“No….” You shook your head.

The correct answer was hell yes. Everything going on with you suddenly made sense but you couldn't tell Chan that, not him.

“Are you not feeling unnaturally hot?” He looked at you concerned as he sat down beside you, his body unwittingly brushing against yours. “Doesn't the tiniest bit of proximity rile you up?”

You didn’t answer him. You didn't need him to know just how much even his presence was affecting you thanks to those stupid sex potions.

“I should tell you beforehand, when it hits, it’s going to be intense but the longer you resist it, the stronger it gets.” You turned to him, only just realising how close his face was to yours. “The only chance you have of getting out of it…. is to give in.”

Gulping you stared at him. The boy who was always bright, laughing around and cracking jokes like he was an old man was looking at you with unusually darkened eyes, his thighs pressed against yours, your hand inches away from him.

The only chance you have of getting it out is to give in.

“Chan do you think….” You gulped. “...you can guard the door for a while?”

Perhaps if it were anyone but Lee Chan you would have climbed them by now. Because he was right - the more you tried to control yourself, the more you felt yourself slipping. But not with Chan, definitely not with him. He was far too sweet and innocent to be dragged into whatever mess was going on with you.

“I might uh need a few minutes alone here.” You mumbled.

Chan blinked like he didn't understand but when you looked away, wiping the sweat trickling down your neck in a pretty cold room, he seemed like he got it.

“Oh y-yeah sure.” He got up quickly, not looking at you. “I'll be right outside.”

And with that he scurried out, closing the door behind him.

The moment he disappeared you smacked your head - you didn't particularly enjoy beer anyways, why did you have to drink it tonight? If you were being honest, it was because of Soonyoung and his irritatingly gorgeous girlfriend and their unnecessary antics right in front of you face-

No.

No no no.

You couldn't be spiralling with these thoughts again. Chan said the longer you resisted, it was going to get worse so you were going to do whatever it took to get this feeling out of your system.

As you unbuttoned your shorts, you got up and leaned against the sink to avoid seeing your face in the mirror, barely able to meet your own eyes given what you were about to do. Pushing your embarrassment aside considering the need of the hour, you slid your hand past the material of your underwear, fingers feeling exactly how drenched you were.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered. How was it possible that you were this wet absolutely unprompted and for no reason at all? What the hell was in those concoctions??

You thought you could just get off with your own fingers but given how easily they were sliding past your hole there was no way you could do this on your own, especially not here. Annoyed, you pulled your hand out and turned, washing it under the running water, sighing at your reflection in the mirror. Chan was right, you were incredibly flushed, your pupils were blown and the sheen of sweat was very evident - oh it was definitely getting worse.

Maybe you could go find Mingyu and convince him to give you a ride back to camp. If you could get your hands on Soonyoung’s toy again, you could help yourself out of this. That was perhaps the best thing to do right now.

Adjusting your hair and your clothes, you gave yourself a determined nod and opened the door, expecting to see Chan but finding someone else entirely guarding the door.

“M-Minghao.” You stuttered as he looked over his shoulder, eyes finding you.

“Party rule number two, never trust Lee Chan to do anything in a party with alcohol.”

You should have known - he might be your age but Chan was like an overexcited child. And did Minghao just say rule number two? Did that mean he was aware….

“You’re still very aroused.” He smirked as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I’m guessing whatever you were trying to do in there didn’t work out.”

You groaned. “I can’t believe Chan told you-”

“He didn’t.” Minghao shook his head amused. You watched as he ran his eyes from your face down. “He didn’t have to, it’s pretty evident.”

“I just need to get home and I’ll be fine-”

“I don’t think so.” He dropped his voice, his wide frame covering anyone from seeing you. “On the contrary, you might quite literally pounce on the first guy you see-”

“You’re the first guy.”

Minghao’s eyes darkened as he looked at you wordlessly. Strangely, you felt something shift inside you too - oh god he was right.

“How much longer-”

“There’s bedrooms upstairs you know-”

”Are you guys done-”

“No.” Minghao shook his head, silencing the voices behind him as he slid his bracelet off his wrist and hooked it to the door handle, eyes not leaving you even once. “Get in.”

Surprisingly you obeyed, taking a step back, allowing him to enter as he closed the door behind him much to the disappointment of the many queueing outside.

“Y/n,” How was his voice so much deeper suddenly? “This is the exact kind of trouble the Aphrodite children are looking for. They want the drama that comes from the inability to control oneself, you’re better than that.”

“What do you want me to do?” You groaned. “Before you shoved me back in here, I was trying to leave and get back to camp so I can deal with it myself-”

“The art of war lies in self control.” He slid his arms in his pockets, looking at you just like he did every morning on the training field. “As a demigod, you are at your best when you learn how to control yourself. People misunderstand how this aphrodisiac works - you don't have to give in, it does wear off after a point. Most just don't happen to be able to control themselves till then.”

“Wears off at what point because Minghao, it's been barely 20 minutes since I’ve had those drinks and I’m barely able to get a hold of myself.”

“Which is precisely why leaving right now is a horrible idea - you don’t have a hold over yourself.” He let out a deep breath. “We can fix it. We can stay here for however long you need and you can let this pass. Consider it a lesson in your training.”

“We’re training in the middle of a party?”

“As warriors we’re always training.” He walked past you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub like you had been just a while ago, looking annoyingly relaxed. “Do you think I enjoy these all-pink, snooty french parties? I come here just for the drinks.”

Your jaw dropped. “Y-you had the beer too?”

Minghao nodded.

“On purpose? After knowing what they do?”

He nodded again.

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“To practise self control.” He stated like it was obvious.

“By drugging yourself?”

“A good warrior is one who doesn’t allow himself to be governed by any kind of emotion - lust is usually the hardest to control.”

“So that concoction has no effect on you?”

“It's starting to hit.” Minghao looked at you intently as your eyes flickered down to his pants, noticing the bulge. “But I'm not the kind to give in.”

“Well I think I'm the kind to.” You muttered, throat going dry as you peeled your eyes away. Minghao didn't. “I don't know how to explain it.” You shut your eyes tight, embarrassed of the words leaving you but you knew he might be the only person who understood where you were at. “but I have this feeling like I'm being clawed on the inside, like if I don't have anything in me right this second, I might just lose my mind.”

“I get it.” Your eyes flew open to find him standing right in front of you, his face inches away. “I feel like I'm on the edge of my sanity too but you can fight it.”

Gulping you looked at the way his lips moved, the vein of his neck stark as was his collarbone peeking from under his shirt. Before this, you hadn’t actually noticed just how handsome Minghao was.

“l can't.” You whispered, running your eyes over his features. “Can…can you help me?”

Leaning closer, his gaze hardened. You could see there were thoughts running in that head of his - the warrior was engaged in a battle with himself.

“Minghao please.”

Grabbing your waist, he spun you around swiftly, trapping you between his hands and the sink, meeting your eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

“Help you how?”

You looked at how his mouth was right by your ear and his frame so wide behind you that he was engulfing you merely with his presence. On one hand there were his arms, veins running up them as he gripped the edge of the sink and on the other was the fact that if you just took one step back, you knew you would feel his length pressed against you - both of which were making things exponentially worse.

“Tell me how you want me to help Y/n.” He muttered, his breath soft against your ear.

“I… you know how-”

“I was helping. I was telling you what to do-”

“Can't you do something instead?” Knowing exactly what you were doing, you took a small step back, pressing your back against his chest and your ass against his length. “Didn't you say it hit you too?”

You thought it was a fair enough proposition. Both of you had taken the drink so it was easy to put the blame on it for anything that might potentially happen.

“But I don't need any help.” He shook his head adamantly. “If I help you, what's in it for me?”

“I'll owe you one.” You sighed. “Whenever, wherever, please Minghao….”

“Remember those words.” He whispered, his hand snaking around your waist to unbutton your shorts, fingers lingering over your skin.

“W-wait.” You gasped. Though this was exactly what you were expecting when you asked for his help, as it blended into reality, you felt an uncertainty kick in. “W-what if someone opens the door-”

“A door that has the bracelet of Ares on it?” Minghao's reflection raised his eyes amused. “They'd be crazy to.”

“b-but what if…. I'm too loud or something. Wouldn't we be in trouble?”

“Y/n.” His hand drew back just a little. “Are you sure you want me to….”

“Yes.” You shut your eyes mortified that just the feeling of him withdrawing his touch was physically painful. “Yes please …”

Almost instantly Minghao obeyed, his hand snaking past the material of your shorts, just the thin layer of your underwear keeping his fingers away from you.

“Oh you poor thing, you're drenched.”

You nodded as his hand pushed aside your panties, running his digits along your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, a fingertip prodding your hole ever so slightly.

“I'm not sure two fingers are enough for you.” He muttered, groaning. “You really want a dick inside don't you?”

“So bad.” You whispered back. “I wouldn't even mind two of them in me right now-”

You felt your words die in your throat as Minghao chuckled, slipping his fingers into your wet hole. “Let's start with two of these first.”

A soft moan left you as you agreed, hands gripping the edge tighter as his digits simply stayed inside you.

“Look at you.” He muttered in your ear. “Open your eyes and look at yourself.”

Hesitating you obeyed, catching sight of the two of you in the mirror as his free hand wrapped around your waist, holding you in place against him. Something about the way your small frame fit against his wider one was….nice.

You wanted to ask him to move his fingers, to give you something but before you said it, he slowly began pumping his digits in and out, burying his face in the dip of your neck. As his mouth brushed your skin, you felt yourself tense around his fingers.

“So tight. ” He mumbled. “Oh you'd be such a delight to fuck.”

“Then fuck me.” You moaned as his fingers picked up speed.

“Tempting.” His voice left him like a low growl as his teeth grazed your skin. “But I'm a man of principles.”

“Are you sure?” Reaching for the hand on your waist, you led it up your torso under your shirt, guiding him to your tits.

“No bra?” He half groaned, squeezing it. “What a doll.”

“Don't you want to fuck me?” Moaning you tried to push your ass further against his rock hard self. “Use me and we can both be free of this-”

“Don't be greedy Y/n.” Contrary to his words, he let a third finger join his act. “Take what I'm giving you.”

Feeling a lot more full now, you felt your jaw slacken and no words left as both his hands took turns to harshly pump and squeeze, his mouth along your shoulder and neck, leaving painful, stinging marks of red.

“Faster.” You panted as his tongue ran along your skin to soothe the burn and fingers obeyed, stretching you out just right. Minghao could tell it wasn't enough and his thumb darted to your clit, having you keen in his arms. The moment he curled his fingers up, met your eyes in the reflection and whispered, “cum for me doll.”, all that was building inside you instantly snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

Thank god he held you up against him because as you pressed your legs, riding out your climax, they began trembling. When your sight became clear and you came around, Minghao slowly let you go but whatever fire was burning inside you was not satiated.

Fucking hell.

“You need more?” Minghao chuckled as he took a step back and you turned to him, eyes still hooded with lust.

“Perhaps just another…” You ran your hand down his chest, unzipping his hoodie, revealing his black tank top. “Finish off the favour.”

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “As your campmate I did help. But now as your trainer, I'm going to let you get over the rest on your own.”

“Minghao….” You groaned. If he was going to leave you halfway, he might as well not have done anything. Now you were, in fact, much more turned that you didn't think his fingers could even do the job anymore…..you needed the whole package.

But like he said, Minghao was a man of principles, he wouldn't give in…. unless you could tempt him enough?

Humming you looked around. The four walls of this bathroom did not seem like the right place to try and entice him but thankfully, you remembered Soonyoung’s girlfriend mentioning the bedrooms upstairs.

“Fine.” You agreed, adjusting your clothes and buttoning up while Minghao washed his hands. Perhaps if the two of you found yourself in the proximity of one of those rooms, you could get him to succumb.

As you pulled your hair into a ponytail, Minghao opened the door, holding it for you to leave first but being the girl you were, you wantonly brushed your hand against his erection, pretending your actions were innocent. He stared at you as you walked away from him, stopping only at the edge of the staircase to glance at him before heading up, hoping he was following.

Pushing through the crowd of people making out and feeling each other up in a way that was far from decent, you glanced down the corridor, slightly surprised. The house didn’t seem so big from the outside but the corridor before you looked endless with dozens of rooms on either side. You walked past them, avoiding the ones with socks on the knobs, knocking on some to receive screams of ‘go away’ and ‘taken’ and opening some unanswered doors to sights you wished you never saw. Half disturbed and half amused you continued to try and find an empty room when the sound of a particular something made you stop your tracks, eyes widening.

Your name.

Your name sounding like a strangled moan, repeated over and over, getting breathless with each word.

Gulping, you slowly pushed the door next to you open, both terrified and curious about what you were going to see because a part of you recognised that voice - it was one you heard on camp all the time.

Sure enough, before you was a large bed, Soonyoung sitting against the headboard, his pants pushed down his thighs and his dick in his fist, pumping it hard and fast. He didn’t seem to notice your presence, his eyes screwed shut as your name continued to spill from his mouth. Of course this wasn’t the first time you were seeing Soonyoung do this but something had most definitely changed since last time.

When you took a step ahead, letting the door close behind you, the click of it shutting was what finally got his attention, his eyes flying open. Catching sight of you he immediately swore loudly, tucking his length back into his pants, face turning a lot more red than it already was.

“God woman, how long have you-”

“Long enough to hear whose name you were saying.” You looked at him guiltily. “Soonyoung, you have a girlfriend-”

“Mina and I are not together.” He confessed, gulping.”She wanted to but for the first time ever I refused to….”

“Why?” You whispered, terrified of the answer. Please, please, please. Kwon Soonyoung cannot be in love with you.

“For the last ten years I thought no one could make me feel the way she did and that’s why the two of us belong with each other but….” He sighed. “I learnt that that’s not true.”

You blinked at him as he looked at you softly.

“And you know why it’s not true.”

“Soonyoung we….” You walked in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened between us was just a favour, one friend to another. How can there be something between us-”

“I know.” He nodded. “I’m not saying I’m in love with you or something, I…. I myself don’t really know, all this is new to me too.”

“But what you were doing,” You tried not to glance at his pants where his erection was still very much evident. “That seemed like-”

“Y/n I’ve only ever been with one woman my whole life who gave me a boner before I turned her down for good.” He couldn’t look at you either. “What else could I really do…..”

A part of you understood him. You too were incredibly wound for a while now and you knew what it was like to try and fight it - you too had succumbed. In fact you were still not fully rid of the feeling and Soonyoung was right before you, just as aroused. Yesterday could be justified as an ignorant act whose consequences were not expected but if you went through with this today, there was no coming back from it. It wouldn’t be right…..

But fuck it.

“You didn’t finish, did you?”

Soonyoung shook his head slowly

Sighing, you kicked off your shoes and climbed on the bed on all fours, crawling towards him as he held his breath.

“This is yet another favour.” You clarified, more to yourself than him, “Just so you can understand if it's me you want to fuck or just anyone who's not your girlfriend.”

W-what?” He stuttered as your hand found the waistband of his pants. “We're going to…?”

“We don't have to if you don't want to-”

“Yes.” He breathed out, nodding fast. “God yes I want to.”

Smiling just a little, you pulled his pants down a bit, the way they were when you had entered. His erection sprung out, lying against his shirt, the tip pink and flushed. You were familiar with how it looked, but this was the most up close you had seen it and the first time you touched it as you wrapped your wrist around the base, earning a hiss from him.

“How long have you been hard?”

“Over 20 minutes.” He groaned. “Ever since we spoke at the table…. your ass looked fucking good when you bent over the table.”

“Yeah?” You pumped his length slowly. “You're not too bad yourself. Your abs are hot.”

Almost immediately, without needing to be told, Soonyoung pulled his sweatshirt over his head, tossing it on the floor.

“Good boy.” Tongue darting out, you licked the precum on his slit, looking up at his blown pupils. “You taste good too.”

“Fuck y/n, I might just cum right now.”

“In my mouth?” You cooed. “Not inside me?”

Groaning Soonyoung threw his head back. Honestly, you had no idea how these words were even leaving you - you owed it to both the aphrodisiac coursing through you and also how submissive Soonyoung seemed in your hands. So reactive, so easy to please.

The moment you took his tip in your mouth, his hand gripped your ponytail, trying to push himself further in. Pulling back with a wet pop, you clicked your tongue.

“Uh huh.” You shook your head. “If we do this we do this my way.”

“Do whatever the fuck you want.” He panted, his thighs twitching. “I'm all yours.”

Although you had some thoughts about that statement you didn't voice them. One because you really wanted to suck him off and two because you heard a voice you knew most definitely wasn't Soonyoung.

“So this is how you choose to tempt me.”

Before you Soonyoung froze, eyes looking past you at the door where Minghao was standing. You could tell the man before you was both shocked and embarrassed and wanted to cover himself up but you didn't move to give him room for that.

“If you're worried about your modesty Kwon, you should know I don't give a fuck.” Minghao leaned back against the door. “I'm only interested in what Y/n has to offer.”

Soonyoung looked at you confused as you smiled just a little. Oh you managed to crack him and it didn't even take much.

“Tell him my offer is still open.” You ran your tongue from his base up. “If you’re okay with it too that is.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, finally realising what was happening. You doubted that he wouldn't be okay with it - the man was quite literally falling apart in your hands.

Sure enough, he slowly nodded.

“From only one woman ever to this overnight?” Minghao raised his eyebrow. “Your girlfriend must've put you up to a really strong dose of those sex potions.”

“I didn't drink a-any beer.” Soonyoung muttered as you ran your eyes over his face. He was the same as you - pupils widened, face flushed, breath fast and shallow.

Oh.

“You're telling me that woman isn't capable of slipping in a little something to entice her boyfriend who won't crawl back to her like he always does?” Minghao chuckled. “Because I think so.”

Well wasn't this ideal, now you could justify everything that was happening - it was simply three people succumbing to the effects of an aphrodisiac - nothing personal, nothing beyond anything physical. Except deep down you knew it must mean something if despite being drugged Soonyoung rejected his girlfriend because of you and Minghao who was a man of impeccable self control was crumbling for you.

Except he hadn't really yet.

Deciding to leave the thoughts for another time, you slightly looked over your shoulder at the man who was leaning against the wall.

“Only my mouth is busy, I have two more free holes you know.”

You could tell that something about the energy in the room had shifted the moment you said that, like it was only a matter of time before Minghao joined. Sure enough, you heard the lock of the door click behind you and from the way Soonyoung gulped and his eyes followed his teammate, you could tell Minghao had neared. Wrapping your mouth around the older man's tip again, you hummed at the weight of his dick on your tongue.

“F-fuck.” Soonyoung groaned under his breath.

As the bed dipped behind you, you knew Minghao had climbed in, finally succumbing, finally giving in. .

“Is that the best you got?” He chuckled with a deep voice, pushing your knees apart with his own and running his hand down along your back as Soonyoung stared at him wide eyed. “That won't be enough for me.”

You could feel your mouth practically water, drool leaking down the corner of your lips as you took Soonyoung further in your mouth, earning a pained hiss. Minghao though was still not satisfied as he bent over, one hand unbuttoning your shorts, his breath at the shell of your ear, whispering.

“Take care of my friend and I'll take care of you.” You looked at Soonyoung to see his eyes flickering between the two of you. “The louder he moans, the harder you'll get it.”

Most definitely motivated, you sunk Soonyoung’s length deeper into your mouth, his tip touching the back of your throat, a deep groan leaving the man as his hand gripped your hair again to hold you back.

Minghao smacked it away with the shake of a head as he drew himself back, fingers hooking onto your waistband as he pulled down both your shorts and panties in one go, letting it pool at your bent knees.

You could feel your arousal drip down your legs given how incredibly wet you were. A part of you wanted to see Minghao's face but then you would have missed the sight of Soonyoung panting, looking down at you like the mere smell of you had awakened something wild in him. To make things a whole lot worse, Minghao ran his fingers up your slit, playing with your wetness before gathering it on his digit and holding it out to his friend.

“Want a taste?”

“Bold of you to assume this is my first time.” Soonyoung smirked as he sucked off Minghao's fingers and you grinned to yourself. Atta boy.

Minghao chuckled as he pulled his fingers away, smearing the wetness on the cheek of your ass, landing a smack that sent a sharp sting, making you moan around Soonyoung.

“Barely a week in camp and look at you.” He mimicked his actions on your other cheek, the impact jerking your forward, Soonyoung’s length slipping into your throat. “Good girl.”

“So fucking good.” Soonyoung moaned. “That mouth is divine.”

“Not more than this.” Cupping the curve of your ass, Minghao dipped his finger into your quivering hole. You keened at the sensation, but didn't stop working on Soonyoung's dick - you knew if you gave Soonyoung what he needed, Minghao would give you what you wanted and god did you want to feel full of him. When you grinded against his hips, his hands left you and you finally heard the sound of Minghao's zipper despite the lewd noises leaving your mouth being much louder.

“Fuck baby just like that.” Soonyoug groaned as you picked up the speed, making him feel more and more of your throat.

You still couldn't tell what Minghao was doing, the absence of his touch testing your patience, your teeth accidentally grazing Soonyoung’s dick making him hiss in pain.

Minghao chuckled, adjusting your body on each knee to pull out the clothes on your lower half and when he aligned himself behind you, you could tell he discarded his own too. His hands returned to your ass which you guessed was faint red, a colour that was exceedingly a part of Minghao's life, a colour he seemingly enjoyed. Although you did want him to rail you into tomorrow, you didn't mind if he took a moment to admire what he saw.

As though he was lost in thought about the same, Minghao dragged his dick along your folds, his length bumping your clit and sending a jolt down your nerves, before he aligned himself.

“W-wait” Looking at his friend, Soonyoung let out a strangled cry. “She hasn't been prepped-”

“Oh Kwon.” You felt his tip pushing into your needy wet hole. “She's already ready for me.”

And with that he buried himself to the hilt, the suddenness making you choke around Soonyoung’s length much to the latter's surprise and delight. Barely giving you the time to get a hold of yourself, Minghao began thrusting into you, the force pushing your mouth to take more of Soonyoung, your hands painfully gripping his thighs. The older man, who could have been a little more considerate, also began ramming his dick into your mouth, barely allowing you to breathe.

You could feel yourself losing a grip on reality, one man fucking you onto another - you never thought you would ever find yourself in a situation like this but here you were, being wrecked on both ends by men who were strangers just a week ago but god did it feel good.

Minghao bunched the material of your shirt, pushing it up along your spine, as you pulled yourself away from Soonyoung, desperate to get some air before you passed out. He groaned at the loss of your warm mouth but his expression turned fond as you looked up at him, drool running down your chin messily. Considering you looked absolutely fucked out, you didn't get why he was so enamoured as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Shit I could watch you all day sweetie.”

You wanted to say something back but your throat felt too sore and bruised so you settled on just giving him a sweet smile. Minghao watched the interaction between the two of you intently, his movements slowing down to deep, hard strokes. You could feel him so far in, reaching spots no one ever had before. Not even Cheol’s dildo model.

“Do you need a breather?”

Soonyoung's concern laced voice was echoed by another one that sounded a lot more condescending.

“Do you?”

Though you had barely gotten any air in you for so long and your eyes were threatening to roll back, you knew Minghao would only allow you to cum if Soonyoung did and man did the latter have the stamina of a bull.

Shaking your head you spat in your hand and wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, stroking it.

“I'm tired.” You muttered. “Fuck me Soonyoung.”

Forgetting Minghao’s previous instructions to not use his hands, Soonyoung obeyed, gripping your hair again, guiding your mouth back to his cock.

“Tap me twice if you want to stop.”

Much to his surprise, you took him in at a whole new depth, making him throw his head back in pleasure as he held your head down, dick getting squeezed down your throat. At the same time the man behind you decided to pay attention to your clit, making you tremble at the combined sensation but there was nothing you could do - you were at the mercy of both men.

As Soonyoung loosened his grip, allowing you draw back, you barely had the time to catch a breath before he was fucking his dick into your mouth, at the same speed Minghao was ravaging you from behind.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Soonyoung groaned as his movements got sloppy and his grip tight.

“Fuck I'm gonna come.”

Oh fucking finally.

But to your complete surprise, you felt Minghao's weight press against your back as he leaned over you, hips not stopping their abuse on your hole, whispering,

“Enough.”

Although you knew it was cruel, you immediately tapped Soonyoung’s thigh and the moment he let you go confused, you pulled away, looking at him guiltily as you got on all fours.

“That's my good girl.”

“Xu Mingao.” Soonyoung groaned as the other man drew back. “What the hell?!”

Minghao simply chuckled. “You know how much I enjoy pain.”

“Sadist.” Soonyoung mumbled, trying to push himself to the edge again, pumping his length slick with your spit, hard and fast.

“Oh no.” Minghao shook his head, continuing to fuck the living daylights out of you. “If you cum I'm not letting you get a taste of this.”

“That's for Y/n to tell.”

“Tell him doll.”

You didn't know how he expected you to answer as he rolled his hips against your ass, hitting all the spots.

“Tell him what you want.”

“Don't you…” You moaned as Minghao tightened his grip on you painfully. “Don't you want to cum inside me?”

Muttering under his breath, Soonyoung looked at you with eyes filled with lust. You could tell he was leaning to kiss you, but suddenly Minghao's hand wrapped around your neck, drawing you away.

Sitting on his ankles, he pulled you back till your thighs rested on him and stripped you of your shirt, baring your body to Soonyoung like a mannequin on display.

“Didn't you say you could watch her all day?” He smirked at the older man, hand snaking around your waist. “Now watch.”

You finally seem to understand where the shift in intentions was coming from as he began snapping his hips up into you. Though he wasn't hitting you as deep, his fingers found your clit again and was tightening that knot in you unbelievably fast, your body growing hot and tense.

It was the sound of Soonyoung’s soft sigh that brought you attention back to him as he watched where Minghao disappeared into you with unwavering eyes, fully discarding his pants. When you let out another unholy moan, he looked up, not before his eyes lingered at your tits, his tongue running along his lower lip ravenously. At the sight of him and with Minghao hitting that spot once again, you finally convulsed around him, your orgasm hitting you with an intensity it never had before. Under your grip as tight as a vice, Minghao swore in your ear as he came too, ropes of his release painting your insides.

It was only when his warmth hit your walls that you realised he had not worn a condom and you had not cared.

Before you could justify to yourself that Demigods probably didn't get STDs and it didn't matter, Minghao pulled himself out, depriving you of his girth to clamp around. With a swift movement that was all a blur to you, he manhandled you around till you felt your back aligning against Soonyoung’s chest, the latter spreading your legs apart, the mixed releases leaking out of you, onto his dick.

“Just a little longer.” Minghao tilted your head up by the chin, face hovering over yours. “Be a doll will you?”

You nodded as Soonyoung slipped himself into you with a groan.

“Fuck I don't think I'm going to last long enough anyways.”

Considering you still hadn't even fully come down from your orgasm yet, Soonyoung's intrusion felt like an intense surge of pleasure shooting up your being. Overwhelmingly, in less than a thrust or two, you found yourself cumming again almost immediately, walls fluttering, tightening around him.

Muttering a string of fucks, Soonyoung bit down on your shoulder, his hips moving erratically as he felt himself nearing his high. Cooing into his ear though his thrusts were starting to get painful given your sensitivity, you rolled your hips and with two sharp jerks, Soonyoung finally emptied his load straight into you, cumming copiously.

As he softly held you against him, letting your breaths slowly become regular again, your vision finally cleared and you caught sight of a half naked Minghao before you, watching you snuggled in the arms of his friend. Your eyes ran down, finally catching sight of the dick that had been inside you, lips curling into a small smile.

“Good?”

He asked, scanning your features as he slid off the bed.

“So good.” You muttered, beckoning him with your hand.

Narrowing his eyes confused, he walked around, picking up all the clothes tossed around before he neared you. Pulling him closer to the edge of the bed by the hand, you wrapped your hand around his dick, leaning over to take it in your mouth. As you licked it clean, tasting your mixed releases along his length, you watched his eyes darken.

“Just wanted to be fair.”

“You're not satiated are you?” He smirked amused as you slowly shook your head. “Careful doll, you won't be able to stay conscious through another round with us.”

“I know..” You muttered, snuggling back into Soonyoung’s chest. “I’m tired. Wanna go back.”

“Let's clean you and get you dressed first.” Soonyoung patted your head softly, unwilling to move as your eyes began fluttering shut. “Hao, open that third drawer under the sink, there's washcloths in there.”

“And how do you know that?”

