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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

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Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The door to the bathroom slammed behind Yixing as he plastered his back against the cinderblock wall. The bathroom was empty, thank goodness. His heart was pounding, beating in rhythm to the pawing of the wolf. It growled at him to go back, to find you and claim you. He fought against it. Barely.

All this time you had been here, on this campus, and he never even knew it. How many times had he come close to almost running into you? Almost had a class with you? How many times had he walked into the student union or a lab or any other classroom and missed you by mere seconds? Having met you now, under these circumstances – it almost felt like Fate was taunting him.

Sliding down to the floor, Yixing let his head fall back against the paint-flaking stone. A small smirk tugged at his mouth. He’d found you. Like a flower blooming for the first time… you were beautiful. Your smiles had been small but stunning. When your hair fell like a waterfall hiding your face, his fingers twitched to push it behind your ear. Yixing had found girls pretty before, but you – you were fascinating. Like seeing a close up picture of a new planet a million lightyears away for the first time. As quiet as you were, he was determined to flip over the stones and discover what lied underneath.

Elation soon gave way to worry, though. Now that the first step was done, he had to proceed with caution. He didn’t want to scare you off or come on too strong. Knowing himself, he could get too excited and push you too far before you were ready.

And then there were the headaches. And the lost time. He needed to find the cause of it. He needed to understand what was happening to him. Because the last thing he would want is to hurt you.

Pushing himself back up to his feet, he went over to the sink and turn the cold water on blast. He cupped some of the water in his palm and cooled off heat radiating from his neck. Icy droplets rolled down his back and over his shoulders. It helped, sparingly. He gave a single glance in the mirror before turning off the water and walking out of the bathroom.

He knew that going to his next class would be a useless action. Paying attention was out of the question. There were ways that he could catch up in his spare time. Right now, he needed to be in a place where he was both surrounded by people (to keep himself in check), and yet alone for his thoughts. So, he headed for the student union. The buzzing of a hundred conversations hit him as soon as he stepped through the doors. None of them were clear, too intermixed to be deciphered. Perfect. Now he just need to find an empty table in a corner and-

“Hey, Yixing!”

Yixing blinked, searching around for the one who had called his name.

Baekhyun was standing up in his seat, waving an arm back and forth to get Yixing’s attention. The latter sighed. Maybe this was better. Maybe being alone wasn’t a good idea after all.

Sitting with Baekyun was Chanyeol, Jongin, Sehun, and Kyungsoo. Jongdae, Yixing knew, was in class. However, Minseok was usually with them. He must have been somewhere off with his mate. A quick surge of jealous struck through Yixing’s veins, but he tampered it down quickly. Soon enough he would be there, too. Soon enough.

Careful to keep his face as neutral as his facial muscles would allow, Yixing headed over to the others, dragging a free chair over from a nearby table.

“Playing hooky?” Baekhyun teased.

“Just didn’t feel like going to class.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Nor the complete truth. The statement fell somewhere in the middle. Like most things he said these days.

“Are you sweating, hyung?” Sehun asked from the other side of the table.

Chanyeol sniffed several times. “You still smell like your body wash. Is everything okay?”

Jongin pointed at him. “Your collar’s wet.”

Yixing shifted in his seat. Was it too early to tell them? Was it news that he should share with Junmyeon first? He knew he would end up going to Minseok at some point. Who better to go with for advice than the one person who’s lived through it already? Maybe even Ji Yeon might have a few words of wisdom for him. All five of his brothers were staring at him, waiting for an explanation, fictitious or otherwise, for this out-of-character behavior.

“She’s in my new class.”

“Who is?” Chanyeol asked.

Yixing didn’t reply right away. The words were sticking to the tip of his tongue like fly paper. Maybe he should just say “never mind” and go on with his day. This wasn’t the right setting to share this information. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have waited until he got back to the farmhouse. He should have discussed this with Junmyeon and Minseok first. As much as he loved Baekhyun, he had a feeling this news would get back to the rest of the pack before he had a chance to tell them himself. Would Jongdae start to avoid him, too?

Before he had a chance to backtrack, Kyungsoo caught on. “Ah. You mean, her, don’t you?”

Yixing swallowed, the muscles in his throat contracting, making the motion difficult. Slowly, almost like a fishing bobber in the water, he nodded.

Letting out an exasperated scoff, Baekhyun hunched down in his seat. “This feels way too fast. I thought we would have time after Minseok until the next one.” He straightened up before leaning in close to Yixing. “Are you sure it’s your mate? Are you sure you just don’t think she’s really pretty?”

Yixing shook his head. “Minseok is right. The feeling is different. And immediate. It’s her.”

“Well, better you than me.”

“But think of the nice excuse it would give you to break up with Daisy?” Chanyeol teased.

“Who said I wanted to break up with her?”

“You did,” Kyungsoo deadpanned. “Last night.”

Baekhyun feigned being taken aback. “W-well, that was last night. I changed my mind. This morning.”

“I hope your mate gives you hell,”Jongin laughed. He turned to Yixing. “Is she pretty?”

Yixing didn’t dare fight the grin spreading across his face. He nodded eagerly. “Yes. Very. Very pretty.”

“So, you gonna tell Junmyeon?” Baekhyun asked.

“Of course. I will tonight. Back at the house.”

“At least we’ll get to see this play out more. I feel like we missed the good stuff with Minseok.”

“It’s not a movie for your entertainment,” Kyungsoo scolded.

Baekhyun simply shrugged, turning his attention back to the food in front of him. He’d gotten his teasing out of the way. Oddly enough, Yixing was feeling a little lighter. He hadn’t kept the secret long at all, but that was what a pack was for. They were there to keep you steady and to lean on when things grew tough. He could go to them for advice – well, some of them. Others were good for a laugh and help ease any weight that was baring him down. Each member had his strength, for which he was grateful. Three additional faces appeared, stopping him for a moment. But then Baekhyun started imitated one of his professors and Yixing was pulled away from the past and back to the present.

However, even as he smiled and laughed along with the others, one thing refused to leave him: Would you be safe? With his current… predicament, he worried about you. If anything were to happen to you – especially because of him – he would never be able to forgive himself.

Silently, he vowed that he would put an end to this rogue wolf – no matter who it was.

Perhaps walking wasn’t the best idea at the moment. It was chillier today; a cold front having moved in from somewhere out west overnight. The jacket you wore was thin, the wind sliding through the threads with more ease than water through a drain. But it seemed silly to take the bus with such a short distance between your apartment and the university campus. Certainly not worth the anxiety it would create.

Yes. It was good to walk. Good to get the exercise. And by the time you make it to the courtyard, you would be used to the cold. For now, you zipped the closure up to your chin and tucked your arms in as close to your chest as possible.

The campus felt like a ghost town when you arrived. Most of the students were taking refuge in the buildings, hiding from the wind between the walls decorated with tutoring flyers and motivational posters. Part of you thought to maybe do the same, to cut through the buildings to get a relief from the depressing weather, but that would take you longer. None of the buildings were straight shots. You could endure it. Or else, you could end up as another frozen statue on the grounds that would occasionally get covered in toilet paper or streamers by pranking students. At least you would actually look like something if that were to happen. Most of the artwork was of the abstract kind.

Not that that was a bad thing. Most of it was quite interesting. But it gave you a headache, turning and twisting your head to look at the statue from a new angle, the picture changing each time. You preferred less complicated, more obvious art. Old portraits or watercolor landscapes were the sections of the art museum you spent the majority of your time in. It didn’t need to be complicated to be art, in your opinion. Every new artist was trying to “say something”, which was fine. It was their art and they were allowed to do with it as they saw fit. You were just the kind of boring person who liked a pretty picture, no added thinking required.

Yes. Boring, indeed.

“(y/n)!”

You stopped walking, confused as to who could be calling your name. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the new boy from your human physiology class – Yixing. He was jogging up to you, cutting through the grass, not caring if the canvas fabric of his Converse ended up soaked. He was huffing only the slightest bit when he came to a stop beside you. The tiny corners of his lips were slightly turned upward. You’d only met him a few days ago. How could he be seemingly elated to see you?

“Hi.”

He wasn’t the least bit discouraged by your steely reception. “Are you on your way to class?” He pointed in the direction of the science building. You nodded. Lying would make you have to take a weird, long way to the classroom and even then, you couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t see you in the hall. Besides, after your first class you would be seeing him again, at the same table. “Can I walk with you?”

Those five little words sent a surge through your brain, frying the motherboard and sending you into disfunction. Why did he want to walk with you? Pound, pound, pound your heart was going in your ears. He was smiling broader now as he waited for your answer. Surely, there were better available options in girls to walk to class.

“Why?”

Your hand nearly snapped up to your forehead. Where! ‘Where is your class’ was the question you were meaning to ask. But your brain was too focused on why he was asking you that the signals got crossed somewhere and the wrong thing came out.

The smile faded. “Oh, um… I just saw you and thought that maybe if we were headed in the same direction….” He cringed, his hand reaching behind his head to scratch nervously at his scalp.

“Sure,” you said without giving yourself a prior warning.

The smile snapped back into place. “Okay. Great.”

Neither of you moved. You were sure that part of the idea of “walking to class together” included actually moving your feet, but you didn’t start heading towards the building. Yixing didn’t budge either. He kept smiling at you.

A sudden burst of icy wind picked up. The gust bit right through your jacket, causing you to shiver somewhat violently. Your teeth were still chattering even as it died down again.

“Are you cold?” Yixing asked worriedly.

“No, I’m fi-”

He ignored you as he slipped his bag off his shoulders and removed his much heavier bomber jacket. He draped the jacket over your shoulders and replaced his bag. Now he was left in only a black T-shirt, but he seemed unaffected by the cold. Not even goosebumps gave away if he was uncomfortable or not. “I hope that’s better.”

You were hit with an overwhelming pine scent. Normally you hated the smell. It reminded you of those old car air fresheners that would hang from the rearview mirror. But this particular type… it was a struggle not to breathe in deeper. You didn’t want to come off as weird.

Or, weirder that you already were.

“Thanks,” you said shyly, unable to meet his eye. “We, um, we should probably start… walking.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.”

The two of you finally headed for the science building. You each stepped in rhythm with the other, falling into the pattern with such a natural ease that it made you curious. Your nerves were on high alert around him, but not in a way that made you scared of him. Not the “he’s going to kill me” kind of nervous. Just… on edge. You weren’t sure why he was interested in you – whether platonically or something else, you hadn’t figured out yet. You weren’t the typical college student in your experiences. Anxiety over social gatherings tended to limit your outings. Not that you minded. You needed to keep up the good grades to get into the university you wanted and the extra time spent studying helped. Your family was your main social outlet, but you didn’t see anything wrong with that.

The bad thing was, you knew how your family reacted and came to decisions in most cases. That sense of familiarity was lost when it came to other people, so you never were quite sure how to read them.

“What’s your first class?” Yixing asked as the building came into view.

“Organic chemistry,” you replied. Not your best subject, if you had to admit it. Biology was more your strong suit. “What about you?”

Yes. Good counter question. A natural one to ask. Right?

A dusty pink bloomed on his cheeks. “Psychology.”

You frowned. Those classes weren’t held in the science building. Those types of classes were the rest of the therapeutic college – several buildings away. Pointing to the doors that the two of you were now stopped in front of, you said, “Then why-”

“I saw you and wanted to say hi.”

Okay, like stated earlier, you weren’t the best at reading strangers. But you could almost feel your aunt nudging you with her shoulder in her cheeky fashion. And you would have to agree with her, it did feel like there was an air of flirtation underneath the innocent sentence.

“You wanted to say ‘hi’?” you repeated

He scrunched up his shoulders guilty. “Yeah. I thought that – since we’re going to be partners for the rest of the semester – that it wouldn’t hurt to get to know each other?” His eyes flickered down to the cement and then back up at you. “Is that alright?”

That simple movement made your heart flutter. “I guess so.”

Not the exact answer he was hoping for, judging by his reaction. He released his breath through his nose and nodded, his lips puckering a small amount. “Okay. I’ll see you in class.” You weren’t given a chance to respond before he stepped around you and headed off.

Now you were the one who felt guilty.

All through class, you struggled to absorb the material more than usual. You felt like a jerk to someone who was only trying to be nice.

No. Nice wasn’t the right word to use. Polite seemed too small a word as well. His interest in getting to know you seemed genuine, sincere. You were the one quick to pull away. You couldn’t help it. And you had immediately regretted it, wishing you could rewind and try a different response. Yixing made you more nervous that usual, which only overloaded your brain even more.

By the end of class, you’d settled on apologizing. You’d practice the speech over and over again in your mind to make sure that it made sense and conveyed what you were sorry for. And hopefully didn’t create a bigger mess.

Since you were right around the corner, you made it to human physiology early. You took your time taking out your supplies and lined them up on your side of the table. Every few seconds your eyes would flicker to the door in eager anticipation. The students who flowed in were never him. Oh. Goodness. Had you made him so upset that he’d decided to skip class altogether rather than sit next to you?

That fear subsided when you saw him walk into view of the open door. A shorter boy was with him. They were chatting in a friendly manner in the hallway, smiling and laughing occasionally. Yixing didn’t seem to still be upset from your earlier send off.

The shorter one, wearing a backwards cap and t-shirt despite the cold (were males really that immune to dropping temperatures?), glanced into the classroom and made eye contact with you. He whispered something to Yixing, who in turn snuck a peek of his own. He nodded to the shorter boy. The latter nodded as well. He patted Yixing on the shoulder and then left.

Oh, wonderful. Now what had you done?

Your entire speech went diving out the window as Yixing walked into classroom and sat down in his seat.

“Hey,” he greeted, throwing you off even more with a smile.

You lifted your hand and gave a rather pathetic wave. “Hi.”

“Did you have fun in chemistry?” he asked. Everything about his mannerisms reflected his earlier legitimate interest. It was almost as if the parting earlier had only been a bad dream in your head and instead had ended amicably, with no signs of awkwardness.

You were starting to relax. That was another odd thing about Yixing. Though your nervous system was on the fritz, you also felt at ease, almost. Already, you were finding appropriate and - dare you say - charming responses to his inquires and jests. “As much fun as one can with unstable molecules.”

“Better the molecules be unstable rather than the professor.”

You laughed, using your hand to cover the sound and wide mouthed expression that came along with it. Yixing dipped his head to hide a proud grin of his own. The professor walked in at that moment. You scolded yourself for not going through your speech before class had started. Yixing had distracted you. It might feel as needed now, but you still felt the urge to say the words.

And that distraction was continuing on through the period.

He wasn’t doing anything in particular, besides simply existing. Occasionally while taking notes or flipping the pages of the textbook, his elbow would bump into yours. You would mouth “sorry” before dropping your eyes down to the paper. He never looked like he was annoyed or bothered by it. At one point, you wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

Like the last time, Professor Jiang assigned the review questions at the end of the chapter to be completed during the final fifteen minutes. It took you almost that entire time to figure out the answers. You had to keep flipping back through the chapter and skim the passages to find them. You were definitely going to have to make a note to review this later if any of it was going to stick.

“Are you done?” Yixing asked once he saw that your pencil was down.

“Yeah.” Your confidence in your answers wasn’t as high as last time. To your surprise, though, your answers were more or less the same as Yixing’s. Maybe something did get absorbed during the lecture.

Taking your paper, he shuffled it on top of his to show you that he would once again turn it in for you. A pattern was beginning to form, but you didn’t want to read into it too deeply.

Okay. It was now or never. Although, you’d forgotten large chunks of your speech, you were going to go through with it.

“Yixing?” You barely made it above a whisper, but he heard you anyway.

“Hm?”

“I just wanted to say that I was sorry. About earlier. I didn’t mean to make it look like I was trying to be rude or that I wasn’t appreciative of your….” You lost the word you were going to say. The others that you grasped on to made you cringe. Niceness? Politeness? Pity? Thankfully, Yixing didn’t need you to finish.

“It’s alright. I’m not upset. I realize that I might have come on too strongly.”

“No, no, you didn’t.”

“No, I’m sure I did. Next time, if you like walking alone, you can tell me to go away.”

You didn’t like the idea of telling him to go away. You actually kind of liked him walking you to class, now that you’d had time to reflect back on it. The gesture gave you the same vibe that teen romances had given you in high school; a strange fluttering that usually only existed in daydreams.

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you gave a silent reply in the form of a small smile. Yixing took it as a good sign like you meant it to be. Then you remembered the piece of clothing you still had of his. You started to sleep out of the sleeves, but Yixing stopped you.

“Keep it. It’s not going to get any warmer today.”

You could feel your face exploding with heat. What did that mean, exactly? Obviously, you understood the direct context, but was there another meaning behind his kind intention? Whispers erupted behind you before you could really think it through. You peeked over your shoulder to see two girls staring at you as they spoke softly to each other. Their volume was too low for you to make out what they were saying, but their eyes said enough. A few flickers toward Yixing and it was easy to interpret: they were trying to figure out why someone like him was acting this way towards you.

Curious as to what had stolen your attention, Yixing looked back at the girls as well. At their continued whispering, he narrowed his eyes and then shifted his stool closer to you. It felt… protective, almost possessive. Not in a way that made you want to lean away. It was more like he was silently standing up for you. The girls immediately snapped their mouths closed and pulled out their phones. Yixing caught your eye one more time, making you smile. Professor Jiang called time on the period and you found yourself very unwilling to move from that spot. And, it seemed, neither was Yixing.

Yixing ran through the trees with pure giddiness and elation flowing through his fur.

Things couldn’t have gone better this past week and a half. You were opening up to him more, talking to him without long pauses in between and letting him walk you to classes, even if they were in the opposite direction of his own. You hadn’t given him his jacket back, but he took that as a wonderful thing. He wouldn’t have taken it back anyway. There were still things that you were holding onto, things that you hadn’t let slip in your conversations. That hardly deterred him. It would take time. These things didn’t just happen. Eventually you would let him in all the way and he would show you his true self. It was only a matter of-

Yixing stopped. Out of nowhere, his vision had blurred, blackspots covering bits of the forest. He wavered from side to side as he tried to regain his footing. The tree shifted back and forth like a teeter-totter. He pushed himself forward. He needed to get back to the house. But only a few steps and his head exploded with pain. He whimpered and, after a minute or so, he fell to the ground and the blackness took over.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo college au #exo college!au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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alice-angel12x · 4 years ago

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☁ Drider!Shouto x reader

Dystopian AU/ Monster AU

[Sorry if shouto is a bit ooc]

The world fell into ruin when the all powerful All For One took over all of japan. He took control of everything, and who ever dared defy him would face a horrible fate. Once he had control he shapped society the way he found entertaining. It's not like they could stop him. He had a large following that helped spread his rule and terror. Those who had a transmitter, or transformation quirk were safe. They were treated like people or held in higher regards. Those who had mutation quirk were called monsters and were locked away.

So All For One seperated people. Those who were safe where human. Brainwashing them into believing they were better then those monsters. Those who were Mutated were teated like wild and unpredictable animals, The monsters. They were mocked, humiliated, tortured, and locked away from the pretty cities, and only human Capitals. Some were unfortinate to be born with a mutation quirk, but some were forced to have this fate by All For One. By curing people with said quirks, some were criminals, rebels, or innocents to show his power. Those who are 'lucky' just get their quirk taken and turned into a slave.

What about those who were quirkless you ask. Well... They are slaves.

____

Just outside of the grand Capital, there was a large Dome loomed over the forest. It covered 50 miles worth of land. Inside was a forest, a river, rock hills, cliffs, and caves. Inside were the monsters. This is were they are locked away, and put into their natural habitat. Left to starve, except the occasional 'mouse' that was let inside for them to feed on. With no other food they are left with no choice. As the mouse tries to run and hide the monsters hunt it down and devour them. This hunt is recorded and broadcast all over the cities. As a sick entertainment for the rich, Powerful, and citizens. But for the quirkless slave or the mice it is a form of warning to stay in line and to know our place.

___

"Oh looks like our little mouse could not out run that pack werewolf," the commentator said with so much enthusiasm in his voice.

"Yeah John looks like he's dog food now," John's partner joked.

The slaves all watched in horror, as they watched their friend get eaten alive. The quirkiness were all in their cages and forced to catch the monitor, as a constant reminder that soon that will be their fate. To become a meal, a mouse for sent to die for entertainment.

"They ate Ochaco," a close friend of hers sobbed.

I didn't know her personaly, but she was a really nice girl. She didn't deserve to go out the way she did. I sat in my cage, trembling as I watched the carnage. Denki, Momo, Jirou, Sero, and know Ochaco.

They were all the unfortunate mice picked. I survived another month. Sadly my luck ran out the next month.

"Haha this little rat will do," said a gaurd as he opened my and quickly grabbed me.

I tried to struggle and break free from him, but something hard hit the back of my head. I blacked out.

........

"Welcome back everybody, it's that time again. Our favorite little game of survival. Today our lovely little mouse this month is Y/n L/n. A bit on the petite side, could probably squeeze tight spaces. She's a pretty face, it's sad it's wasted on a mouse. Well place your bets now folks. Who will she find herself being eaten by," John the host said with a laugh.

I opened my eyes to see that I was in a forest. It seemed go on forever, but quickly relieazed where I was. I was inside the dome.

"Jeff sound the dinner bell!" John said as the sound of the air horn filled the dome.

I ran, I didn't know where I just ran into the forest. There was no point in banging on the door. No one was going to answer. So I ran through the forest till I saw a clearing. The same clearing were Ochaco was eaten. I came to a halt right at the edge of the forest. I hesitated as flashed of Ochaco's mangled corpse appeared in my head.

Suddenly I heard growling behind me. I turned to see the pack of werewolves. The leader was a ashy blond with spiky hair and blood red eyes. I slowly started to back away, as he took a step foward.

"Sorry, nothing personal. Were just starving and everyone needs to eat," a red headed werewolf said with a sorrowful look on his face.

"Kirishima shut up! Lets just make this quick before some other monster gets her," said the leader.

"Bakugou, could you be a little more sensitive," Kirishima said bitterly.

"Yeah, well your sensitivity almost cost us last time," Bakugou shot back.

While They were arguing, I quickly made a run for it. Dying by werewolves is probably the worst way to go. I could hear them give chase once they relieazed I ran. Just beyond the open field was tall grass. I managed to loose the wolves, as I came across willow tree by a lake. I stoped their to take a break, when I heard hissing.

Looking up into the tree was a Naga. He had green hair and eyes to match his green tail. He was skinny and so malnourished he didn't have the strength to move anymore. I quickly left that spot and kept moving, till I came across some caves.

It was almost night and it started to get dark. So I went inside the cave, to learn to late that what is a hole in the ground three steps in. I fell into the darkness and blacked out.

_____

Dark and lonely. Thats what I would describe my life to be. A lonley spider in cave.

While the other people in the some wait for their next meal I'm working on making my way out of this hell hole. As I continued to dig my tunnel when I felt my webs vibrate, something fell into my webs.

I slowly made my way over to the cave entrance, surprised too see a unconscious girl tangled in my webs. She had soft silky h/c hair, and smooth s/c skin. I slowly started to inspect her entirely. As I did I found a mouse brand burned onto her skin.

Like me, a monster brand was burned on my side. I untangled her and placed her down softly on the ground. She felt So warm in my arms, I almost didn't want to let go. So I took her deep within the caves, too hide her from the monsters. But also to keep her here, with me.

___

I slowly started to wake up, as I sat up I found my self in a cave. Looking down I was laying on some sort of silk thread, or web. Actually the whole room was covered in webs. I slowly started to stand and started to rip the remaining webs on me.

Suddenly I heard something crawling. Then I saw it a Drider, though I never saw one before. He had half red and half white hair, with a big hurn on the left side of his face, all over his body he bore scars, and on the right side of his chest was the monster brand burned on his skin.

"Umm, hello," I said as I slowly sat back down. He did block my only exit.

"Hello.... I'm suprised your not screaming, or trying to escape," he said bluntly with a neutral face.

"Well your blocking my only exit, and even if I scream no one is gonna hear me so, yeah... I'm y/n by the way," I said as I held out my hand.

"Umm, I'm shouto the Drider," he said simply slowly shaking my hand.

"So.. Umm, why did you spare me. I thought you would be hungry like the other people up there?" I said looking up at the ceiling.

"Well I have a slow matabalizem, so it takes a while for me to get hungry. I.. I was just lonely," he said with with a light blush.

"Oh... O-okay, I'd be happy to

acompany you, shouto," I said with a smile.

Shouto seemed stuned at first as he seemed to just stare at me for a bit. Suddenly it seemed his eyes began to water, then he pulled me into a tight hug. As he did he stood up to his full hight, which lifted me a few feet of the ground. I slowly and hestitanly returned his hug. His spider half looked like it was an albino verson of a black widow.

As I was studying I could hear him smelling me... It was weird but I didn't say anything. Suddenly I heard a buzzing noise.

____

I could hear them. The humans flying spies, they were looking for Y/n. Gently placing y/n down on the nest, I went to investigate.

I saw it the flying cameras. I quietly sneaking up behind it and quickly smashing it with a rock. They weren't going to take my friend away from me.

-----

As the weeks went by Y/n and Shouto got closer and closer. Y/n would help with Shouto's tunnel, and sometime shouto would go out to the surface to bring berries for y/n. She would clean up any wounds Shouto would gain.

As the weeks went on y/n became more, and more weak. The berried weren't enough to sustain her. She could even afford to move or spend any energy, or she will starve even more. So in desperation, Shouto worked on the tunnel even more. Till he finally did it, he finally tunneled his way outside the dome.

Quickly and quietly he scools y/n into his arms and escapes from this hell. Shouto travled for days, getting as far away from the city, and the dome as possible. When they finally settled down, high up in a tall tree, Shouto went out and hunted down a strong stag.

Cooking it and feeding it to y/n. As time went on y/n did regain her strength.

_____

I slowly crawled down the tree with y/n in my arms. I was so nerves, always worrying if somethi g would come and take y/n away.

We finally made it to the ground , and I let y/n down. She stood still for awhile then she started to.. Roll around on the ground with a wide a smile.

"Were free Shouto. It feels so good," she exclaimed as she jumped up and hugged me.

"Y/n... Thank you for staying with me. Even when you were close to dying. I never want to lose you, and I treasure you, Y/n," I said as is quickly pulled her into a passonite kiss.

And I was happy went she slowly melted into my kiss. This is my paradise. She is my Utopia.

#monster au #shoto torodoki #bnha shoto #shoto x reader #fluff #mha x reader #bnha

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mommymooze · 4 years ago

Text

Grand ReOpening

Hubert x Reader 5,613 words

descriptions of violence, possession, Modern AU

You work at the newly remodeled and soon to be reopened Museum of History in Enbarr. A huge fire caused devastating damage to the old building, over half of the structure had to be rebuilt from the ground up. Donations pour in from private collectors in the form of money and items to replace those lost to the flames.

You finish arranging the items in the display finally locking the door on the huge glass case. Some items donated were questionable. Everything in this case is legitimate, you reassure yourself. You have already weeded out the fakes, the near perfect imitations. The director asks you how do you know? You explain to him the materials available for crafting such items, known specifics from inventories found in the locked away historical books, too delicate to be placed upon display. Sometimes you tell him you just have a feeling deep inside based on your experience and knowledge of the period. You can’t tell him the truth.

Whenever you touch one of these items, you close your eyes, the history of the item and its owners flash through your mind. It is easy to bypass the collectors, the ones that shove an item in drawers or hang it on a wall as a decoration for years at a time. The imprint left on the item when it was handled, touched, used is what you are able to see most clearly.

The small silver dagger in the upper left of the case. Its card reads: Dorothea Arnault owned this fine silver dagger. It is small enough to conceal in multiple places upon the body. Perhaps she may have concealed it in the curls of her hair for a ball or tucked it away in her corset or bodice.

They write the cards to romanticize the exhibit. People want a good story, not simply a display of stuffy items from long ago. Who would want to read a card stating she kept this particular dagger tucked into a pocket in her left boot for many years, which is exactly what you saw when you touched it.

Metal rimmed reading glasses belonging to the Imperial Spy Master, Hubert von Vestra. The card: Perhaps he wore them while brewing one of his poisons or when translating encoded messages during the war. Hah. He did not obtain these until fifty years old and mostly wore them when reading a book that struck his fancy prior to retiring for the evening.

Ferdinand von Aegir’s opera glasses. The Card: Fine mother-of-pearl covered opera glasses belonged to the Imperial Prime Minister, Ferdinand von Aegir. He may have used them when going to the Mittlefrank Opera house to watch Dorothea perform. Nope. Mother gave him these when he was but a child. Once he was older, after the war, he purchased a pair that much better suited his face, these were much too small for him as an adult.

Oh my, you’ve lost track of the time again. You scurry out of the building, making certain all doors lock behind you. Making it home just in time to change clothes, freshen up, you head back out for the Museum’s Grand Reopening Gala. Thankfully you are not on the front lines, that is the duty of the Curator, the Directors, those on the board and anyone responsible for schmoozing the rich guests, many who donated to the cause, keeping them happy. You put on your headset and have three laptops at your disposal, ready to answer any questions the staff has regarding particular items on display. You are literally fielding questions left and right. To the left are the searches for the director’s queries, to the right the Curator. In the center you follow on the security monitors where they are standing helping you to identify which particular item they need additional information about. Well past midnight you are finally allowed to leave. Security escorts you to your car and you head home for a well deserved sleep.

Two days later is the Grand Reopening. The tickets sold out three months in advance. The most devoted history fans always line up first to observe and breathe in the milieu. Listening to them mill about the displays, pour over the cases of preciously preserved objects is a joy for you.

“Look, this mirror belonged to the Emperor herself. I wonder what these items could say if they could speak. Did they reflect her face as she finished her makeup before one of the grand balls at the time, I wonder?” You knew the answers to some of their ponderings and could not hide your smirk.

A very tall dark haired male catches your eye. Dark suit jacket, black satin shirt, very nicely tailored. His jet black hair blocks the right side of his face from view. His fine leather gloves barely hover over the display case as he observes the items contained within. It suggests a hint of cosplay? Or perhaps he is attempting to channel the spirit of Lord Vestra? Your eyes sweep about the room regularly, spotting him in several different locations, each time it appears he is studying items that had belonged to the man he resembles. You wish you could see his face more clearly, however his back is turned or someone is in the way. You quietly move towards the end of the circuit the floor plan leads you through, close to the guard by the exit. There are three items of clothing belonging to Hubert this person would probably pause to examine, perhaps you can obtain a good look at his face then.

Finally, you glance through two panes of glass to see the face of the man. There is a strong resemblance to Hubert. Not exact, of course, but the cheek bones were close, the eyes are a similar shade of green. His skin tone is much darker, not nearly as pale. Your attention is taken away as the security guard a few feet from you is asked a question by an older woman.

Your focus is then called in front of you as a polite “Ahem” is noted. Standing directly before you and requesting your notice is none other than the tall dark gentleman that you have been secretively following for the last 30 minutes.

“My apologies. Not to be a bother, but I believe that you work here and would like to ask your opinion about something.” His long slender gloved fingers reach into his breast pocket, pulling out a golden box about the size of a cigarette case, barely a centimeter thick. His thumb activates a button on the case and the lid pops open revealing a dull yet clean looking folded yellowed cloth. The initials H.v.V. are sewn in black thread close to the bottom edge. The cloth is folded in a different manner than it normally lies in order to display the initials on top.

You raise your right hand up to the level of the box which is even with your chin. Touching the material with an index finger you feel the violence connected with the item, fainting straightaway.

You find yourself in the employee’s lounge with two security officers and the strange man. He is seated at a table nearby, you are located pleather covered chaise lounge, reclined. Bolting upright on the lounger, you gather your senses about you. The security officers called for EMT’s to check you out. Fortunately, you were unconscious for maybe a minute or less. You flush bright red and blame it on ‘female issues’. They insist that you remain and be checked out.

“I am terribly sorry. I assisted in bringing you back here and now that I know you are well cared for, I shall excuse myself.” The stranger stands to leave. You reach in your pocket, thrusting your business card toward him. He completes the exchange by handing you his. As he returns to the public areas of the museum the EMT’s arrive and begin their 1,000 questions.

After every possible vital statistic can be taken and recorded, they finally leave you to yourself and the security of the museum. They nod in agreement that it was most likely ‘female issues’ and you should increase your iron intake. Once you finally convince your boss that you are well enough to leave, you get in your car, grab some drive thru dinner and head directly home.

A warm cup of tea, comfortable clothing and your soft couch beneath you, you take a deep breath and begin to relax. You mull over what happened when you touched the handkerchief. That sort of reaction is expected when you touch weapons used in the war, used for self-defense, etcetera. You did not expect that from a handkerchief. The cloth was normally soaked in a strong smelling agent and held over the face of his target. Too early for ether, most likely mandrake root. Normally it would cause the target to quickly become unconscious, occasionally it would cause illness along with and possibly but not always death. One of Hubert’s weapons in the darkness, when silence was required.

You pull out the business card. Vincent H. Vestraegir. Hmmm. Possibly from the line of descendants. You enter his number and name into your phone, then text it.

You: I gave you my card at the museum. Do you still wish to discuss the

item?

Waiting for approximately 20 minutes you hear the notification tone.

V.H.V: Absolutely. Perhaps meet for coffee? Thursday or Saturday?

You: Thursday. Crown Café, 10am, after the morning rush has cleared.

V.H.V: Agreed. See you then.

Working on your day off, as usual. You log onto the Museum’s Employee website to check your email, the top notification is from your supervisor telling you that you will take a few days for yourself. The success of the reopening is greatly due to your hard work and you will take the rest of the week off. See you Saturday.

Well, well, you may get some sleep after all. After a fitful night of restlessness and strange dreams you awaken Thursday morning feeling overtired. It would be in poor taste to cancel the meeting, so you get up, showered and dressed. You decide that since you are doing this basically for free for this man, you have no obligation to him and refuse to dress up. Wearing your hair in a messy pony tail, GMU sweatshirt and jeans you head to the coffee shop a bit early. Hopefully you can get a full cup into you and wake up before he arrives.

You order a coffee double shot and finish it quickly. Bathroom, order new regular coffee, take a seat and it’s 9:50am. In the corner of your eye you see him walking past the café’s front window. This makes you smile, but you are not certain why.

He takes his seat across from you at 9:59am.

“Good morning” you greet him casually.

“Same to you.” He says, placing his phone face down on the table. He wears a long sleeve black turtleneck, fine dress pants, and black gloves.

“Please tell me what history you know of the handkerchief.” You request.

“Skipping pleasantries, straight to business, eh?” His lip curls at the edge of his mouth on the right side. “See if I pick you up off the floor the next time you faint.”

You roll your eyes.

He clears his throat. “There are several items that have been kept within the family. I do not understand the meaning behind them, why they are kept in separate or specific locations within the family residence or what significance they mean to particular members of the family. My family history appears to go through highs and lows, the most recent low is turning around, getting back toward recovery.” He pauses, enjoying his coffee for a moment. “My mother recently passed and I am now in possession of the family estate. I have not had much time to go through the property, my work is my priority. I have no intention of living there and have considered selling it. There are few things I plan on keeping for myself, the rest may go to the museum should you be able to find a use for them. I noticed at the exhibition there were some unusual items on display that I do not normally recall seeing in museum exhibitions.”

Quaffing your coffee, you take a breath. “I am sorry for your loss. The museum is changing its thought process. People are more interested in seeing the everyday life of those from history. The differences are always blown out of proportion, romanticized, too large to be true. The current exhibition is displaying the things of everyday life, to show these were not only persons held in high regard, but also humans with human needs, feelings, emotions. I agree with some of this, however there are personal items that I question if they would really want to have displayed.”

Mr. Vestraegir thinks on these last remarks, savoring the remainder of his caffeinated beverage. “Why are you concerned about the feelings of the dead? It is not as if they can come to you and complain.”

“Let us say this afternoon you are struck dead by lightning. The funeral is held in three days. Open casket. You are dressed in a white tuxedo, no gloves upon your hands. How would you feel about that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Preposterous!” He blurts out. “I would insist on having gloves on and I have an ample amount of perfectly adequate black dress suits.”

“Why should be concerned with the feelings of the dead again? Why is it that you wear gloves? The weather is certainly warm enough they are not needed. You are extremely familiar with wearing them.”

“Hmm.” He nods in understanding, rubbing one gloved hand upon the other.

“You do have me intrigued. It is difficult to find pieces of history still standing today. It has been hundreds of years.” You wonder aloud.

“The original structure has been incorporated into the current structure. At one point walking through a corridor it feels as if you are stepping backward in time. Quite an unusual feeling.”

“When do you plan on returning there next?” You ask, thinking of your full calendar.

“In the next day or so. I want to go through some things personally prior to the movers bringing the more recently purchased furniture here.”

“I would like to accompany you to the estate. If you like, I can drive us there this afternoon. I need only to pack an overnight bag and a few items for research. My guess is you do not have internet there?”

“No.” He answers. You would have to use your phone. Not all of the house has electric, so you may wish to bring some flashlights or long extension cords as well.

Fantastic, less disturbance to the original structure you ponder. “I can pick you up in an hour if that suits you?”

He nods and it is a blur from there. Rushing home, packing, picking him up at the duplex at the address he provides. Stashing his items in the trunk you are headed to the highway.

Vincent as he prefers to be called, tells you what information he knows of the Vestra Estate. He had lived there for the first years of his youth. He and his father did not get along well and mother abided by fathers wishes. By the time he turns 12 he is sent to boarding school, graduating straight into college. Finishing his degree in law minor in accounting, he is an atty and CPA/Accountant.

There may be a few books at the property that have a bit of history in them, he’s never had much interest.

A brief stop at the store close to the house, you purchase groceries. Simple premade sandwiches, a few frozen dinners, drinks and snacks. As you wait in the car you suddenly realize you have driven far from the city with a perfect stranger, not even leaving a trail of where you are or who you are with. The perfect setting for a murder. How stupid! You quickly drop an email to your landlord, advising of your destination and how long you expect to be gone. You hesitate and do not leave Vincent’s name, that would only lead to more questions from her as she is determined to set you up with a nice bachelor.

Another 30 minutes and your car is pulling into the long driveway, the large house comes into view. He unlocks the door to show you in. He really doesn’t know much of the history of the place, it had never interested him. The two of you unload the car and he has you place your things in his mother’s old bedroom, located in a newer section of the house that has electric and running water. He goes back to the kitchen to work on groceries.

Beds are so personal. You take a breath and complete the touch. Trying to keep your mind focused on the edge of your vision. Fortunately, it is a newer bed and does not take long to complete. You will be fine sleeping here.

Vincent invites you to the more modern kitchen and the location of the food, coffee, and sundried items. He has a few things to attend to, leaving you free rein of the house to explore. He will get to specifics later tonight or in the morning.

He is absolutely correct about the corridor, they had built on to the house in multiple stages. You enter through the most recent and modern additions. The corridor seems to reach back further and further.

You slowly walk down the walls touching each section. Perceiving people passing through the corridors fill your vision, styles of clothing changing as you progress. You touch the doorframe of a small bedroom in an older portion of the house. The faces of the occupants quickly parade before you. You will the flow to slow, a young girl clings to a doll, nodding with tears in her eyes. Then the next owner, a young male perhaps ten years old with hair to his shoulders, citrine eyes. His brows are furrowed, and he is shouting, but you cannot hear what he says, anger written all over his face, his brows furrow deeply as if he argues with someone just behind you. The door appears as he is slamming it shut. Was that Hubert? Could this have been his room, you wonder. The room is decorated with old wallpaper with a feminine print. The coat of dust on the few furnishings reveals that the room has not been used or tended to for many, many years. The curtains on the window are of a thin lace, possibly being held together by the spider webs covering them, the bottom inches shredded threads.

The mantel of the fireplace and baseboards are the only pieces painted. The rest is left to the beauty of the original wood and bricks. Running your hands over the bricks at the edge of the fire box you see countless hands stacking wood, lighting the kindling, flames beginning to burn bright in the small firebox. Finally, you see older gloved hands, incredibly long fingers waving as fire bursts from their fingertips into the kindling. There are gaps until much younger but long spindly fingers cast magic into the wood creating flames.

Touching the firebricks making up the fireplace you reach out to the bottom bricks. On the right, the furthest one back is loose. A bit of maneuvering and you pull the block from its wedged in position. Three bottles lie on their sides. Without thinking you reach in to grab them. Hubert’s face comes into view, laughing with the bottles in hand. These are definitely his poison bottles, contents long dried. His handwriting on the side, coded of course, one is foxglove, the next mandrake and last is nightshade. A small paintbrush is also in the hollowed space. Removing the item provides visions of blades and darts being painted, and then the interior of a teacup.

Diabolical bastard. You admire him and hate him both at the same time. The Empire would not have won the war without him, however you did not need to firsthand witness his secrets. Sitting on the floor you catch your breath. The daylight is fading and you need to go back to your bag and set up lights and a flash light.

The room is different in the too bright halogen light. Rubber gloves in your pockets, in case something more lethal is found are at the ready. You begin touching the floorboards with your bare feet. You will notice if any has a special significance of course. Only after moving the bed and the rug that is beneath it do you find something. (the bed is approximately 300 years old, mostly for children, same with the rug.) A pocketknife blade at a corner edge and the board lifts quite easily. Several items are stashed between the supports for the floor. Gloves on and flashlight in hand you reach in and remove the items, placing them in a large clear plastic bag. You replace the floorboard and return the bed and rug to its normal position.

“Keeping yourself entertained?” Victor chuckles as he enters the room.

“Found a few things. Haven’t had a chance to look them over yet.” You say as you take the halogen lamp to the next room to inspect.

“I can make it easy for you as far as what few things I know.” He offers. “You’ve already been under the floorboard there. Next the master bedroom.” He turns that direction and you follow him with the light, dragging the extension cord behind you. He steps until he hears a hollow spot at a floorboard by the head of the bed, taking out his pocket knife, he lifts the board out of place, then steps back for you to see.

Bringing the flashlight you see a jacknife and several gold coins. You pick them up with your gloves on and place them into a separate plastic bag.

“That is all I know. I found the floorboard when I was much younger, so of course I had to stomp on every floorboard after that listening for hollow sounds.” He grins.

“Quite logical, actually.” You nod. “As a boy I am surprised that you left them here.”

He coughs. “There were more coins, I did leave some.” He looks away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

You both decide to stop searching for the evening. You’ve not had dinner yet and tomorrow is another day. Besides, you want to investigate the floorboard items further as well as show him the items found behind the fireplace.

Dinner is quickly tossed into a microwave, coffee brewed and laptops pulled out onto the kitchen table, connected to the internet via the cell phones. Both of you sit quietly, only forks scraping plates or fingers tapping on keyboards for an hour.

Closing your laptop, you place a soft towel on top and the first bag with the items from the fireplace. Wearing a glove on your right hand you take each item out of the bag, placing them on the towel.

“There were owned and handled by Hubert. I believe them to be bottles of his own poison. The brush is used to paint it upon his weapons, mostly daggers.” You relay to your tablemate.

Vincent’s eyes go wide. “You’ve just seen them. How can you swear to their authenticity?”

“The appearance matches what you would find from the time. The writing on the bottles closely resembles his handwriting from the samples we have at the museum, and the code is correct for three different poison types. The brush appears to be animal hair that would be used at the time, stuffed into the end of a tube and then crimped to hold the hair tight.”

Taking a small box of plastic bags, you pack each item individually. As you reach for the third bottle it tips over and rolls off of your laptop. You grab it with your left hand and read its history. Your eyes focus as Vincent’s fingers are snapping in your face.

“Come on, are you all right?” He questions.

“Um, yes.” You shake your head a bit, placing the item in a bag and back into the larger bag with the other items.

“Are you epileptic? You spaced out there. Please let me know if you have health issues.” Vincent pleads, the concern is heavy in his voice.

“It…it’s hard to explain.” You want to tell him something. You’re never this open with people, but he makes you feel like it is okay to let him know.

“Go on.” He says waiting patiently.

“I can see some things related to a history of an item just by touching it. I see who used it, how long ago it was when used. Yes. I must be crazy.” You nod quickly after your confession.

“I want to see it work.” He frowns, two wrinkles between his eyebrows get deeper. He stands and goes to a drawer, pulling out a large spoon and a knife. Both appear to be silver, one more tarnished and scraped that the other. He places them on the laptop.

You grab the spoon. You see his mother’s hand stirring long yellow beans in a pot before pouring a creamy sauce onto them, then it changes to different people, an older stove, another older stove. A black ceramic stove stirring gravy in a large heavy skillet.

“Your mother liked to use it for cooking yellow beans. It has been here for several hundred years, at least 300 based on the dress of the last man who had a beard was dressed.”

He looks down at the table and thinks a moment. “She loved wax beans. They look like green beans but taste a bit different. She would cook them in a sour and creamy sauce. She said the spoon was in the family for a long time. Now the knife.”

Taking the silver knife in your fingers it shows she used it nearly every day to put butter on rolls with jelly. There was a lot of time in the drawer, different users. Clothing styles changed. The age of the silver butterknife is closer to 450 or 500 years old.

You share your findings.

“I’m still not convinced.” Vincent reaches into his shirt, and pulls out a gold necklace with a ring hanging from it. A simple gold band with its necklace is placed with hesitation on the laptop. As he places it there your hand brushes against his glove.

“Your gloves are four months old, purchased at Baers and the saleslady had red hair. Just saying.” You clear your throat and take a sip of now too cold coffee.

Reaching for the ring your fingers touch it softly. Your mind is filled with its memories. He has it with him all the time, takes it off for nothing, then you see the crash, blood everywhere. You fall headfirst into the table. Vincent helps you sit back up in your seat as tears are streaming from your face.

“I…I am so sorry for your loss.” You choke and gasp as the tears fall from your eyes. “M-motorcycle crash. Five years ago. He would bring you little yellow flowers he picked from the side of the road.”

Vincent’s face lost all color. A tear fell to his cheek as he nodded. He took the necklace back and put it around his neck.

After a while he took the cups to the sink, “I think it is time to sleep.”

You nod and head to bed. For hours you lay there, unable to sleep as your mind plays back the last nine years of Vincent and his husband’s lives, together and apart. You should have refused to touch it, but you wanted him to believe. And now…now. You shake your head, turn over and stare at the wall again.

The alarm on your phone wakes you. You want to flee, leave this place. It is one thing when someone shares with you tragedies in the past, it is another to have them thrust upon you. You push yourself out of bed. You can make it through today. Once in the kitchen the coffee has just finished you reach to grab a cup. Seeing the two in the dish drainer, you carefully pick out the cup you used yesterday.

You find a note on the table that he has gone for a walk and to go through the boxes he has left in the living room. Grabbing a muffin from the counter you head to the boxes. Wearing glove you begin. A few interesting books, certainly a possibility to go into a collection, many of them simply too modern or of no interest to the museum in their current condition. A box of random items haphazardly placed into a wooden box. Some woodworking tools, chisels, a pocket watch that did not work but was several hundred years old. A coffee grinder, you would definitely need to check that out. Taking that and the watch you sit at the kitchen table. One by one you experience the history of the items. The pocket watch came from approximately 1300. The coins from the floor and jack knife were owned by Hubert’s father, Marquis Vestra. The coffee grinder, broken by a child, had belonged to Hubert at one time well after the war, during his retirement.

The bags from the child’s bedroom revealed two very different groups of items. Vincent himself had placed items in a pocket next to the ones he had originally discovered. Thinking they were a time capsule, he created one of his own including a letter about his 9 year old self, a green plastic army man named Lt. Schwartz, a yo yo and a few baseball cards. The other group of items were from a young girl. A cloth doll with a few wisps of hair still left on its head. A tiny gold ring. A slate and stylus used for writing letters and numbers, the wax long eaten away. A small carved wooden horse.

Deciding to see if there is anything in the last room as well as completing your inspection of the master bedroom, you take your half cup of coffee with you down the hallway. Coming to the end of the corridor, you hear a sound behind you. Turning slowly, you see the countenance of Hubert von Vestra walking toward you. Outfitted in his full Imperial dress uniform, his large stiff collar extends several inches up from his shoulders. A ruby red brooch holds down his cravat. You drown in the sound of leather creaking from his belts on his clothes and the swish of the heavy material of his jacket. His boots create a deep a thunking sound echoing down the hallway.

“Finally.” He says with great satisfaction. “It has been an eternity.” His right hand, void of gloves, reaches out to you, fingertips softly stroking your cheek. His pale skin is cool to the touch, it has always been that way, you think to yourself. He opens his arms welcoming you to be wrapped within them. Burying your nose in his chest you deeply inhale the familiar scent of coffee, parchment, ink and dark magic. How you have longed for this.

“What of Vincent?” you ask him, looking up into his beautiful yellow-green eyes sparkling down at you.

“We have come to an agreement.” Hubert chuckles.

The vibration of his chest, his deep laughter sends chills down your spine. After waiting nearly a thousand years to have him back in your arms the reward is so worth it.

Epilogue:

Each lifetime you searched for him, but your journeys were fruitless. This girl was the most cooperative, the most willing. You found her worse than Bernadetta in some aspects of her life, especially social. She shared this body, watching from behind, creating stories in her mind. You take control and immediately begin your plan. The museum holds his property, perhaps by touching these items you can call to him. Send a signal that you are here. But they would not let you touch the things that belonged to him. The display items you could reach, touch, were not his, only beautiful recreations. Even items held in storage at the museum were not his. You had developed a spell to obtain the history of an item by touch.

It was awful that you had to burn down part of the museum, but you needed access and you needed legitimate items. What people wouldn’t do to have their name on a placard as a donor. From the items donated several very real items were found. You found yourself touching them frequently, just to catch another glimpse of him. Your cohabitant could not take the violence, she caused you to faint so frequently. Perhaps now she may finalize her agreement with you, being released and then you and Hubert can finally have the lifetime together that was stolen from you during that horrible war.

You spoke often of death, war does that. Both agreed to move on and live the best life they could. Finding out Ferdinand was at his side made you happy, especially since it made him happy. Still, he had promised that no matter what, he would find you again and finish what was started. And so the rest of your lives begins…

#fe3h #fe16 #feth #fe3h x reader #fe16 hubert von vestra #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem three houses #hubert von vestra

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baekberrie · 5 years ago

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☀️rooftop pt.4 ➣bbh☀️

☀️Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, bakery & island! au

☀️Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader/ oc

☀️Previous - Next

☀️Updates every: Wednesday night🌙

You only spread before me

I'm colored with you

You fill my heart

Baby, I will love you till kingdom come...

Not even a second into the kitchen and Mrs.Byun was already in front of the girl, throwing the apron around her neck and waist and tying it with a knot before hurriedly ushering her to her usual spot. On the counter was a recipe already prepared and ready to be followed. Sleep had until she entered the kitchen, still been in her senses, though, the frantic Mrs. Byun had been enough to shake her from the dazed state. She was, to say the least, a bit startled but rolled up her sleeves and started working nonetheless. Both Mrs. and Mr. Byun were speeding all over the bakery, serving and yelling out orders. The stress was visible not only in them but also in the other employees barely keeping up at the owners' tempo. The girl was only halfway into her dough when Baekhyun suddenly appeared next to her with a ready dough that he was about to shape into buns.

Shyly, the two of them stole a small glance at each other from beneath their lashes, having their eyes meet unexpectedly. That made a very soft smile form on Baekhyun's pink lips as he wished her a good morning, and really, just the mere whisper of his beautiful voice in the morning was enough to make her feel like this day was going to be the best one of her life.

The swelling of her heart was too strong for her to ignore, a beam painted itself on her face and she fully directed it to the black-haired boy by her side, her eyes reflected with his beautiful figure as she let them dance all over him. Taking in his fair and milky skin, his slender hands and pink fingertips, his sparkling blue orbs. Once more, her heart stuttered when Baekhyun allowed her to view the way that his smile widened. Baekhyun had recently started smiling more often- and although she loved that fact, she could really not seem to get used to it. The way it triggered her heart every time, she had no idea what to do about it. Deep down, she was aware of what it was about, but she wasn't going to let her heart acknowledge the truth just yet. Ever since that night at the beach, she had been at her happiest, she liked to say that Baekhyun had finally let her in, perhaps not completely, but just enough.