“This is my gir- ex girfriend's room.” Soonyoung muttered.

That information seemed to surprise even Minghao who was usually quite unfazed. “You're crazy Kwon.”

He voiced your thoughts as he disappeared into the bathroom, shaking his head. Within seconds he returned, handing a white towel to Soonyoung who slowly wiped you clean, trying not to brush any sensitive areas.

Just as he finished and his lips softly pressed against your temple asking you not to fall asleep, the sound of a knock resounded in the room, along with a voice.

“Anyone from Camp Seventeen here?”

“Yes.” Minghao and Soonyoung replied at the same time.

“Someone is here looking for your team. Says it's code yellow.”

You watched as the boys shared looks, panicked. Slowly pulling himself away from you, Soonyoung caught the clothes Minghao threw to him, the two of them moving quickly to dress themselves.Pulling your hair into a neat ponytail again and trying to ignore your aching body, you swung your legs off the bed.

“What’s going on?”

“Get dressed.” Minghao handed you your clothes, looking tense. “When a team member calls a code, it means everyone needs to gather immediately.”

You nodded, half understanding as you began to dress yourself. “But what's code yellow?”

Looking at your shivering self, Minghao threw you his hoodie, which you slipped on, letting it envelop you in its warmth.

“Yellow is a moderate danger alert.” Soonyoung held the door open for you as Minghao stepped out. “It most likely means the camp is under attack.”

Oh fuck.

Pushing through the crowd, you followed the boys downstairs, trying not to lose them in their hurry. Noticing you lagging behind thanks to the fact that you were struggling to walk, Soonyoung grabbed your hand, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Seokmin and Joshua laughing away with a group of girls but before you could call them along, you were dragged away in the urgency of the boys you were with. As you reached the front door, coming to a halt right behind Minghao, your eyes fell on the familiar back of a man leaning against the frame.

Oh no.

“Chief.”

Seungcheol turned as both boys bowed, greeting him.

You simply stared wordlessly, as the blonde man's eyes found you, flickering from the jacket you had donned, to Soonyoung's hand which was still holding yours.

Behind him lightning cracked opened the sky and rain began pouring furiously.

a/n - please send me your thoughts - this series is waaaay out of my comfort zone, I need to know I'm not completely messing shit up and if I missed you in the taglist, please lmk! Also please be patient for chapter 3 - I have to temporarily shift focus to my other stories as well, I will be back here soon!

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

Text

queen of hearts - sjn

summary: for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

pairing: johnny x female reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: fluff, romance, comedy | ceo and single dad!johnny + ballerina!reader + modern day!au

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, johnny being an overthinker, sexual innuendos (ten saying dilf hehe), slight explicit language, technical terms of ballet, a mini reference to mean girls

author’s note: sooo i came in touch with my former dance life, which led me to write this. there are links for the variations i used; their names are underlined when they’re mentioned. i am going to get technical with ballet terms here (even when my ballet knowledge decreased), so to any dancers reading, i really did my best, so please don’t come for me or do correct me for any mistakes.

although one character and her dance background, plus the name of the setting, are real, everything else about it is still a work of fiction.

i miss dancing, no cap.

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Ballet student and teacher by day, a soloist of the Korean National Ballet at night.

This was your daily routine, and it wasn’t the typical 8-5. But it’s debatable whether or not it was worse, because you’re always going overtime. That’s the thing when you’re an overachiever. Nonetheless, you loved what you do. It’s the lifestyle you gradually built since your preschool days.

Mornings on the weekdays were mostly vacant since all the kids were still in school. You’d start at 10 am for a warm-up class for the company. Before you delved into teaching and assisting, you’d train right after your lunch break. Partnering class, en pointe class, 1-on-1 sessions with choreographers, self-practice, then the company night class, that’s the organization of your week.

Now adding the teacher title, you mostly handled kindergartners to 5th graders in the academy aspect of the company. Your first teaching class would start at 1 pm. It’s when the younger students who finished their morning classes zoom into your assigned dance studio. One class would last an hour and a half, then you have a 30-minute break in between another class with the older kids. Their lesson repertoire was more strenuous due to the added across-the-floor lessons and jumps. Water was always your best friend, water refilling stations located everywhere in the company building.

You wouldn’t say you’re a strict teacher, but you weren’t shy to correct anyone from wherever you stood. You’d lightly align their arms or back properly so your students were working on the correct body parts. Compared to the other teachers, a lot of students enjoyed your kind yet frank approaches. Your former students, who’ve already gone to the higher levels, missed your lively presence and wished repeatedly that they want you back as their teacher.

“Teacher (Y/N), I miss you so much! Teacher Ten is so intense. I get the jitters especially when we’re en pointe on the floor.”

“Teacher (Y/N), Teacher Sicheng and Teacher Seulgi scare the heck out of me during partnering class. Especially when I tried to lift my partner, I keep losing focus because of Teacher Sicheng’s never-ending comments!”

Not to be sadistic, but you’d simply laugh at their minuscule complaints. Even if they’re struggling in the academy, those comments were directed to fix their techniques if they wanted to breakthrough.

“Kids, you’re going to be fine! They wouldn’t say or do those things just because they wanted to. They’re here to push you to the next level, like how I used to do with you. It’s a cut-throat industry after all.”

This was always your reply, bittersweet and truthful. Not everyone makes it, unfortunately, so if you’re really striving, you’d do whatever it takes. Throughout your career, you’re relatively impressed with how far you’ve come.

Trainee at 17, Corps de Ballet at 18, Demi-Soloist at 21, and Soloist at 23.

You’ve been a soloist for 4 years. The final stage, which was to become a principal dancer, is your running goal. Becoming a soloist was praiseworthy enough because you’ve seen so many give up in the Corps, but claiming a spot as a principal dancer has been the ultimate dream. Since you’ve watched Swan Lake for the first time at 4 years old with your parents, that’s where you found a passion for dancing and the stage. Here you are years later, practicing numerous variations daily, performing in opera houses, and mentoring all these gifted kids.

Your last class with elementary kids, which began around 5 pm, reached its end once all the students curtsied in front of you and scurried to their mothers or their nannies. The remaining plan on your agenda today was the company class at 7:30 pm, which exceeds the average hour and a half. It’s worse during show season. There have been times everyone went beyond midnight to polish every scene from head to toe.

Currently, there’s no upcoming show for the public, though the annual summer recital for the students was around the corner. Selected members of the company were chosen to perform individually in it, which was both exciting and intense. It’s also because it’s an evaluation on whether you’d get promoted in status or staying put. You’ve partaken in 3 recitals in the past, two of which elevated you from the corps and demi-soloist ranks. The recent one, however, didn’t change your soloist ranking.

It was a major first in your career in ballet, and after finding out the result of the latter, it emotionally pained you. Recalling how much soul you put into that piece, the rejection from your artistic director clenched your heart. Though in time, you moved on from it and viewed it as a stepping stone. Also, Sicheng and Ten personally stormed your apartment to pull yourself together with wine and pizza after going on a short leave.

Since you were trainees, Sicheng and Ten were your best friends in and outside the company. Working daily to occasional barhopping, that’s your youth summed up. It wasn’t because you didn’t like the girls you’ve worked with (though a lot of them were fake and bitchy), but these two were frank and humorous as hell. Together, you’d help each other with your goals rather than be competitive. Over time, Ten leveled up to a principal dancer for 2 years running while you and Sicheng were still soloists. The way you’d watch Ten take all the big roles, that’s where you want to be one day.

Back in your last teaching class, the entire dance room was vacant. Since it’s mainly used for ballet classes, you’d either run through anything you’ve practiced from the company classes and polish it or warm up a little bit more.

Except for today, this was the only free time to sew a new pair of pointe shoes because your current ones were dead. Dead in a sense that the hard shell turned soft, which won’t be able to support you when you’re up on your toes. You’re not taking any risks of minor injuries especially when you’re in the current lineup of company members performing for this upcoming recital again. You have to prove to everyone that you deserve a position as a principal dancer.

As your legs sprawled in a half middle split, your sewing equipment laid in front of you like you’re about to perform surgery, a tiny girl stood by the ajar studio doors. In her neat bun and holding on to her small duffel bag, you’re convinced everyone has gone home already since it’s quite late.

You may have your priorities as a company member, but she was still your student.

“Minji!” You shouted her name, speedily waving your hand. You’re not one to have favorites, though you couldn’t help wonder how extraordinary she was. She’s always taking charge in demonstrating the lessons to everyone and improving every session in the 3 years she’s joined the academy. “Come in! Come in!”

At age 7, she’s gotten taller through the years, above the average from how you see it. She must have amazing genetics. Her legs sauntered in seconds to you. Sitting down across you, she marveled at your setup. Specifically, at the fresh pointe shoes.

“Are those yours, Teacher (Y/N)?” She perked up, caressing its soft fabric and playing with the mini bows of the drawstrings.

“Yes, it is, Minji!” You answered while trying to insert the thin thread through the small eye of the needle. “Why are you still here? Is your nanny stuck in traffic or something?”

“My nanny went on sudden leave, so my dad’s the one fetching me. But I think he’s running late from his job.”

Oh, this was a first to know about her father. In all the years she’s been your student, you rarely caught sight of him, even in recitals. Maybe he sat in an unknown section, but you’re pretty much acquainted with all the parents of your students. Even if some were snobbier than the rest because they wanted their child to have more stage time, you still got to know them out of respect. Quite odd, if you said so yourself.

After deep concentration, the thread triumphantly passed through the eye so you tied the two ends of the thread in a double knot. Seeing as Minji attentively watched you, you tasked her to cut the ribbons of your shoes according to the trail of pencil marks. This was so she wouldn’t cut it too short or too long. While she did that, you hammered your shoes against the floor to soften the hard front, bending the shank back and forth so the arch of your feet could move without difficulty later.

Minji wasn’t expecting such loud sounds, her entire body shaken awake. Her facial expression was priceless, explaining to her, “Once you get your first pointe shoes in a few years, this is one of the basic things you need to do so your feet won’t hurt too much while dancing.”

“Will you be there to teach me how to make my pointe shoes?”

“Absolutely! Come to me first then I’ll mentor you all that I know.”

The process of sewing and breaking new pointe shoes engraved your mind since your adolescent years, with changes along the way. Inspired by some tricks from your former teachers, but there were some differing rituals you followed. There’s no definite process of it, just as long you’re comfortable to dance after.

With your feet, you stepped on the hard boxes of the shoes to soften it more, creating a popping sound. Followed by sewing your elastic bands in. For your ribbons, you liked to burn the edges with a lighter so the thread of it won’t run. Kindly asking your cute assistant for the lighter beside her, you scanned the edges back and forth the flame. In seconds, the edges had a distinct mark, fully closed. From there, you slid your feet to your shoes to make final sewing adjustments. Sewing your ribbons took you another few minutes, plus adding superglue inside the shoe so the shoe won’t collapse when it unstiffens and scratching the shank with a cutter so you won’t slip later while dancing.

Voila, the final product is done! Hopefully, it can last you a week at least.

“Wow, Teacher (Y/N), it looks pretty!” Minji applauded, collecting the mess you’ve both made to dispose of later. You, on the other hand, gave her your thanks once you applied some bandages on your big toes and put on your toe pads. Slipping inside the shoes and tying them, you rose up back to your feet and headed to the bar to break them in. From plies-relevésto forced arches, the shoes gave you the sensation that they were an extension of your feet. The ease flowed through, meaning you were ready to practice your variations.

While you stepped your shoes in rosin for friction, your curious student moved to the front where the mirror lied to watch what you’ve prepared.

“What variation are you dancing to?”

“This is the Gamzatti variation from La Bayadere.” You replied, tapping the play button on your phone and racing to your position on the side. Talking a short ballet walk, you strongly prepared your arms before the music of the orchestra takes off.

This variation consisted of a lot of jumps and turns. Grand jetés, attitude turns, chaîné turns, you needed a lot of core control and proper spotting so you won’t get dizzy. The thrilling music lessened your nerves because you enjoyed learning this piece from one of the principal dancers, smiling and letting the music guide your legs. Once you nailed 3 consecutive grand jetés, the variation ended with a sus-sous and the wrists of your hands flicking upwards.

Holding it for 5 more seconds, you landed back on your feet with heavy breathing and a need for water. But before you could, small claps and cheers from Minji in front erupted. Momentarily, you’ve forgotten her presence because dancing solo puts you in your own space. You’d never let anyone take you away from it.

“Teacher (Y/N), that was wonderful! Are you performing that in the summer recital?”

Yikes, she’s right but she wasn’t meant to see it yet. Solo performances from the company members for the recital were top secret, only unveiled during the production rehearsal. Well, you didn’t think this through, but you didn’t mind.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Time ticked a lot faster today, only 10 minutes left until the company class on the ground floor whereas you were in the second. Just a few steps down the stairs away, yet Minji was still here. You only presumed that within your hour break, her father could’ve made it already. But maybe he’s stuck in traffic or at work.

“Minji, my class starts soon. Have you contacted your father?”

“I already texted him earlier, but he hasn’t responded. This happens often, he’s a busy man.” She bowed in front of you suddenly. “I’m sorry, Teacher (Y/N) for the hassle.”

“Oh no, please!” You shook your hands so she’d stop. Because this situation was relatively new, you were unsure of how to handle it. Or that was until you remembered what Ten texted you earlier. “Minji, the blinds of the main studio are going to be lifted so anyone from the outside can view us practicing. Would you like to watch until your dad gets here?”

With her insistent nodding, she situated herself in one of the seats in the front row. When you entered the main studio, your two close companions already carried a metal barre to the center and leaned towards it while observing you walking to them in your flat shoes.

“I see we have a bit of an audience here.” Ten glimpsed at the young girl, astonished by the many dancers prepping and chatting away with their cliques from the glass barrier.

“Her dad isn’t here yet, and you did say the blinds were up today. Might as well give her a show while she waits, you know.” You lifted your right leg to the top barre, stretching it with your arms.

“Hmmm, shouldn’t her dad be more cautious though? It’s getting late and it’s a Thursday. Doesn’t she have school or something?” Sicheng pointed out, discarding his muscle tee to straighten out his leotard.

“That’s not my business though. She’s just my student, and since she’s still here, I have to entertain her while she waits.”

Before your friends said anything back, the artistic director of the ballet company strutted her way to the center of the room. It’s a common rule here that once she entered, everyone must be silent to listen and race to any free spot in the numerous barres spread out if they haven’t.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll do the typical barre, then before doing across the floor exercises, I’ll be requesting those performing solos already in the recital to dance any variation tonight as another evaluation on who deserves to perform twice.” She eyed the pianist directly beside her. “Proceed first with two demi-pliés then one grand plié. Don’t forget to do the port de bras of each position.”

As the live piano music played, your focus was divided. Partly properly executing the exercise while your artistic director roamed each barre area, partly thinking about what variation to perform. This was a first for the company, and everyone was just stunned to hear the breaking news. It’d be nice to get an extra opportunity to showcase to people your potential.

30-40 minutes flew by quickly. As the guys carried the bars to the side to clear out the floor and the girls changed to their pointe shoes, the artistic director ordered all the performers of the recitals to stand in a line in front of her. Everyone else was seated around the room, so the interested eyes of everyone were on you. There were 10 performers, half are from the corps and the other half are either demi-soloists or soloists. You and Sicheng stood beside each other, internally shaking with nerves under the intimidating eyes of the artistic director. She used to be a principal dancer for the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany before moving back to Seoul, making her undeniably capable of leading all of you.

“Okay,” From her seated position observing the 10 performers, her finger pointed at you directly. “Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), you perform first.”

Your nerves intensified and more sweat streamed out your upper body. Even if going first felt more relieving, no one was ever brave enough to perform individually in front of the esteemed artistic director. Principal dancers aside from Ten that you’re close with were intimidated when they have 1-on-1 or partnering sessions with her. But anyhow, in less than 2 minutes, you’d be done. This wasn’t the first time she’s had your full attention either, so you’ll treat it like the other individual performances you’ve had.

You smiled to yourself when the other soloists left you alone, while you gave the name of the variation you’re dancing to the pianist. Running to the side to put on a practice tutu, the artistic director asked, “What will you be dancing for us tonight, (Y/N)?”

“I’ll be dancing Queen of the Dryads from Don Quixote.”

The last time you did this variation was 3 years ago during the recital that didn’t change your position as a soloist. Even if this variation hurt to think about for a while, it was still one of your favorites to watch and do. Moving on, you could only muse how powerful and beautiful you felt at that time. This isn’t an easy piece to perform in your opinion. Yet according to the members of the company, this was their favorite solo of yours.

As the starting notes unfolded, you took a deep breath and elegantly walked into the frame. You only wished you wore your fake crown again for this. Minimal smiling and light arms, you imagined yourself as an actual queen who captured the eyes of many. In this case, your fellow seniors and juniors held their breaths at the captivating sight of you.

Off you go into a series of glissade jeté developpé on relevé at elevating heights, then a fouetté arabesque and another arabesque on relevé before ballet walking again to the side to dance across the stage. Sissonne to the front, right developpé to the front on relevé, pique to prepare for a single pirouette, you gracefully did a chassé to the front twice and stood on your toes with a sus-sous.

Doing it a few more times, the climax of the entire variation was nearing. Returning to the center, you took another deep breath and lifted your left leg for the Italian fouettés. Spotting to the front and back while maintaining your balance, the variation approached its end with lame duck turns, posing with your arms were positioned at a 45-degree angle, your back slightly arched and your left leg doing a tendu derriére. Your eyes reflected at the mirror in front, surveying your alignment. Once your 5-second hold was finished, you properly put your arms down and closed your back leg into 5th position.

The applause from everyone in the room roared, Ten and Sicheng wolf-whistling even for more support. It’s a usual thing every time any of you perform individually, and no one minded it. The artistic director grinned, giving a quiet clap from the front before calling out the next performer, who was from the corps. Bowing to everyone hastily, you paid more attention to spot your student by the window. She was smiling ear to ear, waving both hands at you.

“You did amazing, Teacher!” She mouthed. Hearing words of praise from members was one thing, but hearing them from students was another. You’re so used to watching them and giving them your compliments that you often forget that you’re a dancer first before a teacher. Seeing them all delighted, saying that it motivates them more, showed that you’re doing a great job teaching them. You’re a reflection of what you pass down, and all you want was for them to be the best they could be.

From her jolly expression, a tall masculine silhouette hovered a part of the window. Her instinct of giving a brighter smile when the hand of said silhouette patted her head then carried her duffel bag again, that could only mean one thing. Excusing yourself to the artistic director, you stepped out to bid your goodbye and maybe meet her father. Minji and the tall man were about to leave the building if it weren’t for your breathy voice calling them out.

“Seo Minji and Mr. Seo?”

They stopped their tracks. Minji was fast to react, familiar with your voice and racing towards you for a sweaty hug. Meanwhile, your focus shifted once the masculine silhouette came into full view. You finally understood why Minji’s growth spurt spiked up, noticing that he was taller than Sicheng.

The top buttons of his shirt were off, yet he kept his formal blazer on. His hair was a bit tousled, some strands falling in front of his forehead. He must’ve run here. Peeking through were some roots of his scruff growing. His eyebags were almost as dark as his brown hair. Yet by the way his Rolex remained spotless, you blatantly assumed that he was more than well-off. Especially when the ballet academy was one of the most prestigious ones in Seoul.

Out of all the parents you’ve met, none of them appeared youthful like him.

“Teacher (Y/N)?” Thanks to Minji, you moved your staring eyes away from him. This was another first, since meeting only the fathers of your students wasn’t your norm. Meeting young-looking fathers, to be specific.

“O-Oh,” You ate your words, suddenly blanking out. “You’re leaving me without saying goodbye, Minji? Not polite of you.”

“My father was rushing right after watching your performance, and I don’t know why.” She responded, her finger scratching the top of her head in confusion. Speaking of said father, his strong presence appeared right in front of you. The wrinkles of his forehead creased while his eyes barely looked at yours.

“Uhm,” His fingers toyed with his Rolex. “I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up in work and all, plus her nanny le-”

“Mr. Seo.” You halted his rambling, already aware of the situation. Like father, like daughter. “It’s fine. Minji loved watching us practice while waiting, and she wasn’t a bother either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Phew.” He swiped an imaginative bead of sweat from his forehead, displaying his relief with his playful nature.

At age 23, Johnny Seo started his own company in the fashion scene and it grew internationally in the coming years. Then when Minji unexpectedly joined the picture, he’s been multi-tasking to make ends meet. Lately, as a CEO, he has had meetings and conferences on a daily. So, his position as a single father was always tested. It worsened when he rarely has proper time to spend any time with Minji unless it’s the weekend or late in the evening. Breaking it down, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet you. It was more like he couldn’t when his schedules were packed from head to toe.

Having the guilt of taking your precious time, “Seriously though, I am sorry for being late. Her nanny resigned suddenly, and I have no time to find her replacement.”

“Mr. Seo, again, don’t worry about it. As her teacher and a company member, I am practically here 24/7 so it won’t be a nuisance at all if this happens again.”

“Thank you so much, Teacher (Y/N). That is your name, right?” He planted his palm on his forehead, stressed. “Being a single parent is hard. I am always forgetting things.”

A part of you couldn’t restrain from feeling sorry for his struggle. Taking care of a child should be the work of both the mother and father, not one of them being absent. You’ve feared this would harm Minji, but she’s a strong girl.

“The fact you didn’t forget to fetch Minji despite the late time is still something to be happy over. I’m not a parent or anything, but parenting, in general, is a challenge.” You added an insight, patting the head of the young girl beside you. “Cut yourself some slack, Mr. Seo. I’m sure Minji still loves you, right?”

Minji shouted a big yes, now clinging to the leg of her father. “It’s okay, dad. Really.”

Over the years, Johnny has been doubtful of his parenting skills. He was an only child, and he struggled to ask for guidance from his own parents due to the shame of having a kid at a young age. So, he’d ask for help from his other friends and co-workers. No matter how many times they’ve reassured him that he’s doing well, he’s an overthinker who always reflected on the bad scenarios. There’s also that pressure to find someone who can fill that absent position not just for Minji, but for himself too. No matter how many girls he’s asked out or been set up with, he failed in the love department badly.

It’s the soothing way you voiced out your truth that made all these negative thoughts running through his head freeze briefly. Over the past 3 years since Minji started ballet, she always had a great story about you to share. One of them was how ballet made her a lot happier because of your influence. If he had at least an hour of his day to meet any of his daughter’s mentors, it would’ve been you.

“Do feel free to call me Johnny instead.” He casually introduced himself, taking his hand out for you to shake. “Mr. Seo makes me feel like I’m at work right now.”

Despite his informal approach, you understood his intentions and returned the action with a promising smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Teacher (Y/N).”

Earlier, the nerves from performing in front of the artistic director died down fast. But for some reason, they rose back up when you’ve spoken to this man in a matter of minutes. As someone whose feelings don’t flourish in a single glance, why did this man specifically deliver you such a strong effect?

If it weren’t for Ten calling for your name by the door, you would’ve held on to Johnny’s hand longer, which would’ve been inappropriate. Letting go first, this was your cue to return to your class.

“I must head back inside, Johnny. Don’t sweat on fetching your daughter late, though she is still a student with school the following day. Right, Minji?”

Minji nodded as Johnny kept that mind, knowing where he has to improve next. “Yes, Teacher (Y/N). Thank you again, sincerely. I’ll definitely see you again in the coming days until Minji has a new nanny.”

“That’s no problem with me at all, Johnny.”

Soon as Johnny held his daughter’s hand to exit the studio and you were re-entering the studio with an impatient Ten, he swerved swiftly as if he forgot something.

“Oh by the way Teacher (Y/N), I saw your whole performance awhile ago. I was blown away, you deserved the applause.”

Although you could only distinguish his silhouette, you didn’t suppose he watched you from head to toe. Most parents or nannies would’ve dragged their kids out of the studio once they find them like they were on a tight schedule, so this was novel to experience. That performance showed your prime too.

“Thank you, Johnny. See you again soon.”

Giving a final nod, you led yourself back to the studio, not bothering to acknowledge the erupting heat on your cheeks and entire body. Not to sound narcissistic, but compliments weren’t foreign to you. You’re conscious of the hard work that you put in your talent and if they pointed out your greatness, why would you deny it? However, receiving one from Johnny was like gearing your engine with new fuel.

Before you could try to reject these harboring feelings, Ten was fast to pick up on it. You cannot hide anything from this man at all because body language was like another language he’s fluent in (aside from the other 5). Unlucky for you, the saga continued.

“You’re so into dilfs, (Y/N)!” He shrieked in your ear, nudging your shoulder repetitively. He placed things in his own way, yet they always shocked you because it was so inappropriate. Typical Ten for you.

“Shut up, Ten!” You objected, watching the other performers. You’ve improved in ignoring his remarks over time. That was until Sicheng sat down beside you after his solo and got up in your business. That placed you in the middle of boys from the water sign clan of astrology. They just loved getting down to your love life, going raunchy and whatnot.

“Who’s into dilfs, Ten?”

“A Miss (Y/N) beside you, who met Minji’s dad awhile ago, was basically eye-fucking him.” Ten elaborated, planting his elbows on your leg and gave you a sneaky glare. “Minji’s dad is fine as fuck, guys! I’m telling you, like a literal god! I’m surprised this is the first time he showed up here after 2-3 years?”

“How come (Y/N) is always getting students with good-looking parents? Especially the single moms.” Sicheng slumped his shoulders, attempting to get your attention too. “Is he that hot, (Y/N)?”

“Yah.” Sighing with annoyance, you’ve given up trying to appreciate one of the corps dancers with her rendition of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. “Don’t speak of Johnny like that. You barely know the man, yet you talk about him so unprofessionally."

“Oh, Johnny is his name, huh?” Sicheng sing-songed, bobbing his head. He’s certainly going to stalk him later on social media, you felt it in your chest. Like it was ESPN or something.

“Talking about being unprofessional, yet you’re here referring him as Johnny, not Mr. Seo.” Ten barked back, his lips pursed and one eyebrow lifted.

Just as soon as you could retaliate, the artistic director’s velvety voice boomed the room.

“Alright, thank you to the performers. I will deliberate with the staff and principal dancers over the weekend, and let you know the results on Monday. Now please, let’s proceed to the center.”

Everyone began to spread out on the wide floor, snatching a good position so they could monitor themselves in the mirror. Maybe you’ll defend yourself later after class because now, you needed to beat everyone else and have a crystal-clear view of yourself doing these following exercises.

In the meantime, Johnny was in the middle of driving Minji home. He had a designated chauffeur, but he gave him the night off because he wanted to spend time with Minji. Around this time, she’d be sleeping soundly, but instead, she’s boosting with so much life. She hasn’t even eaten dinner yet, which was the first thing on Johnny’s agenda now.

Playing Coldplay in the car, Minji belted some lyrics from her favorite songs while Johnny smiled to himself while listening to her attentively. Taking a breath, her thoughts reverted to her fantastic ballet teacher and shared them with her father.

“Dad! Don’t you just think Teacher (Y/N) is so cool? Ugh, I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Oh, to become a ballerina like her, you have to work hard every day and memorize lessons fast. Are you up for it, Minji?”

“Absolutely, dad! I want to pull off perfect jumps and turns like her one day!”

In the other after-school activities Johnny enrolled Minji in the past, none of them compared to the passion she had for ballet. Her work ethic was alike to Johnny’s: if they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.

Aside from being a star student in her school, she’s aiming to be a star ballerina. Being the supportive father he is, Johnny was on board to do what it takes to make it happen. Unlike his parents trying to mold him into the next heir of their company, he’s all ears to the dreams of his daughter. His only dream for her was to be live long and happy, not to merely pass on anything.

Johnny lost so much in his young life, so he doesn’t want to lose Minji in any way. As much as he loves his profession, he wanted to be an active father as much as time allowed it. He mostly received complaints from others that he’s not prioritizing his time well, but after hearing your kind words, this heavy weight on his shoulders decreased. All this doubt started to vanish after meeting you for the first time.

“Dad! Isn’t Teacher (Y/N) so beautiful?” Minji honored whilst gazing at the twinkling night sky. “She loves what she does and shines at it.”

Johnny was accustomed to his female co-workers throwing themselves at him due to his attractiveness, more than flattered even to have them feeling weak for him. Yes, there were times he used it to his advantage, some he frankly turned down.

However, the radiance you carried whether you’re dancing or not was something Johnny couldn’t cease wondering about. Unknown to him, he’s the one getting weak. Behold, an unlocked first for the confident CEO.

“Yes, Minji. I do think Teacher (Y/N) is absolutely beautiful.”

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siren-dragon · 3 years ago

Text

Cultural Studies -- The Cat Returns fanfic

Hello again, guess who wrote another one-shot! Anyway, this prompt came to me (along with several others, lol) so I decided to write something for it. Also, big thanks to everyone who enjoyed my first story. Also, Haru’s outfit is based on the yukata from the Love Nikki game and I may draw something for this story at a later date. Anyway, please enjoy!

AO3 story link Tagging: @mysticsoulgirl

Prompt: Summer Fireworks Festival

=======================================================

Though the Sanctuary, and by extension the Cat Bureau itself, experienced many a visitor wishing for assistance with one thing or another- it wasn’t exactly a stationary place. True, anyone could follow Muta from the Crossroads and through the twists and turns of Japan’s alleys to locate the entryway arch, but that wasn’t truly the Bureau’s physical location. Anyone who was in need could find the Sanctuary entrance, all they had to do was merely look for it. So, while Baron was not unaccustomed to a variety of clients (even if the quantity seemed to have diminish over the years), it was always a study in new cultures when a guest appeared. Even when the cat figurine made a point to be open and courteous to a visitor, there were often a few things he gained new knowledge of.

“A fireworks festival? I’m afraid I’ve not heard of such a thing before.” He spoke, handing Haru a now size-appropriate cup thanks to the Bureau’s magic.

The dark brunette offered a small word of thanks and a bright smile before continuing. “Really? Oh, they’re great fun. Originally it was started as a festival for the dead; to mourn the lost one while celebrating life. But nowadays it’s just a fun activity to watch while eating festival food with friends.”

“Did I hear someone mention food?” Muta spoke, closing the front door behind him. “Hey Chicky, you bring any snacks with you today?”

From the upstairs balcony came a snort of displeasure. “You ever think of anything aside from your stomach,” Toto drawled, rolling his eyes at the cat’s one-track mind.

“What was that birdbrain?!”

“Oh, come on, think of a new insult piggy-cat!”

Before the fight could escalate anymore Haru, now a more convenient size for Baron’s home, rose from her seat on the sofa and lifted a bag where the scent of sugar and fresh fruit wafted throughout the room. “If you two are going to fight, then Baron and I will eat this by ourselves- including the mulberries I got special for you Toto.”

Both cat and crow immediately silenced themselves before tossing a glare at the other, “You got lucky, big chicken.”

“Sure thing, marshmallow.”

Baron sighed, taking out the necessary cutlery before Muta decided to forego the use of utensils. “Muta, have you experienced such festivals in the Human Realm?”

“What festivals?”

“The fireworks festival coming up this weekend,” Haru clarified as she handed Toto the collection of mulberries she brought.

It was here that the ex-con feline grinned, “oh yeah. Gotta love summer festivals in Japan with all their fried food and sweets. Best time to be a cat.”

Toto snickered, “why am I not surprised; you only think from your stomach.”

“Shut up!”

“There’s also games where you can win prizes and some shops as well. And at the end there is large fireworks show everyone watches to celebrate the summer season.” It was here that Haru’s excited smile seemed to dim slightly, “I was going to go with Hiromi, but she has a family reunion to attend. And my Mom will be out of town during that weekend- so I’ll just be watching it from my house.”

As a figurine being made out of wood, anything associated with fire was typically something Baron tried to actively avoid. And while he would deny it fervently later onto a rather smug looking Muta and Toto, the slightly disheartened expression on Haru’s face sent a rather unpleasant sensation through his chest sent nearly all thoughts of self-preservation out the window. It reminded him of their previous adventure in the Cat Kingdom; with her clad in a fine, pale-yellow gown and wearing a look of absolute despair despite it having been her so called “wedding day”. And so, it was not 2 seconds later that he found the words tumbling from his lips without any kind of second thought.

“Perhaps we can accompany you to this festival instead, Haru.”

That certainly caused the brunette to stare at him in surprise, yet a spark of joy danced within her caramel eyes. “Really? You guys would want to go with me?”

“Hey, if there’s food then you can count me in.” Muta shrugged, finishing his slice of chiffon cake.

Toto nodded, “I’m sure it’d be a great experience; what with the lack of clients to the Bureau.”

Haru beamed brightly with sheer delight, “Thank you everyone, I’m sure you all will love it!”

When Haru had finally left for the day, a definite spring in her step, Muta couldn’t help but turn a sly grin to his fellow feline. “Well, that was rather generous of you to volunteer us for something you didn’t even know about till 30 minutes ago.”

“I’m not sure what you are inquiring Muta. It was quite clear that Miss Haru was looking forward to this festival and it would be unbecoming of a gentleman to allow her to merely remain home alone and miss the event entirely.”

Toto nodded, “I have to say, I agree with Baron on this one. But I don’t think it was that difficult to persuade you after that melancholic expression crossed her face.”

Baron gave a displeased frown to his colleague’s rambunctious laughter, which did nothing to hide the slight tint of pink beneath his cream-colored fur. Honestly, since when was chivalrous behavior become a source of mockery? And yet… the sight of Haru’s joyful smile was more than worth it.

“So, are you going to wear a yukata?”

“A what?”

That answer only made the hefty white cat laugh louder.

======================================================

“Muta… are you quite sure that this garment is placed on correctly.”

“If the picture is anything to go by, then yeah. Besides; you can’t wear a suit with tails to a summer festival- you’ll stick out too much.” The large cat answered, glancing down at the newspaper advertisement in his hands before looking back to his much shorter friend. “Hmm, I think that’s right.”

“You idiot, tie for the sash is supposed to be in the back.” Toto commented, taking the advertisement with his beak to compare the image to Baron’s new attire. “See, there isn’t a giant bow in the front.”

“Okay first, it’s called an obi and second, stop butting in birdbrain!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you knew what you were doing, fluff-ball!”

Baron was going to attempt to silence their bickering before the sash about his waist loosened slightly causing the robe to flutter open and expose part of his chest and collarbone before the ginger feline took hold of the garment’s sides and quickly held them closed. He briefly wondered if it would perhaps be better to merely wear his typical suit before a knock sounded on the door- halting Muta and Toto’s argument. The crow quickly flew toward the door and swiftly opened the door to reveal Haru. She too was clad in a traditional yukata of navy blue with ivory and cream-colored stars swirling around a crescent moon at the hem of the dress before continuing upward. The sash wrapped around her waist took on a pale blue color while the right sleeve of her dress shifted colors; with the stars now dark and the fabric white shade. Though her hair was cut short, it was still pinned back by a blue, yellow, and orange silk flower with the latter two colors matching the shade of his own fur. To be perfectly honest, she looked quite breath-taking.

“Baron are you wearing a yukata?” She grinned, noticing his change of attire immediately which only made the statuette cling to the folds of the loosened robe all the more tightly. “I didn’t even know you had one!”

“Well, Muta saw fit to inform me this is the traditional attire for a summer festival so it is a recent addition to my wardrobe. However, I seem to be having a bit of trouble actually dressing.” He answered, unable to prevent the sigh from leaving his lips at his current dishevelment.

Haru giggled, placing her small bag on the sofa before approaching him. “Don’t worry, it’s always challenging for a first-timer. Here, you just need a little bit of adjusting…”

Despite his attempt to remain calm at the innocent offer, Baron couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face as Haru approached and began shifting the obi about his waist he had attempted to tie on earlier. He still kept his hand clenched about the folds of the yukata as Haru expertly straightened the robe, to which he gave her a very grateful smile. Soon he was now properly clothed, even wearing the haori properly before Haru stepped back to admire her handy work (though Baron felt a slight twinge of disappointment at her shift away from him). “There we go, a perfect fit.”

“Thank you, Haru. And may I say, you look lovely as well.”

She beamed at his reply as she moved to retrieve her bag. “Thanks Baron. But if you wanted to wear a yukata, I could have helped you find one.”

Muta shook his head, “that would have ruined the surprise Chicky. Plus, nothing was more amusing than watching Baron try to put it on.”

“As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated Muta.” Baron replied dryly, remembering the past hour where both his friends tried to guide him in how to wear the clothes.

As they walked through the archway of the Sanctuary, Muta walked ahead of them now on all fours while Toto took to the skies. However, as soon as Baron exited alongside Haru, he grew till he was once more a head taller than the dark-haired young woman instead of a foot-tall figurine. But the fact that his feline appearance remained gave Haru pause- knowing most would not really take the appearance of a half-cat man kindly (even if people believed it to be a ridiculously realistic mask). But it seemed her thoughts were rather evident on her face, because Baron was quick to assuage her fears. “Do not worry Haru, there is a spell in place masking my real appearance. You are the only one who can see the truth.”

“I didn’t know you can use such spells, Baron.” She asked curiously.

He nodded, offering his arm to her which she gladly accepted. “Yes, though I am afraid they are only temporary. But I thought this would make our evening engagement far more enjoyable without any disturbances from bewildered onlookers.”

“It’s no trouble at all, actually I think it’s a good idea. It does make me curious as to how your disguise looks.”

Baron paused and gestured to the glass window of a shop they were walking past, “see for yourself.”

Turning to the window, Haru looked at Baron’s reflection nearly jumped in alarm upon not seeing the familiar feline characteristics she had come to cherish. Instead, the face of a young man who looked a few years older than herself gazed back at her from the reflection. His hair was a light tawny blonde the same shade as Baron’s fur, perfectly coiffed to suit the Creation’s usual debonair attire. Where once fur and whiskers existed was now fair skin and a rather amused smile taking in her slightly bewildered expression. Yet despite the disguise, Haru took comfort in the fact that Baron’s eyes were still the same shade of mint-green.

“That is rather impressive, if a bit shocking at first.” She laughed a little nervously.

Baron frowned, “does it bother you too much?”

“No, it’s not that,” she answered with a shake of her head before beaming up at him. “I just prefer you the way you are, that’s all.”

It was the second time in the past few days that Baron found his words failing him once again at her kind, yet honest words.

======================================================

Perhaps the first thing that caught Baron’s attention were the vibrant banners illuminated by dozens of lights and lanterns. The street was lined with colorful booths, each hosting a different attraction as friends and families traveled back and forth to every single one. It was a rather jarring change from the peace and quiet of the Cat Bureau, but as he glanced down at the excited grin on Haru’s face as she enthusiastically explained each booth’s function, Baron couldn’t help the pleased smile drifting across his face. “So then, what would you recommend we do first?”

“Food, I’m starving!” Muta cried from about their legs before he bolted down the street, causing several people to laugh at the rather large cat obviously following the scent of frying food. “Takoyaki, here I come!”

Haru laughed, “well, food always is a good choice. Though we’d best pace ourselves, festival food is great, but not exactly healthy.”

“Then I shall follow your lead, Haru.” Baron added, glancing around briefly with a bit of confusion drifting across his face, “I must admit, I thought a fireworks festival would have more of that particular attraction.”

“That happens at the end of the night, mainly because it’ll be darker and it’ll give us a chance to see most of the booths before we have to find seats to watch the fireworks. But we’d best find Muta before he manages to pilfer too many snacks.”

Baron chuckled, “I think it’s more of his charming attitude that wins him such favors.”

Haru couldn’t help but laugh at that, and judging from the faint cawing above their heads, Toto heard it as well. “Well, we’d best hurry before that charm gets a bit carried away.”

The couple soon found their way further into the festival and managed to find Muta, who looked rather smug at having charmed a piece of taiyaki from a group of teenage girls. True to her word, Haru managed to procure a few treats for them all to try, ranging from takoyaki to kakigori to some onigiri before they walked to where Toto waited upon a nearby but isolated tree. Muta had nearly claimed all of the takoyaki while Toto took a liking to the plain onigiri and the roasted chestnuts Baron was eating. Though Baron was not overly found of the deep-fried food, he couldn’t deny that the kakigori Haru offered was quite delicious.

As the sun soon sank below the horizon and the sky turned dark with the coming night, many people started moving away from the bright lights of the festival stalls to await the oncoming fireworks display. “We don’t really want to be too close to all the larger crowds, so we’ll stay on the outskirts instead.” Haru informed them, taking a seat beside the grass. “And I wanted to thank you guys again, for coming with me.”

“Nonsense Haru, this was most enjoyable and we were happy to accompany you.”

“Even though you had to forgo your suit?” She replied with a teasing grin.

Baron gave a slightly sheepish look, “I will admit that dressing did pose quite the challenge, but well worth the effort.”

“Even still, thank you for being such a good sport about it. And I’m glad you had a good time.” Haru chimed happily, turning to look at the ever-growing groups awaiting the final event of the festival. “Hopefully we’ll be able to see everything with so many people…”

“Well, we merely need a seat with a view; and I believe I may have a solution.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The ginger gentle-cat only offered her a hand with a secret smile, “Just trust me.”

At the familiar words, Haru rested her hand upon his and watched as the world around them seemed to stretch upward as her height plummeted to its usual size whenever she visited the Bureau. Toto then landed beside them, offering a place upon his back with Baron holding on tightly the Stone Creations black feathers and Haru wrapping her arms about his waist. Once they were situated on the now gigantic crow, Toto rose high into the air (though not before snatching Muta in his claws much to the large cat’s displeasure while muttering something that sounded like “always a showoff.”) before gliding through the evening sky.

They were only flying for a few minutes before a high-pitched whistle sounded only to be followed by a large explosion of white and gold lights as the fireworks show began. Haru watched in silent amazement as they soared the atmosphere as each of the colorful illuminations danced around them like falling stars. She a joyful laugh at sheer sight of the fireworks show from a literal bird’s eye perspective, “alright, now this is a view.”

“I must agree,” Baron added, though it was hard to hear over the sound of the fireworks.

Moving her head forward, Haru placed a gentle kiss upon Baron’s fur-covered cheek before leaning to rest her cheek against his back. “Just for the record, this is the best fireworks festival I’ve ever been to.”

And for the third time in Haru’s presence, Baron found himself at a loss for words as a pleasing warmth started to overcome his face. Yet as he turned to watch the brilliant lights display with the young woman beside him, he had to admit that it certainly was an enjoyable evening.

#the cat returns #neko no ongaeshi #baron humbert von gikkingen #haru yoshioka #renaldo moon #muta #toto (cat returns)#haru x baron #fanfiction #summer festival #fireworks #flustered baron gives me life #fluffy fic #one shot #my writing

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ssaalexblake · 4 years ago

Note

for the meme: thasmin or book/burnham (is the ship name burnbook?)

(Okay this turned into a thasmin meta essay with Opinions so i only did Thasmin in the end lol)

thasmin: I want to give thasmin an award for making me interested in a companion/doctor ship because honestly All of the doctor’s companions deserve so much better than the doctor, but they’ve made thasmin so thematically interesting to think about that i actually kind of don’t care? An Achievement. It is Interesting. It’s a good interpersonal plot. I want to see how they’re going to go.

I was with the people in s11 who were like ‘wow okay Yaz is Really into her’ because they’ve been putting in Yaz’s Thing for 13 in as early as the spider episode, Yaz’s comments to Claire about ‘her person’ were of exactly No surprise from a narrative stand point, admittedly i was very surprised from the standpoint where they were explicitly comparing 13′s relationship with Yaz to an actual legit romantic and sexual relationship (i... don’t think the sexual part was a Thing here but i am reticent to describe byron’s behaviour as anything But merely sexual so it gets included) because... That’s a big thing? While i wasn’t shocked narratively, i Was kind of shocked from a real world perspective and the politics of the bbc that that bit made it to air.

(also though. BURN. 13 got compared to the ultimate fuckboy and it was justified)

Which is Nothing compared to how far my eyebrows got up my forhead @ Jack explicitly relating his feelings for the doctor to Yaz’s feelings for the Doctor. Jack is like... In Love With The Doctor. They put them in the same boat. That’s a lot.

As far as i’m concerned, it might not be a canon Relationship, but it’s at the very least a canon Ship at this point. Even if not requited. That is canon.

That said, had you asked me about 13′s feelings towards Yaz in the first half of season 12 i’d have very much said it was definitely unrequited, but then Praxeus happened. That look 13 gives Yaz as she asks to go off on her own to investigate that alien base sure as hell was something!

Those aren’t the best caps of this whole exchange, but this is the first and arguably Only time i’ve seen a sign that 13 may actually have some reciprocal feelings here. The only part doesn’t Really matter, imo, because 13 has been actively trying to Avoid becoming too attached to her companions, has had other more pressing matters to deal with and Really won’t want to deal with the idea of Yaz having feelings for her (think Ten Casually doing his very best to ignore Martha’s feelings for him, except 13 isn’t being a jerk about it). Her hiding her feelings apart from the odd slip up? Would very much be in character.

(also... they did that comparing of 13 to Byron who was kind of... Ignoring Claire’s feelings for him So I feel like i have some ground to stand on here when i say 13 is knowingly not acknowledging this all)

But here’s the thing, take that whole exchange above out of context of dw and shove it in a blockbuster and it’s the hero and the romantic lead separating knowing one of them is off to do something dangerous and wondering if they’ll ever see each other alive again. The whole scene was played out, and s/o to the pink/purple romantic lighting, like a love scene? I was Very intrigued by this. Especially with 13 proclaiming at the end of the episode with a kind of wistful smile that she’s a romantic.

But This was 13 Before the s12 finale, though. How will she interact with Yaz now? The doctor’s Not stupid, she knows Yaz has feelings for her. She’s evidently been content to ignore that (that’s not really even a Bad thing, to be honest, Yaz may not have hidden it well but she’s also never acknowledged it or in any way Asked the doctor if she does reciprocate... She may not Want to do anything about it and 13 following her lead isn’t bad)... But will 13 still be content with this as their relationship with where she is Now?

Her forced solitary confinement of an unstated number of years had quite obviously removed her weariness of physically embracing the people she loves and allowing them to also touch her, she was Gripping onto the guys in the special, but perhaps more importantly she was letting them in emotionally as well. She may not have filled Jack in on all the context, but she was actually very honest about her feelings and such with him, she had an emotionally open conversation with Ryan and conceded their close relationship, a parallel with how she rejected the very same thing in fugitive of the judoon.

(she didn’t have Much of a moment with Graham, but i kind of like it... Graham wasn’t ready to leave but did to stay with Ryan.. To him And the doctor this is almost unfinished business).

The point is, 13 may have lost her sense of identity and feels lost, but she’s also fundamentally kind of changed how she’s interacting with her companions. Now i Know there was consternation that Yaz and her got next to nothing in that episode, but it was pure logistics imo. They have all next season to go into their relationship, they had 75 minutes to wrap up hers with Ryan and Graham, no point wasting their dwindling time to focus on what can be addressed later.

So... If she follows her pattern... She’ll probably be more open with and To Yaz next season. In which case, we’ll now see 13 play Her hand on how she views the two of them. I’m interested.

I want to see 13 grab onto what she Knows in the face of her identity issues. She knows her relationship with Yaz.

That said, i feel like Yaz’s relationship with 13 Is all tied in with her low sense of self-esteem. She’s mimicking 13 because she thinks 13 is a good, useful and helpful person scoring Big Victories and she thinks that’s better than what she herself manages. From a storytelling standpoint, Yaz’s less favourable feelings towards 13 now, evolved from the kind of crushing hero worship of s11, was Very necessary to her as a person, and i’m Very convinced they will have at least one big fall out next season because, well, their personalities are just Like that but also Yaz needs to twig that the small victories matter. That people like her matter and are just as useful as The Doctor.

I personally would like maybe something along the lines of them having a huge explosive argument that Totally removes even the doctor’s Function off the pedestal it’s been put on by Yaz. I think yaz already took 13 off the pedestal as a person but she still views 13 running around saving the universe as a much Better version of helpful and good than anything a regular human Yaz can do. In the words of Rory Williams ‘the small victories matter’. Yaz has forgotten, this, or maybe never realised it to start with, but she needs to and 13 needs to be the vehicle for Yaz to realise that.

That said, 13 and Yaz have never had much luck with Touch. When 13 grabbed her hand in it takes you away, Yaz is so surprised you can see it in her face and body language. The only time Yaz reaches out for 13 she is physically shoved away. Their next touch is Yaz shoving 13. They are leading up to something here. What’s it going to be?

They should kiss, basically.

Yaz deserves to live out those gay ‘hot for teacher’ vibes. Let 13 snog Yaz’s socks off.

But if i have to choose between them kissing Or Yaz getting personal character development through the doctor being absolutely shoved off her pedestal? I’d pick the latter any day. But i want Both of those things and don’t feel it’s impossible because the Yaz self-esteem plot is inherently linked with the doctor idolization plot. Yaz is still too good for the doctor in every way, but Yaz deserves Some culmination for her feelings. We all know it can’t end well, she’s immortal and she’s not... But i’d like her to get some closure for her feelings for the Doctor before she leaves.

But also my most cutting edge thasmin insight is that 13 totally by accident gave Yaz a Massive praise kin/k.

Thank you for the ask!!!!

#meme thingy #dw shit #littleironi #this got loooooong #and i had to end it on a low note yes i Did #how long this is speaks to how interesting and deep this relationship is tbh #also i left stuff off

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merelliahallewell · 4 years ago

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An Order of Embers Roleplay Primer

Hello, friends. A while back I wrote a not-so-brief guide to Order of Embers roleplay that seemed to help a few people. MG’s Kul Tiras community has been growing lately and I’ve also founded a new guild and RP project set in Drustvar, and so I figured I would update this for clarity and ease of reading. In other words? I... am back on my bullshit.

This primer will be headcanon/fanon free, and only reference quest text or other information that can be found in-game in Drustvar. If headcanons are your thing, I’ll be releasing an in-character guide to Kul Tiras’s monsters and dark magic soon. I hope. It is the endless writing project.

Drustvar’s Woes

On Kul Tiras’ western side lies the mountainous region of Drustvar. It provides most of the island kingdom’s ore, some food, and some of their strongest warriors.

In recent times, a civil war raged across Kul Tiras. A secessionist, N’zoth-aligned faction run by Lord Stormsong in the north and an attempted coup led by Lady Ashvane in Boralus itself nearly toppled the Proudmoore Admiralty, but were stopped by brave souls. Drustvar was strangely absent from these conflicts, and many refugees spilled out into the rest of Kul Tiras telling frightening tales of “wooden demons” who had driven them from their homes.

Most of the land west of the mountains had fallen to a group of terrifying magic-users who enslaved the minds of all they came into contact with... if they didn’t kill them for sport or use them as reagent for foul and perverse rituals. The land east of the mountains was on the brink, as well. Corrupted wildlife roamed the woods freely and witches practiced their dark spellcraft freely, driving the remaining desperate souls into worship of the wickermen or into frenzied attempts to prosecute innocents for the crimes of the terrifying Heartsbane Coven. All of this happens before the player even arrives in Drustvar.

The Order of Embers

During the zone’s storyline, the player and Lucille Waycrest discover that the magic being used against the people of Drustvar is that of the ancient Drust, who were defeated thousands of years earlier by a group known as the Order of Embers. The Drust were a seafaring clan of Vrykul that eventually settled on Kul Tiras sometime after the Sundering. They developed druidic ways that brought them in tune with the land and even earned them the blessing of nature spirits, but those ways were perverted by a sorcerer-king who set the Drust upon the path of death and domination.

The old Order were comprised of those who took up arms against their far more powerful foes, exploiting weaknesses in Drust magic uncovered by scholars. The Waycrests were members of the ancient order, and it was Arom Waycrest himself who led the charge to defeat the Drust king Gorak Tul. In the cavern Gol Var, once a Drust stronghold, they recover an ancient tome known as the Tome of Silver and Ash, a treatise which contained all the old Order’s knowledge on combatting their magic.

In the town of Arom’s Stand, some of the Waycrest Guard’s finest remaining soldiers were recruited to become the reborn Order’s first Inquisitors. The newly-anointed inquisitors brought the fight to the Heartsbane from there.

The Order’s battles with the Heartsbane Coven play out over the latter half of the Drustvar questing experience and also the zone’s world quests. They add new members to their ranks, create new weapons for use against the Coven, and push back against them on all sides. Eventually, they storm Waycrest Manor, cutting off the head of the snake and defeating the Coven’s leadership. Gorak Tul was forced back into the death-realm of Thros, prevented from returning for the time being. (Tul was later killed in Thros during the Pride of Kul Tiras questline.)

It’s unclear how long it took to purge the Heartsbane from Drustvar- if the task was truly completed at all. Blizzard rarely addresses zone stories after the fact, which means the plot thread has been left hanging and was not addressed in any subsequent patches in BfA. The Order of Embers also assisted with the fight against the Horde during the Drustvar invasion.

It may be a reasonable inference that Drustvar is being repaired and de-cursed in the aftermath of the war, but that is not an easy task.

Who leads the Order of Embers? Does it have a hierarchy?

Lucille Waycrest- now the ruling Lady of Drustvar, and the last of her house, is in charge of the Order. All inquisitors are raised to their stations by the authority of House Waycrest. Other important figures are the remaining original inquisitors (Sterntide, Mace, Notley, and Yorrick), the quartermaster Alcorn, and Marshal Joan Cleardawn, a former inquisitor that was given new leadership over the Waycrest Guard.

The Order seems to lack much of a formal hierarchy- most of the named NPCs are simply titled with inquisitor, working together as a team rather than issuing commands to one another. They also seem to be adept at handling missions alone and on their own or with the aid of local allies.

Can I roleplay an inquisitor or other member of the Order of Embers? Is it lore-abiding to do so?

Sure! The Order didn’t stop at five inquisitors- a world quest boss for the Horde during the invasions has them facing off against a new Inquisitor named Erik. They also have a quartermaster and a cleric, which means there may be support staff involved that do not bear the big title but are still part of the group. The Order is probably not handing out inquisitor garb like candy, but there’s no reason to assume that a worthy and trusted individual wouldn’t be made an inquisitor.

However, it is worth mentioning that the Order of Embers might not be too trusting of those wielding or even infused with darker powers, given the devastation of their homeland by spellcasters wielding terrifying magic. That is just a guess on my part, but an educated one. Drustvar as a whole has a very low-magic culture.

Could a non-human join the order?

I don’t see why not, but there are no non-human methods ingame. I would never say that it is lore-breaking to roleplay a nonhuman as an Inquisitor, just that there’s no real in-game basis to make this judgement on either way. If you want to roleplay an inquisitor that’s not human and you think you have solid IC reasoning: go for it!

Obviously, the Order of Embers may be more hesitant to accept, say, a void-infused elf with tentacle hair or a worgen warlock as an inquisitor than a race they’re more familiar with such as a sturdy dwarf or genius gnome. Ability to serve House Waycrest and being of aid against the Heartsbane are likely strong factors in joining up- they may not make a person an inquisitor if they’re a night elf sorcerer that’s been in Kul Tiras for two weeks and hasn’t ever seen a witch in his life.

Initiation Ceremony

To become a member of the Order of Embers, the initiate undergoes a short ritual where they are presented with their garb.

Brothers and Sisters, today you become the searing fire that burns away the darkness.

Today you become the shining blade that cuts through the wicked.

Today you become the beacon of hope against the endless foe.

By the authority of House Waycrest, I name you inquisitors of the Order of Embers!

Clothing and Armor

Upon being appointed to their new stations, inquisitors are offered a set of garb inspired by drawings in the Tome of Silver and Ash of what the ancient inquisitors wore. This armor seems to be dark brown leather gear and also has a feathered cap involved- though only one of the inquisitors seems to have chosen to wear that accessory. The specific in-game set is the “Armor of the Dashing Scoundrel,” which comes from Antorus. It drops from the heroic difficulty of the raid. It should be noted you don’t need the whole set- each inquisitor wears different pieces of it and matches them with other clothing or armor pieces. The hat also has a chance to drop from the Commodore Calhoun rare in Vol’dun. Not sure if it would drop for non leather users, so be careful.

Don’t feel like you have to be a rogue to play an Inquisitor- going for tones of brown with some silver or grey mixed in will likely net you a pretty good-looking set. There are Kul Tiran questing and dungeon plate sets that look fantastic and are worn by Waycrest Guard/Marshal NPCs that would work great as an inquisitor’s battle armor.

The Order also has a tabard, which is worn by the quartermaster who sells it. While no inquisitors actually seem to wear it, it’s one of the better-looking tabards added that expansion and has a distinctive look. It matches well with just about any gear that has brown or tones of silver/grey.