Nowadays he greeted her with a sweet smile every morning, sometimes he'd come to the rooftop with freshly baked buns for her to have at breakfast and they would eat it together in the most comfortable of silences. He would always come with her to do groceries, insisting that she would get lost although that had by now become an old story. She knew how to move around the island. Although the cold and reserved persona could still show up at times, he had warmed up and it was remarkable. It had really startled her when Baekhyun had once acted so cheerfully so, she had never expected him to be able to let out so much noise. They had simply been playing cards at the tables outside of the bakery when Jongdae had thrown a playful insult at his brother that had been answered with a sour expression, sending Baekhyun's beautiful laughter bubbling out of his throat, leaving her completely in awe as well as surprised. Had her heart just jump because she had absolutely loved that?

How could she ever explain herself? The more days passed, the more this urge within her to get closer to Baekhyun increased beyond her powers to stop it. Not only did she wish to know him better, but it was also a physical feeling that she had to fight against. She couldn't help it when they would be baking together and the little mole on the corner of his thumb would constantly catch her attention. It made her want to just grab his hand in hers and thread their fingers, to intertwine them. Baekhyun's hands that always looked so artistically beautiful, so soft and flawless. Or when the boy would occasionally meet her on the rooftop, showing up in his oversized clothes that made it barely impossible for her not to cuddle him on the spot.

Byun Baekhyun who had let her in his life. Byun Baekhyun who was slowly taking her heart without knowing it. And she hadn't admitted it yet, but she had never been more ready to give her heart away to someone if it meant Baekhyun.

She had just placed three trays of her usual buns into the oven when Mrs. Byun had come rushing to her once again, way too stressed to even explain a thing as she quickly pushed a piece of paper into her chest. She remained glued onto her spot, wondering if she had imagined Mrs. Byun flashing and disappearing in front of her in the span of three seconds. Eventually, she looked down onto the piece paper and saw an infinite list of groceries that made her frown, this wasn't the usual list of ingredients she'd buy once a week, moreover, they were so many that-

"That's a long list," Came Baekhyun's voice from behind her, making her jump slightly, though she regained her composure quickly, only to be betrayed by her heart that stuttered at the scent of fresh vanilla and flowers that emanated from the blue-eyed boy behind her. She raised her head to meet his gaze, only to regret it, because their faces had ended up being so extremely close. Baekhyun seemed very surprised himself as he barely kept his body from flinching, though just shortly after, a little smile displayed on his lips as he cocked his head to the side.

"Should I accompany you?" He suggested kindly and before she knew it, she had forgotten about the close proximity and beamed at him in pure joy.

"That would be very kind of you, Baekhyun." She smiled, imitating the formal tone that he used with her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but a soft touch of fingers on the curve of her waist lingered, a gentle touch as light as feathers. It quickly disappeared as Baekhyun made his way around her, murmuring a gentle; "Meet me outside", his lip brushed on the shell of her ear. Shortly after, he was gone again, leaving her burning to ashes with the fire spreading on the surface of her cheeks. Teeth drilled into her lip as she tried to regain her composure. Just why was this happening? Why was he having this damn effect on her? Suddenly making her jumpy and fidgety, self-conscious but at the same time physically attracted to him. On the other side was Jongdae staring at her with an infuriating smirk and wiggling eyebrows, he inhaled:

"Guess who just got herself a date-" The boy announced in the whole kitchen, making her want to disappear but not before strangling him. But since Mrs. Byun had been in such a hurry, she dismissed the idea, keeping it for later. She showed Jongdae her index finger and slid it across her throat in a threatening manner before leaving. In the distance could be heard Jongdae's laughter echoing in the kitchen.

Having taken off the apron and left the kitchen, she could see Baekhyun standing outside the bakery through the glass doors. His black hair was flowing gently with the soft summer breeze. His legs hugged by a pair of ripped jean trunks, the white and oversized tee shirt flickered with the wind, giving her a view of his slightly toned physique as it tightened and loosened up against his body.

As the two walked their way to the center of the island, they could see people rushing in every direction. The corner shops were overflowing with costumers and for a moment she wondered how the two of them were ever going to make it into one of these stores without getting lost in the crowds. People were building up stages and bringing out tents and various decorations, some were setting up new food stalls along the paths. Seeing the unusual view of preparation, she frowned her brows and confusedly asked Baekhyun;

"What is happening? Why is it so crowded today?"

"In a few days is the summer festival, it's a celebration for this Island, that's also why need that many ingredients," He explained while intently following with his eyes the people who were sweating under the island sun just to prepare for this special event.

"Of course, that makes sense, are you guys going?" She asked again, even more curious, Baekhyun let out something that sounded like a chortle.

"Of course, we'll have our own stall too, but closer to the beach where most of the festival's activities will be taking place." Excitedly, she turned to face him, glistening eyes and an expectant expression on her face.

"That sounds so fun-"

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Huh?" She stammered when Baekhyun's voice collided at the same time as hers. His cheeks were slightly pink as he cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed but still kept his beautiful orbs on hers as he repeated himself.

"Do you want to come with me to the festival?"

And there it went again, her heart fluttering, but in the happiest way possible.

She beamed so brightly.

☀️☀️☀️

The reflection met her gaze in the dusty mirror of her bathroom. Insecurity was written all over her features as she eyed herself hesitantly, inspecting how the see-through sleeves of her summer dress seemed to cover most of her scars. The way that she had left her home hadn't been an easy one, and in all honesty, she couldn't recall stuffing one of her prettiest clothing into her luggage. But there she was, wearing it, and for that, she gave herself a pat on the shoulder. On the sink rested various makeups products, they didn't belong to her though. Although Mrs. Byun never seemed to wear such things, the girl had tested her luck and asked nonetheless her expectations. She had indeed, been lucky when the lady had shown up with a whole bag of things that she didn't use anymore. That was how she found herself debating about what lipstick would suit the best with her mild yellow-flowy dress that hugged her features ever so beautifully.

To her surprise, she wasn't feeling too uncomfortable in the dress. Well, because it was pretty and because...She blushed at the thought that crossed her mind, but maybe, just maybe, Baekhyun wouldn't mind it if she made herself a little prettier for him. She shook her head.

What was she thinking? Suddenly she felt silly, Baekhyun didn't even seem like the kind of guy who would notice such things. Her eyes shut tightly to force the blush away from her cheeks, trying to regain common sense over her thoughts that had these few days been wandering a bit too far for her heart to handle. It made her feel funny in her chest.

When she was finally done, there was a sparkly and glazed lipgloss gracing her plump lips. The gloss had a soft orange shade to it and a delicious scent of cloudberries. Outside, the sun had already set, leaving the sky in its darker color. The stars sprinkled all over its immensity and the full moon was as bright as ever, just the sight was enough to make butterflies erupt in her belly, fluttering their wings inside of her with excitement. A giddy feeling made its way in her body. She could just sense it, that this night was going to be one that she'd remember her whole life.

As the girl reached the doors, she could already see Baekhyun's back facing her. His silhouette stood tall and the colorful enlightened decorations leading the path to the festival reflected wonderfully on his figure. Red, orange, yellow- pink! An explosion of colors, he was, and it looked as if he had jumped out of a painting. His legs were wrapped in a pair of jeans trunks while his lean torso was hugged by a rather tight tee. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that even in such simplicity, Baekhyun looked so unfairly pretty, and it was not fair how it was making her heart skip continuous beats. The girl made her way outside.

When their gazes met outside for the first time, it was the shyest glance they've ever shared, looking from underneath their lashes. A small, almost inaudible gasp left Baekhyun's lips as he unconsciously let his eyes slide from her head down low until up again. A bright red hue immediately spread onto his cheeks but he didn't really say anything. He sent a nod in the direction behind him and she understood right away, and so they moved on to the festival.

The two of them walked quietly next to each other, though the silence was filled with the faint sound of music playing in the distance, chatters of hundreds of people playing games resounded in the whole island. Food stalls were frying and cooking street food, emanating every kind of scents. It wasn't the biggest island, and yet when everyone gathered like this in a few areas only, it gave the impression of it being immense. Though, she loved the colors of summer and night melting together, the noise of people having fun, and the quiet footsteps of Baekhyun next to her.

Although their silence was not uncomfortable, she could still feel that a hint of tension had built up between them. As if they both knew that sooner or later, they'd have to speak with each other, but neither of them had enough courage to. Never had she felt like this before, never had she ever had problems with breaking the ice, and yet- next to him, outside the walls of the bakery or the supermarket, wearing a cute dress- it was definitely out of the ordinary. It was only natural that she felt like that, right? This was very close to a date, and she had never been on a date before. This was a date, right?

In an attempt to break the ice, despite her increasing heartbeat, she gently grabbed the sleeve of Baekhyun's shirt and pulled him towards a game section, one of those classical ones where'd you throw the hoop upon the desired prize. The boy let the girl pull him, though without getting involved as he had no will to play the game. She pulled out a few coins from her pocket and eyed Baekhyun from the corner of her eye, seeing him watching her intently from the side, she gulped.

Baekhyun's patience seemed to be infinite as the girl kept failing every try but was too stubborn to give up and move on to another game. She really wanted that huge teddy bear on the shelf, and she was going to get it. A line had started to form behind her, everyone waiting for her to realize that she was much probably not going to succeed. The owner of the stall kept her sweet smile upon her aging features, though it was obvious how it was starting to strain, she wanted the other costumers to participate as well. A group of guys that had been standing behind her in line suddenly walked up to her, interrupting her from her hundredth try. Only by looking at the young men, she could tell that they were in hers and Baekhyun's age. The tallest one had his hair styled into soft waves that were parted by a headband, his locks dyed into a cotton candy pink. She couldn't help the hint of a smile on her lips at his large yet cute ears. His constant smirk made him look handsome, she noted.

"Hey girlie, can I get you that teddy bear?" Cotton candy boy offered with an amused grin spreading on his lips, his large chocolate eyes that held her gaze were mischievous, knowing it was what she had been going for the past fifteen minutes. The girl sent him a bright smile.

"That would be a-"

"Absolutely not necessary, thank you and goodbye." Baekhyun suddenly interrupted as he took the hoops from her hands and flashed a fake smile to the group of boys and shooed them away before they could even protest. The girl was, to say the least, completely flabbergasted as she could barely keep in the chortle from bubbling in her throat. Baekhyun kept a sour expression on his face as he directed the hoops towards the teddy bear, muttering angry words underneath his breath, and she wished she could know what was going through his mind at that moment.

To their dismay, Baekhyun turned out to be just as bad of a player as she herself. He stubbornly gave many tries but didn't succeed even one of them. As the two eventually moved on to try various other games, Baekhyun's competitive side had completely unraveled before her, showing a passion for games that she would have never expected to exist. Although the boy was so bad at it, he couldn't stop challenging himself. Though, the challenge didn't go far as they ended up finishing all of their pocket money without a single prize in their hands. Their shoulders dropped in utter defeat, though, the lady at the stall seemed to have grown fond of them as she had watched them play.

"Aigoo don't look so sad my dears!" She cooed sweetly, waving at them to come closer, to which they complied curiously. "You were very sweet trying to win something for each other," A laugh followed the end of her sentence as she eyed the two with twinkling eyes, taking out two pairs of what seemed to be couple bracelets and tied them to their wrists before they could explain that they were not together.

"Now, now, take good care of each other, love birds!" She cheered them goodbye. Baekhyun's face was unnaturally red and the was heat spreading all the way from his neck to his ears as he avoided her eyes for a moment. The girl could feel the blush pulsing on her cheeks as she looked down at her wrist, watching the bracelet spark under the festival lights. She was embarrassed but happy, for some strange reason. Baekhyun seemed shy, but he hadn't denied a thing to the lady, like most people would have done. Why was it making her so ecstatic?

In the midst of her thoughts, the girl hadn't noticed how much more flooded the place had suddenly gotten. She looked to her right to find Baekhyun, only to see that he was completely gone and a cold shiver ran down her spine. They had been standing next to each other just a moment ago, how was it possible to get separated so quickly? Panicked, the girl moved through the crowd, squeezing in between people, though she had really no idea where she was going. She found herself standing in front of a concert stage once free from the sea of people and decided that it would be better for her to stay in one spot in case Baekhyun was looking for her. So she did. On the stage was a lady in her thirties singing a traditional song ever so beautifully, waving her hands and curling her fingers gracefully as she danced. For a moment, she was so taken by the view that she forgot why she was standing there alone in the first place. Her eyes danced all over the lady's features while she performed until her breath suddenly hitched at the sudden touch of two arms sneaking around her shoulders. A defined yet soft chest pressed against her back. The familiar scent of berries and musk reached her senses as a head came snuggling into her shoulder, black hair tickling her neck and the heavy pants landing hotly onto her skin were incredibly familiar.

Her eyes were frantic as she tried to catch a glimpse of the Baekhyun's appearance, though, completely froze when her gaze met with two very familiar doe-like eyes in the distant crowd. She narrowed her gaze, trying to figure out what she had just felt when looking at those eyes, but quickly forgot about it all when Baekhyun pressed her further against his chest, leaning his lips dangerously close to her ear.

"Why is it that you're always making me look for you?" He breathily whispered directly into her ear and his candy scented breath sent goosebumps all over her body. She inhaled and was about to answer when a voice from the speakers of the festival interrupted everyone's actions, leaving her to gasp.

"The firework display will start in ten minutes," The speakers echoed the words and Baekhyun was by then already in front of her, his eyes glinting with something that looked like excitement and mischief, the little grin that played at the corner of his lips sent her heart swelling as if it was about to explode. Seeing him smile felt so indescribably special, something not to take for granted and something to treasure dearly. So she could only let her eyes form into the most bright crescents as she smiled back at him, only to be surprised when he suddenly wrapped his hand around her wrist.

"We got to hurry!" He exclaimed, going in for a run and dragging her along, she was slightly shocked and her heart was beating so loudly in her chest out of nervosity and emotion that she could barely hear her ragged breathing. Even in the midst of a run with the wind pushing against her face could she feel the heat seeping from Baekhyun's touch and into her skin, the sensation sent a bolt of energy buzzing through her veins while her hand acted on its own. She had no idea what was going on in her mind or body when she unhooked her wrist from Baekhyun's touch, only to grab his hand in hers. At the action, Baekhyun visibly flinched as he cast a quick, shocked glance behind his shoulder, giving her a glimpse of his wide eyes before he directed them back on where he was running. From her angle, she could see his cheeks and ears turning into all shades of pink.

Gosh, what was that blooming feeling in her chest? So ticklish and playful, as if there were flowers blooming in her belly, butterflies fluttering their wings in every part of her body. She loved the view of him before her, their touches melting together, she almost laughed out loud in pure bliss and happiness.

She really treasured this boy, didn't she?

"Why are we going away from the festival?" She asked breathlessly as she recognized the path that they were taking as the way back home. Baekhyun only answered with a stressed "You'll see." And she let him lead her.

The closer to the bakery they got, the more she was weirded out, what about the firework display?

They entered the building of the bakery and ran up the stairs, passing by her own apartment, going straight to the rooftop. Baekhyun's hold was still tight on hers as he eagerly led her to the familiar place. His grip left her only when they were by the railing that he leaned over as if he would get a better view of the already immense sky. It was like a dark blue sheet draped all over the world with glistening diamonds sprinkled upon it. Just a few moments after their arrival, the first firework erupted in a million colors in the very center of the sky, bursting a special and eager feeling in the chests of both. Taking a quick glance at the boy, she could see the awe and amazement emanate from every inch of his body, the colorful explosions reflected in his shining orbs, taking her breath away, not being able to detach her eyes from him.

"You know," He breathed out before allowing himself to return her gaze for a brief moment, though directed it to the sky almost right away as a loud boom resounded, taking in the next set of beautiful glistens. "I used to come here every year, after the summer festival, with my mother and father, and we'd watch the fireworks together, like this." The more he spoke, the softer his voice got, flowing into a solemn tone as he looked above with melancholy. An extremely strong pull burst inside her chest, an urge that overwhelmed her, something that she didn't know how to tame as she stared at the broken beauty in front of her, her chest heaving heavily. "We're here together but..." He let out a sad chuckle, "I can't help but miss them, you know?" He almost choked upon his words as he spoke, eyes starting to glass with water. Upon seeing that, her own heart broke, no, she hated to see him like that, she wanted to make him happy. She, solely.

The girl shocked him when she suddenly, rather harshly by the unusual flow of strength within her, grabbed his collar and dragged him down to her level, pressing her soft lips against his for a short yet lingering kiss. Baekhyun remained unresponsive and overwhelmed with eyes wide and confusion pooling within them.

"I will be your family, Baekhyun," she breathed out, her heartbeat erratic and echoing in her ears. "If you'll let me, I'll be, and we'll watch these fireworks every year, together- just know that I'm here now and that you don't have to consider yourself alone anymore and- oh my gosh I am so sorry I shouldn't have kissed you without your permission, and what the hell is wrong with me? I haven't even admitted that I like you yet- wait did I just? Oh my gosh-" Before she knew it, Baekhyun had grabbed her cheeks, surprising her with her same acts. His tightly shut eyes came into her view as he clumsily pressed his lips to hers, the warmth on his cheeks hit her own skin.

"Don't make promises that you can't keep... please." He susurrated brokenly, eyes dancing over her features.

"I swear, Baekhyun, I'll stand by you," she murmured meaningfully back. Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he leaned dangerously close again, his eyes still on hers although sleepy and hoody, the curiosity of feeling her lips again surged within him.

"I have such strong feelings for you...You can't back away" He said before connecting their mouths, molding them perfectly as he nibbled sweetly on her lips, his thumbs automatically drawing lazy circles on the apples of her cheeks. Shivers traveled down his body when she fisted his shirt and kissed him back, tilting her head and capturing his lips way more skillfully than he could ever have managed. He found himself loving the soft texture of her lips, how they'd stick to his own as if they were brushed with a layer of sugarcoated glue. They parted for a breath of air, but he felt way too disappointed about it to even explain it to himself, it had been such a special thing- a kiss- he hadn't expected it to make him feel so many things at once. His mind was clouded, but he wanted to know more about this feeling.

"More," He murmured before crashing his lips on hers all over again, surprising himself by how widely he had parted her lips with his, brushing his careful tongue over the surface of her cushions before gently sucking on her sweet lips. Their lips parted with a moist noise, his hands were still on her cheeks, their foreheads pressed together as they panted. His eyes were closed, eyelashes tickling each other's cheekbones, this urging feeling never leaving his body. He tilted his head and murmured;

"Again, please,"

☀️☀️☀️

As the light of the morning made its way inside of her room she laid still in her bed, gaze attached to the ceiling. Ever since she had gotten back yesterday night, her heart hadn't stopped fluttering, not even for a second, while the feeling of Baekhyun's lips on hers- the feeling of his hands in hers, they were still fresh and pulsating on her skin. Her chest expanded with such strong emotions- it wasn't mere affection and happiness, truly, it felt as if there were two hearts swelling behind her ribcage. She hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep and yet she felt as wide awake as she could ever be. Curling up into a ball, she fisted her shirt right on the spot above her chest, whining a bit to herself.

"Aren't you tired yet? Stop fluttering already-" Her little conversation with herself had ended right away when she had gotten a glimpse of the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand and she bolted up from her bed. Mrs. Byun had said that it was okay to sleep in a bit but she had definitely crossed the line by being two hours late. Quickly, she threw on one of the old dresses that Mrs. Byun had given her, tied her hair up and freshened up before sprinting down the stairs in the span of five minutes.

The bakery was empty but nonetheless, everyone was busy doing something. Junmyeon was cleaning the tables while Jongdae polished the windows, Mr. Byun was nowhere to be seen but the girl guessed he was taking care of the kitchen with Mrs. Byun.

"So you finally graced us with your presence," Jongdae teasingly called after her when he noticed her standing still and lost in her thoughts, the action had snapped her immediately out of her trance. It was only when the boy handed her a broom that she noticed how a certain someone was missing and without hesitating, she stopped Jongdae from going back to his work.

"Where is Baekhyun?" She questioned and the brows furrowed on Jongdae's forehead in deep thought, he then wiggled them suggestively with the infamous smirk of his sneaking upon his lips. "Why?" He sang cockily, "You had him the whole night yesterday, miss him already?" At that, she couldn't do anything to stop the heat from spreading on her cheeks. Not much at what he had said - but rather because of the images of last night replaying in her head as if frames of a film, perhaps the most beautiful one she had ever seen- lived- but that endless tease of a Jongdae didn't have to know that. Puffing her cheeks, she gave him a light punch on the arm and the boy played along, faking hurt as he dramatically grabbed his arms and whining out loudly, a noise by now familiar to every employee.

"Oh stop it!" She groaned, "I am serious Jongdae, do you know where he is?" It was visible in the mischievous glint in his eyes that he had no intention to answer her question seriously, her urge was amusing him and the long cleaning session had bored him to no end. The plan to have some fun was though backfired when his older brother, Junmyeon, hit him unexpectedly on the head from behind, earning a painful hiss from Jongdae.

"What was that for-"

"Cut it, Dae," The few words were enough to shut the younger male up and the girl watched Junmeyon as if he had just performed the world's most outstanding magic trick. When Jongdae was in the mood, he would never stop teasing.

"Geez, fine! None of you people are fun to be with," He complained, scratching his neck rather embarrassed from the scolding he had just received from his brother. "I don't know where he is by the way." Jongdae eventually revealed, not masking the slight hint of concern glistening in his eyes.

During her whole working shift, there was no sight of Baekhyun anywhere and the fact was making her heart expand with anxiety, but she was not the only one. The girl had approached Mrs. Byun for further explanations but it had turned out that she was just as clueless and worried as her, clutching onto the little vague note that the boy had left on the fridge that morning.

As the sun was lowering behind the horizon, she headed to the rooftop, by now completely hopeless. There was this habit that they had grown, where they would meet every evening at the rooftop just to watch the sunset along with a lighthearted conversation that would lull them into sleepiness. It was something that belonged only to the two of them, and at the moment her last hint to possibly find Baekhyun. But her heart only fell into the deepest pit of her stomach when his usual spot at the railing was empty.

Defeated was not enough to describe the fear and disbelief that took over her body as she leaned over the railing and took in the orange and lilac sky reflecting limpidly onto the sea, her eyes rimmed red with small tears filled with worry. A small distant walking silhouette crossed her view, making her squint her eyes furiously- trying to get a proper look at the person crossing the beach- her heartbeat suddenly echoing like powerful drums in her ears. She knew it could have been whoever taking a stroll on the beach, but the squeeze in her heart pulled her to detach from the railing and sprint down the stairs and out of the bakery, confusing the Byuns and Kims that had also been searching. She didn't stop for a single second as she ran as if for her life, past the shops, the bazaar until the sand overflowed her sneakers. Her lungs were burning in flames, screaming for air as her heart struggled to keep up with the fast tempo of her legs.

Lips were dry and gasping for oxygen, she had to find Baekhyun.

The exhaustion in her body was at the speed of light pushed to the back of her head and replaced with a pump of adrenaline upon seeing a very familiar male figure entering the waters with furious manners. Million of questions were erupting in her brain as she had no idea what was going on, why Baekhyun was sobbing loudly into the night as he pushed past the hasty ocean waves, but no explanation mattered more than the safety of the one she held so dearly. With no hesitation, without even removing her shoes, the girl ran into the shivering cold water, struggling against the weight of her drenched dress but nonetheless reached him faster than she had expected. With all her might she screamed his name but all she could hear after the echo of her voice was Baekhyun's loud, heartbreaking cries. The boy ignored her and kept pushing past the waves.

After what seemed an eternity she finally was close enough to wrap her cold and wet fingers around his arm and stopped him from moving further. His head snapped in her direction and the girl flinched at the view of his swollen, bloodshot eyes and red cheeks drenched in salty tears,

"Let me go!" He opposed, trying to yank his arms out of her grasp.

"What are you doing?!" She screamed back as she caught both of his arms, eyes crazed as she took in his figure, noticing how pale, how frail, but most of all how heartbroken he looked. Baekhyun's broken heart reflected in the glassy orbs of his. Lips red and swollen just like his eyes. Baekhyun was still frantic as he tried to break free from her grip.

"I have to go-" He cried, "I have to go to them, don't you understand?! Leave me be!" His broken and rough voice resounded all over the sea as he pleaded her to let go, but for no reason in this world was she going to let him go.

"Baekhyun!" She yelled angrily, the loudness of her screams scratched the inside of her throat. "What are you talking about? Get yourself back together!" The boy seemed to have snapped out of his delirious state as her screams made him flinch back to reality, the shock was permanent on his features as he dried his wet face with his palm, brushing the black bangs to the back his head.

"I-" Baekhyun's lips were violently quivering as he tried to form a proper sentence, but it was as if every word he'd speak would break his heart further.

"I have no idea how it was possible but-" He started, nonetheless the dry lump cutting the insides of his throat. "I found a bottled letter at the shore today, and-" All over again, the tears had made their way to blur his view, crystallizing into his long and delicate lashes. "It was for me- from my parents, they wrote it knowing that he had no way to come back alive." His words were defeated murmurs underneath his breath, until he suddenly snapped his head up and found her gaze, his eyes searching for any kind of comfort but could only get lost in his own emotions.

"They said to be happy- that they will always love me even if they're not physically here- that they will look after me," He cried out loudly with tears streaming down his pale cheeks, his hands clutching painfully at his chest. "But I don't want to be without them anymore- I just can't, I want to go to them, I just want to be with them, don't you understand?! I want to reach them, I need to go-" Baekhyun was about to break free out of her grasp again but before he could push her away, she had already circled her arms around his shoulders and guided him to her soft chest. The girl shook her head in disagreement.

"No, Baekhyun." She said softly, letting her hand travel to the back of his head, brushing through his wet locks soothingly. "You are here for a reason. This place is where you belong. With us...With me, on this island." It was a lie if she said she wasn't the slightest affected, in fact, her eyes were glossy with tears and the sigh that tumbled out of her lips trembled. But she had to be strong, for Baekhyun. She had to be his rock.