If you’re looking for some transmog ideas, this is a link to the Order of Embers mogs on /r/transmogrification. There is a super sweet plate set OoE set on there that actually won Best Dressed of 2018 for that armor class.

If you’re looking for a great Order of Embers-type transmog, the Leather PvP set from Shadowlands’ first season really hits those vibes. It has a very witch hunter theme to it, is colored largely brown, and the belt has fucking potions and silver spikes on it for use on... enemies. I cannot understate how badass this set is. The best part? It is not class locked, meaning that this armor is available to anybody that can wear leather gear, if you toggle the vendor pane to show “all classes.” However, it does cost Conquest points (and a lot of them), so you may want to be picky with what you grab unless you don’t intend to gear through PVP this season. We don’t know if it will be available after the season ends, so you may want to pick that up soon if it’s your thing. Also, it’s just a nice-looking coat and we don’t have a lot of those in-game.

Weaponry

The inquisitors of the Order of Embers wield a number of different weapons, taken from their prior occupation as members of the Waycrest Guard. Everything from two-handed swords to crossbows are used by them- and that’s just primary weapons. Their armor features throwing knives as well. Inquisitor Mace even carries a trio of daggers sheathed at her belt- it seems they have no shortage of tools for dispatching foes with.

Players who have completed the zone’s Bleak Hills Mine quests also have a buff called Silvered Weapons. Silver can disrupt the magics of the Drust, and stun abberations, elementals, and undead in the zone. This is an inference, but it may be because all of those monster types in Drustvar are powered by this magic. The silver recovered from one of the region’s mines was used to begin producing weapons for the Order such as the silver-plated hand cannon Witchrend, which seems to shoot silver shrapnel to great effect against the Heartsbane.

It should be pointed out that silver is a shitty metal to make a weapon out of. It is not half as strong as steel or whatever else they make weapons out of in Azeroth. The original Order of Embers got around this fact by making weapons with a steel core and covering them with a layer of pure silver- you find one of their long-abandoned knives out in the world.

Other universes have done similar things with silver weapons- D&D has a ruling about silvered weapons, and The Witcher series has a whole class of silver swords created with special forging techniques. It may be wise to take a page from the latter universe, as Witchers face the same issue regarding silver’s weakness as a weapon. They get around that by carrying two swords- one for men, the other for monsters. I’m not telling you that you should roleplay a Witcher but I am saying that’s kind of half the reason we’re here, so it might be okay to borrow that idea since they face that very legitimate problem with a smart solution.

Storm Silver is a metal found abundantly in Kul Tiras, and is used for building ships, making armor light enough to swim in, and consecrating for various uses by Tidesages. It is likely not the same as pure silver, but we don’t have explicit confirmation either way.

Alchemical fire is also a potent weapon against witches and Drust alike, crafted by Master Ashton. The original text specifically says it was used to “burn away the Drust.” This concoction is tricky to make, requiring the reagents Heartbloom, Saltpeter, volatile sap, and Sulfur. The fire is carried in a reinforced flask that is made to withstand the test of time, able to hold the volatile components without igniting. Inquisitors use alchemical fire to pour over dangerous objects or to shift into more breakable containers for throwing. This is seen in the Gorak Tul fight, when alchemical fire is put into flasks which are shattered over the corpses of his minions to prevent them from rising again.

It isn’t addressed whether magical fire has the same effect as this alchemical concoction. A fire mage, destruction warlock, or priest wielding holy fire might be a neat character concept to bring to the table for an order that doesn’t have a lot of magic.

Rowan wood is also useful against Drust magic. However, it is not specified how exactly it is helpful. Rowan trees don’t grow in Kul Tiras, so an inquisitor seeking that wood would need to travel overseas for such a reagent. It could, however, be extremely helpful and far cheaper than making a silver weapon.

Non-inquisitor Roles

If you find the Order of Embers cool, but don’t think you like the idea of hunting witches all day, they have more than just inquisitors. The witch hunters rely on specialists to help them get the tools they need to beat back the Heartsbane, and even simply through the questing experience they gather new allies. The blacksmith Angus Ballaster and the alchemist Master Ashton both are essentials. As mentioned before, they are also joined by a cleric, Loriette. A skilled smith or alchemist could find work alongside the Order of Embers, perhaps helping to craft more weapons for them or concocting potions for use in the field.

Allies

The witch hunters are not the only ones out to defend their homes- they are joined by a plethora of others trying to protect the region. Whether you believe the Coven is still an active threat or not, these are still the most common friends an Inquisitor may find in the field.

Waycrest Guard - The Waycrest Guard are Drustvar’s chief protectors, but lost many of their members to the mind-enslaving curse of the Heartsbane. They work alongside the Order of Embers in the Drustvar quests. The original inquisitors are all drawn from the Waycrest Guard, so the Order has deep ties with them. It appears largely as if the Guard protect the settlements, and the inquisitors are the ones striking deep into enemy territory. They could be called to do heavier lifting when the Order alone cannot do the job.

Town Militia - With much of the Waycrest Guard falling under the control of the Coven, the towns of Drustvar were forced to look to their own defenses, such as in Falconhurst and Fletcher’s Hollow. Ordinary citizens have bravely taken up arms in defense of their homes, and the aid of a skilled inquisitor would likely be welcomed. Even with the witches defeated, it’s likely some militia still protect their towns.

Thornspeakers - The Thornspeakers are a faction of Drust and human druids that live out in Drustvar’s woods and mountains. They are led by Ulfar, the last living Drust and the leader of the faction that sided with the humans against their own kind. The Thornspeakers seem to congregate at Ulfar’s Den along the eastern side of the mountains, but watch over all of Drustvar and Tiragarde. They work hard to maintain the balance in nature, and have allies in the mysterious pair of stags that roam the forests...

Drustvar Rangers - Though they only appeared in a few brief quests supporting the Thornspeakers, Drustvar seems to have a number of woodsmen trying to do their part to protect their home. They do not seem to be magical or anything, just some normal folks

Notes, RP hooks, Excess Lore, etc

The Order of Embers is based out of Arom’s Stand in central Drustvar. The building Lucille occupies is possibly their headquarters. They also may use Gol Koval as a base of operations.

Onions seem to be anathema to the witches and their servants.

Witches have been observed to call upon Drust magic without the Coven’s assent- once by a rejected witch in Drustvar, and again in Tiragarde at the Algerson Yard. This could open up the possibility of inquisitors venturing outside Drustvar to battle new threats. Additionally, it seems as if there may be some witches left as of the Shadowlands quests that take you back to Drustvar, so the hunt may not be over.

The Drust themselves have invaded Ardenweald from Thros. Whether it’s Drust artifacts/contraband making their way into Azeroth of the Drust themselves trying a full-on invasion through the yawning portal into Thros that was left unresolved in BfA, there’s a ton of possible plot threads that can be picked up related to them. A journey into the afterlife wouldn’t even be out of the question, since common citizens make it to Oribos and there is talk of mortals being able to join covenants. The Night Fae would be in dire need of a bold soul bearing flame and silver to drive back their foes and protect the cycle of life and death.

The Holy Light may be used by some members of the Order of Embers. Inquisitor Erik uses holy spells for his attacks when engaged by Horde players, and Cleric Loriette casts a fiery blessing on players who have unlocked her, a spell type usually reserved for priests. She’s also a cleric which usually implies the Light in this universe. A Light-wielding inquisitor is not out of the question, it seems, especially since Drustvar seems to have some ties to the Light if you look into it.

Despite the possibility of Drustvari Light-wielding inquisitors, this is not the same situation as the Scarlet Crusade. The Order of Embers is not a holy or religious order. It owes allegiance to House Waycrest. Religious zealotry is not on their menu. Per the faction description, the Order of Embers fights with knowledge guiding their blades.

It’s unlikely the Order would be suspicious of magic-users such as druids or shamans, given that they share a continent with Thornspeakers, Tidesages, and even mages (even if those are offscreen). They would have to be a pretty poor inquisitor to confuse the magics of their allies with that of Drust magic, so don’t go inquisitioning random magic users.

This isn’t really anything to do with canon, but please don’t use the Order of Embers to live out really fringe stuff with purging ‘heretics’ or being racist at elves or what have you. The community has a history with seeing that sort of stuff in inquisitor characters and it is unlikely to earn you a super great reception if you choose to roleplay that.

Further Reading (Fanon and out-of-WoW information)

This blog post goes over some potential processes for silvering and what happens when these weapons are used on creatures averse to silver.

Matt Mercer has created an interesting Dungeons & Dragons class called the Blood Hunter (which used to be called Witch Hunter.) It provides some interesting ideas that could be brought into an inquisitor character, especially one that might be interested in wielding darker magics to counter evil powers. You can view the class on D&D Beyond, or read the old Witch Hunter PDF which is a prior draft.

I recently did a huge series of writeups on the Drust, the Order of Embers’ perennial foe. If you’re wanting something to face off against or just want to know your lore, you can give these a read!

The Drust Background - - The Drust in BfA - - The Drust in Ardenweald

Night Fae Campaign (1) - - Night Fae Campaign (2)

- - - - - -

I hope this post was helpful to anybody who’s feeling like trying out this sort of roleplay! It’s terribly long-winded but I wanted to do my best to cover all of the information out there. If you’d like to reach out to me about this topic or roleplay with an inquisitor, I play the character “Inquisitrix” mainly on both Moon Guard and sometimes “Merciella” on Wyrmrest Accord.

If you’re looking for Order of Embers-themed roleplay and you play on Moon Guard, the guild <Silver and Ash> might be what you’re looking for, as they roleplay a group of inquisitors! On Wyrmrest Accord, there is a small interguild community called the Hex Hunter’s Society that I believe may be active still. If you’re looking for other Kul Tiran-type roleplay or want to put an inquisitor in a different environment, there are a few other guilds out there that utilize Kul Tiras on both Wyrmrest and Moon Guard. Happy hunting!

#Drustvar #Order of Embers #Roleplay Guide #Lore Dump #Please come roleplay in Drustvar #Join Autumnhearth too #Kul Tiras #Drust #Heartsbane Coven

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drabbledragon · 4 years ago

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Linktober: Surprise

This post is very close to the day 4 deadline but honestly, I had a lot of fun creating and tampering with the plot! Be cautious, though, because there is quite a bit of violence in this one.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/65454667

Summary: A new friend is brought to camp, and it surprises a certain Ordonian

Warnings: Some violence

Day 4: Surprise

It was a surprisingly cold day out, Twilight mused, although that’s to be expected as the season goes further into fall. The cold, crisp air and colorful leaves reminded him of his home back in Ordon Village; if memory serves, he would be harvesting Ordonian pumpkins with Fado right now.

He sighed wistfully and tended to the campfire with a long stick. He wondered how everyone back home was doing. Beth, Talo, Malo, and certainly Colin missed him, and he was sure Fado was struggling to herd all the goats back into their house without his and Epona’s help. And of course there was his mentor, Rusl - well, one of his mentors, he supposed, now that he met Time - along with his wife, Uli, who were most likely busy taking care of their newborn child; it’s a shame that he was never able to meet their new baby, but if he knew anything about Rusl, he would excitedly tell Twilight all about his child from sunup to sundown.

And how could he forget Midna? Their meeting may have happened by chance but he felt that they were destined to meet. They had grown to be close friends during their travels across Hyrule - maybe even more than that - and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t think about her. He wondered what would happen if he managed to say what was on his mind before she disappeared into the Mirror of Twilight; if his thoughts and feelings would be enough to make her stay, or allow him to live in the Twilight Realm alongside her. He could only speculate at this point.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a tan snout poked at his shoulder.

“Wild, is that a bear?!” He shouted, and he looked up to see his protege sitting idly on the creature’s back, a goofy grin on his face.

“Yeah, isn’t it great? I was out looking for herbs when I found a bear following me around! He looked like he was hungry so I did a little bit of fishing for him -”

Which meant Wild had jumped into a river, Twilight frowned, again.

“- And then we became best friends! Like he watched me cook them by the fire and everything! Although he was starting to lose his patience towards the end.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if a bear watching him cook was just another daily occurrence. “ Anyways, did you know he’s a big fan of Hearty Salmon? I’m more of a Voltfin Trout guy myself but to each their own, y’know?”

Twilight was barely able to make it through the whole story without pinching the bridge of his nose, “ Wild, you can’t just bring a bear to camp. You know full - well that that thing likes to go through food and attack anything it sees moving.”

“But he won’t, I promise!” The smile from Wild’s face had now given way to a defensive look, “ He’s very polite and friendly and hasn’t done anything to hurt me at all! Plus you always let dogs and cats follow you around, and you don’t even care when Legend brings a whole flock of seagulls to camp!”

The Hero of Legend stopped whatever he was doing at the mention of his name and gave the two a pointed look, “ Hey, you two leave the seagulls out of this.” But he was paid no mind.

“That’s because cats, dogs, and seagulls aren’t actively trying to maul me to death!” The Ordonian’s voice dropped to a lower volume in order to prevent the others from overhearing. “ You know how many times I almost got killed by a bear? Eight, and five of those times were as a wolf. The last thing I need right now is to make that number nine, or to have anyone die thanks to some idiot bringing a bear into camp. Really, you’re like the only one here who’s constantly putting us in danger.”

Perhaps he went too far on that one. He watched all the fight leave his protege like a potion being drained of its contents, giving way to wide eyes and a pale complexion.

“Wait, Cub, I didn’t -”

But Wild didn’t want to hear it. With a gentle tug of the bear’s fur, the Hero of Wilds nudged his companion towards the forest and left, not a single hint of hesitance shown in his actions.

Twilight watched as the figure disappeared behind tall trees and overgrown bushes, and a large part of him just wanted to shift into his Twili form and run after their trail, but he paused instead.

Wait, why should Twilight go after him? Sure, he’s his mentor and all and he feels like he has a personal obligation to protect the kid but now that he thinks about it, hasn’t he been coddling him too much? Too many times has he taken to his Twili form to find a lost Wild that had wandered to the other half of a Hyrule just because he had a need for adventure, and too many times had he had to answer to Time for the crazy stunt his charge had decided to pull just for curiosity’s sake. Despite being 117 years old, Wild acted like a child - a feral child, at that - that would rather spend the whole day messing around in an open field rather than helping the people who needed him the most.

He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Seriously, how was Wild supposed to grow up and take responsibility for himself if Twilight was always there to bail him out? Maybe it’s about time for the Hero of Wilds to learn that he can’t just do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He’ll learn in due time, Twilight assured himself, and he’ll be back by tonight for sure.

With that being said, he turned his back and went to go tend to the fire.

Wild wasn’t back that night. Everything seemed well among the remaining heroes, though: Warriors and Legend were locked in their usual banter, Wind and Four were telling exaggerated stories about their adventures, and Sky, Time, and Hyrule were all idly sitting by, amused by everyone’s antics; the only real difference tonight was Twilight and Wild, where the latter was nowhere to be found and the former worried profusely about his charge’s absence.

Twilight restlessly tapped his foot against the ground and stared into what Hyrule would call dinner. Seriously, where was Wild? The Ordonian thought that he would be back in maybe two, three hours max but it had been ten hours, and there was still no sign of him. Had he gotten hurt? Was he attacked by a hoard of Darias or Gerus that Hyrule often warned them about? Had a Zora grabbed him by the ankle and drowned him in a river? Twilight knew that his protege was very friendly towards Zoras so it really wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

“Go.”

He looked up to Time and stuttered out, “ H - Huh?”

Without ever shifting his gaze from the fire, he quietly whispered to his protege, “You’re worried about the cub, aren’t you? So you should go and find him; I’ll cover for you in the meantime.”

He processed the words for a few seconds, and then nodded. The old man was right: no matter how irresponsible, thoughtless, and careless Wild could be at times, he was still his protege, and as his mentor, Twilight should be there with him every step of the way, ready to help him up when he couldn’t find his footing in a situation. He left the group without so much as a sound, and as soon as he was out of sight, transformed into his Twili form and left, fervently following the scent of the former champion’s trail.

It had been about ten minutes by the time Twilight had finally found Wild. He was located in a small clearing of trees with, oddly enough, his bear companion laying down next to him; there was a small campfire going with a makeshift pot held over it, and the wolf could easily smell the tantalizing taste of Salmon Risotto.

He shook his head: this wasn’t the time to be salivating over the smell of real food. With a gentle command to his Shadow Crystal, his form shifted to that of a Hylian’s.

“Cub, I -”

Go away, Wild signed, and as if to emphasize, the large bear beside him growled.

The Ordonian immediately took a two steps back and sighed. This was going to be hard: not only did he have to worry about his friend fleeing if he got too close, but he also had to worry about a bear potentially running up and attacking him, and he really didn’t feel like defending himself from a creature twice his size. He finally chose to settle himself on the ground instead, intent on making himself seem as small and non - threatening as possible.

“Listen, I didn’t mean anything I said back there, alright? We got stranded in Hyrule’s Hyrule, we’ve been travelling for days, infected monsters are always showing up and trying to kill us, and I guess I was thinking about what was going on back home, so I was just really stressed out this afternoon. When you brought a bear to camp, I guess that was the final straw and I just took out all my anger on you. I mean, yeah, you really shouldn’t bring a bear of all things to a camp but that thing about you always putting us into trouble was completely wrong. If anything, we put ourselves into trouble, and it has nothing to do with you being here.”

He watched anxiously as his protege stirred the pot, never daring to meet Twilight’s own concerned gaze. He could see the bear beside Wild carefully watching him, paws resting readily on the ground as if it was anticipating for the Hero of Twilight’s one bad slip - up. After what seemed like centuries, the former champion finally let go of his ladle and brought his hands up to sign again,

You’re wrong, and that made Twilight lean forward, my whole life’s been nothing but bringing trouble to everyone. Back when my Hyrule wasn’t destroyed, everything I ever did just made things worse: I followed Zelda around, and she hated me; I protected people from danger, and now the Yiga are trying to kill me; I did everything I possibly could to prevent Zelda from dying, and I literally ended up dying right in the middle of Fort Hateno, and I was lucky that Impa was willing to put me in the Shrine of Resurrection. Now I’m here with eight different Links from eight different timelines and it looks like everywhere I go, trouble always follows. Just two weeks ago I led a bunch of Bokoblins to us because I took a couple of their weapons, and then five days ago I dyed Warriors’s hair green because I tossed him a green potion and it hit a branch and spilled all over him.

“Well that could happen to anyone,” Twilight interrupted, “ Those bottles are fragile so one small hit and they’ll shatter.”

Fine, but what about everything else? The Yiga, my Zelda, my Hyrule - everything’s a mess because I can’t get my life together; I can’t even remember what my life was like in the first place!

“That’s different! The part about your Hyrule being destroyed is all Ganon’s fault, not yours!”

Then why couldn’t I live up to be a true Hero of Courage like the rest of you? Why couldn’t I just stop this whole thing from happening in the first place?

Twilight was growing frustrated. Where was Wild getting the notion that he could’ve prevented an immortal evil demon from corrupting his Guardians? He was just a 17 year old kid back then, for Hylia’s sake!

He opened his mouth to respond back, retort at the ready, when a sudden axe whizzed by and lodged itself into the tree behind him. His surprised gaze quickly met Wild’s for a brief moment before he abruptly stood up, Ordonian sword at the ready. Just a few seconds later, a horde of snarling enemies pushed their way from the forest and surrounded the heroes from all sides.

The Hero of Twilight knitted his brows as he slowly stepped back toward the center of the clearing, “ Darias? But I thought Hyrule said they only show up around Death Mountain!”

“Infected.” Was all Wild whispered back, but Twilight completely understood. It had become a common occurrence by now to see monsters that they were sure only showed up in one place and one timeline now showing up all over different eras; and as if some of them having to fight monsters that they never encountered before wasn’t enough, the enemies’ blood seemed to make them stronger, allowing them to have the upperhand on any poor passerby they could fight.

And it looks like Twilight and Wild were a couple of those poor passersby.

The Hero of Twilight swiftly leaned his head away as one of the Darias swung its axe and in the same breath, the former pierced its chest and forced his sword up, causing the enemy to crumple to the ground in defeat. He rose his sword out of the corpse and grimaced: black blood, these are infected.

He perked up when he heard the dull thuds of feet running towards him and ducked just in time to avoid a monster from either side going to swing at him with their respective axes. He winced when the sound of two heads clunking filled the quiet night air and hastily got back onto his feet to slash at the two Darias writhing on the ground.

He felt light on his feet as he continued to attack the oncoming enemies. Some came to attack him on their own while others stayed stubbornly in pairs, but the process was all the same regardless: step, lean, duck, sidestep, block, spin, and end his foe with a well - practiced stab. If there were two coming at him, he just needed to be quicker, and that was no problem for a hero who was used to facing five Shadow Beasts at a time.

Every now and then he would catch a quick glimpse of his protege fighting just a few steps beside him, and just like always, every attack was graceful and cleverly calculated. The Ordonian grinned: Wild may act like a child at times, but he took his fighting seriously, and it showed through his undeterred concentration. No enemy should have ever made the mistake of crossing paths with the Champion of Hyrule.

The last enemy fell down in a graceless heap, and Twilight wasted no time in ending its life with an Ending Blow. There was something poetic about it, he mused as he sheathed his sword, ending a battle with an attack that his predecessor had taught him long ago.

He took an eager step forward towards his protege, congratulatory praises at the ready, when a scaled hand reached from behind and dug into his shoulder.

“Twilight!”

Wild’s shocked shriek rang through the air and Twilight had to do everything in his power to make sure that his pained yelp didn’t join it. His other hand scrambled to grab at the Daria’s wrist and when he did, he used every bit of energy he had left to force it back. The threat of an axe raised just above his head made adrenaline rush through his veins, and he became acutely aware of the blood running down his shoulder and soaking into his tunic; but he couldn’t pay any mind to it, because he needed to focus on biding time for a panicked Wild so he could swipe through his Sheikah Slate and find the weapon he needed.

But he didn’t need to wait for that because in a blink of an eye, a rush of brown fur dug its fangs into the enemy’s side and pushed its body aside, freeing the Hero of Twilight from the Daria’s grip. He watched the brown mass - which he now noticed was Wild’s bear companion - tear at the infected foe with sharp white claws and no mercy. The animal finally stepped back when the creature had been torn to shreds, and took a few seconds to make sure it was dead.

Twilight’s breath hitched when the bear started to pad towards him. He wouldn’t necessarily say that he had a fear of bears per se, but the sight of the very same creature that liked to use him for hunting practice was walking towards him did tend to make him feel a little bit unnerved.

However, to his complete and utter surprise, instead of the animal coming over to attack him, it instead gently nudged at his side and whined.

He froze. Was this bear trying to comfort him?

And with that very same suspicion in mind, the Hero of Twilight reached his free hand forward and tentatively placed it on the creature’s head, ruffling the fur in the same way the other Links did when he was a wolf.

“You saved me back there,” He smiled sincerely, “ Thank you.”

The creature yawned back in response.

He startled when he felt a gentle hand touch his good shoulder, and turned just in time to see the Hero of Wilds offering him a red potion.

“For your shoulder,” He urged, and when he saw his mentor ready to protest, he added in a quick, “ Don’t worry, I got 25 more in my bag.”

Twilight drank it greedily, and felt its healing effects immediately. He could dimly feel the gentle knitting of skin beneath his tunic, and when he looked at the injury, he found that there was nothing left but a few white scars; but even those would fade in a day or so.

He looked to see the former champion staring at the ground with his curtain of hair hiding his eyes, “ Jeeze, that was stupid of me. I should’ve kept an extra set of arrows at the ready; I could’ve helped you the second that Daria got you.”

“You did help me, well -” The Ordonian patted the bear standing quietly beside him. “ - your bear helped me, but you know what I mean. Sure, the thing saved me and all but if it wasn’t for you taming him in the first place, I wouldn’t have a ten foot tall animal here to save me. So really, because of you, I avoided getting an axe to the head.”

The Hero of Wilds beamed at him and for some reason, his small smile reminded him of Colin’s back home.

Ah, he wondered how Ordon Village was doing back home; how much Colin, Beth, Talo, and Malo grew up while he was away, and how Rusl and Uli were doing with their newborn, and how Mayor Bo and Ilia were running and keeping the town safe, and how Fado was doing with preparing the ranch for the winter; and how could he forget Midna? The leader of the Twili, the one who was always there to guide him on his adventure, the one he had grown to love. He missed them all dearly, but he knew he wasn’t alone.

Twilight ruffled a hand through his protege’s hair, “ Y’know, as much trouble as you are, I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Because when Wild laughed, he was reminded that the Hero of Wilds was his family, too, and he would do anything to protect the ones he loved.

#linkeduniverse #hero of twilight #hero of wilds #fanfic #linktober2020

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loreweaver-universe · 4 years ago

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And that’s the episode.

Ooooh. That’s an interesting twist. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that there would be people intentionally driving their number up to stay on the train longer. Fair enough, I guess! If you think it’s better than your life back home, go for it. But. But, but, but...she’s dragging other people into it, encouraging them to drive up their number, and being a shithead to the denizens. She’s not Amelia by any means, obviously, but she’s going to be an interesting villain in her own right.

But she’s going to be a complex one, for sure. She seems like she’s not going to take no for an answer from Jesse, and may actually manage to drive up his number a little. Hopefully the lessons he’s learned about being a bully stick with him.

This is going to be interesting.

The Lucky Cat Car was REALLY fun, and has introduced an interesting new villain besides. It comes in at my new #1 for season 2, above The Black Market Car, and my new #5 overall, between The Ball Pit Car and The Cat’s Car.

Up next is going to be episode 17 of Infinity Train! We’re in the latter half of the season, now, and it...ooooh. Just had a realization. Grace has a mirror, we focused on that, and I think she’s going to sic Mace and Sieve on MT. Anyways, we’re in the latter half of the season, and I expect things to heat up continuously from here. I’ll be doing episode 17 on Monday, so look forward to that!

Streamwise, I just finished The Liar Princess and the Blind Prince, a sad and sweet little game that I rather enjoyed. You can view the playlist of that game by clicking here. I’m not sure what the upcoming schedule of games is going to be--I want to do Borderlands: the Pre-Sequel, and I want to do Alien Isolation, and I want to do Devil May Cry 5, and then I want to do a longer game like Breath of the Wild or the last campaign of Fire Emblem Three Houses, but I’m not sure in what order I’m going to do them. Stay tuned for the announcements there.

Thank you all for tuning in! I’ll see you next time!

IN OTHER NEWS:

I recently completed my blind playthrough of Astral Chain! You can see the full playlist of those streams by clicking here!

I recently completed my playthrough of Final Fantasy VII Remake! You can see the full playlist of those streams by clicking here!

I recently completed my playthrough of the second story campaign in Fire Emblem: Three Houses! You can view all the streams of the Golden Deer and Black Eagles routes I have done by clicking here!

If you’d like to help me pay my rent, buy me some food, or help with my bills and medicine, please use my direct donation link! If you’d like to support me per liveblog completed every month, please pledge to my Patreon! Becoming a patron not only allows you to vote on what shows I do whenever I choose a new one, but also grants access to the community Minecraft server to $5 patrons or higher!

You should also go pledge to Gio’s Patreon–our Discord server maintenance tech, creator of Rubybot, and community Minecraft server overlord deserves far more than I can afford to pledge to him by myself.

If you’d like more of me and my content:

My Episode Lists master page, where you can find every show and liveblog I’ve done!

My Discord server, where you can come hang out with me and other fans, check out member liveblogs, and join community gaming guilds!

My Twitch channel, where I stream variety games every so often!

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My Twitter, where I make announcements about liveblogs and streams!

It’s your kindness and support that lets me do this stuff, and I wouldn’t be where I am without all of you to do it for. Thank you all so much for your support, and for tuning in every episode!

OTHER PEOPLE YOU MAY ENJOY:

I may have been one of the earlier Steven Universe liveblogs, but a whole community of livebloggers has sprung up over the last five years! I linked to a bunch individually for a few wrap-ups, but honestly, this end-slate is already eight billion miles long, so I’m just gonna link to my links page. Click here if you want recommendations of other livebloggers, or other neat people, or webcomics and podcasts that I recommend.