"Your parents might not be here anymore but they aren't gone either, they're still watching over you and I can bet you my whole life that they wouldn't want you to do this. They want you to be happy," Gently, she detached ever so slightly from the boy so that she could face him again. "But if you do it like this," She soothed while placing a hand on his cheek, letting the pad of her thumb catch the trail of tears on his skin. "If you reach them like this, with those tears, it would break their heart, Baekhyun. This is not the right way to reach them. They might not physically be here anymore, but," She placed a hand on his chest where his heart was beating, spreading an incredible warmth in his insides that could've melted him on the spot if it wasn't for the cold water they were standing in.

"They're still here," The girl sent him a soft, sincere smile, "Reach them by keeping them close in your heart, reach them through happiness, never anything else."

Baekhyun stared back at her, completely defeated and empty as his eyes filled up with more tears that he did not hesitate to let fall. Loud sobs were tumbling out of his lips as he crushed himself against the girl's chest, hiding in her embrace as if she would be an escape from reality.

And the comfort of her chest was the warmest, even in the icy night sea.

☀️☀️☀️

Baekhyun had looked so upset on their back that she could only imagine how painful it would be for him to go through thousands of questions from his worried aunt and uncle, so she had made a quick call on the payphone, telling Mrs. Byun that Baekhyun didn't want to speak with anyone and that they could go to sleep. The lady had, of course, disagreed, wanting to see a safe Baekhyun with her own eyes. Somehow though, she had managed to convince her to wait until tomorrow.

The boy and the girl had been looking at each other by the stairs that separated the ways to their rooms. She had been on her way to go before Baekhyun had suddenly grabbed hold of her sleeve, pulling her back to him as he pleadingly searched for her eyes.

"Can I please stay with you?" His gentle voice a mere murmur, but enough to set her whole heart on fire, and without hesitation had she let him into her room. And that was how she found herself with Baekhyun sitting on a chair with its back facing her as she dried his damp hair with a towel. In her room took place an eternal silence, decorated by the soft murmurs of their breaths.

"Done," She said contentedly, smiling a little to herself as she put the towel away. Baekhyun abruptly stood up, his pretty fingers fidgeting nervously underneath the oversized sleeves of his hoodie. By the look on his face, she could tell that he was still upset, that his heart was still aching. To be frank, she knew that the next part would be her sending him back to his room with a good night, but there wasn't a single nerve in her body that wanted him out of her room, that wanted him to be alone.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?"

☀️☀️☀️

my oh my i feel like this is the worst chapter of this story, forgive me.

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out-of-jams · 5 years ago

Text

Airplane Mode | Track 07: 21st Century Girl | jhs

Summary: Inspired by Love at First Touch by bagelswrites

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate in time, they starve to death.

So what happens when your soulmate is a world famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language?

Pairing: Hoseok/ FemOC

Word Count: 5.1k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: Explicit language. Anxiety. Somewhat brief depiction of a panic attack.

Words written in bold are spoken in Korean.

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“It’s cold as hell.” Eunjae’s mumbled complaint passed through the black face mask pulled over her mouth and dissipated into the winter air.

With teeth chattering, she quickened her pace to keep up with the older woman next to her. Eunjae’s over the knee black boots clicked against the sidewalk and she took a moment to be grateful that they were only three inch stiletto heels. Even with the sleeves of the thick, red Supreme hoodie that she’d borrowed from Hoseok’s closet that morning covering her hands, she was still freezing.

There wasn’t much that she could have used from his wardrobe without looking like she was playing dress-up, so Eunjae did what she could. A small, cute black belted fanny purse that she’d designed months ago was hooked around her slim waist. With her silver hair loose down her back and tiny rings through her cartilage piercings, Eunjae was pulling off a very Ariana Grande-esque look.

She’d been lucky that while her clothes were nowhere to be seen, most of her shoes and accessories had been shipped out to Seoul early. So after digging through two boxes worth of various shoes, she’d found her favorite pair of boots. Even though Eunjae wasn’t necessarily self conscious of her short height, her footwear collection might say otherwise. Almost every pair she owned were either platformed or heeled. Though she did own the occasional regular pair of running shoes.

“Let’s go in here.” Eunjae barely got a warning from the woman walking beside her before she cut to the right and almost left Eunjae in the dust.

At eleven am on the dot that morning, the doorbell to Eunjae’s apartment rang, effectively scaring the hell out of her. She’d been in the bathroom inspecting herself in the foggy mirror, the steamy air from her recent shower billowing out into the hallway.

The sound had startled her so much that Eunjae’s hand jolted from where she’d been drawing on winged eyeliner. The brush jerked, leaving a huge black streak down her cheek, which she scrubbed at viciously as she stumbled to the door. Luckily, the bruises had faded completely from her skin due to the impromptu cuddling session in the car with Hoseok on the way back from the airport.

Unlike earlier that morning, there was only one ring of the doorbell as the person on the other side waited patiently. With sudden nerves invading her senses, Eunjae hastily ran a hand down the hoodie she converted into a dress. The hem fell a little lower than mid-thigh and she was grateful that her boots were tall enough to help prevent her from accidentally flashing someone.

Eunjae took a moment to take a deep breath before pulling open the front door. She wasn’t normally so nervous about meeting new people. In fact, she was actually pretty outgoing. But something about the whole situation just made her a bundle of nerves that she tried to hide behind the bright smile she pasted onto her face.

Standing on the other side of the door was a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. Though it was hard to tell for sure. The woman’s wavy black hair was cut into a fashionable bob that did well to accentuate her elf-like face. She was dressed business casual, with a white blouse underneath a black blazer, french tucked into a pair of jeans. The woman had on a pair of short white heels with a cross body purse hanging from her shoulders.

She gave Eunjae a polite bow of the head and extended her hand with a smile on her red painted lips. “Hello, Morales Eunjae-ssi. My name is Park Soyeon and I’m here to show you around Seoul.”

Soyeon’s soft, accented voice soothed Eunjae’s nerves and she reached out to take her offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” Soyeon brushed her hand through her short hair, the gold watch on her wrist glinting under the lights. “I work as an English interpreter for the company, so I’ve also been appointed to tutor you in Korean, if that is something that you’re interested in.”

With a hand still swiping the excess eyeliner gel from her face, Eunjae stepped to the side and waved the woman in politely. “Absolutely. Yes. Come in and please ignore the mess that is my face.”

Now, almost two hours later and a healthy amount of shopping to break the ice, Soyeon’s personality was beginning to emerge. The woman was professional, that was a given, but the more time the pair spent together, the more Eunjae discovered that the woman’s initial innocent appearance was far from true. Her energy was enough to rival Hoseok and despite being in her mid thirties, she gave off a very spirited vibe. And the woman loved to shop.

Eunjae found that out the hard way when she had to physically hold Soyeon back from dragging her into all the high end stores in Gangnam. While yes, Big Hit was paying to supply Eunjae with enough clothes and necessities to last until the rest of her belongings arrived in Seoul, she didn’t feel comfortable racking up a huge bill. Soyeon had pouted all the way to the less expensive, less high end designer stores. But she’d perked right back up at the cute displays in the windows. Apparently, Soyeon’s girlfriend was huge into fashion, which only served to prompt the woman into even more of a shopping fiend than normal, since their anniversary was fast approaching.

Sitting across from Soyeon at a corner table inside a cozy cafe, Eunjae sipped idly at the sweating glass of water in front of her. With one hand fingering the sleeve of her too big hoodie, the other tapped across the screen of her brand new iphone. That had been something that Eunjae decidedly couldn’t pass up on, since she needed it to communicate and all.

Soyeon had nearly run her down in the Apple store when Eunjae tried to pay for it herself. While she didn’t have a job, she still kept up a somewhat steady flow of income into her bank account. Sometimes Miles would invite her to costar in some of his YouTube videos (or she’d just invite herself over since she practically lived there anyway) and since he made so much revenue, he would split the profits with her. Despite explaining this to the interpreter who snatched her wallet, the woman refused to acquiesce. So Eunjae reluctantly let Soyeon swipe the black company credit card to purchase it.

The first app that Soyeon had insisted she download was something that everyone in South Korea had. The air in Seoul wasn’t always clean enough for the human body to inhale, so the app forecasted when and when not a face mask was needed in order to step outside. Hence the face mask currently pulled down below Eunjae’s chin.

“So I think after this, we head back to the company. Sound good?” Soyeon’s voice came out muffled as she chewed on the end of her straw. The iced latte in her plastic cup was almost completely drained with more ice than coffee left.

“Sure.” Eunjae closed out of the most recent text thread with Miles and set her phone on the table. “If you want.”

Soyeon paused in her vicious chugging to eye Eunjae over the rim of her coffee. The woman’s eyes were narrowed in thought and she pursed her lips as she stirred the remainder of her drink. “You nervous to meet the boys?”

Eunjae huffed a laugh and dropped her gaze to her cup, using the tips of her pointer fingers to push it back and forth across the table. “I’m just surprised you’re done shopping is all. You were like a tornado of fabric and credit cards back there. I thought they’d have to call in a SWAT team to stop you.”

“Uh huh.” Soyeon leaned forward on the table and placed her chin on her fists, lipstick stained straw pressed between her lips. “You have nothing to worry about. The boys will be nothing if not respectful.”

She reached out a hand to stop Eunjae’s fidgeting ones, pausing long enough for Eunjae to look up. “Besides, you barely speak Korean and not all of them completely understand English. What could possibly go wrong?”

With a playful roll of her eyes, Eunjae snorted in amusement and fell back against her chair. “That’s like, exactly what someone says right before shit hits the fan.”

“Whelp.” Soyeon shrugged, taking one last noisy pull of her drink. “What’s that weird English phrase you showed me earlier?”

Eunjae simply raised a brow in response, lips pursed in mirth.

Soyeon giggled before standing from her chair with a wink. “‘Ain’t nothing to it, but to do it.’”

“I regret showing you that video so much right now.” Eunjae groaned but followed the older woman’s lead, standing and shoving her phone into the purse around her waist.

The ride to BigHit Entertainment was spent with Eunjae anxiously playing with the sleeves hanging over her hands. Numerous bags stuffed with more clothes than she needed spread across the backseat in a multicolor rainbow of plastic. A radio station streaming Seoul’s most current popular music blasted from the car speakers. Soyeon had turned the volume up to an obnoxious level, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel along with the beat.

Eunjae sank down further in her seat, causing the top of the hoodie to bunch up closer to her nose. The faded scent of, well, Hoseokstuck to the fabric and she had to stop herself from burrowing into it. She felt strangely comforted by the smell in a way that she didn’t understand. Maybe it was just a soulmate thing? Or perhaps it was because he was the closest person that she knew in the whole country? Who knew. Which was a little sad in and of itself since she barely even knew the guy.

The closer she got to the company, the more her nerves came out to play. Eunjae tried to push the thoughts--the reality--of the situation to the far recesses of her mind for as long as possible. But now she was less than two miles away from coming face to face with the boy group that she’d been fangirling over for a while now. Not only that, but she would have to put all of her nerves, her doubts, her starstruck anticipation aside because her soulmate was J-Fucking-Hope.

What if the members of Bangtan hated her? What if, for some reason, they couldn’t get along? Where would that leave her with Hoseok? Would he grow to dislike her too? Eunjae didn’t want to imagine being rejected by the one person in the world that the universe decided to pair her with. She didn’t know if she could handle that.

Over and over, the thoughts played in a continuous loop in her head until she’d worked herself up into an anxious mess. With her bottom lip caught between her lips, Eunjae fiddled with the golden crescent moon shaped earrings in her lobes. She clenched her eyes shut and turned her focus back outward, grasping onto the closest thing to keep her grounded.

Some song from Red Velvet was blasting from the speakers and Eunjae let the lyrics flush the dangerous thoughts from her mind. She had a habit of doing that sometimes: working herself up with situations that always turned out to be way less of a problem than she’d feared. And Eunjae didn’t want to turn into panicking mess before she even stepped foot out of the car.

Just as she got her anxiety under control, Soyeon whipped the compact SUV up to a gated parking lot. The woman barely had to slow to a stop and flash her employee badge before the security guard at the gate let her in. The car maneuvered around the various filled spaced until Soyeon finally pulled into an empty spot. As she cut the transmission, Eunjae took one last steeling breath.

“Come on, kid.” The woman patted her shoulder comfortingly before she opened her door and slipped out.

The cold air from outside shocked Eunjae back to her senses and she scrambled out to follow. The stiletto heels of her boots clacked against the concrete parking lot as she followed Soyeon inside the building. For once, Eunjae was thankful for the cold because it forced her to pick up the pace to prevent herself from freezing to death.

Instead of taking the front entrance of the building, the parking lot led to a back entrance for what appeared to be employees only. Soyeon bounced on the toes of her shoes as she quickly slid her laminated employee card through the scanner at the side of the door. With a beep, it flashed green and the woman rushed to pull the door open. She barely gave Eunjae two seconds to scramble in after her to avoid being locked out.

White marble floors and beige painted walls greeted the pair as they slipped inside. Eunjae had been expecting some kind of grand, showy interior. There were absolutely zero pictures of the inside of the BigHit Entertainment building online, which left ARMY to speculate what it was actually like inside. What she hadn’t been prepared for however, was how normal it looked.

Where they entered looked like any normal office building. They were in a wide, open hallway with a bright green exit sign glowing above the door they’d entered. To the right was another door that led to a stairway that Eunjae presumed went all the way up to the top floor. The rest of the hallway was empty of life: no doors, no employees, nothing. Just a security camera perched on the ceiling with a red light slowly blinking in and out of existence.

Soyeon turned to Eunjae with a sigh of relief, most likely from having just escaped the biting cold. The puse dangling from her shoulder swung with the moment and Eunjae had to shuffle out of the way to avoid being hit. “Well, this is where we part ways. I have a lot of work I need to catch up on.”

Eunjae blinked in both shock and confusion, stuffing her facemask into the purse around her waist. “Wait, you’re just going to leave me here?”

A short laugh left Soyeon’s red painted lips, the sound bouncing off the walls. “Not--”

Before the woman could finish her sentence, the metal door to the staircase swung wide open. It hit the wall with a thud as whoever pushed it put too much force against it. A sheepish looking Hoseok poked his head out from the doorway and he checked to make sure he didn’t put a dent in the wall.

“--exactly.” Soyeon finished her statement with a smirk of amusement. Tilting her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow at the rapper. A string of rapid Korean left her lips and if her teasing tone was anything to go by, Eunjae could take a guess at what she was saying.

Hoseok’s eyes scrunched as he let out a loud laugh; a shrug lifting his slim shoulders. “Whoops?”

The words had barely left his mouth before his attention turned to Eunjae. Quicker than she could process, he scanned her from head to toe. His expression morphed into something unreadable, eyes darkening in the fluorescent light. But before she could try to discern it, his eyes flashed back to hers with a dimpled smile, hair pushed back from his forehead like he’d ran his hand through it repetitively.

“How was shopping? Good?” The question left Hoseok’s mouth carefully, like was was trying to make sure that he was translating the correct words.

As with every other time Eunjae found herself around the man, the corners of her lips pulled up into a smile. She was the type of person where the energy of others directly affected her own. While he wasn’t as goofy and loud as he was on camera in person, the man’s friendly disposition rolled off him in waves so strong she could almost feel it on her skin.

“Yeah. Very good.” Eunjae shoved her still cold hands into the pouch of her borrowed hoodie.

“Aw, my little protégé!” Soyeon’s icy cold fingers pinched one of Eunjae’s cheeks playfully, earning an annoyed nose scrunch. “You’ll be fluent in Korean before you know it.”

Soyeon, much to Eunjae’s benefit (or horror), had been throwing random Korean words and phrases at her all day. After making her repeat them a few dozen times, the woman would give her random pop quizzes at the most inopportune times. And if that wasn’t enough, Soyeon had the habit of sometimes abandoning Eunjae at a store counter to fend for herself (“Immersion is the best learning tool, kid.”). All-in-all, the woman’s teaching methods were completely abnormal, but Eunjae couldn’t say they weren’t a little effective.

“Yah.” Eunjae waved the Soyeon’s hand off with a pout. “You’re such a bully. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Sucks to suck, kid. Anyway,” Soyeon put a hand between Eunjae’s shoulder blades and pushed her towards an amused looking Hoseok. “Go hang out until the boss man sends someone to come get you two. Shouldn’t be too long, but also, who knows with how long business meetings usually last?”

The woman left no time for anyone to reply before she turned on her heel and strutted down the hallway. Pointing a finger at Eunjae from over her shoulder she added, “I’ll have someone drop those clothes off later today. And I’ll meet with you sometime either tomorrow or the day after. Seeya!”

All Eunjae could do was stare as Soyeon disappeared around the corner. She’d evaporated just as quickly as she’d appeared.

The sound of Hoseok clearing his throat brought her attention back to him and even with the added height of her boots, she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He nodded his head back towards the door to the staircase.

“After you.”

Murmuring her thanks, Eunjae stepped past him into the stairwell. It was just as empty as the hallway and the drab colored steps seemed almost endless, twisting up and out of sight. Turning back to Hoseok as he followed behind her, Eunjae raised a brow, half curious and half anxious. “Where to?”

“Studio. Everyone..,” Hoseok flashed her a reassuring smile, hands gesturing with his words. “Excited to meet you.”

Well if that didn’t send a jolt of nervous anticipation down Eunjae’s spine, she didn’t know what would. She wasn’t sure if she should be thankful that the rest of the members were excited to meet her or if she should feel more pressured to make a good first impression. With her finger pointed to herself, she squeaked, “me?”

Hoseok’s contagious laugh forced the tight muscles in her shoulders to relax a tad. He opened his mouth to respond, but before any words could make their way out, a loud rumble sounded from his stomach. His eyes widened and he looked down at his body as if he’d been betrayed.

“Hungry?” Eunjae stifled a giggle behind a sweater paw. It reminded her, however, that she had yet to eat for the day. The dread that had been weighing down her stomach all day had effectively chased away her appetite. Now though, it mingled with a twinge of hunger.

“A little.” Hoseok smiled sheepishly with a hand resting on his stomach like that would stop the sound from escaping again.

“Have you eaten?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Eunjae’s brows pinched in concern at the grimace on his face. Hoseok’s shoulders lifted a little in a shrug. “Tried.”

“But?” She urged.

“I..,” Hoseok’s nose scrunched as if the memory he was reliving was unpleasant. His head tilted to the side slightly, eyes raising like the words he was searching for were etched into the bottom of the staircase above them. “Got sick.”

Eunjae’s eyes widened at what he was saying. She quickly did the mental math in her head, counting the weeks since they’d initiated First Touch. The timeline just about matched up to the normal statistic of when food would become totally obsolete to the body. Since she hadn’t eaten anything that day she didn’t know if her body would react the same.

And she didn’t really want to test that theory.

Slipping a hand out of her hoodie pouch, Eunjae extended it out towards Hoseok. The movement pulled his gaze down to her outstretched hand and she wiggled her fingers with a small laugh at his questioning eyes. “I’d be a bad soulmate if I let you starve.”

His slender fingers intertwined with hers slowly, almost completely wrapping around her smaller hand. Any remaining tension in her body dissipated at the electric current that burst through her veins with the feeling of safety, warmth, home. With a flash of his dimples, Hoseok gave her hand a quick squeeze of thanks and turned to the stairs.

“This way.”

As they ascended the steps, Eunjae couldn’t help but silently thank the fact that the touch of a soulmate also took away the feeling of pain. While she was used to walking around in heels, the toes of her shoes were starting to pinch her feet and it would only be a matter of time before she had to change her confident strut into an awkward shuffle.

Hoseok pushed the metal door open once they reached the third floor and Eunjae followed him out into the hallway. The heels of her boots sunk into the soft carpet and she sent him a questioning look when his hand slipped from hers.

He simply nodded his head at the doors lining the length of the long hallway. Words embedded in the frosted glass doors read out the names of some of BigHit’s main producers. Hoseok threw a wink over his shoulder and held a finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

Eunjae just hummed in understanding. From what Sejin had said weeks ago at their initial meeting, the nature of her and Hoseok’s soulbond had to be kept on the downlow. She just wasn’t sure who was or was not informed. Did anyone outside of Bangtan and their management get to know? With the way Hoseok didn’t touch her as they walked down the hallway, Eunjae hazarded a guess that none of the producers knew.

The hallway was quiet except for the occasional sound of drums or piano keys drifting from the closed studio doors. Eunjae couldn’t help her inner fangirl from internally screaming. Where she was walking, Producer’s Row, was where all of Bangtan’s songs were made. Just a few feet away from her could be the key to their next big hit.

Lost in thought, Eunjae almost ran into Hoseok’s back as he stopped in front of one of the frosted glass doors. His lips quirked up in amusement and she had no warning whatsoever before he twisted down the handle. All she could catch were the letters spelling out MonStudio.

As soon as it opened, music poured from the room and spilled out into the quiet hallway. Eunjae couldn’t see anything past Hoseok’s tall frame and she took that moment to gather herself. That was it. The moment that she’d been preparing for all day. She was about to meet the members of one of the most famous boy groups in the world.

She didn’t get much time to prepare before Hoseok’s hand slid back into hers and he lead her into the room. Whether he was grabbing her hand to soothe the nerves wafting off her in waves, or to sate his hunger, Eunjae wasn’t sure. But she didn’t give it much thought because there was only so much her overwhelmed brain could process at once.

MonStudio, Kim Namjoon’s studio, wasn’t very spacious. The walls on either side of his desk were taken up by glass shelves displaying numerous amounts of bears and trinkets gifted from fans. There was a leather couch pressed up against the wall closest to the door and a small coffee table in front of it. The knee high table was littered with paper, some balled up haphazardly and others with words and sentences scratched out in black ink.

Taking up a seat on the couch hunched over a notebook furiously scribbling was one of Korea’s most famous rappers. With his blond hair pushed back by a thick headband, Min Yoongi paused in his writing to look up at the sound of their entrance. The end of the pen in his hand tapped a staccato rhythm against his pale cheek like he couldn’t contain the words it itched to spill.

The rolling chair that had been facing the desk across the room spun around as well. Eunjae was grateful for Hoseok’s hand in hers keeping her grounded against the starstruck feeling creeping up her throat. Kim Namjoon, in all his dimpled, long-legged glory greeted them with a smile.

His pressed a button on the computer keyboard behind him that caused the music spilling from the giant speakers on his desk to cut off. Namjoon’s hair glittered a dark grey underneath the lights of his studio. The baggy green sweater and beige cargo shorts he wore almost blended into the beige painted walls. It was just those two waiting in the room and Eunjae felt her fear dwindle a little at the fact that she wouldn’t meet all six members at once.

“She’s here?” Tilting his head, Namjoon tried to peer around Hoseok, who almost instantly moved out of the way.

Eunjae suddenly felt like she was on display. At the corner of her vision she could see Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to where Hoseok’s hand was wrapped around hers. An uncharacteristically shy smile tilted at her lips and she wiggled the fingers of her free hand in a wave. “I’m here. Hi.”

Hoseok gently pulled her farther into the room and motioned back and forth between her and the two other men in the room. “Eunjae, Namjoon-ah. Yoongi-yah, Eunjae.”

The use of the informal nickname didn’t seem to bother Yoongi as both him and Namjoon dipped their heads in a respectful bow. Both men spoke their greetings at the same time, Yoongi’s deeper voice blending in with Namjoon’s.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Namjoon’s English was perfect and Eunjae couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at the fact that he could translate between the four of them. Gesturing towards the couch that the eldest rapper was perched on, he smiled. “Please, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

Yoongi gathered the notebook in his hands and the stray pieces of paper scattered around him and shifted to sit on the floor at the other side of the coffee table. Eunjae’s eyes widened. “Wait! You don’t have t--”

“Too late!” Hoseok released her hand only to grab onto her shoulders and guide her to the now empty couch. She didn’t have time to argue as he dropped onto a cushion and pulled her down next to him.

Instead of taking her hand again, Hoseok simply threw an arm over her shoulders. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and she smiled in answer to his silent question. While he acted casual about the skinship between them, Hoseok repeatedly made sure that she was comfortable with it.

“So,” the sound of Namjoon’s voice brought her attention back to the other two in the room. Thankfully, neither of them made a comment about the fact that she was pressed into their best friend’s side. “How are you settling in?”

“I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet, to be honest.” Eunjae huffed a laugh, sinking further back into the comfortable couch. It was no wonder that the rappers would sometimes sleep in their studios if all of their couches were so plush.

“That’s understandable.” Namjoon’s golden cheeks dimpled. “It’s a pretty big change.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

Namjoon snorted in amusement and crossed one of his legs over the other, the chair beneath him rolling back a little at the movement. “Well if you ever need anything, you can come to any of us. We’ll try to help you the best we can.”

Eunjae could feel Hoseok’s warm stare burning into the side of her face as she gave her thanks to the grey haired man. Yoongi simply sat cross-legged on the floor, attention wavering between the conversation going on around him and the open notebook on the coffee table. The words begging to be etched onto the page conflicted with his desire to participate. That and the fact that the blonde wasn’t entirely comfortable speaking in English.

Hoseok spoke to Namjoon, the end up his sentence lilting like a question.

“Hobi-yah wants to know how old you are.” Namjoon translated for the rapper at her side.

Blinking at the question, Eunjae almost smacked her forehead at the realization. Korean manners were based a lot around how old somebody was, with more respect going towards those who were your senior. And she couldn’t recall ever telling Hoseok her age, so she wasn’t offended at all by the question. “I’m twenty-three.”

Hoseok made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded halfway between teasing and something else that she couldn’t decipher. He tapped a finger against his chest and hummed, “older.”

“I know.” Eunjae’s answer pulled a smile from his lips.

“Speaking of,” Namjoon rested a cheek against one of his hands, his forearms propped up on the chair’s armrest. Whatever he was about to say got cut short as the door the MonStudio echoed in a knock. All attention turned towards the figure on the other side of the frosted glass. “Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal Sejin in all his exhausted glory. The man sent an apologetic smile at the occupants in the room, finger pushing up the falling frame of his glasses. “Sorry to interrupt, but Bang PD-nim is ready to see these two.”