#infinity train #infinibloggin #bloggin #infinity train episode 16 #inf18 #episode wrap up

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bestworstcase · 5 years ago

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on the whole i quite liked season three, and it has some of my favorite individual episodes in the entire series, but now that rta is finished and i’ve had some time to mull it over i think my final opinion is that s3 the weakest of the show’s three seasons, not because of the widely-disliked gothel twist and handling thereof or cassandra’s... polarizing villain arc, but because of a single structural problem that hamstrung the whole season. to wit:

rapunzel is not the protagonist.

the word is not synonymous with “hero,” though it is often incorrectly used that way. rather, the protagonist is the central character in a narrative; the person around whom the plot revolves and the one whose goals push the plot forward. for the first two seasons of the show, rapunzel is the protagonist. her goals, her choices, and her mistakes drive the plot.

but in the third season, the protagonist is cassandra.

(“but wait,” you may be thinking, “cassandra is the villain of season three.” yes. she is also the protagonist. both can be true.)

further discussion under the cut for reasons of length!

to illustrate this point, i slapped the plot of season three down on my preferred variation of freytag’s pyramid [link instead of inline because it’s big and tumblr will render it illegible]. blue boxes are for the plot points, yellow boxes cover the broad strokes of what rapunzel is doing in corona.

here’s a transcript of the blue boxes:

Exposition: Cassandra reveals what happened to her behind the door and sings Crossing the Line, expressing her resentment and dissatisfaction with her position as Rapunzel’s servant and declaring her intention to leave to fulfill her own destiny.

Inciting Incident: Cassandra steals the moonstone and abandons Team Corona.

Rising Action: Zhan Tiri approaches Cassandra with the promise that she can help Cass master the power of the moonstone, working to slowly gain Cassandra’s trust while fueling the rage and hurt Cass feels over her life as a servant in Corona and the abandonment by her mother in favor of Rapunzel. After Rapunzel appears to effortlessly neutralize Cassandra’s first breakthrough in controlling the rocks during Be Very Afraid, Cassandra wholeheartedly accepts Zhan Tiri’s friendship and assessment of the situation and the two of them travel back to Corona to take the fight to Rapunzel.

Crisis: Cassandra attacks Rapunzel, but suffers a crushing defeat when Rapunzel unlocks the full power of the Sundrop. She barely survives, and the battle frees Zhan Tiri from her prison. Cassandra seeks to strengthen her position for the coming war by drawing powerful allies to her side using the Mind Trap.

Complication: After discovering Zhan Tiri’s true identity, Cassandra suffers a crisis of conscience and attempts to make amends with Rapunzel. But after being shot while attempting to surrender, she embraces her role as the “bad guy” and angrily takes over Corona. Now completely alone, she plots to steal the sundrop from Rapunzel during the eclipse and imprisons Zhan Tiri to stop her from interfering.

Climax: During the eclipse, Cassandra battles Rapunzel to a standstill and prepares to steal the sundrop for herself. However, Zhan Tiri attacks her before she can take the sundrop and claims both it and the moonstone for herself, leaving Rapunzel and Cassandra both powerless and trapped while she goes to destroy Corona.

Falling Action: Now devastated and completely broken, Cassandra apologizes to Rapunzel for all her wrongs and is inspired to do better when Rapunzel shows how deeply she values Cass—not simply as a useful servant, but as a person. Cassandra willingly hands over the last fragment of the moonstone so that Rapunzel can use it to free them from Zhan Tiri’s cage, and the two of them work together to take Zhan Tiri down.

Denouement: With Zhan Tiri destroyed and her conflict with Rapunzel resolved, Cassandra leaves Corona to pursue her own adventures.

and here’s a transcript of the yellow boxes:

Inciting Incident: Rapunzel and the rest of Team Corona return to Corona and boot out the Separatists.

Rising Action: Team Corona works on rebuilding and cleaning up Corona. Rapunzel grieves for her broken friendship with Cass. The fear rocks are the only plot relevant incident; the rest is all episodic character-building fluff.

Crisis: Rapunzel throws Eugene a surprise birthday party and plans to propose, but Cassandra’s attack interrupts before she has the chance.

Complication: Team Corona waits for Cassandra to attack while making some token preparations like the Rooster, which ultimately proves pointless, and Project Obsidian.

Climax/Falling Action: Team Corona tries to take the kingdom back. Rapunzel tries one last time to get through to Cass, and this time, it works.

Denouement: Rapunzel settles happily into her role as a princess / future queen.

in short, the plot of season three is put into motion when cassandra steals the moonstone, and it is driven forward by her desperation for a destiny of her own, a life outside of rapunzel’s shadow, and a reprieve from the lifelong pain of abandonment. all the conflict is generated when zhan tiri manipulatively hijacks cassandra’s pursuit of her goals in order to further her own ends instead. cassandra is our protagonist, zhan tiri is her antagonist, and rapunzel is narratively inconsequential. rapunzel spends the entirety of season three either doing side quests or treading water in the waves cass creates.

rapunzel’s story, the story of which she is the protagonist, doesn’t resume until cassandra surrenders the shard of the moonstone to rapunzel and allows her to unite the drops and fulfill her destiny at last.

this is a fascinating narrative choice and on one level i think it was the correct one. cassandra takes the moonstone because she is tired of being forever cast aside and overlooked; she wants importance, she wants personal agency, and she wants her choices to matter. in effect, cassandra wants to be the protagonist. and that is exactly what she gets; making her the protagonist of the story of season three is in and of itself a neat, effective storytelling choice.

what makes this a weakness is that cassandra is offscreen for a lot of s3.

she has her big reveal and her song in rapunzel’s return, a handful of stingers leading up to be very afraid, a plot important role as the villain of be very afraid, a flashback and another stinger in islands apart, and strong appearances in cassandra’s revenge, race to the spire, tale of two sisters, once a handmaiden, and plus est en vous.

and that is not an insignificant amount of screen time, especially in the latter half of the season! but the thing is, the protagonist of a story... carries the story with them. some plot points will certainly happen without their presence or awareness, due to the actions of the antagonist or of the supporting cast, but the meat of the plot is always going to be wherever the protagonist is. so when a protagonist is offscreen, the plot is offscreen too.

and this is exactly what happened with season three! the narrative maintains its focus on rapunzel, and the story is told largely through her perspective. it dwells at great (and often confusing and contradictory) length on rapunzel’s feelings about what cass is doing, and meanders from one character-building side-quest to the next. the stakes never get very high—unless cassandra is there. rapunzel never does anything particularly important to the plot—unless she’s interacting with cassandra.

return of the king, big bad wolf, lost treasure, no time like the past, beginnings, king and queen of hearts, day of the animals, pascal’s dragon, flynnposter—none of these episodes have any bearing whatsoever on the overarching plot of the season. and what do they all have in common? they’re disconnected from what cassandra is doing. they are the there’s something about hookfoots of season three.

[which is not to say that they are Bad Episodes. the character writing in all of these episodes ranges from good to impeccable, and unlike tsah most of them are important to the overall plot of the show as a whole in the sense that they further the character development of rapunzel and eugene.]

thus, the plot is taking place offscreen, and we are left watching a supporting cast whose actions have only a small relevance to the plot. the stakes in corona feel bizarrely low throughout much of the season, and the reactions by team corona when the stakes finally escalate feels disjointed and lackadaisical. compare the crisis response in secret of the sundrop to the crisis responses in cassandra’s revenge, or race to the spire, or even plus est en vous and you’ll see what i mean.

and that, at the heart of it, is the problem with s3: it’s the story of a slow-burn power struggle between cassandra and zhan tiri, told almost exclusively through the eyes of a supporting cast that spends the first half of the story clueless and the second half scrambling to avoid the shrapnel and mitigate the damage of the aftershocks. opportunities to more clearly tie team corona’s actions to the plot (e.g., by framing the story as a mystery wherein cassandra’s plan is the Mystery and rapunzel is the Detective) existed but were not taken, and the end result is that season three lacks cohesion and narrative tension is largely nonexistent.

#rta #tts #rapunzel's tangled adventure #not tagging this as negativity bc #while it is discussing weaknesses of the text #its still just regular analysis.

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alliesweetsong · 5 years ago

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Starlight & Steel Pt. I

(Below starts a series of personal time skips for both Allie and for my wonderful roleplay partner this will be a multiple part story spanning into the new year, hope you all enjoy)

The morning had already began in earnest as Allie stirs and gently stretches. It had been this way for months following her retirement from the organization known as Ardent Circle and though it took some adjusting, the transition to her new role of preparing the house and herself for the upcoming changes she had already been experiencing had for the most part, helped her through. Life for the ranger had been dull the last several months compared to multiple combat deployments she had seen. Trading weapons as security for the latest products on Azeroth for ‘baby proofing’ the apartment, all she had really done was sleep, spend time with Finian and get fussed over nearly continuously by Endrickson nearly on a daily basis

She didn’t expect anything less today. Yawning gently she slowly sits up with a gentle grunt looking around for her lover but is only met with the smiling friendly disposition of Endrickson with a book in his lap.

“Morning Starlight!” Endrickson says in a soft voice clearly doing his best to be aware of her hearing

“Your love left for the market, to pick up a few things and told me to watch over you. As if I don't already do so, but at least it gives us time to check you and the baby!" the flamboyant priest finishes while placing a ribbon in between the pages and rising to adjust his robes.

The half-conscious elf smiles at his enthusiasm all while letting the new nickname swirl in her mind and idly moving her unruly morning hair behind her ears. She quite liked the sound of that though she didn’t express it to the medic.

"I do hope he brings home breakfast, I'm hungry" she continues with a small chuckle "I feel fine,” Allie replies as if to reduce the certain worry he typically had.

"That I did! I kept it in the oven so it wouldn't grow cold. I wasn't quiet sure when you would be up, but we'll get that in you before I run what examinations need to be done."

He sets the book down onto the table while walking over to said oven. The door creaking in protest at first until he retrieve her meal. A breakfast platter of pancakes still hot to the touch, a small pitcher of syrup beside them. A smaller plate filled with proteins of ham, sausage links and eggs soon accompanied by salt and pepper shakers for her to season.

"Now from records shown, morning sickness generally recedes after the first trimester. However.. there haven't been that many elven births documented so it may differ." He sets the platter across her lap while looking at the growing bump. "That would put you at.."

How long had it been? the days following turning in her resignation letter, the weeks had blurred into weeks, with the same routine mixed with breaks in the day to day to walk around Boralus and venture into Stormwind for her weekly treat of the roast beef sandwich that she enjoyed so much. Even getting rehired by Eilithe at the tea shop seemed like forever ago. As she mentally mulled over how to respond calculating how long it had been since that night quickly evaporated into shock at the veritable smorgasbord Endrickson had supplied her to feast on.

As she adjusted her posture to sit up her ears twitch happily as a smile spreads over her face.

“Um five months, I believe,” she replies in a warm manner.

The priest nods while trying to hide his excitement, but it was clear to the eye that wouldn't last for too much longer.

"Yes! Approximately five to six months along. And given the shape of your belly now, I would say halfway to the latter." He crawls onto the bed to sit at her feet. If Worgen had tails, it would be wagging as he sat there perked up.

"I still can't believe Finian is actually going to be a father! He had mentioned at one point he would have wanted a family, but wasn't sure if it would happen. But look at it all now!" He held his hands out as if presenting Allie to the world. "I wish I was able to have a baby, surely Thomas and I would make a cherub of a child," he sighs wistfully.

"I am sure you both would make wonderful parents, but I know you'll make for wonderful...erm, uncles?" Allie replies as if making sure she had the right human word

"Maybe we could adopt?" he asks himself while lowering his chin to his chest. The man knew well enough that no man could actually become pregnant, but one could wish. His thoughts were all over the place until hearing the mention of being an uncle to which he snaps his attention back to Allie. His eyes lighting up as if she had given him an early Winter's Veil gift.

"Really?" he nearly squeaks while clasping his hands together.

The elven woman chuckles as she starts seasoning her breakfast to taste while nodding.

"If you think once our child is born I would just...whisk Finian away from men he has fought alongside with your wrong." She replies. "We are all part of a family now."

Though Finian had spoke of them all being a family, it still struck him and nearly brought him to tears at the thought. He had to keep some form of composure as he sat there.

"I know for one thing, you and the baby will be protected by all of us. Even Simmons. I think once he sees the baby it may actually bring him around to seeing he could have something like that. Though I am curious, do you think Finian will ask you to marry him too?"

Allie gently smiles as she begins chewing her food while her cyan blue eyes glow, not just how they usually do but in happiness as well, Marriage was certainly on her mind, but she wasn’t about to tell the medic that, things tended to spread like wildfire in the squad

"Shadows, Simmons with a child is a scary thought," she replies with a good-natured laugh.

"But I wouldn't have it any other way to know the four of you would sooner die, not that I want that to happen, then see something happen to myself or the baby," she replies softly.

"Starlight is a wonderful nickname, I think I will use that from now on."

"By all means, I think it's fitting in your case," Endrickson replies warmly

"You never know, it could spark a want for him to settle down instead of being on the corner of a bar all night. I think he has it in him if he can find a girl that can stand his stubborn ass," he rolls his eyes before shaking his head. "If he hasn't knocked up half of Boralus already.."

Allie blows on another bite of pancakes before shrugging. "I suppose you're right. Simmons is a good man..."

she starts before mockingly gagging at his final comment "Can you imagine if he has!?" she replies in a slightly louder voice before giggling.

"Could start his own nation with the amount of....fun he's had since the war ended," she replies with a gentle shake of her head.

"Oh? is it? what makes you say that?"

"I even wager he could repopulate all of Gilneas and that was even before the war ended. I tried to get his attention, but he wanted none of this," he gestured to himself before pouting.

"I would say so! It's hard to miss, between the eyes and your hair you're almost the embodiment of a dusk. I'm actually envious of you!"

"Ya' ever think it's because 'e's not int' men, Damien?"

Finian had managed to sneak in through the door just in time for his statement. Unheard by the chatty Elf and Medic. Bags were cradled in his arms as he makes his way toward the kitchen to set them on the counter. Reaching into a satchel, he retrieves a tome to set aside for the moment.

Allie had begun to blush as Endrickson commented on her hair and eyes. Though she didn't openly admit it she hated what the void had done to her once golden blonde hair something that. Snapping her gaze to meet Finian's she started to set the breakfast to the side to help the Gilnean. "Good Morning love," she replies before motioning to Endrickson.

"We were just making jokes about Simmons and his...propensity to bed every woman he finds," she replies chuckling shuffling to put her feet on the floor.

"Ya' not wron' with that. The man 'as been that way since breakin' 'im out of the brig after comin' t' Stormwind. Thinkin' 'e 'as a thin' fer wantin' t' get wot 'e can before gettin' locked up again. Though seein' 'e's under m'ranks I don't see 'im gettin' in t' deep."

He makes his way over to Allie to kiss her forehead before brushing a stray lock from her features. A soft smile setting on his lips as he held a loving gaze up her.

"Anythin' t' report?" he asks looking to Endrickson.

"Well, you returned before I could get an examination of her. So seeing you are here now, I could do that once she is done eating."

The elf places a hand on Finian's chest in a loving manner before chuckling as he kisses her forehead.

"Well at least he can cause less trouble now," she replies still teasingly before inhaling and slipping back under the covers and replacing the tray to continue eating.

"You're not going to poke and prod today are you?" she asks in a half protesting manner of Endrickson.

"I hate when you poke and prod."

"You are lucky I didn't bring my instruments today for that. Though this would more so to make sure everything for the baby is working appropriately. Heartbeat and so on.. If I had the technology of a gnome I would say we could see what your baby would be. Then you could start planning for a nursery, clothes, names," Endrickson states while he gently rolls his wrist as if he could go on.

Finian soon sits beside Allie before stealing one of the sausage links to eat for himself. He would have to make something later once everything was said and done for her.

" 'ave t' admit, I'm not t' keen o' ya' shovin' anythin' up there t' begin with.

" "It's for medical purposes!! I wouldn't want to have any of me up inside her to begin. That's for you to do when no one else is around. Granted, that doesn't stop us from hearing it, but I digress!"

Allie couldn't help but blush at the current exchange between the two knowing full well what was being inferred. Sometimes the exchanges between the four were so over the top it was difficult for her not to laugh at the immaturity. She wasn't a fan of it herself but she knew where the priest's intentions were. Clearing her throat she pours more syrup on her pancakes and looks between the two.

"Sweetie, I'm sure you know Endrickson well enough to know he doesn't take joy in that," she replies in a soothing manner before turning to Endrickson. "

Is that possible? to uh, find out what the baby will be?" she asks in a hopeful manner "Unless Finian wants it to be a surprise."

Even Finian was curious about if the priest was able to do so. Though there was a small tinge of concern that plagued him as to how they would even find out in the first place.

"Nah, who would we be surprisin' aside from ourselves, love? At least then we can figure out wotever name we want from them."

"There is a way, somewhat invasive with the use of shadows. However, aside from picking up on the life force of the child, I believe I could get an image of it at the very least. It won't put either of you in harm's way, I can assure you of that."

Alllie looks to Finian in a 'what do you think' manner. Even as a void elf, she seemed a bit hesitant at the thought of shadow magic being used and the skeptical look she had adorned would tell as much.

"Well, I don't want to put the baby in anything harmful," she starts to reply before gently shrugging while keeping her gaze locked on Finian's for a moment.

"As long as Finian doesn't mind,, and you promise nothing bad will happen...I wouldn't mind finding out." she finally states before starting to chuckle

"I vote Finian Jr. if its a boy." she blurts before taking a quick bite of pancakes to hid the giggle burrowing its way forth. The slight tint to her cheeks gave away her tease.

At first, Finian wasn't all that sure about having magic used on their unborn child. Granted he did know that whether he liked it or not, the child would have a touch of void thanks to Allie. The man was no stranger to magic, even with this time off he had been considering in reaching into his dormant druidic abilities. An arm soon wraps around Allie as he looks to Endrickson.

"Aye mate, I trust ya' enough with 'er. Ya' and the rest of the crew are the only ones I do at this point. As much as I give ya' shit."

Though hearing his lover jest about the name, he did purse his lips at the thought with squinting at her.

"Whenever Allie is done, we can proceed then. Wouldn't want her to lose any sustenance at this stage."

Allie gently chuckles as she shuffles the tray back onto her lap and begins to eat the remainder of the pancakes both amused at her lover squinting at her at the quip she had made. Seemingly eating faster now, she clearly was hungry or she was enthusiastic for these examinations Endrickson kept alluding too. Making no mention as to either, the now-retired ranger devours the remainder of her pancakes before setting the tray aside and holding up the sausage links for Finian to take.

"So, Endrickson, if you're not poking me and prodding, what is the plan today?" she asks

"Here, Hunny, please eat."

"I see the motherly instinct is kickin' in already," the knight teased while taking the plate from her.

He wouldn't refuse them either seeing he hadn't eaten at all since leaving the apartment. Had Endrickson not made something for Allie, he would have done so for the both of them.

"Well I was thinking about pestering Thomas for a bit to see what we could do. I think he mentioned just taking a walk through the city to take everything in. We haven't exactly left the harbor or Uptown too much. I think only Finian and Simmons have done that much."

It was the Ren'dorei's turn to shoot a playful wink at the Knight while smirking and throwing the comforter off herself to slide out of bed to stretch and get her day going.

"A walk does sound nice, but I meant these examinations after I was done eating," she replies to Endrickson before squeaking and relaxing her posture. Even pregnant and showing the elven woman remained in fairly decent physical condition. She wouldn't win any marathons but her wartime workouts would still be very apparent.

"Perhaps after Endrickson is done we could join them love? unless you had other things planned for us today? I think some fresh air would be nice."

"Aye, I 'ave somethin' else in mind fer us t' do today. Let the loverboys 'ave their time alone. Besides, I think I remember Thomas sayin' somethin' about needin' t' shop fer wotever reason. Sounds right up ya' alley, right Damien?" He smirks toward the priest for a moment.

A wordless exchange between the two left the feminine one giggling for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Quite right. So that being said, we should get this examination underway."

He waits for Allie to finish her tray of food before taking it over to the sink to be washed before he left. Once she had made herself comfortable again, he would begin rolling his shoulder back and close his eyes. Upon opening them, the pale hues would have a more violet hue to them as he waits at the bedside. "Whenever you two are ready."

"Ohhh that sounds exciting," she replies to Finian while relaxing her posture.

"I suppose there will be plenty of time in the future for us to have a walk with them." she finishes before lifting an eyebrow at the wordless exchange between the two while her ears twitch trying, unsuccessfully to clearly listen in to whatever inside conversation the two were not having with each other.

Inhaling and glancing side-eyed at Finian in a 'what was that about' manner she quickly snaps back to Endrickson and nods three times before taking a seat at the foot of the bed and placing her hands in her lap preparing herself for whatever the examinations would entail.

"I am ready," she replies warmly

Finian wouldn't budge in revealing what he and Endrickson had known about, but it would could to pass eventually. For the moment, he makes his way beside Allie to give her and Endrickson room to work. As the priest approaches, his fingertips gently press onto the elf's growing belly with a soft smile. His fingertips holding a shade of violet as well until it begins to channel into Allie.

"Let's see how they are doing, shall we?"

he cants his head to the side for a moment. As he continues, a silhouette of the unborn child could be seen. Their heart beating strong and even able to see it move some within the womb. The very second the knight had seen it, his face lights up. Even the infant's hand reaches up against its mother's stomach as if acknowledging they were both there. Very dim twin orbs moving about somewhat, but not looking in any particular direction. With another deep breath, Endrickson would amplify his methods though he would be the only one to see what truly lay within the elf. It wouldn't be long until his eyes shot open with a gasp.

"Are you ready to know?"

The elation on the Ren'dorei's face was evident as the silhouette of the unborn child becomes visible. If it hadn't dawned on the Ranger yet that she was going to be a mother, That certainly wasn't the case anymore. Squeaking in ooh's and excitement, Allie gently lays a hand over Finian's as she covers her mouth in amazement with the other While her ears flicked as if trying to hear their child's heartbeat. Inhaling deeply as Endrickson asks them both the question, she gently squeezes Finian's hand and gently nods.

"I know I'm ready," she replies sniffling clearly happy.

Taking Allie's hand into his, Finian weaves his fingers between hers before giving a squeeze of his own. However, the affection wouldn't cease there as he leans to press his lips into her hair. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt so much love for a person and even another he had yet to know.

"Aye, let's 'ear it."

The very sight of the two nearly brought Endrickson to tears as he couldn't contain himself. He swiftly removes his hand from Allie's belly and clutches them into shaking fists. He begins to bounce at the foot of the bed.

"It's a BOY!!"

[ @fin-mckendric ] for helping me write this incredible monstrosity both in discord and ingame

[ @revthepunchbear @deadsunharbor @eilitheduskbringer ] for the honorable mention you’re all great

#Starlight & Steel #WrA Alliance #wra roleplay #meanwhile in boralus #ic

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matt-eldritch · 5 years ago

Text

Mortal Kombat Akademy

In between my work on the 31 Days of Original Characters challenge, I've begun to revisit my plans for the big Mortal Kombat story I'd wanted to do for awhile; Mortal Kombat Akademy. I've done a lot of character busts with backstory info and I did a sort of "season one" plots but this is something I'm not really satisfied with anymore. I'm gonna spend the new year trying to readjust and rework the overall story and characters to something more workable. Here's a few odds and ends of what I've planned so far;

Story Outline

Shaolin Monks, Lui Kang and Kung Lao, are recruited into the Mortal Kombat Akademy, the secret fighting school located on the island paradise of international crimelord, Shang Tsung. But those who step foot on the island are subjected to terrors beyond comprehension once they learn the true purpose of the school; a training ground for the soldiers of an interdimensional tyrant who conquers by use of a fighting tournaments ordained by the gods themselves. But one of the gods, Raiden, is willing to give Earth a fighting chance by training as many chosen Earthlings as he can so they may finally defeat the forces of evil in the Mortal Kombat tournament.

Kinda bare bones but for plot synopsis go, it helps me sort of make a launching pad for the ideas. Like my original idea, the story is still primarily about Lui Kang and Kung Lao going to the school and meeting/befriending the typical heroes of the Mortal Kombat world, Raiden being their mentor and Shang Tsung being the big bad to overcome.

But the story ideas I had just don’t really cut it for me now. I feel as though I was sort of putting the cart before the horse by putting so much time making elaborate details instead of snowballing one idea to make a big bright idea. I’ve made some titles for them;

Start the Semester!

Tour the Akademy!

Prepare for the First Exams!

Bond Like Your Lives Depend On It!

Learn the Fatalities!

Wills and Testaments!

Survive the Detetionrealm!

Survive the First Round of Exams!

Survive the Second Round of Exams!

Survive the Last Round of Exams!

Party Your Asses Off!

Mortal Kombat Akademy V. The DC Universe: Dawn of Pain!

To give some context to them, I had a storyarc planned; Early on, Raiden would want the Earthrealm class (the class would have Kang, Lao, Johnny, Sonya, Jax, Stryker and Nightwolf) to be friends and allies in order to survive the matches and save the world. Easier said than done when so many personalities were clashing together. And once they learn about fatalities, the class goes through some mental anguish over having to kill or be killed, Kang being the only one vowing to never kill anyone, to the disbelief of everyone else. Things start looking up once the class starts to trust and respect one another and become stronger fighters.

But Kano, on the behalf of Goro’s Class (Mileena, Kitana, Jade, Baraka, Sheeva, Skarlet, Reptile, Tanya and Kano himself) frames Sonya and Johnny for a crime, leading to Professor Quan Chi to exile them to the “Detention Realm” where his goons, Drahmin and Moloch, deal out the punishments. My idea for them that they’d be bumbling and dim so Johnny and Sonya could escape them, bonding while trying to make it to the final exams. Everyone but Kang and Lao have been defeated and since Sonya and Johnny were late, it’d all be up to them to beat Goro. Once Goro beast Lao half to death, Kang faces his fears and manages to defeat Goro without killing him, but not without making him suffer for all the pain he’s caused.

The class’ reward for passing the exams is an-all expense paid vacation to Edenia, which is basically a hellhole built to Shao Kahn’s pleasure. Here, Kang and Kitana get some alone time to romantically connect to one another during the celebratory feast hosted by Kitana and Mileena’s parents, Shao Kahn and Sindel. But really, the feast is for the Kahns to asses the threat that Raiden’s students hold to their long term plans. And finally, the DCU story is just a fun breather where I have the mid-1990s versions of their heroes (Superman with a mullet, Batman Forever styled Batman and the two Wonder Women, Artemis and Diana, for example).

And after rereading what I had for plots, I noticed how little the Lin Keui featured into the stories since I designed a lot of them for the series. Should try to fix that somehow.

Overall Art Style

As I stated in previous MKA concept art, I based the art style on the look of Steven Universe. I still intend for the project to be written fanfiction, but I do wish to have some elements of it to be drawn by myself. Not a full adaptation but maybe a full page illustration of each chapter, along with the general character/environment sketches, or like the ending credits of The Mandalorian series.

But back to the art style, I wish to change it. I can’t really go further on the style of Steven Universe if this story is going to be about such heavy violence and gore. It wouldn’t really look right, might cross over into unintentional hilarity or into the uncanny valley. I’m looking at something like the artist One, the man behind One Punch Man and Mob Psycho 100 whose style is really unique, fast, sketchy and frenetic, all attributes I think will work well. I also love the anime aesthetic of the 1990s so that’s definitely a goal to achieve since I’m setting the story in 1995.

Story Ideas To Keep

* Koins: My idea for an in-canon reason for the koins you win in matches (at least in Mks 9-11, IDK how far back they go) to unlock Krypt stuff will be used as a way for the students to buy things like food, clothing and resurrections due to being killed by another student’s fatalities since its primarily a learning facility instead of a battlefield. Though if you’re broke, you’re not gonna be saved. Koins, like in the games, will be given for performing a fatality and a moral choice comes up when you think “do I do good and be paid less, or do something terrible but get more chances of being resurrected if I die?”

*Profiles: I’ve got to do some rewrites for the characters. Nothing too too major since I do like a lot of what I wrote, but its more to streamline it to fit in the new direction I’m doing. Like, having Sonya, Jax and Stryker being Hall Monitors, I don’t think something like that is gonna be part of my story since I’m trying to take it a tad more seriously. The idea of Detention Realm and having Dharmin and Moloch as lovable henchmen is still canon, as far as I’m concerned. Think the two mice henchmen from the film “Flushed Away”. And on a final note, the newly retconned origin for Sindel...that shit isn’t gonna be part of my story.

Overall, whatever backstories that’ll be changed will likely be on a case by case basis. No telling who or what will be changed right now, but I’ve now thought of some parts to start with.