Whatever slight comfort that Eunjae felt within the confines of the cozy studio was wiped away almost instantly. The anxiety that had turned to a gentle simmer cranked itself all the way up, threatening to bubble over. She held it in though, pushed it down until it hid behind the small upwards tilt of her lips. Hoseok moving his arm from around her shoulders had her bracing herself for the inevitable.

She followed him as he stood from the couch, and with a few quick parting words to the other two men in the room, Eunjae trailed after Hoseok’s fleeting back.

Time to put on your big girl panties, bitch.

#bts #bts fic #bts fic rec #hoseok #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic

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sundoodle · 5 years ago

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It's Revue Starlight Monster AU Time

it's gayer. it fluffier. it's very self indulgent only my ships for me hahahahaaha. All the monsters can transform into humans and back again, this post is gonna be a thread of the animal form ref sheets I made n some tiny details.

A....a LOT of Lore below.

LORE that me and @witchbogs have cowritten

Human Knowledge of Monsters:

Most monster communities Are Isolated from humans, but myths and a vague knowledge that they're out there is the common perception. Rumors if they are dangerous or friendly depends on the region/community. There are some areas where humans and monsters live alongside each other peacefully. However, noticing if someone is a monster or not depends upon a human's own ability to Perceive Magic

Our humans are Mahiru, Tamao, Lalafin, Aruru, Akira, and Yachiyo

Lalafin and Aruru grew up around monsters Akira and Yachiyo grew up within hunter families Mahiru and Tamao had casual exposure to monsters

Magical Perception Rank High: Lalafin, Mahiru, Yachiyo Mediuim: Aruru Low: Akira and Tamao

Lalafin grew up in a household that helped protect monsters from hunters. Aruru just grew up chilling with Misora's fam. Tamao had contact with the Hanayagi's but her low perception didn't leave her with much of an impact. Mahiru had the occasional werewolf friend (coughsuzucough)

Akira was raised in one of two very prestigious hunter clans, but her magic perception is utter shit. Her test to become a full-fledged hunter failed because she ended up contracted to Michiru. Akira has no contact with her family and she doesn't really care .

Yachiyo was raised with the other clan and is a full-fledged hunter. Her first solo mission was SUPPOSED to be subduing Fumi, but Fumi transferred and Shiori is....well. She reports back to her family on the dealings of the monsters in the school. The accuracy of them shifts.

WEREWOLF TIME

Our werewolves are Karen, Hikari, Rui, Fumi, Shiori, and Misora

werewolves aren't turned, it's a hereditary magic, and families are werewolf packs. however, the transformation only happens if you have a certain level of estrogen in your system.

Transformation can happen at will, however, everyone Will transform during a full moon. Partial transformations often happen when emotions run high and the wolf gets sloppy. Karen, Hikari, and Fumi are all pretty typical wolfies.

Rui is typical in all but size. she is. ENORMOUS. like size of a small car. While the others are generally a normal wolf size. Except also Shiori, who was sickly as a kid, so her werewolf form is rather small, and high levels of stress can keep her trapped in her puppy form for several days

Misora is a trans girl. She is recently started estrogen and reached the threshold for transformations to start shortly before leaving for frontier. most Beginning transformations happen when werewolves are babies, and their bones are still soft, so the transformation isn't hard. so unfortunately Misora's first couple are painful and she struggles easing into casual ones without the moon. Her fur also starts out real patchy. But everyone at frontier helps her settle in and make sure she's comfortable as possible and are super happy for her when she starts fluffin out

NEKOMATA/bakeneko

Tsukasa is basically a were-tiger, but with a split tail and some neat magical powers. she helps misora a lot with her transformations and is thrilled to be able to interact more casually with other magical creatures. her fam was real strict on secrecy ( fun side note, Frontier def has a whole lil page dedicated to their 'friendly tiger' who just wanders around and hangs out in the performance dorms so many rumors start flying when a red wolf starts showing up with her )

VAMPIRES

Claudine, Nana, and Shizuha are all vamps

full vampirism isn't a heritable trait, since it stops a human from aging. But, vampire clans often adopt orphaned children and turn them if they so choose. Half-vamps are also a thing. Loner vamps are the dangerous ones.

Claudine is a halfie and she chose to join her mother in staying a vampire. She also functions like a Twilight Vampire where she doesn't burn in the sun but sparkles. Everyone just thinks she uses a lot of body glitter. She was originally born in about 1920. Mostly eats meat rare for blood, but if someone offers she’ll take a sip

Shizuha is a pretty new vampire who was raised by a clan. They adopted her from an orphanage and she chose to turn just because she likes her family a lot. Her type of vampire burns in the sun but her health goo is a potion to keep it from killing her. Og born in 1970s. Shizuha’s goo is also her vampire food, but again, will drink from friends who offer (usually lalafin and aruru)

Nana is the oldest vampire. She was turned in a loner accident over 200 years ago. With no vampire support system, she went feral with bloodlust for the first couple decades until she met up with vampire hisame, who calmed her down before leaving her for more civilized vamps. She then chose to stay in a series of tunnels under where Seisho was built, and stayed there eating rats until Karen dug a hole in the garden and dragged her into the common room to show all her new friends. Nana works with Junna for her sun-protection and a way to turn mortal. Nana refuses to drink from humans in fear she’ll go feral again

WITCH

Junna's a witch. She insists she's simply a scientist with a high magic perception. She deals mostly in potion making rather than spells. She helps Nana create blood-replacements for vampires, vampire sunscreen, and is researching a way for Nana to be mortal again

KITSUNE

Maya and Kaoruko. Kaoruko's family is a high profile and important kitsune fam with lots of connections and fae-touched workers Kitsune can do minor wish/curse magic. they can appear as normal foxes as well. Maya's family is known for their talent in acting and slyness

FAE

Futaba, Ichie, Michiru are fae Fae are elfish beings with a ranging affinity for magic. Tend to work in contracts OR minor miracles. Futaba is part of a family who became fae-touched as they worked for Kaoruko's. Her magical ability is low but she excels in noticing spells

Ichie is mostly just a trickster. She does pranks or enchants songs to make people feel happier. Usually they work out, sometimes she gets a mess, her magic can be a little wild.

Michiru works with contracts and persuasion. She made a deal with Akira to form an acting troupe. Michiru also feeds off of emotion, which is why she wants an acting troupe in the first place. Theatres and compelling plays provide a bountiful feast for her. Andrew is Michiru's older brother who prefers the guise of a mole. He likes feeding off negative emotions. he sucks

DRAGON

Mei Fan is a dragon. she cool. she breathe fire. her scales can have some magical properties. she can fly. yeah. dragon.

???

Yuyuko: we just don't know. Except she sleepy and was active during the height of Rakugo/Noh/other traditional Japanese arts

and that is a VERY long thread for the basic information of the plot kjshfjkshf Seiran is technically also in this world. Suzu is a werewolf, Koharu a Kitsune, Hisame a vampire the giraffe and Elle are just the same as in starira. bc i mean they magic. thank you for reading!!!

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pocket-luv101 · 5 years ago

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Across Time || Chapter 25

Fandom: Servamp Ships: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side) Characters: Kuro, Mahiru, Hyde, Licht

Summary: Mahiru falls into a well and is taken to a new, fantasy world. He comes across a half-blooded cat demon trapped in a tree. After he frees Kuro, he helps him collect the shards of the sacred jewel. (KuroMahi, InuYasha AU)

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10 || Ch.11 || Ch.12 || Ch.13 || Ch.14 || Ch.15 || Ch.16 || Ch.17 || Ch.18 || Ch.19 || Ch.20 || Ch.21 || Ch.22 || Ch.23 || Ch.24 || (Ch.25) ||

Mahiru walked through the marketplace and scanned the goods on display. He needed more parchment to practise making spell tags. He also hoped he would be able to find charms that he could enchant and gift to people. Behind him, Kuro carried the scrolls he had purchased. Even though he was uncomfortable with crowds, he offered to go to the market with him.

“There’s only a few more things I have to find. When we get back to the camp, I’ll cook that expensive seafood ramen cup for you.” Mahiru said and hooked his arm around Kuro’s. They walked close together and it was as if they were shopping together like a normal couple. He wanted to lean his head on his shoulder but he felt a little shy with so many people around them.

“Tonight’s the first new moon of the month. I’ll be a weak little kitten then so you should treat me kindly.” Kuro joked with Mahiru but he kept his words a whisper. He didn’t want anyone to overhear them and learn his weakness. Each half demon had a time period they become human and vulnerable. He was careful to keep when he changed a secret from others but Mahiru was the exception. He trusted Mahiru with his life.

“I don’t sense a jewel shard nearby so we don’t have to worry about fighting demons. If one does attack us, I’ll protect you, Kuro. I doubt it’ll come to that though.” Mahiru reached up and fondly scratched Kuro’s ears. From the way his ears relaxed and moved slightly, he knew that he enjoyed the simple touch. It was amusing to him that he would act like a cat sometimes. “Give me a few of those bags. I’ll help you carry them back to the cave.”

“It’s fine. I’m going to earn three cup ramens by carrying so much for you.” He shook his head and lifted the bags out of his reach. Mahiru rolled his eyes at the childish gesture and stood on his toes to try to take one of the bags. He was grateful for his kindness but Mahiru wanted to share the work. They were partners, after all. “Stop teasing me, Kuro.”

“I would call this being a doting lover.” They bantered until Mahiru wrapped his arms around his neck. A light force pushed his hands down but he wasn’t concerned since he recognized Mahiru’s spiritual power. With a light kiss to distract him, he stole one of the bags from Kuro’s hand. He rocked back onto his feet and grinned up at him.

“Now that one of your hands are free, you can hold mine while we head back to the campsite.” Mahiru said and held out his hand to Kuro. He threaded their fingers together and they started to leave the market place. “I picked up a few treats for Kirara. I don’t know what Licht usually feed her so I hope she likes these treats.”

Mahiru noticed someone approach them but he didn’t recognize the person. From his clothes, the man appeared to be a simple villager. He stopped in front of him and pointed to Mahiru. “Excuse me, are you a priest? My onsen is being haunted by a spirit and I have been searching for help. Priest rarely visit our village though. Please, exorcise the demon for us. We will house you for the night.”

“Of course, we’ll help.” Mahiru was quick to accept. He could hear how desperate the man was and he wondered how long the spirit had been haunting his home. He was sympathetic to his plight. A night at an onsen would also be relaxing after the fights they faced over the past week. “We’re friends with a monk and he has a lot of experience with exorcisms.”

“Thank you, kind Priest.” The man shook his hand excitedly. “I will show you to my onsen. It is at the top of the mountain.”

“This is a fancy onsen. I didn’t have to lie about a ghost being here for a free stay because Mahiru already did that for me.” Hyde joked and Licht rolled his eyes. No matter how much he kicked him for tricking humans, he would continue to do so. He didn’t know how he was able to become a monk. Despite his personality, Licht had to admit that the demon was a skilled monk and fighter.

“Did the onsen owner tell you about the spirit that’s lingering here? Kirara doesn’t sense a demon nearby. I haven’t fought a spirit before but I think it’ll be similar to demons.” Licht leaned against the wall and adjusted the straps on his boots. He glanced around the lobby and noted, “The onsen doesn’t look busy. It’s more like a haunted house.”

“Not many people are willing to stay in an onsen with spirits. Mahiru said the owner sounded desperate for help and this is likely the reason.” He nodded towards the empty lobby.

Hyde pulled his fencing sword from his belt and tossed it into the air. The sword became embedded in the floor and Licht was shocked to see that it was now a staff. “The owner asked us to perform the exorcism after the sun sets but I want to begin now. This is a good chance for my brother to relax with his mate. He hasn’t told me this but I know he would appreciate alone time.”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful for a demon.” Even as he said the words, Licht thought of how different Hyde was from the demons he fought in the past. While there were a few intelligent demons who resembled humans, they were violent and dangerous creatures. On the other hand, Hyde clearly cared for the people around him. He also protected humans to keep a promise to his lost lover.

“I was hoping you would think I’m more than just an oni dressed as a monk by now, Lichtan. My staff will point us to any dark auras within the building. Hopefully, it’ll take us to the hot springs so we can have a little fun while we’re investigating.” He laughed even as Licht kicked him for the joke. His staff fell to the ground and pointed to the hallway. Hyde used his feet to move his staff towards the hot spring entrance. “It looks like my spiritual powers are so strong that I predicted the future! Let’s go.”

“The only thing worse than a demon is a pervert.” He picked up the staff and swung it at his head. Hyde didn’t try to dodge his attack and he was knocked into the wall. Licht gripped the collar of his shirt and dragged him down the hallway. “Let’s find the spirit.”

The hot spring relaxed Mahiru and he sank into the warm water until it reached his shoulders. He hadn’t been able to enjoy a warm bath in a long time. Mahiru wanted to soak in the water before they tried to purify the spirit. He planned to speak with Hyde about the best way to find it after a quick soak. He had placed a few spell tags next to the pool and he organized them into piles.

The door slid open behind him and Mahiru looked over his shoulder to see who entered. Due to the mist around them, he could only see that the man had dark. He didn’t recognize him at first and instinctively grabbed his arrow resting nearby. Mahiru stopped once he realized that the man was Kuro as a human. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Kuro. You should’ve knocked or said something.”

“The moon is out sooner than I thought it would and I didn’t realize I transformed.” Kuro told him as he slipped off his robe. A blush appeared on Mahiru’s cheek and he wondered if it was caused by the steam. “Is it too hot in there? I’ll get a fan to help you cool off. It’ll be troublesome to carry you out if you faint in the water.”

“I’m fine, Kuro.” Mahiru told him. He could hear Kuro’s kindness beneath his sarcastic voice and smiled to himself. While he was human now, he had a toned body and he stared at the muscles on his arms. He couldn’t help but imagine himself being held by him and Mahiru was glad Kuro couldn’t read his thoughts. “It was kind of the owner to give us a room with a private spring.”

“We have this pool to ourselves. Hyde stopped by to tell me that he’s going to exorcise the spirit on his own.” Kuro sat next to Mahiru and leaned back against the rock wall. In the corner of his eyes, he watched Mahiru. He thought he was attractive but he didn’t know if he should close the small space between them. Aside from a few kisses, they hadn’t been able to be intimate much. He was afraid to move too quickly and make a mistake.

“I don’t know if he said that to give us time alone but I should thank him later. He’s a monk so he should be able to handle things on his own.” Mahiru reasoned. The manager had specifically asked him for help so he felt a little guilty that he wasn’t searching for the ghost. Yet, he couldn’t help but be grateful to spend time with Kuro. “We can relax tonight. Can you turn around for me, Kuro?”

“Okay.” He didn’t know why Mahiru would ask him to but he turned so his back was facing him. Kuro felt his fingers run over the water droplets on his back until his hands settled on his shoulders. Gently, he massaged his muscles and loosened the knots he had. Kuro turned slightly to look back at Mahiru and saw how flustered it was.

“It’s stressful fighting every night. The hot spring is relaxing but I thought a massage would help more. After I finish, will you give me a back massage as well?” Mahiru held his breath as he waited for his answer. Kuro didn’t know how he expected for him to answer when his touch was so distracting. The only thing he could focus on was his hands on his naked skin. Occasionally, he would stop kneading his shoulders to rub his back. “You have a scar here. I wish I could heal it for you.”

Mahiru hesitantly touched the scar where Kuro had been shot by an arrow and pinned to a tree. He kissed the mark gently and then leaned his cheek against his strong back. He thought of the dangerous battles they would have to face in the future and vowed that he wouldn’t let Kuro be hurt again. Kuro turned around and brushed his wet hair from his brown eyes. Then, he took his hand and placed it over the scar on his chest. “You already did more than heal it, Mahiru.”

The day they met, Mahiru had freed him from Tsubaki’s curse. His tender hands then erased the scars on his heart and mended the rift between his family. Kuro was certain he would’ve never met Hyde and Lily again if it wasn’t for Mahiru. Their eyes met for a moment but then Mahiru looked down at their reflection in the water. “You keep looking away from me. Do I look strange as a human?”

“No. It’s different though. Dark hair suits you but I do miss your ears. They were cute.” Mahiru said in a teasing voice and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. His light hair was the same colour as the moon and the unique feature reflected his calming personality. No matter his appearance though, he loved Kuro. “You don’t have your fangs either.”

Mahiru placed his finger against his lips and felt Kuro kiss his skin lightly. He wrapped his hand around his and lifted his wrist so he could press a kiss there as well. He wondered if Kuro could feel his pulse racing when he kissed him. The shyness Mahiru had earlier was gone and he leaned towards him.

Mahiru heard a splash behind him and he jumped back. Afraid that someone had entered the hot spring, he instinctively grabbed Kuro’s jacket next to the pool and covered himself. He looked back into the pool and found that the sound was caused by a peach falling into the water. Embarrassment coloured his cheeks and he smiled awkwardly.

“That was surprising. It was just a peach. Do you want to go back inside and have these as a snack? We should ask the manager before we pick them though. I’ve never seen fruits this big before— Oh God.” Mahiru’s eyes widen as he dropped the peach. The shock in his voice made Kuro jump to his feet and he ran to his side. “The peach has a human face.”

“Troublesome.” He picked up the fruit and looked up at the tree beside the hot spring. “I’ve heard of cursed trees that can grow fruits with human faces. It’s said that you’ll become immortal if you eat its fruit. Long ago, a group of farmers would sacrifice priests with a lot of spiritual power to these trees. I thought the trees were all destroyed since they weren’t able to maintain the trees for long.”

“Why would a tree like that be in an onsen? We have to talk to Hyde and Licht about this.” Mahiru was worried about his friends and he didn’t want to waste his time returning to his room. He took Kuro’s red jacket and slipped it on. His jacket was a little big on him so he had to tie it around himself. “It’s lucky that I bought my arrows and spell tags in here with me. Let’s go, Kuro.”

“We have the worst luck with inns.” Kuro groaned as he pulled on his pants. As he tied the tessaiga to his belt, he couldn’t help but glance at the new moon in the night sky. He didn’t know how well he could fight as a human but he would do everything he could to protect Mahiru. The cursed trees feasted on people’s spiritual energy. Of the four of them, Mahiru had the most energy and the manager likely targeted him for being a priest.

“The trail ends at this wall. We should look for a hidden door. I would suggest that we ask the owner where the door could be but I don’t think he’ll be honest. The longer I’m here, the stranger this onsen is. There’s no one here. I understand the lack of guests but there should be a few workers here. He can’t maintain this large onsen on his own.” Hyde muttered. His staff had led them to the basement of the onsen.

He briefly considered returning to his brother to speak with him but he didn’t want to endanger Kuro when he was human. He needed to find what the onsen was hiding before the demon could target them. Hyde knocked on the wall lightly to find where the door was. He paused when Licht placed his hand on his shoulder and stood beside him. “Do you sense a demon?”

“Only you.” He didn’t take his hand off his shoulder as he pivot his body to kick through the wall. Licht used his grip on Hyde to balance himself as the bricks crashed to the ground in front of them. He waved the dust from the air and he coughed slightly. Once the air had cleared, he found another wall blocking their path. Tree roots hanged from the ceiling and Hyde pushed them aside enough for Licht to slip through. He followed him into the hidden room.

Among the tree roots were large pots. He opened one to investigate and he immediately had to cover his nose due to the smell. The pot was filled with peaches, bones and wine. Hyde quickly covered the jug again and searched the room for any hints of what the peaches could be. He picked up one of the tree roots and thought he could feel it pulsing in his hand.

“Someone is harvesting human-faced fruits. These roots are huge so I can only imagine how large the tree is. The person tending to the tree has sacrificed a lot of people as well. The person of immortality can turn humans into demons.” Licht’s hands tightened over the tree root. “We need to tell the others and burn the tree to the ground.”

“You’ll destroy the inn if you do that.” A tiny voice argued and Licht followed to a stone box. At first glance, it seemed to be a small replica of a farm. Then he noticed that the people within were moving and were far too realistic to be dolls. He carefully laid his hand next to one of the people so he could lift them out of the box. “Are you a koro-pok-guru and that’s why you’re so tiny?”

“My name is Tetsu and I’m the true owner of this onsen. I hope you’re enjoying your visit.” The blond man said and climbed into Licht’s hand. “This onsen has been in my family for generation so you can’t burn it down. I know where the main tree is and I’ll take you to it.”

“If you’re the owner, who is that man that brought us here?” Hyde had to question him since it was clear that the inn held a lot of death and secrets. The other man had clearly lured them into a trap and he didn’t know if Tetsu would do the same.

“He’s telling the truth, Greed.” Only his siblings would call him by the nickname. A tiny bat flew in front of him and he recognized Hugh. “That man came to the onsen a month ago holding a jewel shard and a seed. With those two things, he shrank us and took the onsen. He has been sacrificing our guests to his tree ever since. I can’t fight him because he made me so small and he has a shikon jewel.”

“Well, you were already tiny, Hugh.” Hyde said and a powerful gust of wind struck him. “I was going to add that you were strong even when you’re short, Nii-san. Kuro is here too so let’s go explain the situation to him too.”

“This is the largest human-faced tree on the property. All of the other trees seem to be connected to this one as well. If we cut this tree down, the others should be destroyed as well.” Mahiru looked up at the large peach tree. He used a spell to follow the spiritual power within the tree and it led them to a cliff. “We don’t have anything to cut down the tree and kill it. Setting the tree on fire could be dangerous if the flames become too large and travels… I can sense a jewel shard approaching us.”

As he turned around, Mahiru drew an arrow from his quiver. The onsen owner approached them but he didn’t lower his bow. He held a peach in his hand and there was a faint glow in the fruit. Mahiru shifted his aim to the man’s hand, hoping to take the shard without killing him. But then, the man ate the peach with the shard and his body began to change.

“I become immortal once I eat this peach. Your arrow can’t hurt me.” His thin body changed and grew until he resembled a stone ogre. Kuro gripped the hilt of his sword but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to help in a fight since he was a human. He glanced at the lowering moon and prayed for the sun to rise soon. He couldn’t let Mahiru fight alone.

“The effects of the peach are temporary but my tree will soon be fully grown. I only need to water it with your blood.”

“I won’t let you touch Kuro.” Mahiru stepped in front of him with his arrow raised. He didn’t know if his arrow could piece stone but he would protect Kuro. He drew his power from his body and enchanted the arrow. They were cornered on the cliff so it was impossible for them to run.

“Mahiru, watch out!” He was focused on the man so he didn’t see the tree move behind him. Mahiru suddenly sensed the aura of the tree change and become demonic as it came to life. A branch swung down at him and Kuro pushed him out of the path of its attack. The demon tree stabbed his shoulder. He was dragged to the tree and vines wrapped around him.

Mahiru stood and saw him struggling against the tree. The man stumbled to the tree and raised his fists to attack Kuro. He didn’t have time to properly aim and instinctively shot an arrow at the man to stop him from reaching Kuro. The arrow struck the man’s stomach where the jewel shard was glowing. The jewel fell to the ground at the man’s feet. Before the man could pick up the shard, Mahiru shot another arrow at his hand. “Get away from Kuro and the shard!”

“How dare you!” The man screamed and rushed towards him. Mahiru reached behind him for another arrow and took a step back. He almost stepped off the cliff but he managed to stop himself. In the moment he was distracted, the man was in front of him. He raised his hands to protect himself but his barrier wasn’t effective against a human.

“Stop!” Kuro ignored the pain of the branches digging into his pain and broke away from the tree. He raced forward to save Mahiru and he threw his body against the man before he was able to reach him. The momentum of his attack sent them both falling off the cliff and he heard Mahiru calling his name.

Mahiru stretched out his hand to catch him but someone pulled him away from the cliff. He tried to push the person away and save Kuro. It would be nearly impossible for him to survive the fall while he was human. Licht’s voice broke through his desperation. “You can’t jump after him, Mahiru. Are you crazy?”

“I have to do something!” Mahiru broke away from him and knelt at the edge of the cliff. He looked over the ledge but he couldn’t see the bottom. His heart sank to the ground at the thought of what could’ve happened to Kuro. He tightened his hands in the dirt. “Why would he act so reckless when he’s human? He didn’t need to go that far to protect me.”

“You shouldn’t cry, Mahiru. Mr. Cat fought honourably and I’m sure he’s fine.” Licht told him and Mahiru couldn’t understand why his tone was so indifferent.

“Inns are troublesome.” For a moment, Mahiru thought he heard Kuro’s voice. He looked back over the edge and, with the rising sun, he saw Kuro on the ledge with Hyde. They climbed back up the cliff and Mahiru helped him onto the ledge once he was closer. The moment he was safe on the cliff again, Mahiru hugged him.

“Thank goodness, you’re safe.” Relief and happiness caused tears to enter his eyes. Kuro tenderly rubbed his back and he felt guilty that he worried him.

Hyde climbed onto the cliff and said, “It was lucky that I was there to catch Kuro. Lichtan didn’t tell you that I was going to investigate the bottom of the cliff, did he? You were worried for nothing, Mahiru. Don’t you feel silly for crying and worrying?”

“This isn’t something to tease me about.” Mahiru wiped his eyes and frowned at Hyde. “Sit, Hyde!”

Kuro fell to the ground and groaned softly. “I’m the one with the enchantment, not me brother. I’m glad I’m a demon again or that would hurt more.”

“I’m sorry, Kuro.” Mahiru sat next to him and stroked his ears.

#servamp #kuromahi #lawlicht #sloth pair #greed pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #servamp hyde #licht jekylland todoroki #fanfiction

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unlockthelore · 5 years ago

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Inexcusable Excuses [ Yōkai AU ]

Returning to the Western Palace, Rin happens upon an irate Sesshomaru and finds the cause to be inexcusable. From the fic Feathers in the Wind on Ao3. For more updates, follow the feathers in the wind tag on this blog. If you’re looking for Yōkai AU, search the yokai au tag.