Diversity and Inclusion

This one is probably gonna be one of the hardest to accomplish since I really want to make the series really diverse with body types, genders and sexuality, race, neurodiversity, that type of subject matter. Inclusion is really important to me, and I’m scared how I might screw it up like how Disney, JK Rowling, SNL, Simpsons, Big Mouth, Voltron so many more screw it all up since they all serve the needs of the capitalist, neoliberal status quo over the voices of the marginalised.

And with that, brings up some more challenges. Will I make so many diverse original characters that they take time away from the canon characters? Should I make more canon MK characters differently diverse?

I'm also planning on having the characters display prejudices and bigotries but I'm scared I'll go in too much of "Bright" territory, if you know what I mean.

Tackling Mature Content

I mean, it goes without saying that the series is going to be full of violence and gore since that’s basically in the DNA of Mortal Kombat in the first place. But there’s much more serious topics I want to try to write. Like the effects of abuse, queer rights, the above themes about diversity and inclusion, the seemingly never ending war and the ideas of the long defeat. Of course, my chapters will be marked with as clear as possible content warnings, those are important.

A Shared Universe

A month ago, I watched a video about Midway trying to recreate the success of Mortal Kombat into other fighting games. The video, “Remember when Midway tried to copy Mortal Kombat?” talked about three would-be franchises of Midway fighting games; Mace: The Dark Age, War Gods and Bio FREAKS. After watching the video and reading about the games, I think it’d be good for lore if they were integrated into my story. Mace and War Gods could be used as part of the backstory of the series. Like the idea of the Earthrealm Kombatants being the descendants of the characters of Mace and War Gods, maybe Raiden was involved with the later, I’m not sure. Bio FREAKS could be latter used if I go into a time travel story. Maybe a mix of the game and the story/characters of Mortal Kombat X. As for Midway’s other successful but overlooked franchise, Killer Instinct, that is probably going to be the most recurring element in the shared universe. UltraTech, the main villains of the series would be the people behind such things as Kano’s cyborg eye, the Lin Keui’s Cyber Initiative and being the rulers of Neo-Amerika in the Bio FREAKS timeline. I also wrote in the profiles of Nightwolf and Sub-Zero that the Killer Instinct universe is linked to my story (one of his divorced parents is dating one of the parents of KI’s Black Eagle and Thunder while Glacius was an alien that helped give Cryomancers their powers).

And on a side note, there is another Midway MK clone called Primal Rage, which I swear I had one of the toys based on it and saw a parody of it on an episode of Dexter’s Laboratory. Its pretty gruesome, its a bunch of savage Kaiju in a post-apocalyptic earth that resembles the stone age. Probably an alternate timeline/dimension if I use it in my series. Who knows, maybe elements of the worlds of Street Fighter and or God of War could make an appearance...

Writing the Damned Thing

Probably the absolute hardest part of this entire thing. I struggle with actually keeping attention to writing since I’m primarily a visual artist and it feels terrible to not even follow through on any idea I have and it just kinda sits and collects dust in my brain. If its sketching and rendering, I can do it. If its writing shit down, I just have executive dysfunction when it comes to it. I never know where to start writing it, how to continue writing it, how to finish it or how to put it all together cohesively.

I can’t do this without at least writing the complete first season, if I do it on a semi-regular basis, nothing is going to be done. Even like, less than a week of non-recurring writing is like a poison to me. I don’t know how, but if I make room for an hour or two of writing a day every day might help me get more prepared for longer writing.

In Conclusion

When will the first chapter be done? I don’t know. When will I start writing? Hopefully as soon as I can. I can try to post updates or work in progresses, but that’s still a pipe dream, in my honest opinion. But I want to make progress in 2020, I need to make a difference and to actually make this coming year worthwhile.

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be-dazzled · 5 years ago

Photo

#SIYC

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet link: click here Tumblr link: explore here Genre: Multi-chapter, Romance, Comedy Rating: M for sensitive content and language

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. There’s just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women’s apartments. Just living the life.

The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight’s Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of “My Star Can Dance”.

There’s another problem: it seems like his star isn’t that bright since his partner, one of Fiore’s prominent ballerinas, doesn’t know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn’t notice?

…

I've been stung All this chemistry has got me falling I'll be alright I'm definitely high

– GOOD, Erin McCarley

…

Juvia dashed to the living room. Alas, it was too late. The can of worms had been opened. There was no escaping now.

Juvia caught his father seated in the middle of the living room, an open album spread over his lap and a curious Gray leering over him. Gray hanged on Julian’s every word; his midnight eyes glued on the pages of a photo album. Times like this that Juvia wished she was an athlete rather than a dancer. The resentful ballerina dropped down the couch next to Gray, accepting her fate. She just wished it wasn’t ‘the album’ every girlfriend prayed would never see the light of day.

“Here’s my little girl in her first pink tutu. She was four and she never took it off.” Julian beamed. “Here she is in her first recital; she played the young snow white, my little princess.”

The doting father pointed at each photo as he recounted the momentous events in Juvia’s growing years. He glanced at her with pride and love every now and then. Juvia received her father’s gazes with a smile. Yet, the ballerina was on guard. At the back of her mind, the nervous girlfriend wished nothing embarrassing would come out of the album.

“Oh.”

But fate was a mischievous one. As Juvia’s luck would have it, a single photo fell out of the album when Julian flipped the page.

“How did it get here?”

That rhetorical question never meant any good for any one. Girlfriend instinct forced Juvia to grab the polaroid, beating Gray to it, before the man had a good look at baby Juvia naked in the tub.

Why do baby pictures always have to be them butt-naked?

“I’ll take that.” Juvia ran out of places to hide the photo and decided to keep it inside her brassiere. For sure, no one would dare look in there.

“Hey, I wanted to see that.” Gray protested.

The moment the words escaped his lips, Gray realized the possible confusion that his statement may bring. Before they eventually make him lose his standing as Juvia’s favorite boyfriend, he quickly turned to Juvia’s father to clear things up. “I meant the photo, Sir. Not… not your daughter’s… braHey how about this one?”

Gray hurriedly flipped the album to the next page before the now suspecting father held him accountable. His fingers slowed down and ultimately stopped at a single page. Something else caught his attention. Words failed him, his breath hitched in his throat. The corner of his mouth turned up to the slightest degree which did not escape Julian’s studying eyes.

“That’s Juvia in her Fairy Tail jersey.”

“Wow.” Gray said breathlessly staring intently at the photo. He memorized the photo with a gleam of awe in his eyes.

“I have no place in Ballet.” The older man felt the need to get into detail. “She probably felt bad for me. So, Juvia came with me for every Fairy Tail Game, even though she hated it.”

“I didn’t hate it, dad.” Juvia gently corrected.

Gray turned to the woman who apparently shared his love for basketball – proud and beaming and happiness written all over his foolish smile.

“I didn’t know you liked basketball.”

The affection in his eyes was met with recognition. Juvia wasn’t trying to hide it or anything. There was just one little detail she would like to keep to herself – take to her grave if she could. If Juvia started talking about her like of basketball…

“Liked it? Juvia loved it!”

Olivia chose that moment to walk in and release the Kraken. The socialite set the chocolate mud pie on the coffee table. Then, she sat on the arm rest, snaked an arm around her husband’s shoulder before the diplomat rested his arm on Olivia’s lap in return. It was the most natural sight.

“She almost became a basketball groupie.”

“What?” The surprise widened Gray’s eyes but it failed to hide the glint of excitement and a little bit of mischief he felt over the information.

To Juvia’s horror.

“In High School, she almost quit ballet to become a cheerleader. And it’s not even for her school’s team.”

The couple shared a laugh that bounced around the living room. They reminisced the good old days like it was yesterday.

“I remembered her and that little friend of hers, what was her name?”

“It was Levy, darling.” Olivia offered, referring to the now assistant show-writer from the dancing show.

“Oh yeah, Levy. Every weekend they’d take the train to watch basketball events in all parts of the country.”

Julian did not notice the warning look shot his way by none other than his only daughter.

Really. ‘All parts of the country’ was a bit of a stretch.

“There was even one time; her grades were failing so we had to ground her.”

Juvia knew where the conversation was going but her efforts to change the subject were futile. Her warnings were ignored. She couldn’t help but think, “Was there like a rule that tells parents to embarrass their daughter in front of their boyfriend that she wasn’t aware of?” Because the next part of this story was…

“But her favorite basketball team was playing so she snuck off and climbed the gates.” Julian had to wipe the tears off the corner off his eyes.

“Okay, dad.” Juvia stood from the couch, planning on collecting her parents for a nap or something. Anything. “Story time is over.”

“Wait. Wait.” He said between pants. “Here’s the best part…”

But that wasn’t the end of it. Juvia braced herself for the grand reveal.

“Her clothes got stuck on the fence and her mother and I had to take her down.”

A chorus of laughter erupted in the Lockser living room with one voice missing. A picture of the young, delinquent ballerina dangling on the fence would have been a sight to behold. Not for Juvia. Yet, when she thought the worst part was over, her mother opened up her mouth.

“She got so mad she wasn’t able to watch the Magnolia High basketball team. She didn’t even talk to us for a week.”

Juvia felt the urgency to put a stop on the conversation before Gray…

“Hey, that’s my High School team!”

Gray received a knowing smile from Olivia. Finally putting two in two together, he turned to the blushing ballerina beside him. “You’re a fan of my team?”

“Oh, she’s a fan but not entirely of your team.”

“Mother.” Juvia shot the older Lockser her last warning. If the woman wouldn’t keep quiet, it wouldn’t take Gray long before he uncovered a little embarrassing information that Juvia buried a long time ago.

Olivia raised her hand in the universal sign of conceding. She left the armrest and picked a slice of the sweet dessert.

“Oh!” It was Julian who exclaimed, remembering every girl-to-girl talk he was never a part of. “Is he Captain Cutie?”

“Dad!”

“I’m Captain Cutie?” Gray pointed at himself, half-amused and half-surprised at Juvia’s apparent nickname for him.

The cat was finally out of the bag.

Juvia didn’t address Gray. She deflected the issue by putting the blame on her mother; the latter invoked deniability.

“I can’t believe you’re the Captain Cutie we’ve followed around the country for basketball competitions.”

Again, ‘followed around the country’ was such an overstatement. The farthest she went to watch Gray’s game was Oaktown which was a two-day ship ride away. But it didn’t stop the corner of Gray’s lips to quirk in pride, pleasure and something else.

“You followed me around?”

Juvia stood up from the couch, all flustered and ready to jump into the beach and never come up shore.

“In my defense, I was really young and you were really cute.”

Until the very end, Juvia remained defensive. The reason she didn’t want Gray to find out about “Captain Cutie’ was exactly because of how he’d use the fact to tease her, to no end. It was going to be an endless discussion of who liked who first.

“Well, you kids might want to talk about this whole ‘Juvia was your biggest fan and she had a big crush on you’ thing while you get me some pack of burger patties.”

Julian’s voice broke the tension. He coyly gave her daughter, who now had her eyes narrowed at him, a smile. But she couldn’t keep the frown on her face.

“C’mon, Gray.” She walked over the key-holder to grab the keys to her father’s convertible. “I’ll show you around town.” She walked past her folks, dangling the keys in front of her father as punishment.

Two could play at this game, dad.

“Not, not the… not the Ferarri.”

Julian reached out to grab the keys from his daughter’s hand but Olivia kept him where he was standing.

“Let it go, honey.” Was his wife’s comforting words.

…

All the way from the car to isle fourteen, Gray barraged and teased the ballerina, as Juvia had suspected, about that little secret he luckily stumbled upon.

“I knew you were a fan but I didn’t realize it went way back in High School.”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Gray.” Juvia warned as she pushed the cart along the meat aisle. Juvia stopped when she hit something. Apparently, it was a 5’9 chunk of a man with a petty smug on his bright face.

“You had a big crush on me, didn’t you?”

Juvia rolled her eyes. She didn’t know if Gray was stupid or acting like one. Following him around her entire High School life did spell ‘big crush’.

“It was a momentary lapse of judgment.” She hit him again with her cart and shifted it to push ahead of Big Head.

Gray caught up with her picking up a pack of twin burger meat. Apparently, his girlfriend was still pouting. Sensing her irritation, Gray thought of a way to lighten up her mood.

“Well, if it helps, I really have a big crush on you, now and I’m sure I would have if I’ve seen you in one of those cheerleader uniforms.”

“Don’t be creepy.”

Juvia stopped inspecting the packed meat and turned to him, a small smile tugging on her lips. Gray had a way with words and made it hard to ignore him anymore. She told him to continue that she might like him again.

“And actually,” Gray held her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. The corners of his eyes creased with his smile. “I am kind of whipped by you.”

This time, it wasn’t what he said. It was how he held Juvia’s gaze, the way his eyes adored her. Those dark midnight eyes had the power to entice and she bet her money on it, many had fallen for them, including her.

The two became suddenly aware of their surroundings and the voice of someone clearing up her throat ruined the moment. They whipped around to see a large woman around in her late fifties, in Gray’s rough estimate, throwing them a nasty look.

Man, they really were not a popular couple among the forty to fifty demographic.

…

Gray and Juvia spent the whole afternoon going around town, meeting the people in Juvia’s life, visiting the places monumental in her growing years. Some of the townspeople recognized them from the show and requested to take photos. There were also who were fans of Fiore Knights and commended the MVP’s performance in the last season.

When they passed by the town plaza, Gray had a good laugh at the giant tarpaulin with Juvia’s face on it. The woman did her best to hide her face from the public. She didn’t like attention even though her beauty did demand it. The upside of it, Gray said, was that the photo they used looked really pretty.

Walking down Juvia’s memory lane, Gray had a glimpse of the ballerina’s childhood. He enjoyed it immensely. He liked sitting at a corner both of a local diner, enjoying the unhealthy but classic combination of burger and fries. He loved listening to her friends in town talking about embarrassing things Juvia did when she was young. In every story, in every person, in every place, Gray made new discoveries.

When they came home late that afternoon, Julian Lockser threw himself at the red Ferrari, embracing the luxurious car as much as his long arms allowed. Juvia swore she heard him apologize to it (for letting his daughter drive it) even if she returned the luxury car unscathed.

Olivia suggested that they give the man a moment with his car and hinted the idea of inviting Gray down the beach for a stroll. The boy agreed quickly but not before he saw a tear escaped Julian’s menacing eyes.

Why was Gray even scared of that guy?

Writer’s Corner: Hi guys! So, I am a little behind uploading here. I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT CHAPTER 9. I really thought I already posted that one here. Anyways, hope you guys like this one. We are finally on Chapter 10 woot woot.

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #siyc #gruvia fanfic #gruvia au #gruvia modern au #she's in your court

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rockinjoeco · 5 years ago

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Chelsea Turbulence

In my first blog post, I will be talking about my beloved Chelsea football club and reviewing our season so far, including the bad run of form (including the Southampton defeat yesterday) that’s seen us lose 5 out of our last 7 league games, four of which were worryingly against teams in the bottom half of the premier League.

This inconsistency of ours is very reminiscent to Chelsea before Abramovich. There were times when we would get an amazing result, and then a disastrous result the next. For example, in December 2001, we won at Manchester United 3-0, a wonderful result considering the comprehensive nature of the win and that Man United were champions back then and the favourites for the title back then. However, a few days later, that 3-0 win at Old Trafford was followed up by a 1-0 home defeat to Charlton Athletic. For me this season, it’s easy for me to be in despair as a Chelsea fan as losing 5 out of 7 league games is relegation form, but what is important to remember is that we were on a transfer ban, therefore meaning we couldn’t buy anyone, including a replacement for our star player Eden Hazard, who departed for Real Madrid last summer, so at the start of the season, I would’ve just been happy to avoid relegation! Christian Pulisic finally being available to play for us has helped us though, even if he doesn’t fully compensate the departure of Hazard. Hiring Frank Lampard as our new manager, replacing Juventus-bound Maurizio Sarri, gave me some joy as seeing a Chelsea legend returning as our manager was always going to be good to see, but also seeing our former academy coach returning as assistant manager of the whole team rather than just managing academy players meant that our youth players will finally get a chance in the first team. I know we are a big club and therefore us Chelsea fans will be very demanding, but Lampard himself know how competitive we should be and while there’s no doubt that many of our young players have talent, it will take them time for them to become players of the highest standard.

Before the Man City game last month, we were in the top 4 by 9 points, and now after our bad run of form, we’re only 4th by 3 points. As disappointing as this collapse of ours has been, Chelsea have already exceeded expectations this season, playing great football and our youth players like fikayo tomori, Mason Mount and Tammy Abraham have performed well this season, with the latter getting 11 goals in the league. For years, us Chelsea fans have been crying out for our manager to start giving our youth players chances in the first team, and it shouldn’t have to take a transfer ban for that to happen. It still pains me to see how we let the likes of Kevin De Bruyne, Romelu Lukaku and Mohamed Salah go and then become excellent players elsewhere. Previous managers have been too hasty with our youngsters and that’s why we haven’t seen an academy graduate become a first team regular with us since John Terry. Yes, Maurizio Sarri have Ruben Loftus-Cheek and Callum Hudson-Odoi a run of games in the first team last season, particularly in the Europa league, but he was under pressure to do so. Prior to the start of last season, Ruben Loftus-Cheek said he didn’t want to be loaned out again, which Sarri had planned to do. Loftus-cheek said he wanted to be part of the Chelsea team or be sold to another club where he will play regular first team football. Therefore, Sarri has to keep him and make him part of the squad. In January 2019, Hudson-Odoi had been interesting Bayern Munich, and as he wasn’t getting into our first team and having seen how well Jadon Sancho had been doing in the bundesliga, Hudson-Odoi wanted to leave Chelsea and join Bayern. Knowing Hudson-Odoi’s potential, Sarri didn’t want to lose him and therefore had to give him a run of games in the first team. Both Loftus-Cheek and Hudson-Odoi impressed when they played in the first team and gave a positive indication of what they can bring to our team. The impressive form of tomori, Mount and Abraham has finally vindicated our loan system which had been criticised for a long time. Would the trio of youngsters have made the impact that they have made if they came straight from the academy without being loaned out? Possibly not. Roman Abramovich has invested a lot of money into our academy and the loan system was invented to give our younger players the chance to regular first team football at a competitive level. Previous manager have abused that system and used it to profit from our younger players by eventually selling them rather than actually developing them so they can eventually play for Chelsea one day.

Even when we were on a great run and won 6 league games in a row, defence was an issue for us. Defence was an issue for us last season too. Kurt Zouma and Andreas Christensen don’t seem to have developed as much as we had hoped for a few years ago. It was a bad injury back in 2016 that has stifled Zouma’s development when his style of play was reminiscent to Marcel Desailly and it looked like he could be our main centre back for the next decade. It’s never nice seeing bad injuries on footballers, particularly promising young players. As well as Tomori has done this season, he still has a lot to learn and unfortunately has a tendency to make silly mistakes that unnecessarily gift chances to the opposition. There are times when we have won games that we should’ve won more comfortably but then unnecessarily gift the other time a chance to get back into the game and make things more difficult for ourselves. I actually believe the biggest loss this season has been Gary Cahill. Even though he’s not as good as he was a few years ago, his experience could’ve helped tomori’s development while also covering for the absence of Antonio Rüdiger, who we have really missed when he’s been out injured.

Thankfully we can finally be allowed to buy new players in January, and the first half of this season has helped us have a better idea of where to improve. I think we do need a world class winger who can always make something out of nowhere just like Hazard did. I think if we look at those home defeats against West Ham, Bournemouth and Southampton, we didn’t have someone who is world class to create chances that could’ve got us back in the game. Not only could we not have gotten a goal in those game, we didn’t create enough clear chances to do so. Callum Hudson-Odoi struggled against Southampton yesterday, and it looked like it will take him time to become a world class winger. Willian has done well this season, but I don’t think he’s as world class as Hazard was and for me, he’s more of a squad player who can do a job when someone’s out injured or can make something happen from the bench. Christian Pulisic has also done well for us, although it’s taken him time to make his mark on the team, but I don’t think he’s consistent yet, bearing in mind he’s still a young player. Jadon Sancho would be my first choice. He’s done excellently with Dortmund and England, knows Hudson-Odoi and Tammy Abraham through the England under 21s and knows Pulisic from their time with Dortmund. We’ve also been linked with Crystal Palace winger Wilfried Zaha, who is an excellent player and can make something happen out of nowhere like Hazard did, but I think the £80m asking price is probably too much money for him as he’s 27 years old, whereas approximately £120m for 19-year-old Jadon sancho would arguably present better value for money.

Left back is another key position we have to improve on. Azpilicueta’s ability has unfortunately declined this season, having been a wonderful servant for us and can play anywhere in our back four, Émerson just doesn’t look like he’s good enough to be a starter for us and Marcos Alonso is more of a wing back than a left back, so when he’s been playing as a full back, he looks like he’s being played out of position. Ben Chilwell would be my first choice as left-back, who’s done so well with Leicester this season, and I hope a deal can be done with Leicester next month. If we have to wait till the summer to get him, I’d be happy with that, as I can’t think of any alternative targets for the left back position. The jury is still out on the centre back position, because I’m yet to see if Rüdiger and Tomori can pair up together in that position. It would be nice to see Nathan Aké back, who we shouldn’t had sold in the first place. Ake can also play as a left back too, which would be useful if we can’t get Chilwell in January. AC Milan’s Alessio Romagnoli would be good for us too, with many regarding him as the next Alessandro Nesta. There’s also been talk about Frank Lampard wanting you replace our goalkeeper Kepa Arrizabalaga. I personally have no problem with Kepa, I know he is still only 25 which is a young age for a goalkeeper. The thing I don’t get, however, is that when we signed him in August 2018, the club came out and said we’ve been tracking this goalkeeper for the last few years, but his contract was about to expire six months prior to us signing him for over £70m, so if we knew that Kepa was the man we wanted to replace Thibaut Courtois, who had been vocal about wanting to return to madrid to be with his family, why didn’t we make a move for Kepa then? It seemed unnecessary to buy him for a record fee in the summer after he had just signing a new contract with Athletic Bilbao six months earlier.

We should sell Olivier Giroud in January as he doesn’t seem to fit in with Lampard’s style of play, and I think a new back-up striker is needed, and it’s so difficult to buy squad players as every great player wants to play regular first team football, and even warming the bench for a big club like Chelsea may not seem an attractive prospect for them. We’ve been linked with Moussa Dembél�� and Timo Werner, who could be good players for us, but would they want to just be deputies to Tammy Abraham? Possibly not, but I think Abraham himself needs some serious competition as he’s only got 1 goal in his last 6 league games and that competition could help him up his game.

We need to be patient with our young players as this season is a transitional season for us and it’s a big learning curb for them. We also have to remember that Frank Lampard, while he’s a club legend, is a young manager and has shown great potential as a manager when he was at Derby last season. I know many will argue that maybe we should’ve gone for a more experienced manager, but there weren’t many managers who we could’ve attracted with a transfer ban, and the transfer ban actually was a blessing in disguise for Lampard as it buys him time. What I found interesting was upon being appointed, Lampard said he didn’t want any special treatment from the board. We know how ruthless Chelsea’s board is, as you’d expect from any big club, and Lampard knows that whatever decisions the boardroom will make as it will always be whatever decision is best for the club. We have exceeded expectations this season, but being a big club that we are, we must always seek to improve so we can start winning titles again in the future.

#chelsea fc #premier league #frank lampard #eden hazard #callum hudson odoi #christian pulisic #jody morris #roman abramovich #fikayo tomori #mason mount #tammy abraham #reece james #ruben loftus cheek #maurizio sarri #football

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queenbirbs · 6 years ago

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hold steady | Ethan Ramsey x MC

AN: Warning for threat of suicide by a patient. WC: 3984

When Ethan hears the call come over the intercom, he doesn’t think much of it. Or, well, he does -- it’s a serious code, but the phrase is rather heavy-handed, thought up by some board member back in 2006. He hopes they weren’t just being facetious dicks when they decided on it.

“Paging Doctor Icarus, seventh floor,” Mariposa, the receptionist at intake, says again over the intercom, keeping the severity of the page out of her smooth, dulcet tone.

Because the code phrase means there’s a patient on the roof.

It’s not the first time he’s heard it. It’s an unfortunate situation that’s happened twice over his time at Edenbrook. One of those times, the patient was talked down by the police department, and that was that. The other, though, ended in tragedy: the patient panicked and accidentally pulled a resident over with them.

Since he isn’t trained in crisis negotiation, he continues about the paperwork below him, listening to the nurses gossip around him. It’s not like every physician could run up to the roof and try to coax the patient down -- there’s nothing more distressing to a troubled individual than the overwhelming pressure of a crowd.

So, Ethan stays where he’s at, expecting the all-clear from Mariposa to ring through the halls shortly.

What he isn’t expecting is for one of the interns -- the small, short one that tricked him into a long-winded conversation with Doctor Touissant -- to come peeling up the hallway and latch onto another intern’s arm.

“Landry!” she hisses, yanking on the man’s sleeve. “That’s Sloane’s patient, the guy who was screaming at her about his test results.”

“That explains why I saw her headed up the stairs, then,” Landry responds.

The medical term for a heart stopping is sudden cardiac arrest; it’s due to an electrical disturbance within the heart. Ethan has given out pamphlets on it to concerned spouses hanging onto the arms of unconcerned partners; he’s responded to the codes called down the wide hallways; he’s attended seminars about melanoma and its link to cardiac tumors that increase the chances of the condition. He knows, then, that all of the romantic notions behind someone’s heart stopping when they process fearful information is a load of shit -- if everyone in popular media did truly experience their heart stopping, there wouldn’t be as many awful medical dramas (because half the cast would be dead by the second season).

But for a few, long moments, Ethan’s chest tightens and his muscles lock and his brain freezes, and the bombardment of sensations is enough to trick him into thinking that his heart has indeed stopped, too.

Then he’s up and moving, pushing past the interns and rushing to the closest stairwell. The floors seem to fly by as he moves from landing to landing, his only goal to get to the roof before Sloane does. As he climbs, he can hear two or three voices calling out, requesting for someone to come back inside. The noise spurs him on and he makes the final turn on the stairs, shoving off the warning painted across the concrete wall: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Three staff members fill the small landing, all turned to face the open access door. None of them are Sloane.

“Let me through,” Ethan demands, trying to push through them when one turns to grab at his arm, halting his progress.

“Don’t,” the woman orders. “You can’t go out there, too. We don’t want to scare him.”

He yanks his arm out of her grip. Doctor Sandoval is the on-call psychiatrist for the ER, and one of the most experienced doctors in the entire hospital. And yet, right now he couldn’t give a damn what she wants him to do.

“My intern is out there.”

“She’s keeping her distance,” she assures. “I stepped out a moment ago and let her know that we’ve contacted the police. They’ll be here soon.”

Ethan knows Sandoval is going about this the correct and logical way. He shouldn’t run out there, not without assessing the situation first.

But he’s not thinking clearly, because all he’s remembering is the memorial service they had five years ago for the young doctor who was pulled off the ledge. His traitorous brain swaps her framed photo in the renovated north wing with Sloane’s. It’s enough to spur him forward onto the roof, ignoring Sandoval’s hissed request for him to come back.

The sky is bright and sunny, cloudless in a way that Boston never seems to be able to achieve, even on summer days like these. Out past the edge, the river and its concrete banks come into view as Ethan follows the sound of voices. Rounding an HVAC unit, he finally finds her.

Sloane is hovering a few feet away from the roof’s edge, where a young man stands, his arms spread to help him keep his balance.

“Teddy, please come down from there.”

“No -- I won’t, I’m -- I’m not going through this again.”

Ethan takes another two steps forward, his shoes crunching in the layer of gravel atop the roof. Both Sloane and the patient turn at the noise, the latter immediately shouting at him to back off. He heeds the warning, but not without reaching out for Sloane and beckoning her to him.

“McTavish, I need you to come with me.”

At his command, Sloane shakes her head, glancing between him and her patient.

“No, we’re fine here. It’s a nice day outside. The hospital can be so stuffy sometimes, it’s nice to get out. And we’re going to talk some things through, aren’t we? Before we make any decisions, right, Teddy?”

Teddy mutters something in response, but it’s lost to the noise of the wind.

She’s too far away for Ethan to grab hold of her, and he can’t risk getting any closer and spooking the patient more. The twenty feet of roof between them might as well be no man’s land, an uncrossable strip he can’t pass to get to her. The frustration must show on his face, because Sloane holds up her hands in a placating gesture, those clear, green eyes of hers silently urging him to stay where he is.