Rin held out her arms as she soared through the air. A wide blue sky surrounding her as she rushed through the dampness of the clouds. Sable black feathers warmed by sunlight brush against her arms, cool wind currents carrying her westward. This was freedom in the most unadulterated term. Nothing to meet her at this height but the occasional flock. Endless skies opened around her, and a canvas of land rushing beneath the sea of clouds.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she banked sharply to one side, curving through the clouded veil, the ground arching up to meet her as she shot up into an arc. Beyond the forests blanketed in patches of sunlight, cliffside and raucous waterfalls catching ocean spray on her feathers as she crested over their peaks, a valley blooming from hill to vale dotted with villages, lies a castle set upon a precipice so tall it nearly could vanish into the sky. Rin tipped her head back as she allowed her eyes to wander across its watchtowers, meeting eyes with soldiers who saluted or waved as she shot past.

Her giggle lost in the booming rush of wind as she soared over sloping rooftops and beneath archways, startling some who were passing by. Hearty apologies drowned out in barrel rolls between posts and open doorways, shoji rattling in its frame.

Familiar faces blur amidst unfamiliar, and yet none belonged to the one she was looking for.

Half a millennia of sneaking in and out of the Western Palace leant her knowledge of its layout but upon being permitted to traverse its better known pathways, she couldn’t resist flying.

Wings fluttered, beating as she made her descent into the open fields of her favorite garden where a lone figure sat beneath an aged gingko tree bursting with verdant green leaves. Clusters of feathers surrounded her as her wings tucked close to her back, dew-covered grass wetting the soles of her feet with each hurried stride.

To her surprise, the field was fairly empty. No one milling about the flower beds, tending or otherwise. Not even his retainer or the two-headed dragon who often trailed at his heels in earnest. With the wide array of colors and scents, narrow spaces cut around terraces and small patches of grass used for lounging — it was hardly a place to be sullen. And yet, somehow, he was.

Standing with his back to her despite the both of them knowing he was aware of her presence. A sure sign of irritation.

Shaded beneath the leaf canopies, Rin’s wings twitched as she approached and reached out to lay her hand against his back. There was an odd smell to him and her nose wrinkled but she pressed forward, cradling his sides between her hands when he didn’t turn. No longer did brackish tears roll down his cheeks when he became upset. Ever since he’d become a daiyōkai one hundred fifty springs old, those days were rendered memory.

Yet still, she goaded him into turning toward her as if naught had changed, angling with an odd turn at his hips. Eventually, his body gave way to her pestering and shifted amidst the damp grass squelching wetly beneath his boots.

A slight glower in his eyes, shadowed and distant.

“Sesshomaru?” Rin called to him in a hushed tone, soft and confused when the recognition returned to his eyes.

He didn’t glare at her with discontent or brush aside her hands. Instead, his sleeves swept against her arms as he pulled her close, pressing her cheek against the solid warmth of his chest. A startled huff of a breath squeezed from her lungs — he never instigated hugs — or rather, he seldom did. The scent on him was much stronger now and Rin shut her eyes, concentrating on picking apart his usual musk from this.

Perfumed, almost powerfully so, and if her nose was correct she’d smelled this before on one of the lesser lord’s daughters. One that had been incredibly interested in being chosen as Sesshomaru’s bride. A strange tremble went through her as she pulled away, staring up into his eyes sympathetically. Downcast and apprehensive, and despite his face giving away nothing, she read him all the same.

Her heart cinched as he presented his cheek to her, a sideways glance filled with disdain. Rin pulled her lips thin. Dread pooling in her stomach as she sniffed his cheek, recoiling with a disgusted scoff.

“… Did she kiss your cheek when you weren’t paying attention?” She asked, drawing her sleeve over hand to wipe at his cheek. Although her own smell was that of the forest, ocean spray, and sodden earth, it was infinitely better than this.

“Mm…” Sesshomaru hummed in a deadened tone, his inexpressive veneer cracking as his eyebrows pulled together with the faintest scowl. Rin slipped her fingers free of her drawn sleeve and traced her nails over the incline of his marks. Golden eyes flicked toward her, softening and strangely bright. “I told her I wasn’t interested and she seemed to take it as a challenge.”

Rin rolled her eyes. Again, she thought derisively. Brushing off his cheek then patting lightly as if it would erase the deed. In truth, it was a distraction for herself. Irate thoughts buzzing in her mind like bees. A challenge? When would the world learn that forcing him to do something wasn’t the way, or anyone for that matter? Justified anger on his behalf crept up and swelled in her chest as she thought of giving the young demoness a piece of her mind later. While it would likely result in a fight, she was more than prepared to fight on his behalf.

Or perhaps it was because she felt a mighty need to protect him. Half-glaring at nothing and curling her fingers in his silken sleeve, Rin felt her face warming and wanted desperately to bury herself in his chest and forget. Propose a race so they could soar through the clouds together and forget all that laid below. An overwhelming blah settled over the colorful thoughts and she barely noticed until her nose was buried against his chest that he’d hugged her close.

A soft “Huh?” muffled against the lining of his nagajuban, glancing up when she felt the weight of his head resting against her own. When his hold on her was secured, hands tucked beneath the fluttering wings at her back, Rin dared to sigh. Her toes pressing into the soft, cool earth and kicking up small clumps of grass, thin bands on her ankles ringing when she stamped her foot just shy of his boots. She swallowed anger and bitterness.

Why was he comforting her?

Rin grumbled, turning her head so her mouth was freed while her cheek pressed against his chest. “…I’m still angry,” she murmured in a half-hearted protest.

“You can still be angry,” he muttered and her heart tittered in its beating. His smile was evident in the gentle airiness of his voice, clawed fingers threading in her hair, carefully working through damp locks. He never told her not to be angry, nor how to feel at all. And from the tight way he held her to his chest, as if she would vanish if he loosened his hold in the slightest — she could tell he was angry himself. “But you’re the only one I want.”

Unconsciously, her wings fluffed at his words. Pleasant warmth prickling at her spine and the back of her neck, the colors of the garden blurred beneath her closing eyelids. Sesshomaru could be incredibly sweet when he wanted to, and no matter how tightly she tried to grasp it, the anger was dissipating. His affectionate hold drew softer sighs and giggles from her lips, soft lips brushing against her ear left bare from his nuzzling her hair aside.

A disgruntled groan warbles from Rin’s throat as she swatted at his back, curling her fingers in his kimono. “Stop that, I’m trying to stay angry.”

Sesshomaru pulled back and pressed a kiss against her hair, the deep baritone of his voice reverberating through her in a bell’s toll. “I made a promise to you.” He reminded, her brow arched until he pulled away. “One I intend to keep.”

Her hold on the last vestiges of angers loosened at the memory.

A younger Sesshomaru, innocent in only the ways a youthful appearance could bring, holding onto her hands as she floated above him. He was remiss to let her go, but the days’ light was gone, and she had to return before Midoriko began to worry.

It wasn’t in jest when she pulled him closer.

Promising him that there would come a day where she would not have to take flight and leave him to go home. They would build one together. Where they could watch the sun rise and fall. A home where they would stand side by side, hold hands and smile. Not as lovers if he didn’t desire. But as friends.

His eyes shined in the amber light filtered beneath the leaves that afternoon. The same gingko tree they stood under now, where she promised she would make a home with him and he promised himself to her, letting her hand slip away.

A cherished memory. One Rin kept buried deep in her heart, never to bring up again.

And yet he had.

Sesshomaru, who all believed to be cold and unfeeling, recanting warmly a promise made centuries ago. Gods, how could she be angry at that?

Pulling away to meet a golden gaze, she huffed at the sincerity in his eyes. Involuntarily puffing her cheek as she glanced aside at the flower beds arcing around the grounds.

“You could just say you love me, you know.”

She hadn’t seen what expression he wore and was prepared to drop her feigned ire to start up another conversation. Then, without warning, whispered words pressed into a kiss ghosted across her forehead.

“…I love you.”

Clutching the back of his kimono, she cursed under her breath when he held her closer, his smile barely in view from her flickering glance.

“Okay, okay…” She sighed, unable to hide a pleased smile when he kissed her cheek. “I get it…”

Unbeknownst to the pair, their image shimmered in the glittering reflection of an orb. A pair of onlookers observed, one in surprise while the other fond and content. The former, clearing his throat, looked away with his hand covering his mouth.

“I feel like I just witnessed something private,” he said with a small amount of sheepish self-consciousness.

“Perhaps,” his co-conspirator said to him shamelessly, waving her hand to dispel the image. “But we know our son’s feelings.” Her fingers curled beneath her chin as she stared at the crystal ball’s surface with a charmed quirk to her brow. “That little bird is the only one he cares for.”

The Inu no Taishō smiled, lacing his fingers over his stomach with a self-assured look at his wife, lying back against his pillowed throne. “And he’s very steadfast,” he quipped, a toothy fang showing as his face split with a knowing grin. “Much like someone else I know.”

Her eyes widened and she shot him a sidelong glance, more annoyed than upset. So similar to their son was she in showing her emotions, drawing a belly laugh from him. While she set her belongings aside, he opened his arms, giving his best smile to ease her slight scowl.

“Don’t be angry, Kimi,” he cooed, catching her raised brow and unimpressed look, adding on to hasten the blow. “I love you.”

That seemed to be what did it. Rolling her eyes to the heavens, she cast a slight smile in his direction then gracefully curled in his arms with her head resting against his shoulder. He would have been fine with that being the end-all. Deciding to leave the matter of discussing the lesser lord’s daughter to another time.

Then, without preface, she hummed pleasantly and muttered, “… and I you, beloved.”

Glancing down at her, his smile faltered then returned with ache in his cheeks. He squeezed her a bit tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

That was a phrase he would never grow tired of.

#inuyasha fandom #sessrin #sesshomaru x rin #sesshomaru #rin #fanfiction #my fanfiction #feathers in the wind #yokai au

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fullmetaldevil-blog · 5 years ago

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Stitched AU: Halloween Birthday Bash

OK, Ladies and gentleman it is that time of year where not only will my boy Benny be celebrating his 1st birthday, but also Halloween in right around the corner. I wrote a short story to go along with this festive time of the year as I’ll be releasing it in chapters since it is rather long.

Characters (either mentioned or appearing in this chapter):

Shadow the Ink Cat belongs to @zanzaflux , SINdy the wandering demon belongs to @trashboatprince , Bendy the ink devil belongs to @soniccrazygal , Beast Bendy belongs to @doberart , Angel Henry belongs to @inkspottie , Fate belongs to @vespavespa

Benny belongs to me

Without further delay.

On with the show~!

The summer days had slowly dipped down to cooler days where the sunlight was warm, but the air had a cool crisp feel to it. The trees had all put on their best displays of oranges, browns, reds and yellows with each leaf trying to outdo the other before they danced to the earth below. Lawns were covered in the fall leaves like snow only waiting for a grumbling individual to come along to rake them up.

The older man wore a heavy flannel shirt and long jeans as the crisp air was a bit colder then his preference, but was still too warm to wear a sweater. He grumbled as he raked up the leaves into a pile mentally cursing the trees for shedding their growth before the winter months as he was tasked with cleaning the yard. All the while he worked a pair of eyes watched him with little snickers drifting in the air as two figures hid out of sight and waited for the leaf pile to be sufficient size. Thomas pulled the last of the leaves into his huge pile and gently set the rake aside to grab a can to rake them into. Just as he reached for the can with his back turned to his pile a loud 'wheeee!' was heard followed by a series of loud crunches and laughter. Thomas whirled around to see Benny's head barely floating above the leaf pile with his body completely submerged and Allison next to him half buried laughing.

"God damn it I just swept that up." Thomas loudly groaned while rubbing his hands down the sides of his face as he walked to the edge of the pile earning a few chuckles from his wife.

"Oh lighten up Tom." she snickered "It's time to kick back and enjoy the fall."

On cue Benny's threads wrapped around Tom's ankles and tripped him up sending him crashing face first into the leaf pile with a loud crunch and a yelp from the older man. When he raised his head out of the pile of leaves with a good collection of them stuck in his hair, he glared at Benny before a smirk grew on his face while the toon grinned mischievously.

"I know you put her up to this, c'mon here!" Thomas lunged for the demon who practically swam away in the leaf pile laughing.

Allison laughed as she watched her husband chase Benny all through the leaves trying to catch him with the occasional light hearted taunts from the demon. It was like watching a real life cartoon as the demon kept popping out of different parts of the pile while Tom was steadily in pursuit. The toon taunted no more when Thomas finally secured his body and tickled him till he fell apart at the seams from his laughter. Satisfied, Thomas laid Benny's wheezing body down next to the can so he can pull himself together while he retreated towards the house with Allison stopping before he reached the door.

"Hey, I saw these at the market and thought we can try a little idea." Allison held up a roll of orange trash bags.

Tom lifted a brow while taking the roll from her examining them. "What exactly do you want to do with the bags?" He looked back at the bags in hand.

"I think we can fill them with the leaves and paint faces on them like Jack -o- Lanterns since it's too soon to carve a pumpkin." Allison sheepishly grinned.

Her answer was met with a raised brow from her husband along with the hint of a scowl "I guess."

Allison couldn't hide the small frown that formed on her own face. She gently grasped onto Tom's sleeve and nudged him towards the house, but stopped when Benny lightly tugged on her pant leg.

"Are we still going to fill the bags?" He looked up at her noticing her small frown.

Allison bent down wearing a small smile as she rested her hands between Benny's horns. "Can you start filling them for me while go inside for a minute? I'll join you once I'm done."

Benny looked up at Tom before looking back at Allison worried before nodding and gathered up then roll of bags from Tom. He opened up a bag and started stuffing them with leaves while Allison followed Thomas back into the house.

Once inside the house Allison nudged her husband gently "Hey, what's wrong? You've been very quiet lately and you tickled Benny till he fell apart which you normally don't do."

Tom sighed heavily before leaning against the wall. "Sorry, it's just that this time of year reminds me about the time the studio fell. I still get nightmares about it and building that damn machine. Seeing the yellows and browns reminds me of that damn place." He covered the sides if his face. His mind drifted to the time where the halls were echoing with the screams of trapped staff followed by the inky monsters. Ink swallowing the halls and the studio as a whole. His thoughts were disrupted by warm hands placed over his own and had gently directed him to look forward to be met with Allison's soft sympathetic eyes.

"We all have things we regret and still endure the nightmares from that place. A lot of good people died that didn't deserve it, but at least we are alive. You may believe building the ink machine was a mistake and it's your fault, but it's Joey's." Allison gently hugged Tom "He put the monster in the machine, not you. Besides, you did finish the machine at this time of year and with your efforts it helped give birth to our little toon. Benny's birthday is coming up and it's just in time for Halloween."

Allison's words made Tom's eyes go wide. He completely forgot that he finished the machine and made Benny before Halloween. He remembered he had finished the machine in October but couldn't remember when. A small smile graced his face as he leaned his head onto Allison's shoulder. While he always felt guilty about building the machine and the events that followed Allison had bluntly pointed out the fact that he didn't put the magic into the machine, joey did. That his boss is responsible for all the lives lost, not him, and that at the end of the day they made it out with their lives and the lives of their toon companions. Despite the hell they've seen, Benny and Bendy both were the lights in their lives and that one of them would be celebrating his first true birthday alongside a fall holiday.

"Sorry for that. I-" Tom silenced when Allison put a finger gently over his lips smiling warmly at him.

"There is nothing to apologize for. We are all human and have our crosses to bare. We will have our tender moments and we are entitled to them, but we need to have the strength to keep walking. Not just for ourselves, but for those around us as well. Now c'mon. Benny doesn't know about his birthday and I want to combine it with Halloween since they are so close together. Put on a smile for him, he's already looking forward to Halloween." Allison gently grabbed Thomas's sleeves and tugged on him pulling him outside to join Benny in stuffing the orange trash bags.

The family spent half an hour stuffing all the bags to the brim to make the nice round uniform shape before tying them off. Once they were done and they made sure the bags wouldn't open, Benny's stomach grew teeth as it took on a smaller version of his 2nd mouth as Ragdoll. He opened his 'mouth' and allowed the ink to pool at its base before taking a small cup and scooping out a cups worth of the accumulated ink before closing back up. He got a few concerned looks from his parents, but told them it was completely safe and that it was only excess ink. After some persuasion Tom and Allison finally grabbed 3 paint brushes and dipped them into the ink. Allison showed Benny how to make a basic Jack-o-lantern face as she carefully painted one on one of the bags getting a nod from the demon.

Benny dipped his brush in the ink and looked at the orange bag before him. He wanted to paint his own design and asked Allison if he had to repeat the face she had drawn earning a 'no'. A small grin grew on his face, he wanted to draw his friends! He carefully started outlining his best friend SINdy's face on the bag before carefully filling in the black along with the dripping ink from SINdy's eyes. He liked how it turned out. While he started painting then other Bendy he knew, both Tom and Allison looked at his Jack-o-Lanterns with increasing concern. Allison was dead certain something was wrong when Benny painted a strange looking cat with a large grin, a cat she remembered had once appeared in her yard along with an Ink demon she did not know.

"B-Benny?" She approached the little plushtoon.

He looked up at her just as he finished painting an outline of a Bendy that wasn't filled in with black and had round eyes instead of pie cuts with little bags making it look sleepy. "Hmm?"

"Umm… what are these?" She gestured to the various bags the toon painted. Depictions of beast Bendy on one bag, a strange eyed Bendy leaking ink from his eyes, an orange bendy, another with a white in the pie cut, a humanoid toon with a halo and the inky cat she remembered.

Benny looked at her worried with a small frown forming on his face. He wanted to paint his friends, but forgot that his parents never met them and after the incident with Shadow it left his mom shaken.

"Ummm…. Can we talk about it later?" He nervously fidgeted earning a raised brow from his father.

Allison bent down and gently rested her hand on his head. "Fine, but for now let's finish up and head inside for dinner." Her comment earned a small nod from the toon.

Benny went back to painting leaving Allison and Tom to watch. Allison suspected that the images Benny was painting were other characters he somehow knew. If that was the case, how? When? Where? Benny didn't go out unless he was with her or her husband and Tom would have mentioned something if they bumped into another demon. Especially if it was like the one that looked like Bendy in his ink demon form that came for the ink cat and kitten. She pondered over many possibilities while Tom silently watched with equal concern.

Tom knew he only made two Bendy's with the ink Machine and after Allison's explanation of her encounter with another Bendy he couldn't help but question how many there were. He could have sworn the accursed machine had been shut down till Henry accidentally started it up again 30 years later. God he hoped that Joey didn’t somehow make more of them. IF that’s the case where are they? How did one suddenly appear at his home after all this time? His mind raced with thoughts and potential scenarios before he glanced at Allison. He knew his face must had betrayed him as she lightly smiled and rested her hand on his shoulder whispering 'I'll handle it' before urging him back inside to get ready for dinner. Truth was he didn’t want to leave her, but Benny was the only one that would know of any other demons as well as to be able to fight back if need be. He’ll have to trust her to find out what’s going on from their little plushtoon.

Allison watched his husband reluctantly retreat towards the home occasionally glancing back before going inside. She knew he was concerned and truth be told, so was she, but the last thing she wanted was for him to fly off the handle at the toon in fear. It wouldn't solve anything. She took a deep breath and walked back to Benny who had just finished the last strokes on his bags.

"So Benny" her words caused him to flinch before he looked up at her "Do you want to talk about it?" She bent down and sat in the grass patting the ground next to her.

The toon looked at her with concern, but knew there was no getting out of it. Benny let out a sigh in defeat before setting his brush back in his hammerspace along with the excess ink and sat next to Allison. He felt warm hands gently lift him up setting him on her lap hugging him. They stayed like that for awhile with the toon completely content at her warmth while she lightly rocked back and forth before he heard her speak.

"So." Her voice was soft. "Who are they?" Allison put on a soft smile trying to mask her concerns. Being gentle with the toon was the only way she knew she would get a straight answer from him, unlike her husbands breaking down the front door approach.

Benny could tell she was anxious but was trying to hide it. His friends can be a bit energetic but they mean no harm. He took a deep breath before sighing and gestured to the first bag he painted with an oval eyed Bendy with an iris and pupil whose eyes were leaking ink along with his widows peak. His best friend that stumbled into his hut one day and since then they hung out at every opportunity. "His name is SINdy."

"Sin...dy?" Allison lifted a brow while following Benny’s gesture to the bag.

"He's my best friend and is really nice and fun to hang around. He can't speak though, and has a cardboard sign he carries with him that writes what he wants to say. He accidentally fell through a portal in his world that lead him to ours" Benny watched as a look of horror flashed on Allison's face "But only he can come through the portal." He quickly explained. "Nothing from his studio can follow him as its an ability unique to only him." He watched as Allison looked at him and then back at the bag concerned. He could tell she didn't like the idea of a demon coming and going without her knowledge.

Allison looked at the bag mulling over Benny's explanation. It did concern her that another strange Bendy had just popped up in their home or somewhere nearby without their knowledge. Then again it was a serious question as to how Shadow and Cloudy ended up in her yard that day, a question that never got answered. What was more baffling was the 'his world' comment. Did that mean there are other worlds similar to theirs? Did Shadow and the intimidating Bendy come from another world? How do the Bendy's just come and go without anyone noticing? Before she got too deep into thought she felt a small tug on her sleeve making her look back at the little devil in her arms.

"He is still stuck there." The toon spoke softly as turned his head towards the bag "He is stuck at another version of the studio with his father and a demon. They haven't been able to escape despite their best efforts so far and they have a horrible demon there trapped with them and I can't help him other than to let him stay here for brief moments."

Benny's words tugged at a painful string in Allison's memory. The pain of confinement and inability to obtain freedom from a living hell. Seeing Benny's concern over another Bendy who can only get a fleeting taste of freedom before having to go back was heartbreaking. If Benny called this 'SINdy' his best friend then SINdy must be similar to him. A little sweetheart who is trapped in hell on earth.

"What about the other one? The one with the odd horns?" She softly spoke gaining the toons attention once more.

"Oh he is Bendy" Benny looked at the bag. "He has a 'reading room' where not only does he have a library but also portals to other worlds. To him our world looks like a book that he can enter." Benny looked back at Allison and wore a small smile "He and SINdy are the ones who's been helping me read. SINdy will sit with me reading and will help me break down the words while Bendy provides books as helps out as well. Bendy loves bringing over adventure books to where we sometimes make little toys out of either his ink or my fabrics to play with. He is really good at making sculptures. Though occasionally if we have a bit of a problem with some of the reading or if we get a bit too loud Confessional will come out to either help us read or to tell us to tone it down so we don't get into trouble."

Allison lifted a brow "Confessional? Which one's that?" He sounded like he was older than the small group as she looked around trying to see if any of the images on the bags could be perceived as an older figure.

"Ummm admittedly I didn't draw him" Benny mumbled making her look back at him in surprise. "He lives inside SINdy and only speaks on occasion, SINdy did a few drawings of him but he doesn’t come out."

Allison raised a brow "Inside SINdy?"

"Benny reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a piece of paper and a bit of ink. "SINdy is like me except he was a cardboard cutout instead if a doll." he explained as he drew a rough outline of the toon, Allison nodded as he listened. "SINdy wears his heart out in the open and if he's in trouble he can remove it allowing Confessional to come out.” Benny drew a small heart in the outlines chest and then a ghostly figure that wore a mask with teeth. “Confessional watches over SINdy kinda like a big brother, but he is a real demon. He is pretty nice, but if we mess up too much we get a lecture." Benny sheepishly chuckled.

Allison listened to Benny's description of Confessional's relationship with the toons as well as another Henry whom was turned into an Angel toon in his world. Both man and demon oversee the younger toons and provide support or words of wisdom as needed. He admitted that they liked to visit the Angel Henry as often as they can and all of them have been learning sign language from him since he is mute. Uncle Henry as the group calls him has a Bendy as well, but he gets a little clingy to his father figure and can be a bit standoffish at the other toons wanting to spend time with their uncle. The description of the other Bendy being clingy to his father nearly made Allison laugh since she remembered that when they got out of the studio Benny was almost glued to her. It was amusing to see that many of the little demons are somewhat clingy to their parental figures.

Benny then proceeded to describe a familiar sight to Allison. Beast Bendy. This Bendy has escaped his studio with his Henry (Allison couldn't help but notice the steadily growing Henry count) but he was stuck in his beast form for a long time. He was eventually able to revert back to normal and is pretty good at domestic chores as he was showing them how to properly fold clothes and clean. His mother listened to the tales of this Bendy chuckling at the mere thought of Beast Bendy folding T-shirts while looking totally pleased with himself. Despite his looks he was a good boy at heart and had a strong desire to help his older parents.

A look of nervousness flashed on Benny's face as he looked at the last bag, the bendy with only with an outline and round sleepy looking eyes. He chuckled as he pointed at the bag. "He is Fate. He's technically a god who looks like a Bendy at the moment. He's pretty funny and can shape shift into many animals. Sometimes if we are wondering what an animal looks like he'll turn into it to show us. Though he is a prankster through and through his friend Goldy who is another Bendy but much taller, keeps Fate somewhat in check. Both of them are funny when together as Fate likes to play with Goldy."

A fond smile crept on Allison's features as she listened to the remainder of Benny's stories of his friends. He told her that occasionally another Bendy named Ben drops Shadow off on occasion where they play for a little while in his hut. Cloudy can’t come over as Ben doesn’t want the kitten traversing the dark puddles with him for fear of losing him which is understandable. Shadow loves to sit and listen to the toons read or will play with some of Benny’s yarn. He described all the times his friends came over and they mostly kept to his little hut playing or working on little craft projects. Allison realized that the common denominator was that small stone building that they decided to let Benny use.

"Benny" the toon stopped talking and looked up at her. She put on a warm smile. "Can I see your hut?"

The toon looked nervous but nodded. He slid off her lap allowing Allison to stand up and she followed him to the stone hut towards the back of the property.

Allison remembered when they first moved into the home they didn't know about the hut till Tom explored the backyard and discovered that what they thought was just a wall of weeping willow trees was actually a ring of them and in the center was a small stone shed large enough to be a single room. The roof if the shed needed a little work, but the building itself was sound and Tom decided that it should be a playroom for Benny for on the off chance that people come over and he can't be seen. She had a hard time believing that this was a gathering place for other Bendy's until Benny opened the door.

The interior of the room was well kept with a small pile of pillows beneath a what looked like an ink stain on the wall. A small table had been set up with a small pile of books and a few papers along with a few drawings. On one side of the room was a bookcase filled with books and some of the titles she did not recognize at all. As she paced about the room Benny watched her nervously. She asked about the stain on the wall learning it was a portal for SINdy, the strange book with a stitch pattern being something similar for Bendy. She asked about the various little projects the toons had been working on together all the while Benny answered her nervously.

"You're not mad ... are you? He wrung his gloved hands together.

His inquiry was met with a smile and a gentle hand on his head. "Sweetie. I'm not too mad and I wish that you were more comfortable with saying something sooner. I admit when Shadow showed up along with the other Bendy I was scared, but if I had been warned about the possibility of toons hopping from one world to the next I could have been better prepared. You do know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Benny nodded in understanding with a small smile gracing his features, she wasn't mad at him. Next thing he knew Allison scooped him up lightly tickling him in her arms earning a small fit of laughter from him.

"C'mon let's go eat some dinner" his mother cooed.

Allison carried Benny into the home and set him down at the table only to have Thomas give him the miniature stare down before Allison threatened to muzzle her husband before he got started. Benny was uncomfortable eating next to his father especially after their earlier episode with him, but Allison reassured him that nothing was wrong and that she'll talk to his dad later. The toon ate his dinner before excusing himself to his room to read before bed.

While the toon was disposed of Allison took a moment to explain to her husband as to what Benny told her for which the man naturally got angry. He calmed when she bluntly told him that the reason why Benny never said anything was because the visiting demons were his friends and didn't want to cause any harm and kept to only the hut and on the rare occasion the backyard.

Thomas let out and exasperated sigh while rubbing his temples "So you're telling me that there are more of them and that they can somehow hop from their world to ours. That somehow the stone hut outback is a meeting place for them and they can communicate with each other." His statement got a nod. "And you're telling me you want to invite his friends over to spend the night and then go Trick-or-treating as his Birthday present? Personally I don't think it's a good idea" he crossed his arms in a huff.

"I figured you didn't, but Benny has no reason to lie about his friends let alone his best friend. He was scared to tell me the truth, but fully admitted to everything he and his friends have been doing. I think things will work out as they sound not all that different from him. Plus it's a night to where they can openly run around and not have to hide their horns." Allison wrapped her arms around her husband. "I'll handle things so you don't have to worry."

Toms shoulders sagged as he rested his head on her shoulders returning the hug "You know I will anyways."

His statement was met with a chuckle and a peck on the cheek. "I know, and I appreciate it."

Allison broke the hug from her husband and finished washing the dishes before cleaning up the remainder of the kitchen. Tom retreated to Benny's room to check on him and to make sure the toon was tucked into bed. Allison snickered when she heard Tom's shouts as Benny was roughhousing with the man as the toon clearly wasn't ready for bed and was in a playful mood.

A thoughtful expression graces Allison's face as she heard Benny whoop in triumph over defeating his father before his cheers turned to cries of 'nooo'. Since both were disposed of she quickly retreated to her room and dug around her dresser. Her grin stretched wider when she grasped her prize and quickly retreated to the kitchen seeking out any spare stationary. She set a small watch down and made sure the time was correct and that Am and Pm were correct before carefully writing out a small note.

Dear. Mr Sindy

I would like to invite you to my son Benny the stitched demon's first birthday party. His Birthday is actually on the 27th which is 2 days from now, but I'd like to celebrate it on the 30th and 31st with the 31st being Halloween. If you are able, I would like for you to come over on the 30th in the morning and to stay with us until the evening of the 31st. Room and board will be provided. I hope to see you soon.

Sincerely,

Allison Connor

The letter was carefully folded and placed inside an envelope along with the watch. Allison double checked the watch to make sure the day and time were accurate before sliding it in and sealing the envelope. She wrote the SINdy's name on the front before pulling out several other pieces of paper and wrote out similar letters, but requesting for the toons to arrive on the morning of the 31st. She carefully addressed the envelopes to Bendy, Fate, Beast Bendy, Angel Henry and Shadow. She paused briefly at Shadows letter as she wasn’t completely certain the ink cat could read but suspected it could, if not the other Bendy, ‘Ben’ as Benny called him, should be able to.

With the last stroke of the pen Allison grinned at the finishing touches on the envelopes on the letters before gently sealing them. She carefully grasped onto her treasures before slipping out the back door and made her way towards the back of the house where Benny's hut was concealed.

The hut wasn't so welcoming at night as it was during the day. The willow trees cast eerie shadows consuming the structure they guarded, almost as if they were warding off any intruders. Allison slipped between the trees and felt around the wall of the structure making mental note to have Tom install a small light so they can at least see the door. Her fingers finally grazed the border of the door before she felt around further until her fingers felt the smooth metal of the door knob. A triumphant grin graced her face as her hand eagerly grasped onto the door knob and twisted before pulling on the door. The door didn’t budge. She looked at the door baffled as to how Benny simply opened it for her earlier with ease. She tucked the envelopes under her arm and used both hands to try and open the door. A small twist and a few tugs later the door finally gave way granting her access to it's interior. Her fingers immediately sought out a light switch that cast a warm soft glow on the room.

'Great. Now how do I get this to them?' Allison pondered as she paced around the room. She ravaged her memory on Benny’s commentary about how he communicates with his friends. She noticed the book on Benny’s table that had an elaborate cover with the characteristic outline of Bendys head. Benny commented about how this was to the other Bendy, the owner of the reading room which should be the easiest to contact. She looked at the envelope addressed to the first toon and carefully lifted the cover of the book and slid the invitation under it’s pages. God she hoped this worked and that she wasn’t grasping straws. While she waited to see if there would be some sort of response or if the letter even go through she turned her attention to the large ink stain that was on the wall. SINdy's portal and the one she needed to contact the most.

Allison studied the ink on the wall wondering how exactly she was gonna get the letter to him. Benny said it was a portal to the toon for which Henry’s Bendy had commented on the dark puddles being like a tunnel. However that wasn’t helping her now as she didn’t want to ask for help from her toon as it is supposed to be a surprise with his friends coming over. Allison lightly pouted with her growing frustration as to how the ink worked for the demons. She recalled Bendy walking out of the ink and Benny reaching into himself to pull out what he needed. Maybe she could just copy them and put the letter in the ink as well. She paused her thoughts and looked at the letter. ‘Gotta test the theory first.’

A quick search later and Allison held a small piece of paper before the ink spot and she steeled herself before gently folding the paper vertically to give her hand and the wall some distance before gently placing the edge of the paper to the ink. Must to her annoyance the paper looked like it was only covered in ink until she felt a small pull and the paper disappeared into the ink soaked wall. She waited with baited breath wondering if it went through before another piece of paper emerged from the wall with a note written on it.

'Hiya! How are you?' There was a little happy face drawn on the side of the paper.

Allison chuckled at the note. She couldn’t believe it worked! This must be SINdy that Benny spoke of. She looked at the envelope and carefully placed it on the ink spot and gently pushed it through along with a reply written on the note. 'Please read this, I would like to see you soon.'

---------- On the other side ----------

SINdy was getting ready for bed and was passing by the recording booth and was shocked to see a piece of paper emerge from an ink stain in the booth. It had to be Benny! Setting his sleepiness aside for a moment as his dad could wait a bit before bed, he quickly picked up the paper and carefully ran the tip of his finger under his eye before scribbling his message and passed it back into the ink.

His grin stretched wide in anticipation from his friends response only to get an envelope with a paper attached to it saying 'please read this, I would like to see you soon.' His face morphed to confusion as he plucked the envelope out of the ink feeling that there was a small weight to the parcel. He carefully pulled the envelope open and slid the watch out looking at it confused as to what was the purpose of the time piece before his eyes landed on the invitation.

His eyes grew wide at the invitation as he was instantly excited about it being his friend's birthday. Worry quickly replaced his excitement as he realized that the sender beyond the portal was Benny's mother, that somehow his family found out about him. A small frown formed on his face as he reread the letter. She wanted him to come over to play? Would she be ok with someone like him?

SINdy grabbed a black piece of paper and thought for a little while before carefully writing a response.

Dear Mrs. Connor,

I would love to come, but are you ok about another demon like me there? Benny told me about shadow and Ben. I don't want to scare you since I don't look like a normal 'Bendy'.

He carefully folded the paper and slid the note back through the portal and waited. SINdy had to admit he was excited about being in Benny's home for the first time, but was also wary. Benny had told him of his mothers very concerned reaction about Shadow and Ben whom showed up out of the blue one day. Benny's father his world's Thomas Connor reacted even worse given his history with the Ink Machine.

SINdy fidgeted while he waited for a response. God he hoped Benny's mom would allow him over. He would really like to play with his friend without fear of being seen, let alone the possibility of being told to never come back.. A little piece of paper emerged through the ink, he slowly reached and plucked it out of the puddle and began to read with his eyes growing wide.

Dear Mr. Sindy,

Regardless of how you look I'd still like for you to come over. How a demon looks on the outside doesn't attribute to how they are on the inside. Looks don't matter. Benny said you were his best friend and that is more than enough for me. The backdoor will be left open on the morning of the 30th. Please be there.

Ps. I don’t know how to contact the remaining guests. If you are able, can you please send these invitations to them for me?

A grin stretched itself across SINdy's face. He couldn't believe it. Benny's mom really wanted him over regardless of his nature and how he looks. He hastily grabbed a paper to reply.

'Thank you, I'll be there. I will gladly deliver them for you as a thank you for inviting me.’

Once the letter vanished into the inky void, SINdy grabbed the invitation and carefully looked at the watch. He waited patiently for the remaining invitations to come through the portal for which he quickly stowed them in his hammerspace. The little cardboard demon could hardly contain his excitement and practically skipped down the hall to his father’s side eagerly showing him the invitation for which earned a chuckle from the man and a promise that he would be careful. He was going to a party! The little wandering demon leapt onto his father's lap leaning into him while his gloves were on his back, it was the best he could do to hug his dad since he has no arms. Now all he had to do was wait. He looked at the watch hoping for the day to hurry and come before he was tucked into bed. Sammy turned off the small light they had in his office while SINdy looked at the little glowing hands of the watch. SINdy vowed that the first thing he would do in the morning was to send off the invitations to the rest of his friends.

----------- Benny's world----------

Allison chuckled at the thank you note and quickly pocketed the page before checking the other Bendy book. To her pleasure the invitation was gone and had 3 simple words; ‘I’ll be there’. She could hardly contain her own excitement but decided to brush it aside for a touch of caution and determination. She had never met these toons before and truly didn’t know what to expect from them. She could only hope that she wasn’t getting in over her head, but there were 2 older figures that act like guardians so it won’t be just her and Tom watching the demons.

The cool night air welcomed Allison giving her a small chill as she left herself out of Benny's shed and quickly retreated back towards the house. The woman made a mental note to get extra blankets since the nights were cooler now and with them have a guest sleeping over they needed some extra covers. Allison reentered the home to find it quiet and still unlike how she had left it a few minutes ago. Assuming that Tom had finally wrangled Benny into bed she gingerly strode down the hall to her bedroom. Much to her surprise, the room was empty as there was no grumbling figure in the bed as Tom is usually worn out after playing with Benny. Lifting a brow, Allison back tracked to Benny's room to locate her missing husband. She stopped in the doorway smiling at the sight before her. Tom and Benny were both tangled up amongst the blankets on Benny's bed and both were out like a light, looks like their little game ended in a draw.

Allison chuckled and turned off the light singing a small ‘good night’ as she closed the door. It was a relief to see that the two boys made up after their little tense moment earlier, though she could already see a tickle torture session in the morning since Tom is too big for Benny’s bed. If Benny was already this excited then she couldn't wait to see how his Birthday unfolded.

#batim stitched au #Allison Connor #batim allison #thomas connor #batim thomas #benny the stitched demon #benny the stitched devil #benny the stitch devil #benny the stitch demon #SINdy the wandering demon #wandering sin bendy #wandering is a terrible sin #bendy the ink demon #other batim Ocs are mentioned and will come later

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justimajin · 6 years ago

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Catching a Case of the Doctor Blues ⌠Part 12⌡

⇢ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

⇢ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ (5.3k) Doctor/Surgeon AU, Enemies to Lovers AU

⇢ Summary: When asked about Dr. Kim, a string of beautifully aligned words are ready spew from your lips. You could possibly go on and on about how his wonderful stubbornness wasn’t similar to talking to a brick wall, or how his observation skills were especially great in preparing your blood vessels for a drastic rupture or even how one gracious stare of his nearly had you on the verge of ripping your essential documents in half. But it seems that, perhaps, there was a lot more to Dr. Kim then what meets the eye…

⇢ Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, graphical descriptions of surgery, severe emotional distress

⇢ Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

⇢ Next Update: Friday, May 31

Walking outside of the sterilizing room, the blue clothing sticks to your skin as a shaky exhale is released from your lips. Through the windows of the hospital, the sky is painted in the colour of ink and silence echoes within the hallways when the sole sound being emitted is from your thudding heartbeat. You anxiously race your compelling feet as you draw closer and closer to the operating room.

The whole ordeal was not looking to be so terrible in the hindsight. Injuries that could quickly be patched up and taken care of within the amount of time you had on your hands. However, the situation grows deeply complex when the realization had dropped on you that you weren’t going to be performing the surgical procedure you had on expectation.

Instead, you were going to through what is definitely one of the hardest yet natural processes of life. And its entire method is known not to leave its workers with an ounce of rest.

Your mind flashes back to when it had sparked the connection. When your head was spinning at the implication Dr. Kim had given.

“It appears as if we will need to induce labour.”

“L-labour?” You stammered out; the words awfully laced with pending tension. From your own physical observation, you could already tell the woman was pregnant, but that does not justify having to go through the lengthy procedure.

“She was involved in a collision.” Dr. Kim explains, despite being usually calm you notice that he appears to be just as shaken up as you were, “Meaning the baby could have potentially been harmed and if that’s the case-“

“The mother will die if she doesn’t go through labour.” You finish, already comprehending what he was trying to get across. But it deters from why declaring that it was the best option to use in this particular case.

“Look over here.” He points to the woman’s hip bone, which was situated higher up then usual.

It’s then when it finally snaps you back into what he was trying to get you to understand – the woman’s hip bone was crucial for labour as it was the bone structure that assisted in pushing the baby out. The joined hip bone’s need to be teared apart for the baby to safely arrive.

But the necessary detail here is that if her hipbone was damaged in any way, it could be fatal to the baby, whose crown was resting right beside it and whose life depended on staying within the amniotic sac inside.

The very thought shakes you inside out, “We need to do an X-ray.” You pause, “Is that safe?”

He nods, “Should be. We can also figure out how many months she’s been in.”

You and Dr. Kim work swiftly together, a circumstance you both had not been expecting. It dawns on you that it was likely because both of you had never had a pregnant patient.

Did you study about pregnancy? Of course. Do you understand the step by step procedure? Definitely. Were you trained what to do in the situation? Many times.

Had you ever been faced with a pregnant mother involved in a car crash and hanging on a mere thread with the arriving threat of a miscarriage?

You wish Namjoon was here, knowing the man’s knowledge was incredible about such matter but you can’t afford to wait when there are two lives at stake in the moment.

A part of you is even glad that Dr. Kim is working well with you, for you would have to relay on each other immensely in the next couple of hours.

The X-ray comes through and your heart sinks when in fact, Dr. Kim was correct about his keen observation.

Entering the operating room, you are surprised to see the woman had regained consciousness and was attempting to speak through the pain of her wounds. Her eyes land on you when you stand by the door, but Dr. Kim continues to talk to her.

“We need to prepare you for surgery. It’s crucial to do your labour now.” Dr. Kim states, sounding like he was repeating his words.

“B-but I-I’m only eight months p-pregnant.” The woman says and you trail closer when you discover that she appears to dangling in a frenzy stage from the shock the accident washed over her and occasionally wincing at the immense pain radiating in her abdomen.

“You are but we can’t keep you like this. Your child’s life is in danger.” Her eyes waver when he brings up the life she was currently carrying and with a shaky exhale, she nods for you to inject her with anesthesia so she can be unconscious and numbed for the duration of the surgery.

Once she’s been injected, you patiently wait and turn to Dr. Kim who was occupied in hurriedly organizing the surgical equipment. “How are we going to do this? Going through normal labour might be too much of a strain on her considering her injuries.”

“I assume you know how to do a C-section.” You widen your eyes and he looks up to stare at you. A C-section was an alternative method used in situations when the mother was not in the best shape to do the required muscle work in labour, but it involves making multiple incisions and demanded that you be extremely cautious so no damage is done to other functioning systems within her body.

You move closer to her, taking short breaths to prepare yourself for the incoming whirlwind you need to face. Dr. Kim joins you eventually and reaches over to pluck a single scalpel to begin.

It’s incredibly quiet in the room, only two surgeons and a patient present in the entire vicinity. It shouldn’t be difficult, for you and Dr. Kim are both capable individuals.

But even that mere reassurance isn’t enough, especially when your thoughts keep sitting down on the fact that once you start the surgery, the responsibility of two patients will be delicately placed in your hand.

You can’t turn away from this, you remind yourself.

However, the clock is still ticking threateningly at you and Dr. Kim carefully pushes down the sharp tip, bleeding it down into a hollow line.

You grab a second scalpel and start to assist him, ensuring that the incisions were properly made in the abdomen. A C-section requires you to create enough room to pull the child out but the potential threat that lingers on doing so is to not deeply penetrate into the mother’s skin, for this could cause scaring in the long run and make having another child exceedingly hard.

Keeping this solid warning in mind, you continue to trace around her skin and your eyes are boring lasers, glued to every piece of skin you carefully open and navigating yourself to the best of your own ability.

Aside from the occasional monitor beeping and the sound of you shuffling, a shaky exhale pierces through and you furrow your brows, glancing in front of you.

The amount of incisions you have finished are massive in comparison to the doctor who was still working on one of them. He appears as he usually does and how you were currently feeling, focused and unmoving, but you watch him even closer when he seems too focused.

It’s then you catch the faint tremble of his hands, so well hidden away from your sight that you realize what was actually going on.

Your hand staggers for a moment and you bite your lip, recoiling it. But then you re-consider and slide it over, briefly applying pressure just how he had once done for you.

His reaction is instant, head jerking and shoulders flinching when your hand makes contact, however you welcome his confused gaze when you hold it with your eyes. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you retract back into your operative work and the doctor beside you does as well, this time coming back better than before.

A clink of two scalpels hitting against the metal tray resonates through the room and its now the easiest part of the surgery is done. The amniotic sac – the fluid the baby is protected in – is thankfully still in a reasonable shape but your eyes stagger over to the adjacent hip bone that appears to be completely destroyed with the clearer view.

“The amniotic sac hasn’t been entirely ruptured.” You whisper.

“The head was protected during the collision then.” Dr. Kim says with a sigh of relief, “Hopefully the child is okay as well.”

You draw yourself closer to her pelvic area, needing to burst the protective membrane and quickly get the baby out in time. Afterwards, the umbilical cord will need to be cut and the placenta has to be removed, but for now you needed to get the child out at any costs.

“Ready?” Dr. Kim asks and you nod. He carefully maneuvers over to where your hands are situated and after a brief second passes, large amount of liquid gushes out. It continues to spill out and you reach inside, grasping carefully onto the head of the child before gently pulling as the liquid piles up.

You’re breathing extremely hard, choked and ragged sounds escaping out from you when Dr. Kim quickly secures the remaining liquid and brings his attention over to the small human resting in your arms. He reaches over to severe the cord attaching the child to their mother and you drape a towel among the bloody residue sticking to your skin.

Dr. Kim occupies himself with ensuring that the placenta drains out but your eyes are glued to the innocent pink face in your arms.

“Dr. L/N?” He questions, wondering why you’ve gone silent when the surgery was clearly a success.

“S-She’s not crying.” You stare at him with frightened eyes, specks of water threatening to flow out. Dr. Kim’s expression also drowns when the mutual fear you two had shared was coming true.

“Are there any injuries?” He hurriedly inquires and you respond by quietly shaking your head, water now escaping.

A bitter silence is created in the operation room when all your efforts leak down into the drain. You still keep your eyes trained on the small newborn, eyes flickering around for anything – a subtle movement, a gesture of life, even crying – but the baby is completely unresponsive.

While you stand with your arms caressed around it in defeat, Dr. Kim isn’t giving up.

He takes the child from you and quickly wipes her down clean. Hurriedly, he starts examining for anything that could have been of harm and you slowly trail over to him, watching him gently rub the child’s back and then taking suctional equipment to remove any liquid that could have possibly entered into the lungs.

His actions are moving, but it’s difficult to watch him continuously try and fall into defeat and you begin to wonder if you should simply tell him to stop.

Just as you’re lifting your hand, he presses his lips against the small mouth for air to enter the lungs and then eagerly watches – but no response greets him in return.

You finally speak up, “Dr. Kim, there’s no point…” Your voice comes out coarse and empty.

He pauses for a moment, eyes still on the child when a deep sigh overcomes him. You flinch when the loud thud hits the table, shoulders slumping down in loss when he places the base of his hand against his forehead. Squeezing your eyes shut, you silently trail over to you when you can recognize that both of you were feeling in that exact same thing in that one split second – failure.

“Dr. Kim?” You ask, trying to get any glimpse of him when he remains slotted down in the same position. He pauses before he raises his head to look at you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many twisted emotions in his eyes, ranging from pure grief to an ultimate downfall.

You give him a tight smile, clueless even to how to comfort him but trying as it’s too hard to see him like this when the man is usually so composed and calm.

You move forward a place a hand on his shoulder, attempting to slowly get him away from the counter so you can resume the surgery and after another deep exhale, he obeys.

A small hiccup resonates into the silent room.

Both of you don’t move even the slightest, staring at each other with wide eyes and wondering on the inside if you were possibly hallucinating from the accumulated stress you had experienced. But the hiccup resonates again, morphing in a small cry and suddenly a mix of everything releases – the relief, the tears and the stretched smiles.

“We did it…” You whisper and your hands hover slightly over your mouth, staring down at the bundle of joy pooling out cries when it can finally breathe into the new environment after being trapped inside her mother during the crash for so long. You continue to gaze at the child but then to your own surprise, you’re being tugged into a hug by a fellow shaken doctor.

“D-Dr. Kim?” You stutter when he keeps a firm lock on you. Yet your confused expression dissolves without delay when you notice his trembling shoulders, dampness beginning to pool at your shoulder.

You’re completely thrown off by the display, but with a sincere smile you actually move to reciprocate the hug with water escaping your own eyes. Both of you are a horrible dirty mess; blood, sweat and tears clinging to you uncomfortably but all of that just disappears when the small life you were desperately trying to save is now taking her very first breaths.

After awkwardly breaking apart from each other, Dr. Kim turns away to the side from you and you decide its best to give him a moment from all the overwhelming emotions flooding into the room. You make sure the child is still okay after they hiccup a couple more times and you register that there definitely was blockage happening in her air pipe if she continuing like this. Quickly coaxing her to sleep, you turn your attention back onto the mother completely and Dr. Kim soon joins you, making you repress the soft smile at the man’s pink eyes.

The final part simply involved stitching up the incisions you had made and ensuring that no damage had been done to the mother in the process. The stitches are to stay in place until the incision areas finally heal and the mother is in optimal health to get them removed, which usually occurs once she leaves the hospital.

Once the operation is entirely completed, both of you work diligently to patch up the mother’s remaining injuries. After that is done, its finally time for you to leave for home when you exit the operation room.

The hospital is dead silent when you peek your head outside, glancing at the red letters being displayed on the clock overhead declaring that it was four in the morning. With a sigh, you know exactly what you want to do in that single moment, looking down to see the wonderful array of different fluids covering your blue scrubs.

Changing out of them quickly, you decide it would be best to go home and shower as much as you can before getting some rest. It dawns on you a bit that coming into work the next day might be too exhaustive on your body, but you shrug it off.

If the hospital needed you, it needed you. Simple as that.

Walking alongside the hallway, you walk by the room the mother and child were currently situated in, eager to get a second glance before leaving.

But someone else beats you to that equation, especially when he fondly gazes down at the resting child. He’s also had the same intention as you, cleaning up and making sure they were alright before calling it a night.

“Dr. Kim?” He snaps out of it, slightly jolting when you stroll behind him and smile at the soft lidded eyes now resting after the chaos going on in the operative room.

“Are you going home now?” He whispers in a low voice, watching you with intent but being careful not to wake the child.

You nod, “I think we both could use some rest.” A small laugh escapes you and to your surprise, his own laughter joins in as well.

“Do you want me to drop you off? It’s late outside.” He gestures towards the window outside and the darkness is a bit daunting, so you shake your head in agreement.

You spend a couple of minutes still there until you mutually agree that collectively everyone in that room needed some form of sleep soon. Turning off the lights, you follow behind the man when he directs himself towards the parking lot and you almost want to let an astonished smile decorate your lips after witnessing a whole other side to him tonight.

Usually your morning routine consisted of the following things – wake up and eat some breakfast, get ready for work and make sure your apartment is locked before leaving.

This routine as shown, is fairly simple and almost automatic to you. A large amount of thought isn’t needed in regard to doing this because you have become so accustomed to it over time that the actions come off entirely naturally. It’s familiar to the point that you always do it.

Translating this over to your interactions is something that also comes natural since relationships have been established since day one. You naturally know how to talk each person in the specific way you identify with them and there isn’t much precious thought given to this either.

But this morning, some of those mundane routines get disrupted. You wake up this morning completely exhausted, every single bone in your body aching and demanding for you to keep lying down as you try fight it off. There’s barely any energy to eat breakfast and getting ready is also a mess, with you miserably dragging your arms around along the way.

The process of coming to work is also flipped around, minimal interaction happening because you acknowledge how physically tired you were from getting only a couple of hours of sleep after the long operation.

But your eyes are on alert for one thing, or rather one certain individual. He doesn’t seem to have entered the hospital yet and you don’t think you could have possibly missed him as your eager vision was constantly scanning the hallways.

“Dr. L/N?” Jin asks in a confused tone when you occasionally leave the office and look around despite having a stack of work to do.

“What?” You retort, coming back into the office at a dissatisfied sigh.