He’s sure as hell not going anywhere.

“The police are here,” Teddy announces, his eyes on the ground nine stories below. “You can go, Doctor McTavish.”

“If you want me to go, I will. But I’d like to stay, if that’s okay.”

Up on the ledge, Teddy shifts, as if deciding. Ethan mentally crosses his fingers, hoping the young man will demand she leave, and the officers can take her place.

“I guess... that’s okay. You can stay.”

At the words, Ethan can see the breath of relief that works through Sloane, the tight line of her shoulders loosening for a moment. The words give him no comfort, though. Instead, he settles in to wait with her.

It takes fourteen minutes for the first officers to reach the roof. There’s an instantaneous relief that floods through Ethan when he sees them approach, knowing that he’ll be able to pull Sloane back from danger soon.

Across the gravel, Sloane gives the officers a glance, but continues chatting with Teddy.

“Have you seen any of those superhero movies? I’m going to see the newest one this weekend. How do you think it’ll be?”

“Terrible,” he snaps back, but Sloane spots the start of a grin on his lips.

His honesty startles a chuckle out of her.

“I figured. But I think that’s kind of the charm.” She glances over her shoulder at the police standing beside Ethan. “Teddy, I’m letting you know that there are two officers here that are wanting to speak with you.”

“No, wait,” Teddy starts, shaking his head, “I don’t want -- please, Doctor, I’d like you to stay.”

“Then I’ll stay,” she promises. “But I need to talk to them for a moment. I’m going to step away and talk to them, and then I’ll come right back, okay?”

At his nod, she eases back from the edge and over to where the others wait. As soon as she’s close enough, Ethan wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. When she explains that Teddy would like to continue talking to her, Ethan’s grip tightens even more.

“If you’ve developed a rapport with him, then it would be best for you to continue. We don’t want him to feel discouraged by bringing in someone else,” the female officer instructs, “making it seem like he’s something to be passed on from person to person.”

“Unless you feel fatigued, or become worried he may become violent, then let us know,” the other officer adds. “If we need to step in to keep you safe, we will.”

They quickly run through more advice with her while she pulls her hair into a bun, her skin uncomfortably warm from the thirty minutes of constant sun. Beside her, Ethan watches the scene with wide eyes, unwilling to let her go once the officers dismiss her.

“I’ve got this,” she assures him, placing her hand on his chest. “I know I can talk him down.”

“It’s not--” he cuts himself off, a breath hissing through his clenched teeth. “Remember what they told you. If you feel unsure about anything, give us a signal. I know you want to help him, but I want you safe.”

Running her thumb across his shirt, she tries to ignore the drumming of his heart under her palm. The feeling brings the memory of that evening on the balcony, and that’s not something she can take the time to think about right now.

“It’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he tells her, drawing a breath to say more, but nothing comes. Instead, he reluctantly lets her go, his hand skimming down her arm as she steps back out into the sun.

Sloane spends the better part of the next hour talking to Teddy. Or, rather, talking at him. He keeps his responses few and far between. It’s like chipping away at a marble statue, trying to find that sweet spot for him to open up to her. Her legs ache from standing in one place, but she doesn’t dare sit down, afraid that if she does, she won’t be able to reach Teddy in time if he decides to go over.

Time passes slowly, marked only by small amounts of progress. She considers it a victory when she gets him to sit down on the ledge, though he keeps his legs on the other side, hanging out into the open air. Then, ten minutes later, she manages to get him comfortable enough with her leaning against the ledge next to him.

He finally admits to being thirsty, and she calls out to Ethan and the officers for food and drink. They’re sharing a burger and fries, looking out over the Charles River, when Teddy finally turns to look at her.

“You said… earlier, you said that your dad got sick.”

Sloane nods. “Yeah, he did.”

“Did he…”

“Yeah,” she repeats, “he did. He fought it, did every round of chemo, followed his doctor’s rules.”

“But he didn’t make it.”

Sloane works past the lump in her throat, shaking her head.

“No, he didn’t make it. But he tried, for me and my brother. And that’s why I think you shouldn’t give up, Teddy -- you beat this once, you can beat it again.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he finally admits, wiping at his tears with his sleeve.

Seeing her opening, she seizes it.

“Who are you worried for?”

“My husband -- Rowan. I saw what this did to him last time -- he quit his dream job to help take care of me, and we took on so much debt that we’ll be paying it back for the rest of our lives. And his new job, I know he hates it, but it’s all he could get after he couldn’t get re-hired, he was out of the industry for so long, and…” he trails off to hiccup out a sob. “...I can’t do that to him again. I’m not worth it.”

“You are worth it,” she tells him, inching her hand closer until it rests atop his on the ledge. “And if he were here, he would tell you the same thing.”

“Yes, because he’s insufferable. And prone to hysterics when I’ve gotten myself into trouble.” Blinking back a fresh round of tears, Teddy turns his palm up to link his fingers through Sloane’s, smiling softly down at her. “Do you have someone like that?”

At the question, she can’t help but glance back to Ethan, standing in the shade of the building, his gaze locking with hers in an instant.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then you understand -- you get it. You wouldn’t want to put them through what I put Rowan through. Trust me.”

“I understand that. But I also think that you owe it to Rowan to talk about this with him. You know him better than anyone. You’re his person.” Biting at her lip, she takes the chance and tries to dig deeper. “When my dad passed, it was sudden. He was terminal, so the doctors said it was expected, but there’s no such thing. Every death is sudden. I was away at college, trying to finish a paper so I could turn it in and get back home before winter break, so I could be with him. The doctors told him it would be soon -- and he didn’t call. He didn’t tell me or my brother, because he didn’t want us to drop everything and risk failing our classes. It’s been almost eight years and I’m still upset with him about that.”

“He didn’t give you the chance to say goodbye,” Teddy surmises.

“No, he didn’t. I never got to say all the things you need to say to them. I know he knew that I loved him, but there I was, trying to meet a word count, and the choice was taken from me.” She drags in a breath, trying to keep her emotions at bay. “Come down, Teddy,” she tries again. “If nothing else, so you can give Rowan that chance to say goodbye.”

He squeezes her hand tighter, his chin dipping down towards his chest. He’s shaking, now, tears making trails down his face. But then, after a few minutes, he nods.

“Okay,” he whispers, a small grin on his face. “But only because I’m tired. And hot.”

Sloane grins back and moves to give him room, his hand still in hers.

“Then come down. Sit down over here with me, in the shade.”

Guiding him to turn around, she helps him throw a leg over, lets him feel the safety of the roof underneath his sneaker. His other leg dangles out into open space. In her periphery, she can see Ethan and the officers slowly making their way towards them. “That’s it,” she encourages, trying not to wince at how tightly Teddy grips her forearm. “Now the other leg.”

She doesn’t see it, but she hears the sneaker skid against the building.

Then Teddy starts to tip sideways, over the edge.

Snatching his shirt with her other hand, she’s yanked forward, her hips slamming against the ledge and there’s a moment where she knows that she’s going to go over, as gravity wraps around her and starts to pull her over with Teddy, and--

Then: arms. Around her waist, clutching her, tearing her from gravity’s embrace, bringing her back from the tipping point. Time unpauses and she watches the two officers haul Teddy back over onto the roof. An arm hooks underneath her knees while another supports her back, carrying her away from the edge.

She looks up, unsurprised to see Ethan, even more unsurprised to hear him cursing at her as he brings her into the shade. Underneath her shoulder where it’s pressed against his chest, his heart races in time with hers.

“Let me down,” she tells him. “I want to check on him.”

Ethan relents, setting her down. Before she can turn to Teddy, though, he hooks her into an embrace, his fingers sinking into her hair. She takes the moment to close her eyes, her nose pressed to his collar, where his cologne is overpowered by a scent cocktail of adrenaline and fear. “I’m okay,” she assures, feeling him nod.

There’s a light pressure against her temple, so quick and fleeting that it could just be her hair, swept up by the wind. But she knows it’s not.

After they assist with getting Teddy downstairs and into a room, Ethan leads Sloane and one of the officers down to his office to take their statements. Luckily for them, the officer is quick about it, wrapping things up within fifteen minutes.

And then it’s just the two of them in his office, the quiet almost too much to handle after the past hour.

“You have the rest of the day off,” Ethan says, his eyes on the paperwork on his desk, paying little attention to the patient incident form. “Go home, get some rest.”

“Oh, I’m okay.” Sloane waves away his concern. “I wanted to check on my patient in room 426, she wasn’t responding especially well to the antibiotics I ordered, so I--”

“Go home,” he repeats, glaring up at her this time when he says it.

Her eyebrows knit together in anger at his tone.

“I said I’m fine. I don’t need--”

“You’re not fine. You just spent an hour talking someone down from committing suicide. You acted reckless by not letting the professionals do their jobs and nearly got killed for it. Go home, McTavish.”

“I’m his doctor -- it certainly is within my duty to keep my patients alive, no matter the situation.”

“Your job isn’t to talk people down from rooftops, and it sure as hell isn’t to let them pull you over in the process!” he shouts, pushing up from the desk.

Not one to sit and take being yelled at, Sloane stands up from her chair and ticks off her qualifications with her fingers.

“I’m familiar with his diagnosis. I know his medical history. I know him. And if I hadn’t followed him, no one would’ve gotten to him in time.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that I didn’t become a doctor to let my patients suffer,” she throws back. “If he were your patient, you would’ve gone up there.”

Ethan opens his mouth to argue back, but drops the rebuttal before it can form words. She’s right -- because of course she’s right. He would’ve done the same thing, damn the consequences. He rounds the desk to approach her, trying to maintain the calm he doesn’t feel.

“You’re right. I… but you -- you have to understand that this ended well, but it could’ve been much worse. Your patients aren’t worth your life. If -- if he had… there’s too many variables to how this could’ve gone south. None of that is worth you…” he lets his next words fall silent.

All of the things he wants to say are blocked by the wall he built between them, the one that formed back in their hotel room. The door he closed on that night is fighting to open. If it does, he’ll tell her all the things he’s kept private, the thoughts of her that he’s buried down deep and pulled the rug over to hide.

“There are some things that are worth any risk,” she says, repeating his words back to him.

The door swings open. Memories of that evening -- the cool fabric of the dress against the warmth of her skin; the taste of her that he licked from his lips; the honest, open hunger in her eyes backlit by a sky of stars -- they all come tumbling out, washed ashore by a raw flood of emotions.

He moves before he’s even aware of doing so. Gathering her to him, he cradles her head in one hand, bringing her lips to his. She returns the kiss, her arms surrounding him. He can feel the pressure of her fingers, digging needy points of heat into his back. Tilting her head, she deepens the kiss, her tongue dancing against his bottom lip. He opens for her, letting her in to taste and explore, walking her backwards all the while.

When her back hits the desk, she sits down on the edge, ignorant of the papers and files scattered by her presence. Stepping into her space, Ethan groans into their kiss when her legs come apart to let him closer.

“Ethan,” she breaks the kiss to speak, before she’s pulled into his tide again, her breath coming quick and sharp as he trails hot kisses down her jaw and neck. “Ethan, we can’t. You said -- back in Miami, you said--”

“I know what I said.” He pulls back, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. “But I said it back there, back when I wasn’t watching the woman I love almost be pulled over the side of a building by a distraught patient that could’ve… god, Sloane, he could’ve killed you.” Leaning down, he drops a kiss against her temple, shutting his eyes against the unthinkable.

“He didn’t,” she murmurs, her hands working soothing circles against his back. “He didn’t. I’m okay.”

Ethan pulls back far enough to tip her chin up, meeting her for a kiss, and then another. She breaks the kiss again, but this time to lean across the little space between them and drop a kiss on the fabric that covers his heart. He lets out a strangled breath at the motion.

“Are we… not going to talk about the thing I said?”

“You said a lot of things. Most in distress, I know, but…” she tilts her head playfully to the side as he chuckles.

“You know what I mean.”

Her expression changes as she looks him over, a gentle curve to her lips. It’s like she’s flipped to the last page in his book and is reading him over, studying him -- a modern-day Athena, knowledgeable in all things that he dutifully tries to keep hidden.

“I know what you mean,” she says eventually, reaching up to run the pad of her thumb across his cheek. “And no, not if you don’t want to talk about it. I read a study, though, by a professor at Loyola University in Chicago. He said in it that we are our most truthful when we’re angry.”

“I’m not angry. Just--”

“It’s okay,” she tells him, squeezing his hand and bringing it up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. His heart does a dumb pitter-patter at the action.

He’s been at an impasse, of going through the motions while convincing himself that what he did was for the best, that their relationship could be nothing more than meaningful glances shared in the hallways. That it was all they could ever be. He’s self-absorbed at worst and an idiot at best for thinking he could get over the woman before him, for thinking that he could wade in the choppy waters of professionalism for so long and not drown.

Taking a deep breath, he lets her overtake him.

“Have dinner with me.”

She laughs at his request, silencing him with a finger over his lips when he starts to retract.

“I don’t just want dinner with you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Ethan,” she sighs, “we’ve done this dance before.”

“I… might be open to lessons. If, of course, my instructor is patient with me.”

“You’re speaking in metaphors.”

“I know. It… only happens around you.”

“That’s… really cute.”

“It’s not.”

“Agree to disagree then. And yes, to dinner. And… all the rest.”

“Good.” He seals the agreement with another kiss. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

#ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey x mc #choices open heart #in the same universe as my other OH story #I probably need to tag them both with a name to show that they are #hell we'll call this the #metaphor series #nice #Kaila writes things #open heart #I hate tumblr mobile I added one tag to this and it wiped the whole post #f: the metaphor series

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dracoisalooker76 · 6 years ago

Text

My Heart is Heavy - Part 3

Happy Bachelor Monday! I wanted to get this out before the finale tonight so Katniss and Peeta’s journey is entirely their own. You can read the previous parts of this Everlark Bachelor!AU at the links below:

Part 1

Part 2

...

Peeta supposes there are much worse things in life than being stuck in Portugal, forced to film, while nurturing a broken heart, but it’s unfathomable that anything could feel worse in this moment.

Once Katniss left to go home, his contract maintained that he would need to stay for the remainder of the shoot. While the crew did damage control, trying to figure out how to salvage a finale when the verdict becomes clear the episode before, Peeta was given a momentary reprieve from the camera. He cried a lot. He ran more than he has ever run in his life - on the treadmill, on the city streets, on the beach. But he also knew what was coming. They could only delay Glimmer’s filming for so long before she got suspicious, so he took it into his own hands. With just Cressida behind him for crew, he sat each of the women down and informed them of what happened. Neither took it well. Cashmere sobbed and Glimmer begged him for a chance, saying that he needed to move on from Katniss and why not with her?

In comparison to how horrible the night Katniss left made him feel, their break ups were relatively easy. It made him feel nauseous doing it, but he knew he couldn’t pursue anything with either of them. What he had told Katniss was the truth - he knew he would be going home from this with her or with no one.

He had just naively assumed it wouldn’t be the latter.

Unfortunately, due to contractual obligations, he has to remain in Portugal to do more filming while the girls are allowed to go home. They want everything they could possibly need before they send him back to the US. So he walks the beach. He paces with an empty ring box that will be used for promo purposes.

That one hurts. Cressida knows it hurts him and as soon as it’s finished, she guides him back to the hotel and away from prying eyes. Local teenagers have begun to realize who he is and have been caught trying to sneak a peak and the last thing he needs is to have gawky-eyed teens asking him why he can’t stop crying.

He and Cressida sit across from one another at the little kitchenette in his hotel suite in silence. There is nothing she can do or say to help him and he doesn’t want her to speak. He has gotten over his initial anger with her and the crew for bringing Haymitch, now with a clearer head agreeing that Katniss would have left no matter what. In some ways he is glad they brought Haymitch, glad that he helped coach Katniss on how she needed to leave, because the sooner it happened the sooner he can heal.

Cressida reaches across the table. “We all wanted this to work for you,” she says. “You’re one of our favorites.”

He doesn’t even bother faking a grin. “Thanks.”

He knows he’s a fan favorite, that he was chosen after an abysmal Bachelor season before his. Cato was a fiend and the fans hated his schemes and slimey ways with the women. He knows it left the producers scrambling during the following Bachelorette season to find someone wholesome that the crowd could root for rather than hate watch. So when he came on the show claiming the desire to find love and fans were livid when he got the boot as a top five contender before Hometowns, Caesar approached him about the position.

After having been on The Bachelorette, he knew the chances of finding his soulmate were slim but not impossible. So he signed on. What could it hurt?

Except, you know, his heart.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out. He was given it back last night, after producers had kept it through almost the entirety of filming, to call Rye. His brother had to sign and send an NDA before Peeta could call. But they didn’t take it back last night after the call, something he had been surprised about but didn’t bring to their attention. Having it, even if he wasn’t really using it, felt like some small bit of normalcy.

He lifts his iPhone and his eyes widen at the name lit up on his screen. Primrose Everdeen.

The one other time the producers allowed him to have his phone was in order to get Prim’s number while he was visiting Katniss’s family. It was a whole big production of them trying to find it in their bags of things and then handing it to him, setting up their cameras, making him re-ask for her number, and then immediately taking it back per Bachelor rules.

But why is Prim calling him now?

He sets it down on the table and Cressida’s eyes also widen. She motions for him to pick it up and put it on speaker, leaving the table to grab her camera.

Once Cressida gets a quick shot of Prim’s name on the screen, Peeta presses the speaker button.

“Hey, Prim. I have to put you on speaker. Is that okay?”

“Oh my God, are you still in Portugal? I’m so sorry! This call must be so expensive for you. And it’s probably so late. How far ahead are you? Oh, nevermind. I’m so sorry!” she rambles. “I can wait. Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Prim, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he says. “So, let’s start again. Hey, Prim. What’s up?”

She giggles. “Hey.” Then her voice goes serious again. “So, um, I just wanted to call to apologize. It’s my fault that you got your heart broken.”

He frowns. The Everdeen girls are the most confusing humans he’s ever met.

“What do you mean?”

She sighs on the other end. “I’m the one that submitted Katniss’s application.”

He leans his head on his hand. Well, things are starting to make a little more sense.

“But, I did it for good reasons,” she insists. “You see, I love The Bachelor. I watch every season and I just knew you’d get picked and I thought you would be so good for Katniss. Like, she deserves someone nice and...to be honest, I didn’t expect you to pick her. I expected her to go home pretty quickly actually. She can be kind of prickly.”

He can’t help but chuckle.

“But then she didn’t and honestly I was shocked - we all were - that she was going to bring you home. Like, she doesn’t do that. When a guy loves her, she just completely ignores them and tosses them to the curb because of her stupid convictions. So I was kind of nervous for you.” She sighs again. “But, then I saw you guys together and obviously I haven’t seen you with everyone else, but I know my sister. I’ve never seen her that happy before.”

He shakes his head. Great, that doesn’t exactly make him feel any better. It almost hurts worse knowing that Katniss does share strong feelings for him and still left.

“You do know that she left me, right?” he asks. “I tried to get her to stay and she wouldn’t do it.”

“Yeah, she told me,” Prim says. “She told me everything. And I’m sorry, whoever is listening to this, I swear I won’t tell anyone. I already signed that agreement thingy. Don’t get my sister in trouble.”

Cressida chuckles. Prim is literally a sweetheart. At least some of this is definitely going to be aired.

“You’re okay, Prim,” Cressida says.

There’s a slight pause.

“Peeta?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you love my sister?”

He nods his head and his voice cracks as he answers. “Yeah.”

“Well, this may be a lot to ask, but...she loves you. I know she does. But you’re gonna have to be patient with her if you really want it. Our parents really did a number on her, but I think if you’re patient with her, Katniss can get there with you.”

His heart pounds. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up because this is Prim, not Katniss, and it could be entirely a misjudgment. But he wants to believe it so badly.

“You really think that?” he asks. He can hear his voice tremble.

The answer is almost instantaneous. “Yes. I don’t think it will be easy, but...if Katniss lets anyone be her person, it’s going to be you.”

“Prim, she’s already gone.”

“You know where we live,” she says. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

His mouth is dry at Prim’s suggestion. Does she really think that he still has a shot? Katniss always spoke so highly of her sister that he has a hard time believing that she would say something like this if she didn’t think it was true. She wants her sister to be happy. She wouldn’t tell Peeta to try one more time if she didn’t think it was what Katniss wanted.

He and Prim hang up and he runs his hands over his face. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he wants to do but he is so scared of getting to Katniss and being rejected again. He can’t get his hopes back up only to have them crash down for a second time.

“So, what are you going to do?” Cressida asks.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I can’t get hurt again. I can’t.”

“Maybe if you go in with no expectations?” she suggests. She shrugs. “You can talk it out and it might not get you a relationship but maybe it will give you some closure.”

“Maybe,” he says. “I’ll think about it.”

He has a few more days in Portugal anyway. It’ll give him a chance to decide what is best for his heart.

…

Prim knocks on the door before she enters, sticking her head in first before pushing the whole door open. She leans against the door frame and crosses her arms, giving Katniss a face that looks too much like pity. So, Katniss turns away and toward the window. She wraps her arms around the pillow a little tighter and clenches her eyes shut.

“If Haymitch sent you up here, tell him to go to Hell.”

“Katniss,” Prim sighs.

She can hear Prim’s footsteps across the floor until she feels the light weight of her sister sitting on the mattress.

“Did you do anything today?”

Prim already knows the answer. Katniss is sure that the whole reason she came up was because Haymitch told her what Katniss has been in bed all day.

Prim moves off the bed and when Katniss opens her eyes, her sister, who at seventeen seems more mature than half the girls Katniss met in the Bachelor mansion (including, at times, herself), is kneeling in front of her on the ground, her chin resting on the bed so their faces are so close Katniss can’t lie to her. Katniss is a terrible liar anyway, but all of her emotions are written on her blotchy face.

“Why does it hurt so much?” she asks Prim. “I broke up with him.”

“Just because you left doesn’t mean you don’t love him, that you don’t miss him,” Prim says. She reaches forward and puts her hand over Katniss’s and squeezes.

“I can’t believe I let myself do this,” she mumbles, her throat lodging with more tears. She can’t stop crying. She hasn’t cried since her father died and now all the pent-up tears can’t stop. “I let myself get attached.”

“But it felt good, didn’t it?” Prim asks. “You sure looked happy when you were around him.”

She was happy. But was that happiness worth this heartache? She isn’t sure.

The night she broke up with Peeta, she and Haymitch spent the night at a hotel next to the airport since their flight flew out early the next morning. She was so upset, she made herself sick to her stomach. Haymitch held her hair back and then carried her to the bed and let her sob. When they landed, Prim was waiting for them and even though she had been calm on the flight, the second she saw Prim the waterworks started again. Haymitch drove with the two girls in the back. She cried herself to sleep and woke up with Prim in her bed and Haymitch snoring in the old butterfly chair in the corner of her room.

A few days of that went by before Haymitch started to get frustrated with her. Prim continued to coddle her but Haymitch switched to tough love. This morning, when she didn’t move, he dragged her down the hall and all but threw her into the shower. Yesterday he threatened to bring her to the emergency room to get a feeding tube put in if she didn’t eat anything.

She stubbornly kept her mouth closed. He stuffed a burned Eggo waffle in her mouth, just buttered with no syrup to help it slide down.

“Well, look at me now, Prim,” she says, hastily wiping her face. “Do I look happy now?”

“Your heart is broken. Of course not.” Prim clasps her hands together on the bed and rests her chin on top of them. “You could call him.”

She shakes her head. “He’s still in Portugal.”

“He has his phone.”

Katniss raises an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

Prim clenches her teeth together, her cheeks tinted pink. “I...don’t.”

Katniss sits up and narrows her eyes. She and Prim don’t share a lot of traits. Where Katniss is dark, Prim is light. Where Katniss is grounded, Prim is ethereal. The only things they share, which are two traits they got from their father, are that they’re both short and they’re both terrible liars.

“Primrose Everdeen, what did you do?” she hisses.

Prim holds her hands up. “I just wanted to apologize, you know, because I feel like part of this is my fault. You know, Jo and I made your application and I just wanted to say I was sorry.”

“Oh my god, you did not,” Katniss says, throwing her hands in the air. “So you basically rubbed it in his face? How none of this was real? Prim!”

“No, I didn’t!” Prim exclaims. “I swear! I never made it seem like it wasn’t real.”

“Prim, this is real life. This isn’t one of those teen dramas where you can call him and everything turns to sunshine and roses!” Katniss exclaims. “I broke his heart. I led him on. I never told him that you submitted the application. I lied to him and you made it worse!”

Katniss falls back into her pillows, covering her face in her hands. She hears Prim stand up and storm to the door. She drops her hands to see what Prim is doing. Her sister gets to the doorway and turns around, arms crossed and glaring.

“No, Katniss. I don’t think I made it worse,” Prim says. “You are miserable and he sounds just as miserable as you. So I called and told him that I was sorry but I also told him that you love him. Yeah, you may not want to but you do and you would save yourself and Peeta a whole lot of hurting if you’d just realize that love isn’t what’s going to break you. It’s being apart that is breaking you right now.”

She spins on her heel and storms down the hall, her footsteps heavy on the stairs as she goes back down. Probably to complain to Haymitch about her.

Katniss slides into the pillows and closes her eyes tightly. Maybe when she wakes up this will all just be a bad dream.

Prim is right in a way. She is miserable. Her heart is completely broken by her own doing. It’s like she said in the exit interview while they drove away that night in Portugal - “I broke two hearts tonight.” She never wanted to love someone to the point where she could be this broken, but she got there anyway. She loves Peeta and it absolutely terrifies her that it happened so quickly and without her control.

Can she fall out of it? Will she just rot like this, like her mother did, or can she move on? Can she live her life without Peeta in it and forget what it felt like when he was around? She misses him so much. His laughter. His spirit. His kindness. She could probably move on. She pushed Gale completely out of her life and did just fine. She would survive. Once her heart heals, she would be okay.

The real question is, does she want to forget about Peeta Mellark?

She glances at her phone, which she hasn’t really touched since she returned. Even if she wanted to reach out to Peeta for whatever reason - which she can’t, she broke his heart and it’s not her place to go crawling back - she doesn’t have any way to contact him without telling Prim she’s doing it and she doesn’t want to get Prim’s hopes up. The only way she could do it herself would be to DM him through Instagram or Twitter and she is sure she’d just get lost in the sea of girls messaging him because he is the Bachelor.

But she sort of left him under the impression that she didn’t want him to contact her. Peeta even said it was up to her. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Would he come rushing back to her if she told him it was okay? She doesn’t know. Maybe he is completely over her. Maybe he proposed to Glimmer or Cashmere.

She stands and picks up her phone, opening her Instagram app. She finds Peeta quickly. He’s verified and his picture is his Bachelor portrait - probably something in his contract. This is impulsive, something she may very well come to regret in the morning, but her fingers type even when her brain tells her to stop.

Hi Peeta. I want to say I’m so sorry again for what happened in Portugal. Prim told me she called you and told you that I love you. I do. But I also come with a lot of baggage that I didn’t share during our time on set, stuff that makes it so hard for me accept the feelings I have for you. I was not trying to manipulate you to move myself further or anything like that. It is just so hard for me to be vulnerable with other people. I understand that you’re probably mad at me, and you may not even reply to this, but if you would like to talk or anything please let me know. I would really like to have another less emotional conversation with you that can

She stops and erases the last sentence. That sounds horrible. It sounds scripted. She can’t write that. Instead, she types:

I’m willing to be open with you.

She presses send before she can second guess herself.

…

One Month Later

Peeta steps off the jet bridge and into the terminal, immediately searching out an open seat. His ears still haven’t popped and he knows he has an extra pack of gum in his backpack. He ruffles through the front pocket, trying not to let everything fall out. Cressida told him it was a bad idea to try and pack everything for his trip in one carry-on, but he didn’t listen.

This is a busy week for him. He was on Ellen two days ago and then he immediately flew to New York. He was on The View this morning and his segment with Stephen Colbert will air this evening. He has two days here, one of which will include filming a few additional segments for the finale, before he has to be back on a plane to LA for the Monday night season premiere of The Bachelor.

It’s going to be a whirlwind, but this weekend is going to make it all worth it.

He finds the gum and mutters a Thank God under his breath as he crams one of the pieces as far back as it will go, chewing with his left molars to get his ear to pop. Once he has gotten into a chewing rhythm and everything sounds less like he’s underwater, he throws his backpack over his shoulders and turns around.

And is immediately met by two teenage girls.

“Peeta?” one of them asks.

They stand in front of him, eyes wide, both with their phones out. He needs to get out of here before people put two-and-two together about where he is. He can’t ruin his season before it even airs - Caesar would kill him - but he can’t not say hello. They look about sixteen or seventeen and he’s a sucker for kids. He’s not going to crush their spirit.

“Hey, girls, how are you?”

“OMG, we’re like, your biggest fans,” one of the girls says.

“Yeah, like, we were hoping you would win on The Bachelorette, but I’m so glad you didn’t because I’m so excited you’re the bachelor,” the other rambles.

“Can we get a selfie?” the first girl asks.

Cressida, who walked off the flight unscathed, meets his eye across the boarding area and taps her watch. He knows. He only has a matter of time before someone sees him a causes a true scene. Caesar is probably going to kill him for this and Reality Steve will use this in a few months as evidence for Peeta spoiling the season, but he can’t say no to the girls. They seem pretty harmless. So, he makes up a little white lie.

“If it’s quick. I have a tight connection I have to make.”

The girls nod and quickly get into position. They smile for the camera and he notices other people have started to look. Oh, no, he’s definitely gonna get caught.

They smile and snap the photo, the girls’ grins so bright in the screen. They thank him profusely.

“I hope they casted some great girls for you,” one of the girls says.

He nods. “There are thirty lovely ladies. I can assure you.”

The other smirks. “Are you engaged?”

He shrugs. “I guess you’ll just have to watch the season to see. It was nice meeting you, but I really have to go catch my flight.”

They let him go and he walks toward Cressida, who in the time it took for him to take the selfie managed to grab a baseball hat from the souvenir stand. She hands it to him and he stuffs his trademark blond curls in the light blue cap, hoping now he’ll blend in rather than be a beacon to anyone who somewhat follows The Bachelor franchise.

She has her phone out and sighs. “Well, you have officially been tagged at RDU,” she says, holding out the phone. She managed to find the girls’ Instagram accounts and, low and behold, there is Peeta’s shining face. “I sure am glad your season is pretty predictable in who you pick and that the main drama is how it all works out.”

“Do you really think people are going to realize that I’m visiting Katniss?”

“First comment: OMG DO YOU THINK THAT MEANS HE PICKS THE NC GIRL?” She shrugs. “I dunno. You tell me.”

He looks over her shoulder and points at the screen.

“There, the poster responded. I dunno he said he had a connection so he’s not stopping for her if he did.” He gives a small smirk. “There, Caesar can’t kill me now. I at least tried to cover it up.”

She shakes her head. “Let’s just get you out of here before people see us leaving.”

He isn’t a big celebrity, but he feels like it as airport security guides him and Cressida through a back door. A transport car with black tinted windows is waiting for him. As soon as he gets in, he takes off the baby blue cap and sets it on the seat beside him.

He hasn’t see Katniss in person since she left Portugal. He debated back and forth about whether he was ready to put his heart back on the line like Prim suggested, ultimately deciding not to do anything until he touched back down in the US with filming wrapped. He went about checking all his social media that had been neglected during his journey and nearly missed Katniss’s DM as he was quickly deleting random junk. The fact that she had reached out to him first gave him the courage to message her back.

Rye wasn’t too convinced that Katniss wasn’t just trying to get back into his good graces to pilot herself to Instagram stardom and sponsorships, but Peeta knew how little Katniss posted online and how out of touch she was for a 23-year-old in today’s social media age. It didn’t sound like her to want to be the spokeswoman for something like Fab Fit Fun or hair vitamins and her message had sounded sincere. So the two started out with messaging through Instagram before moving on to text messages. Then phone calls and FaceTime.

Despite the fact that it’s only been a little over a month since he wrapped filming, he has spent more than twice as much time communicating with her than he did during the two months they were on set together. She is someone he feels comfortable sharing even the worst details of his life with, things he had kept quiet on set. The steadiness he feels with Katniss allowed him to open up completely, telling her more about the dynamics of his family on a call that lasted so long his phone actually overheated and shut off. He told her that he was the child that was supposed to save his parents’ marriage, born ten and thirteen years after his older brothers. He tells her about how neither of his parents made it a secret they wanted a girl. How his oldest brother left the family when Peeta was eight, cutting himself off completely, and how his father married a woman twenty years his junior and started a whole new family - the boy, the girl, the Labrador retriever and the white picket fence.

He tells her about Rye’s party animal ways and how his mother’s verbal abuse got to be so bad that Rye hid him in the dorms, registered him for school with a fake address and how his older brother walked him to the elementary school down the road every morning before going to class himself. He told her how his prepubescent years were spent being raised by coeds who thought he was cute until someone had to stay behind to watch him while the rest went to the clubs. Because Rye was the life of the party with a wicked charming smile, he somehow managed to convince someone to always stay behind, and so little Peeta spent most weekend nights sitting with one of Rye’s friends, watching Disney movies if it was a responsible friend or learning about the hierarchy of cheap beer from others.

It’s all part of why he submitted an application to The Bachelorette. He wants nothing more in the world than to find someone who loves him as much as he loves her. He wants a partnership as much as passion. Granted, finding that on a reality show might not have been where most people would expect, but he thought anything was worth a try. After being bounced from person to person, place to place, never really finding his niche, he just wanted someone to love him back.

As they shared stories back and forth, being open about their pasts and where they see their future, he learned so much about Katniss. She’s witty and sarcastic in a way that couldn’t shine through with five or six crew members trailing behind them with cameras. She could probably survive in the wilderness but can barely figure out new technology. Prim is in charge of her social media now that she is contractually obligated to keep it up during the airing of the show. He saw her maternal side on the show, but he now knows she’s also fiercely loyal and an amazing singer and someone who can make him laugh.

She is also less confusing. She told him her story on why she is scared of relationships. Her parents had one of those soulmates love stories, where her mother actually stopped talking to her family who didn’t approve of the boy that would become Katniss’s father. Katniss never realized how much her family struggled as she was growing up because she was surrounded by so much love and attention. Her father encourage her and Prim in ways Peeta hopes he can do for his children. And then her father died right before her eleventh birthday and her mother broke down and turned to drugs to ease the pain. When Katniss told the story it nearly broke his heart.

“So, my mom would do her drugs in this park downtown, where all the addicts hung out together, and then one day she started bringing it home. A couple months later, Prim and I came home from school and she had OD’d. I called an ambulance and we went with her. An ER doc called CPS and Prim and I were separated for seventy-four days in different foster homes. I don’t know how, but by some luck Haymitch got Prim as a foster kid, she told him about me, and the rest was history. He adopted us as soon as my mom relinquished her rights and I told myself that I would never do what she did. I would never allow myself to love someone so much that I lost myself when I lost them. I guess I just figured that if I didn’t love anyone like that at all, then I’d always be safe. I just didn’t realize what I was missing by cutting it out of my life completely.”

It wasn’t long after that they decided to be unofficially official, a funny term just for them as they waited for the season to play before they could be out in the open. But it didn’t stop them from wanting to actually see one another. FaceTime is great but it just isn’t the same as being together. So when Peeta casually mentioned to Cressida what was going on behind the scenes, she talked to Caesar. With the caveat that they film some scenes they could edit into the finale, they would make sure Peeta got to Katniss before the season premiere, pushing dates and appearances specifically for them.

So that’s how he ended up in North Carolina a few days before the season premiere, in the back of a familiar transport vehicle.

They pull off the highway and into a quiet neighborhood that Peeta remembers from his visit to Katniss’s hometown back in November. Caesar wants it to appear like Peeta left Portugal and went straight to Katniss, so he has a little monologue in the car and they’ll shoot him walking up to her door to knock on it. They’ll end the episode there and everything will be revealed on the live ‘After the Final Rose’ episode, a compromise that Peeta and Katniss agreed to do. Neither wanted the cameras around for their first meeting. They’ll film some shots together tomorrow that Cressida mentioned for some sort of montage, but today is just for them.

They pull up in front of Katniss’s house and a flood of memories rush to him. He and Prim hit it off well, but he’s pretty sure Haymitch isn’t exactly his biggest fan. He takes a deep breath and takes the rose off the seat beside him. He will hold it as he walks to her door and knocks, but then during a fake scene tomorrow he’ll have his ‘final rose ceremony’ in a location that Cressida sent some intern to explore.

He knocks on the door and then Cressida calls cut. He holds the rose out to her to take and then the crew starts to pack up. Once they’re back in the car, on their way to the hotel, he knocks again. That’s Katniss’s signal that the cameras are gone.

His heart beats out of his chest. The first time he ever saw Katniss she was dressed in a long gown, walking out of a limo toward him at the Bachelor Mansion. He could tell she was nervous that night, her voice shook, and he tried to take the lead so her nerves wouldn’t show too much on camera. Honestly, her first impression wasn’t a stellar one. He has seen bits of how they’re editing it and Katniss won’t make a big impact on the first night unless someone is really analyzing it.

But that was Katniss the Contestant. Katniss opens the door now with a big grin on her face and that’s really the only thing he can register before she has her arms around him. She’s up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and he lifts her up, her legs circling his waist, holding on so tightly like she doesn’t want to let go.

She puts her forehead on his. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says back.

“How was your flight?”

“It was fine. Got me here.” He doesn’t know if he should kiss her. It would be so easy to do but he doesn’t want to rush anything. He wants to show her that he is fine taking things as slow as she wants them to go. “So, what are we up to tonight?”

“I’m not use to being the one to create the date card,” she teases. Then she slides down his body, gesturing for him to follow her. “So, Haymitch and Prim are out. It’s just us.”

His eyebrows raise. “Really?”

She nods, leading him into the kitchen. “Yeah. They went to a movie and then they’re gonna do dinner out so it gives us some time alone.” She turns back and winces. “I, uh, I tried to cook.”

“You never told me you were a chef.”

She shakes her head. “Not exactly,” she says. He looks over her shoulder and sees the remains of something on a pan in the sink, though he can’t tell what it was originally. “Prim says they can bring something back later but we could always order a pizza.”

He chuckles. “That’s up to you. You’re usually hungry so we can do pizza.”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” she says.

She tells him to sit down on the couch in the living area that’s open to the kitchen and he watches her order the pizza once they decide on the toppings. She drops her phone and comes to join him.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she says.

He lets his hand fall to her knee and she curls into his side. “Yeah, it feels good.”

Her eyes keep darting from his hand to his face, from his eyes to his lips.

“What is it?” he asks.

She tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, almost looking embarrassed. Then she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“I kind of want to kiss you right now.”

He feels like his face might break in half the way his grin stretches. “So why haven’t you?”

“I dunno. Can I?” She blushes. “Look, I haven’t done this before. You’re gonna have to be real patient with me.”

“Alright, just so you know,” he says, leaning in close. “I’m your boyfriend, so feel free to kiss me anytime you want.”

She leans forward and gives him a feather light kiss, so short that he barely feels her do it. Their eyes meet and he reaches forward, taking her face in both his hands as they meet again. They’ve kissed plenty of times before, sometimes for long stretches of time on their one-on-one moments during the show, but this kiss is the start of something new. With nothing to interrupt them but themselves and no one watching through camera viewfinders or TV screens, this is a moment just for them.

They only break apart when the doorbell rings. Katniss sits in Peeta’s lap and slowly slides her hands out from under his shirt. They share a smile and Katniss leaves one last peck on his lips before climbing off him and fixing her braid.

“I’ll get that,” she says. “Then we can pick up where we left off?”

He nods. Yes, they can, because they have all the time in the world.

...

And there we go, an HEA for Bachelor!Peeta and Katniss.

Hope you enjoyed! Maybe I’ll dabble in this universe again if the spirit takes me. This was fun.

#my heart is heavy #my heart is heavy part 3 #bachelor!au #bachelor!peeta #everlark #fanfic #everlark drabble #drabble

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stillthewordgirl · 6 years ago

Text

LOT/CC fic: Cuffed (chapter 1)

A run-in with time pirates leaves Sara and Leonard a bit, ah, closer than they planned for a few days. But maybe they can have some fun with this if they can just deal with the feelings they've both been ignoring. (Set in an extended Season One.)

Yeah, I know I have other things to write. But I set out to write a short piece with one of my favorite tropes and it got out of control. (Again!)

Many thanks to LarielRomeniel and Pir8grl.

Can also be read here at AO3 and here at FF.net.

“How do you two get yourselves in these predicaments?”

Sara, still glaring at the captain, turned her wrist from side to side, feeling the cuff locked around it securely. Too tight to slip out of, even if she dislocated her thumb, and no way they’ve been able to figure out to disrupt the connecting energy field. “It wasn’t us, Rip. Those goddamned time pirates...”

Leonard is, of necessity, so close that she can feel the deep breath he takes before adding: “...had us outnumbered and outgunned, thanks to you.” The irritation dripping off the words manages to cloak just how unsettled by this he is. Mostly.

Rip takes his own deep breath, folding his arms. “Yes, I made a misstep, believing that they may have truly had a few surviving Time Masters on board.” Something flickers in his eyes, regret and maybe even grief, but Sara pretends not to see it. “But they’re gone now. No harm done.”

“Save some damage to the Waverider’s systems and Mr. Snart and Ms. Lance’s plight,” Gideon cuts in, just a bit tartly. The AI, Sara thinks, has become more her own...well, person...since the Vanishing Point’s destruction, and isn’t that interesting?

Rip hangs his head in a vaguely guilty way that neither Sara nor Leonard’s ire had drawn out of him. (Also interesting.) “Yes, well.” He studies the cuffs another moment. “Mr. Rory, thanks to his time as a bounty hunter, should be able to get you out of those. You just have...”

“...to wait until he gets back,” Sara finishes with a sigh.

“Which might be days,” Leonard growls. He moves his hand restlessly, moving Sara’s as well. The time pirates hadn’t even cuffed them in a way that would let them stand side by side, but had cuffed right wrist to right wrist and made things even more awkward.

At least, Sara thinks, they’d been able to maneuver so she could stand in front of him. While Leonard’s shoulders make for rather a nice view, that had made things even more awkward.

“Yes,” the captain admits. “I’m sorry. But...”

They hear their incoming teammates before they see them. While Mick and Ray are out on the jumpship on another mission, the others are still here, and either hadn’t run afoul of the time pirates or hadn’t been quite so outnumbered.

“What...” Jax very nearly skids into the room and stops short, staring at Sara and Leonard—and the rather obvious pair of handcuffs linking them. Then he barks out a laugh, smirking, and Sara sighs, closing her eyes. It’s rather nice, having a surrogate little brother on the ship—until a situation like this.

Jax has already been pestering her about the status of her...whatever it is...with the crook. He’s going to have a field day with this.

“Oh dear.” Stein has entered behind his partner-in-Firestorm. He peers at the cuffs, looking just a little amused. “The pirates? Were they...”

But Leonard’s apparently done with telling the story. He lifts his hand (lifting Sara’s too, of course) and gives the cuffs a shake.

“Can you work your transmut-whatever trick on these?” he asks a bit harshly.

Sara hadn’t thought of that. She looks hopefully at the pair as Rip makes a thoughtful noise. Stein and Jax glance at each other before the latter shrugs and holds out his hand, dissolving into Firestorm as Stein takes it.

Then he steps forward as Leonard and Sara extend their arms, putting a fiery fingertip on the cuff on Leonard’s wrist.

Nothing happens. Jax/Firestorm frowns, keeping his hand there a long moment before pulling it away and shaking his head. Leonard sighs as they separate again, and Sara glances at him briefly before looking back at their teammates.

Jax is studying the cuffs, looking a bit puzzled.

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “I dunno what that’s made of, but it’s not having it.”

Stein peers at them. “It’s a rather fascinating material. May I...”

“Maybe when we’re not attached to them,” Sara mutters. She glances up at Leonard. “I need a break from this. You?”

His eyes are shuttered in a way they haven’t been in a long time, with her. “Lead on, Canary.”

Leonard’s been wondering how to go about getting closer to Sara for a while now. This, is, however, not even remotely what he'd meant by that.

Not only is it enforced physical closeness, not chosen by either of them, he’s still wincing away from the way he’d panicked when he’d woken up on the floor of the corridor and felt the weight of the cuff around his right wrist.

It makes no sense, really. It's not like he's a stranger to cuffs, after all, and he hasn't been for decades. He can get out of them in almost all circumstances; he can even fight quite well in them if he needs to. It should have just been an annoyance, just one more bit of necessary information toward working to get out of whatever situation they were in.

Instead, the panic had been followed almost immediately by a wave of remembered agony, one that crested on a feeling of intense nausea as memory asserted himself, the chill of the ice, painful in itself but almost reassuring compared to what happened after...

Reason, for the moment, had abandoned him. Leonard had jerked his arm toward himself, frantically flexing his fingers, trying to assure himself that his hand was restored, that the awful, choking pain was only in his memory.

His arm was there. It was there.

And something—someone—was attached to it.

In the present, Leonard sighs--inaudibly, he hopes. His strangled noise and convulsive movement had woken Sara, whom he’d last remembered fighting at his side against the time pirates trying to take over the ship. Her arm had been bent under her awkwardly, and his motion had hurt her. She’d make a noise herself, half a cry of pain and half a groggy curse, and that had been enough to bring Leonard back to himself.

Rip’s best guess had been that the time pirates had been planning to either take them with an eye toward some sort of bounty or had simply wanted to keep them out of the way until they could figure out who on the ship was who. Still, there were only a few of them, and Leonard and Sara had wounded or taken out a couple—and once the rest had run into Firestorm and Hawkgirl, it’d been all done.

Too bad the others had pitched them back onto their ship before realizing what had happened to Sara and Leonard.

His sigh had, apparently, not been inaudible. Sara, who’s walking ahead of him down the corridor, turns her head to look back, sympathy—ugh—on her face. She’s holding her arm sort of behind herself, apparently to give them a little space, and Leonard’s holding his arm out stiffly in front of himself, but they’re still close. And what would be welcome in other circumstances isn’t nearly so much when it’s not by either of their choice.

“My room’s closer,” Sara says quietly. “OK?”

He’s no stranger to her room—although, again, not in the way he’d like. “Yeah.”

At least it’s her. The notion of being this tied to one of the others…he can’t help the visceral shudder the thought causes, even though he even likes some of them now. Not even Mick—they may be close, closer than either would once have admitted, but they’re not touchy feely. Too many harsh reactions to such closeness, over the years.

Sara, though, sees the faint movement and…and there’s that sympathy again. Not what he wants, damnit.

But this isn’t about what he wants. And so he says nothing.

There was no way Sara could have missed the shudder that wracks Leonard as she slows and he comes a little closer. It hurts, a little—she’d thought that by this point, they were friendly enough that her physical presence, even this close, would be welcome. Actually, she’d thought certain kinds of physical closeness would be more than welcome.

Still. He’d never brought up “me and you” again. Perhaps she’d misinterpreted it.

The last thing she wants him to do is feel as uncomfortable as he’s apparently feeling. Leonard’s become a friend, a very close friend, as this quest to destroy Savage has continued. And that means a lot to her. More than any type of physical…closeness.

That’s what she’s telling herself.

Damnit.

The door to her room opens as she nears it, and Sara moves inside quickly, knowing at this point that even if the barrier closed between them, the force field connecting the cuffs would continue to work. The technology would be sort of interesting, she supposes, if it wasn’t being used on her. Them.

Leonard follows with alacrity…well, he doesn’t have much choice. As the door slides shut, Sara starts to turn to face him, only to remember that would wrap his arm around her and pretty much put them nose to nose. She swallows the thoughts that elicits and maneuvers so that her arm is wrapped around herself instead, a bit awkwardly but safe enough.

When in doubt, go with humor.

“In a way,” she tells him, “Rip has a point. It’s always us, isn’t it?”

It does get a faint snort. “Depends how you define ‘it,’” he mutters, looking down at his wrist and then back up at her.

There’s something… Sara’s rueful smiles melts into a frown. “You OK?”

Silence. His eyes are downcast again and he’s studying the cuff around his wrist with a frozen…no pun intended…expression.

“Len?” Sara bites her lip. “I’m sorry. I know this is…”

“I’m OK,” he cuts in bluntly. “I’ll manage. I…” A longer pause, though he still doesn’t look up---or unfreeze. “The problem. It’s not you.”

She has to believe that. But…

Sara looks down at where Len has his other hand wrapped around his wrist--and then it finally strikes her. It hasn’t been so long…not so long at all, mere months…since he’d gone through a fairly extreme amount of physical trauma, trauma caused in a way by the man he’d once considered his only real friend. Yes, he’d made the choice to…to do what he’d done…but that didn’t change what had happened.

Oh. Oh, she’d completely disregarded that. And there’s no way he’s not thinking that he might have to…

Sara takes a step forward, reaching out to put her hands on both sides of his face before he can pull away.

“Leonard,” she says, then, forcefully, “Len.”

After a moment, his eyes lift to hers. Guarded and wary, and that saddens her, but it’s him, and that’s what she wants. No point in prevaricating.

“If it comes to that, I’ll do it myself,” she tells him, knowing he’ll understand. “No, don’t shake your head at me. Once is enough in any lifetime, to go through that, and…” Sara takes a deep breath. “The League taught me any number of advanced…advanced pain management techniques. And Gideon can work her regeneration tricks…”

The AI cuts in gently. “Mr. Snart, Ms. Lance,” she says quietly, “I wish to assure you that I am doing everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

A moment of quiet. Then Sara lifts her eyes from Len’s frozen gaze. “Thank you, Gideon,” she says quietly. “I…we appreciate that.” She pauses. “Len? Look at me?”

It takes a moment, but his eyes meet hers again.

“How are we going to manage this?” Sara asks calmly. “I know…I know you don’t like contact. But…”

Leonard decides, suddenly, that he needs Sara to know that that’s not it. That’s not the issue, not in this circumstance. He takes a deep breath and then gives her a look from under his lashes, reaching for his habitual cool and the bantering relationship they usually share.

“It’s not that,” he drawls, letting a slight smirk touch his lips, shrugging when Sara gives him a slightly surprised and skeptical look. “The, ah, possible contact.” His voice drops. “It’s all right with you. But I know you didn’t choose this either. And that’s…not how I want it.”

More surprise flickers in Sara’s eyes as she stares at him. Leonard keeps his gaze level, trying to project sincerity for once. And finally, she lets a smile touch her lips too.

“Ah,” she says quietly. “Good to know.” A pause, during which she looks down at their linked wrists. “I didn’t, of course, but…I’m glad it’s you.”

For a moment, they teeter on the edge of what even Leonard can tell is a moment. Which means, of course, that he panics and falls back on innuendo.

“Hey, if you wanted to be this close to me, Canary, I’m sure we could have worked something out that didn’t involve…hardware.”

Sara lifts an eyebrow at him, smirking. “I dunno,” she murmurs, “there are funner things we could be doing with handcuffs.”

It’s enough of a surprise that he barks out a laugh—and the potential moment’s past. For now.

“Well, maybe we revisit that thought when we both have a choice about it,” he drawls just a little suggestively, a careful step toward a subject he’s avoiding since before the Vanishing Point exploded, then immediately changes the subject. “Mick and Raymond should be back within a couple of days. I’d hope.”

“I don’t think I’m quite that optimistic.” Sara allows the change of topic with a sigh, shaking her head and then starting to reach upward with her uncuffed hand. “Crap. After working out, then fighting and then laying in my own drool for a while, I could really use a sho…”

She stops, and for a minute, they very intently don’t look at each other. Leonard, for his part, is trying not to react (voluntarily or involuntarily) at the idea of Sara naked in the shower in any capacity, but she’s right too. This is the sort of practical concern they’re going to need to deal with.

He’d like to wash up too, natural fastidiousness unsettled by the idea of refraining until they can get free. But…

Practicalities, Len. “Also got some wardrobe concerns.”

Sara blinks at him, then looks down at the purple top she’s wearing and apparently registers that she’ll have to cut it off if she wants to change clothes—if she can even do that. “Damnit. I like this one.” She sighs again. “Are we sure there’s no way of reaching Mick and Ray?”

“Hunter says not. Take that for what it’s worth.” Leonard watches her a moment, seeing a patch of blood (not hers) on her jawline and the sweat marks on her top. Doesn’t make her any less attractive, but he can sympathize with the desire for a wash. “And more notably, Gideon backed him up.”

“Damn.” She gives him that rueful little smile again. “I’d like to at least go wash up a little. OK? No need for anything more…revealing…right now.”

He’s going to be lucky if he survives this. “As I said…lead on, Canary.”

Well, well, well.

Sara reflects on Leonard’s rather unexpected words as she leads him down the corridor toward the bathrooms. Both the ones that skirted around feelings, and the ones that had referred to more…physical connection.

She finds herself rather intrigued by both, actually. Apparently he’s still interested, after all. And if nothing else comes of this incident…well, there’s that.

The bathroom is deserted. Sara puts her soap and washcloth down on a sink and glances over her shoulder at Leonard, who’s standing close behind her.

“They couldn’t have used our left wrists, could they?” she mutters, turning on the warm water a bit awkwardly with her left hand.

He smirks at her from far too close for her own equilibrium. “Speak for yourself,” he says quietly, reaching out himself to hold his own cloth into the stream of water. “I’m pretty much…ambidextrous.”

The voice is nearly a purr, and it’s impossible not to consider what he could do with that…dexterity. “Well,” she retorts, facing forward again but tilting her head back a little into him, “it’s not like the League didn’t train us to use both hands…for anything we need.”

Leonard coughs a little and Sara smirks at the fact that she’d managed to unsettle him again. She wets her own washcloth, brushing his left hand as she does so—their linked right hands are still hanging at their sides—and brings it up with a sigh to wipe at her face, trying to remove the worst of the dirt, blood and sweat before actually washing. Leonard, she thinks, is doing the same.

Adding soap, of course, means bringing another hand into it.

Cautiously, Sara moves their linked hands over, picking up her bar of soap and lathering up her washcloth with it. That means pretty much moving Leonard’s arm around her, but he doesn’t say a word. Still, his breathing is distracting as she pauses, puts the soap down again, and reaches up to wash.

She makes sure to reach down into the bit of cleavage the top exposes, too, since she may or may not get a shower anytime soon. Leonard’s breathing speeds up. That’s…fun..

When she rinses out the cloth and hangs it up, though, he clears his throat and reaches for the soap himself. Sara glances up into the mirror as he carefully wipes off his face, eyes closed and mouth a wry line, and…hell if that’s not oddly attractive. Well, Leonard is, and she knows it, but she doesn’t get much of a chance to study him so closely. That jawline, the edge of stubble, those cheekbones…

The amazing blue eyes that are now looking at her with amusement.

Sara smirks back instead of glancing away, and the corner of Leonard’s mouth twitches. He rinses out his washcloth and hangs it up too, then looks back at her.

There’s no way this should have been as arousing as it was. How are they going to get through the next few days again? Sara clears her throat.

“Enough for now?” she asks.

Leonard shrugs a little. “I could use some rest if we can figure that out,” he admits. “It’s getting late, ship’s time. Ah…”

“Your room this time, Snart. It’s a lot neater.”

Leonard’s never particularly minded the Waverider beds before, but now…well.

He and Sara study the bed before Leonard sighs and brings his boot up to brace it against the edge. He gives Sara an apologetic look before pulling her hand over with his to help him untie and remove one, then the other.

Sara, who’d just kicked off her own shoes, gives him a wry smile. “OK,” she says. “You prefer to sleep on your back or…?”

An unusually loaded question, Leonard knows. He’s already spent too much time thinking about this. In far too many permutations. “Don’t care,” he manages.

He generally sleeps on his side. But if he does that, they’ll wind up sleeping spooned, an intimate posture that he’s not so sure either one of them are ready for. Or are they?

“Either is fine,” he adds abruptly. “Back, I suppose. Could go with either.”

Sara studies him, then nods. If she realizes the reason for his sudden abruptness, she doesn’t mention it. She nods toward the bed, and Leonard, figuring logistics quickly, nods, clearing his throat and lying down, stretching out on his back by the wall, cuffed right wrist held a bit awkwardly by his side.

She slips into the bed, stretching out next to him without a word, her own wrist so close to his, by necessity, that they could hold hands.

They don’t.

After a moment, Leonard quietly requests that Gideon turn down the lights, which the AI, ever talented at multitasking, does immediately.

By the sound of her breathing, Sara falls asleep fairly quickly, despite their plight.

Leonard does not.

#captain canary #sara x leonard #legends of tomorrow

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