“Are you feeling okay? Was the surgery that tough?” Your intern grows concerned when he sees you like this, as for him watching you quietly working for hours was his type of a normal interaction.

“I’m feeling fine…” You set your lips in a firm line, sitting down in your chair, “If you see Dr. Kim around, just let me know.”

If Jin was confused before, he’s drowning in bafflement now. He was thinking that maybe you were waiting for Dr. Park or Dr. Min to show up, not Dr. Kim.

Right then the familiar taps of shoes against the surface increases its intensity when it comes closer to your office and then drifts off, causing you to quickly glance outside your office door. You can only catch a glimpse of his back, but you’re a hundred percent certain that it is indeed Dr. Kim.

“I’ll be back Jin!” You say behind you, trailing after him.

The man appears to be in a rush; taking longer strides and glancing ever so occasionally into the doors leading to rooms. You raise an eyebrow when he sweeps by his office and continues walking, not even giving a gesture out in turning.

“Y/N?” A voice suddenly questions in a confused tone, but you gesture to Yoongi that you’ll come back to talk to him.

Once you turn around, you lose complete sight of him again and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Where were you going in such a hurry?” Yoongi inquires, striding closer to you.

“I was trying to follow Dr. Kim.” You sigh, the man vanishing into thin air.

“Follow Dr. Kim?” Yoongi exclaims, “Isn’t it usually trying to stay away from him?”

“I needed to talk to him about something…” You start to fumble with your hands, down-casting your head and Yoongi can’t help but let the small soft smile resurface on him.

“What did you need to tell him?”

As the question leaves him, you instantly freeze and turn into a stuttering mess.

“I-I just need to go talk to him!” You huff out, throwing your hands in the air as you go back to looking for the specific doctor. Yoongi merely chuckles at the interaction, shaking his head.

After a considerable amount of time going through multiple hallways to locate him, you finally find Dr. Kim. However, nothing could have even prepared you for the sight that you were going to witness.

His clipboard is set to the side on top of a counter, various swirls of ink already lining the sheet. His white coat is folded and resting right beside it, the rough material tossed away instantly. The drapes are pushed back and a warm glow forecasts itself onto him when the small bundle is secured in his arms.

He smiles, fondly gazes when the child is awake and the mother is lying down, sharing the same smile he has.

It takes every single piece of strength in you not to melt into a complete puddle onto the floor from watching the entire scene. It’s incredibly heart-warming and you find yourself planted right at the door, a sweet smile tugging at your lips.

Carefully placing the child from his own arms into the mother’s, he turns towards the counter to grab his coat and the observations he had written down. It’s then that his gaze catches onto you and he blinks in surprise.

“Dr. L/N?” He walks towards you with his coat in hand.

“Are they doing alright?” You whisper in order to not bother them.

He hums, “Her injuries are healing and the child is in good shape.” You can see that he’s resisting the urge to smile at that and it makes you want to laugh at the notion.

Dr. Kim trying his hardest not to smile. Now that was truly a sight to witness.

“Did you need something?” He brings up, noticing how you were currently situated at the door. The reminder causes your words to distort and jumble with no sense of confidence leaking into them.

“U-Uh…I-I…” You mentally want to kick yourself when he keeps expectantly lowering his head at the words not coming out from your mouth.

“Oh you’re the second doctor!” The lady exclaims from across the room, now in a sitting position. Dr. Kim turns around so she can get a full view of you and you sheepishly smile. She gestures for you to come over and you slowly walk over.

“Do you want to hold her?” She looks towards her child and you widen your eyes, eagerly reaching out.

Being a medical professional for a large chuck of your life, you can hands-down always say that newborn babies were the cutest little things you will ever come across. Their skin is a light pink, softness adorning majority of their form and their eyes are always gently shut like they were within an eternal slumber. The small hands and feet curl around when she’s placed in your arms and you know this fond feeling is mixed in with a dear sense of relief on your part, eyes trained on how her chest slowly rises and fall.

You are so close to combusting – the sheer cuteness of the child is incredibly obvious but the great deal of pride emerging from you is immense being that this could only be seen thanks to the actions of you and Dr. Kim.

You raise your head and almost stagger when you see him leaning against the window on the other side of the room with his eyes only on you. However, this time you return the gesture with a smile instead of merely brushing it off.

You return her back to her mother after a couple of moments; the hazard of a morning you went through early on in the day makes every second worth it when you see your work paying off in the best way possible.

“You and Dr. Kim helped a woman through labour?”

You nod and Jimin’s mouth fall into agape, staring at you with wide eyes. “How did you guys even manage to do that?!”

“She was involved in a car accident and she couldn’t possibly go through labour at that stage, so the child was born prematurely.” After explaining, Jimin pauses to consider your words. He tosses it away however, more interested in another aspect of the surgery.

“So you and Dr. Kim were alone during the night?” You blink at his suggestive tone, fully aware that he was twisting the situation up.

“It was for a surgery, Dr. Park.” You grit out.

He’s about to retort, to which you eye roll at because Jimin never has limitations, but a quiet voice of an intern interjects.

“Congratulations on your surgery Dr. L/N.” A humongous smile graces on your lips when Chaeyoung walks closer to you.

“Thank you.” You take the opportunity to slip out of the situation so Jimin doesn’t do his own interrogation on you further but the act leaves the two individuals alone.

Jimin’s lips downturn when you quickly made an exit and as he’s about to leave with the assumption of questioning you later, a low sigh slips out beside him.

“Chaeyoung?” The girl perks up immediately at the sound of her name, realizing she had voiced some inner dislike by accident. “Are you okay?”

Her lips set into a firm line as her mind is causing to halt with the uncertainty of preaching any information to the specific man beside her. But her thoughts are plagued by something deeper and constantly roaming around to observe probably won’t help her in the long run. “Dr. L/N and Dr. Kim are excellent doctors.”

There’s no level of question in her voice, stating a mere fact. Jimin nods but is bewildered with the statement, “They are…” He trails off in hopes that she would continue.

“They handled the patient professionally even though the surgery was during the night. It probably takes a lot of resilience to do something like that.”

Jimin frowns, although he was usually considered to be the one that usually goes out of his way to do whatever he wanted, being a doctor always gave him a knack for understanding others well. “Are you jealous?”

The very notion of the question leaves the girl flustered, abruptly shaking her head back and forth. “N-No, o-of course not!”

“You know, Dr. L/N and Dr. Kim are pretty amazing, but don’t compare yourself to them.” Her eyes widen, uncertainty flooding into them at the belief that she was a lot more easier to understand than she had expected. She bits her lower lip, giving in when she knows it inevitable to hide.

“But can I do that? Can I throw away sleep for an emergency and still do something as complicated as a labour?” Insecurity is surrounding the girl, slowly consuming her because of her environment.

“Well…” He pauses for a moment. The feeling in itself is something he knows all too well, the feeling of being inadequate because everyone around you seems to always be better at the things that don’t come naturally to yourself. “Take me for example.”

“What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you see me?” He gestures to himself and Chaeyoung shuts her mouth, not wanting to vocalize anything wrong.

But Jimin continues, “I’m loud, I cause trouble, I don’t listen to anyone. Hearing this probably doesn’t make me the ideal candidate to be a doctor.” Chaeyoung tries to stifle back a chuckle, being aware herself that it makes her wonder at times why she was even hired to be an intern, “But I wanted to be a doctor so I could help people somehow and that’s why I was picked.”

She continues to stare at him,slowly grasping what he was trying to get across, “It doesn’t matter what type of traits you have, if you want to be a doctor then just go for it.”

It’s almost like a light flickers, some hope filling her, “If you look around closely,” He twirls around his finger through the hallway, “Everyone here have their own reasons.”

She hums, finally understanding, “Thank you Dr. Park...” If she was being truthful with herself, she would have never expected herself getting advice from Dr. Park, for the man always seemed too carefree and without a care in the world. But he has his own layers to him and it appears as if deep down, Dr. Park is considerate about what goes on around him.

“Dr. Park!” An annoyed voice speaks out, doe eyes searching around for the man and he smiles.

“Looks like I’ve been discovered for being gone too long.” His eyes crinkle at the edges, lids almost shut tight when he quickly rushes over and Chaeyoung laughs, feeling some of her own worries dissipate.

Evening is drawing close and you are getting more and more anxious as the hand on the clock drifts to the next minute. Understanding that sitting in your office and continuing to glare at the time will probably do you no good, the sudden scratching of your chair against the floor distorts the silence in the room.

Your intern was luckily occupied in assisting Dr. Park with some work, but that still leaves the goosebumps all over your skin when it means that they are close by. Poking your head outside, you see a clear hallway with no barriers, so you attempt to promptly get to your final destination.

The coast does remain clear for the majority of the part but your breath hitches when the familiar laughter of said doctor is mixed with your intern, volume increasing. You morph into a corner, hiding behind the shadows when your nerves are bouncing around at this point.

The door finally land in your field of vision and with a large rush of hesitance, you carefully knock against it.

“Dr. L/N?” The man situated at his desk looks up from his work, not quite expecting you to show up.

Ask him Y/N, now’s your chance!

You’re constantly having to reassure yourself, a grimace surfacing when you realize you’re still standing there without having spoken much.

“Dr. Kim…” You trail off, trying to sneak in a deep breath when the doctor stands up and is intrigued at you not mustering up any words.

Ask. Him. Y/N.

“Would you…like to go out for coffee sometime?”

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung doctor au #bts taehyung fanfic #taehyung e2l au #bts taehyung doctor au #bts taehyung e2l au #kim taehyung fanfic #bts v fanfic #bts v fluff #taehyung angst #bts taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts doctor au #bts e2l au

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tendertenebrosity · 5 years ago

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(I’m gonna make a masterpost of these because it’s probably getting confusing, but in the meantime: This is part seven. Parts one, two, three, four, five, six, and sad au). Thanks to @sweetwhumpandhellacomf for help with names!

For as long as Lian could remember, the temple in their city had been held as a peaceful, quiet and safe refuge. It wasn’t that any more; in the days after the city fell, the soldiers had emptied it of much of its sacred objects, its furnishings and decorations, and converted into an administrative building.

It was still the place best suited for a wedding, though.

Today the temple’s main hall was brightly lit and decorated. The empress’ people had rounded up every well-respected or important subject of Lian’s that they could, but the crowd that filled it were still mostly foreigners.

Lian smoothed their hands down the fabric of their wedding gown. Breathe. Shoulders straight and head high, under the weight of silk flowers and pinned hair. Breathe. Smile. Don’t look at her. Look straight ahead.

They tried to distract themselves with the thought of how their gown, repellent though it was, had been carefully and lovingly made by the seamstress who still thought that Lian was worthy of being her ruler. It helped, a little.

Most of the ceremony was unfamiliar to Lian, long and boring and dry. They got through it with their face smooth and blank, moving when and where they were told, standing beside the empress on the dais and signing their name into a huge ledger with an elegant hand. It didn’t matter. But the second part…

It probably wasn’t only spite that motivated the empress to include traditions from Lian’s culture. The paper-thin illusion that Lian was here by choice and the empress had a perfect right to claim dominion over their subjects had to be paid lip service. It almost undid Lian.

The high priest - young, for a high priest, and Lian didn’t recognise her; they were not sure what had become of her predecessors - brought out the long, thin blue strip of cloth, embroidered with wishes for good luck and happiness, and for a long moment Lian was completely unable to make themself move. They could more easily have plunged their right hand into an open fire or a vat of boiling water than they could have stretched it out towards the empress.

But they had lain awake and sleepless for weeks trying to think of any other alternative to this, and come up with nothing. The only path forward they could see that didn’t involve the Empress killing more and more of their people was for Lian to do this. They thought, fiercely, of the seamstress and their sibling, and their messenger boy, and all of the kitchen and laundry and secretarial staff back at their palace. Every soul in this city whose fates rested in the hands of the empress.

Lian held their hand out.

The empress’ hand was delicate, pale, fine-boned. She clasped Lian’s hand, her fingers cool and smooth and unhesitating. Lian forced their fingers to bend to clasp hers back.

The priest wound the strip of cloth around and around the two hands in front of her, tying it in a series of intricate, decorative knots. She was good at keeping her expression schooled, but Lian saw her lips thin as she spoke.

“What was two, is now one,” she announced. “Like fibres twisted together to make strong thread, your lives are joined. Your homes and hearths will be shared, your lives shared, your hopes and dreams shared. As the gods witness.”

There was a smattering of applause, and more than a little whispering and tittering behind them. Lian barely heard any of it over the sound of their heartbeat in their ears.

It doesn’t mean anything, they tried to tell themself. The gods won’t hold you to this. They know it isn’t real, they know you don’t want it. You know you don’t want it. It isn’t legal and it isn’t real. You have to pretend it is, for your people’s sake, but in your heart, where it matters, it isn’t.

The empress grasped Lian’s hand with hers, firmly, and they followed where she led, focusing all of their attention on maintaining their serene expression. They emerged out of the temple into natural light, a cool breeze and murmuring, chaotic noise that hushed as soon as they appeared.

Lian stood beside the empress, at the top of the steps that lead down into the biggest square in the city. The square was lined with soldiers and absolutely crammed full of people. They gazed up, a sea of faces all directed towards the brightly, richly dressed pair, and the noise died away.

The empress’ hand moved, taking Lian by surprise. She raised it, gracefully lifting their joined hands into the air for the crowd to see. Lean brown fingers and delicate pale ones, wound around and around with blue fabric in the bright sunlight.

Lian obediently held their hand up, straight and graceful, returning the pressure of the empress’ fingers despite the humiliation coursing through them. Lian knew that if anybody was here who didn’t realise how things were - and that was possible; the empress had invited a lot of dignitaries from neighbouring countries and even Lian’s people didn’t all understand - it would look like celebration to them. Joy, pride.

To Lian it felt like a different sort of pride - it felt like gloating. They were being held up in front of everyone like the severed head of an enemy. Like the bodies that adorned the walls of Lian’s city even now.

Lian gazed out at the crowd, this one mostly their people, and their heart seized. For a long, horrified, helpless moment they thought that the crowd wouldn’t cheer. That they would just stand there in hushed silence, refusing to play along with the charade of a joyful wedding.

Don’t do this, they thought frantically, as if they could compel their subjects with sheer terrified will alone. No, no, no, you have to do something! Please! Look at the soldiers everywhere, don’t you see…!

Then someone at the back raised a ragged cheer, and the crowd followed suit. It was hardly a roar of approval; it was slow to build, confused, half-hearted. Lian could see a lot of troubled or blank faces above applauding hands, and the occasional calls of ‘bless their majesties!’ or ‘congratulations!’ were easy to pick out over the general wordless noise.

But it was cheering, and Lian’s heart started beating again, and the soldiers stayed where they were on the edges of the square. People threw flower petals, and the musicians struck up a joyful melody.

Lian prayed this would be enough to satisfy the empress.

Once they had returned to the palace, Lian’s arm and shoulder began to ache fiercely. The actual feast was bad enough - their joined hands on the table between their plates, under the eyes of all the wedding guests. At real weddings they had been to, Lian had seen happy couples attempt to feed each other with their free hands at this point - they were pathetically glad that the Empress had not heard of that, or if she had she wasn’t inclined to do anything so undignified and frivolous in public. They picked at their food, with their left hand, until a cool raised eyebrow from the empress made them flinch and finish what was on their plate. They didn’t taste anything.

But afterward, the empress led Lian smoothly around the reception hall, greeting important foreign people and nobles from her homeland, and that was even worse. Lian had no choice but to follow meekly, enduring congratulations and introductions and the occasional suggestive remark with politeness and grace. They made a show of rueful smiles when they saw someone take note of how they were trailing after her, arm outstretched. They explained the meaning of the tradition to a few patronising foreigners, while the empress sipped wine with her right hand and signaled Lian with a subtle tap when she thought they had spoken long enough.

They loathed the intimacy of it, shoulders brushing, sweat-sticky palms, fingers pressed against hers and rendering every nervous twitch and shudder obvious. If she found it uncomfortable, she didn’t show it. She would grip Lian’s fingers firmly when she wanted to lead them somewhere new.

“Ah! Your majesty, your highness!”

Lian was surprised when the man in front of them, after bowing extravagantly to the empress, turned and did the same to Lian. They noted the pointed ears lying back against the tousled brown hair. This, then, had to be the elven ambassador whose visit had spurred all of this into motion.

“Of course, her imperial majesty and I have already met,” he said. His voice was accented, surprisingly deep, and very warm. “But I have not yet had the pleasure of introducing myself to you, esteemed Ruler. Rylior Silverquill, at your service. I have the great honour of representing the government of the combined Elven Nations of Greater Indregarda at your court.”

“I - oh,” Lian stammered. They were surprised to be granted their old title by a foreigner - was he supposed to do that? Nobody else today had. “Be welcome, Ambassador. I am most pleased to know you.”

The elven ambassador grinned, and it made him look young and roguish and not at all as formal and stuffy as Lian had imagined he would be from the letter and the way the empress spoke about elves. “As I am most pleased to know you.”

“Ambassador,” the empress said, her smile sparkling. Her fingers tightened on Lian’s, warningly. “I’m so touched you could make it here in time for today! I know we gave you precious little notice, you really didn’t have to change your travel arrangements.”

“Oh, the winds were kind to us! And I very much didn’t want to miss it,” Ambassador Silverquill said. His eyes flicked to Lian, thoughtfully. “Your ceremony was of surpassing beauty - well worth the trouble. It doesn’t do to miss an opportunity to celebrate the joy of your friends. And the elven nations are, as always, very… very good friends to all our peers here on this side of the Emerald Ocean.”

“We hold the friendship of the elves dear indeed,” the empress said.

“I look forward to getting to know you both better in the days to come,” Ambassador Silverquill said. “As well as familiarising myself with your beautiful city, and the unique challenges of this region. It always takes a while to settle into a new posting, but I expect it will feel like home in no time at all.”

“I hope you find your accommodations sufficient,” the empress said, her smile cold and bright. The light glittered off the jeweled pins holding her hair up. “For one used to the Elven Court, things must seem bare and crude to you out here. I have not had time to implement many of my planned improvements.”

Ambassador Silverquill’s expression sharpened. “As to that, if you require any help from our experts,”he said pleasantly, “I hope you will not hesitate to let me know. The food supply issues, for example…”

“Oh, honoured ambassador,” the empress said, giving one of her tinkling laughs. Her fingers shifted against Lian’s; they knew she wanted to tap her fingernails irritably. “I must insist we don’t discuss work! This is a night for celebration!”

“Of course! How rude of me! I shouldn’t intrude on this joyous occasion with such weighty matters,” the ambassador agreed. He shifted his body subtly so he was again addressing both Lian and the Empress equally. “I will speak of such things when we all have the time to grant them our full attention. Perhaps, the day after tomorrow?”

The empress’ grip tightened against Lian’s for an instant before relaxing. “We shall see,” she said, glacially.

“Then let me take my leave of you with one last congratulations,” Ambassador Silverquill said. He gave another extravagant bow, his hand moving in a graceful gesture. “Ruler, Empress - on behalf of my people, I hope you have many happy years together.”

Lian kept their smile fixed, showing no sign of how that last phrase had stabbed like a needle of ice. They knew they should be thinking harder, about what the ambassador’s manner suggested about the Elven Nations and their stance towards the empress. But just at that moment, they could not. Their heart hurt, like it was tearing itself apart, like they were dying, as they had fancifully thought they would on the day they had agreed to marry the empress.

“Thank you. I hope so too.”

#ruler and empress #Lian #forced marriage #whump drabble #angst #religion #whump #my stuff #fake wedding #Rylior #forced handholding #is that even a thing people tag for #new character huzzah!#there will be a part 8 coming very soon because I wrote them together

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riveir · 5 years ago

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info dump gossip girl verse.

UPBRINGING.

when roland barkley is transferred back to the states from shanghai ( again when river is ten years old ), the family settles in manhattan. roland begins working at goldman’s global headquarters in the financial district, commuting every morning from the family’s large upper east side apartment. river attends school in the neighborhood beginning in fifth grade, and attends private institutions through high school.

poppy barkley joins the ranks of socialites like lily van der woodsen, spending her time planning parties and dinners and fundraisers and charity galas and carting river out to them whenever she can; not only do his genuine charm and kindness ingratiate the family to more of manhattan’s elite, but both poppy and roland angle to show off his intelligence and manners to build connections for his future career. and of course, they’ve already decided that after finishing his ivy league education, he too will become a wall street executive. middle school river would be called down to make appearances at events hosted by the barkleys, asked to parrot back the aspirations he was told he had to those potential friends in high places, impress them with some mandarin ( or whatever other language was requested that he knew ) and then could be on his way. the upper east side was suffocating from a young age, and the performance and superficiality encouraged even in children of those entrenched in its social circle meant that the friendships he made were often permeated by such disingenuousness. still, through high school, river attempted to find authenticity with those in his life, though his numerous failures often ended in significant disappointment.

also in this verse, river’s dog, briggs, is a french bulldog rather than a golden retriever because the barkleys don’t have a huge backyard to let him hang out in and don’t have as much space in the apartment that could be delegated as ‘safe for shedding’ that a housekeeper could easily pickup and also a golden in an apartment would be miserable and while his parents miss that point because they’re oblivious river brings it up quite a few times and won’t allow an animal to be miserable in his household. roland and poppy still get him a dog in high school though because they think it will be “good for him” and that the companionship will be helpful.

HIGH SCHOOL.

river attends st. jude’s, and is co-captain of the lacrosse team by his sophomore year. he excels in his studies easily, and still tutors both in general education and subjects and whatever electives he takes that are offered, but also remains a language tutor, especially for mandarin.

river is involved with student government, serving as class president freshman, sophomore, and junior year. he does it because he thinks there’s value in efforts to make changes in the educational environment at the level of students who actually experience it. his parents approve because of how it would look on a college application to be a member of student government at an elite private institution.

during his first two years of high school, river doesn’t really pay much attention to gossip girl. he gets the blasts, as everyone does, but he’s hardly mentioned ( and when he is, it’s never as the main subject of the blast ) and he never sends in any tips. he thinks it’s a manifestation of the superficiality he so hates and hinders progress their generation could be making to be better than their parents, and only further encourages harmful inauthenticity in relationships. in short, he wants no part of it, and that’s the answer he gives whenever asked about it.

junior year. ( season one of gossip girl canon, tw: suicide / suicide attempt )

pressure from his parents about his future reaches a high point by the fall. when ivy league representatives visit, river gets the position of usher for columbia’s rep, where his parents are most heavily advocating for him to attend. river has secret interest in nyu, as well as in the peace corps and programs like teach for america.

he attends basically all the significant social events: the kiss on the lips party, the masked ball, blair’s seventeenth birthday, the cotillion ball, lily & bart’s wedding, etc.

river is not present at the secret party at the school swimming pool.

he learns about serena’s return to the upper east side through gossip girl like everyone else, though makes concerted effort to neither feed nor listen to the rumor mill as far as what the circumstances are. he also doesn’t bring it up to her directly, choosing to be welcoming without pressing for information. he encourages his parents to do the same.

river knows about eric’s stay at the ostroff center before anyone else because, after his own suicide attempt in the fall of his junior year, he also begins receiving treatment there. however, because of their habit of involving river in as many events as possible and their concern for his and their own reputations, his parents put him in outpatient treatment rather than inpatient, despite the center being known for its discretion. river meets weekly with a therapist there, occasionally accompanied by his parents for group sessions, though this is contingent more on their respective schedules than river’s needs. river’s comings and goings from the ostroff center are the first thing that start getting him actual direct attention in gossip girl tips.

the second thing that provides constant threat of exposure by gossip girl is river’s sexuality. as in the politician canon, river has not defined his sexuality, and is never actually sure of what it is / never labels it himself before his death. any relationships with boys are ones he keeps secret, as with his relationship with payton in canon ( which is only revealed to his girlfriend astrid because he feels guilty and hypocritical keeping it from her ). this is not necessarily because he is ashamed, because river doesn’t see shame in anything that is genuine and that is an authentic representation of his feelings. it is more because of the pressure put on him by his family in regards to reputation, and also because of that uncertainty he has about his sexuality and his desire to figure it out on his own terms. he doesn’t want exposure by gossip girl to force him into anything. however, the secrecy of his canonical relationship with payton was ( or was at least implied to be ) mutual, so this could change depending on the nature of the specific relationship. either way, the threat from gossip girl remains, and even though river continues attending social events, he does so mostly to avoid raising suspicion ( knowing he’s becoming increasingly withdrawn as it is aside from fearing what could be set about him ), he tends to try and lay low.

senior year. ( season two of gossip girl canon, tw: suicidie / suicide attempt )

the barkleys have spent their summer in the hamptons, with roland staying in the city during the week for work. all three attend the white party.

river begins running for student body president at the beginning of the year, at the push of his parents who think it could be a major key to getting into columbia.

river finally divulges the details of his mental health struggles and his suicide attempt at the first election debate, just as in his own canon. this is in part due to wanting to beat gossip girl to the punch, but also, and more importantly, because of the reason he gives at the debate, which is completely and wholeheartedly sincere: he doesn’t want any of his other classmates to ever feel the way he did that day, though he doesn’t indicate that he is still struggling as much now as he was then.

river’s death still occurs in september, in the very beginning of senior year. in the timeline of season two episodes, it would be around the events of ‘the serena also rises.

BEYOND HIGH SCHOOL.

this information only applies for plotted threads in which river lives beyond high school ( similar to the canon au verse ). in this scenario, river finishes his senior year at st. jude as student body president, a lacrosse captain, and a member of the drama club. he commits to columbia university shortly before thanksgiving. once there, river majors in english & comparative literature paired with columbia’s education minor program, and selects the track for certification to teach grades 7 - 12. he dorms at columbia and returns home for holidays and school breaks, though he does always feel more inclined to stay in new york city. he would be attending columbia at the same time as nate and, later, blair and serena.

#。 ·ﾟ ⎛ 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘺 ⎠ study.#。 ·ﾟ ⎛ 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ⎠ arc v‚ gossip girl.#another one linked in the verses page woo #suicide tw #suicide attempt tw

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komahinasecretexchange · 6 years ago

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Title: Game of Hearts

Author: @mxshimxchi (moshimochi on ao3)

For: @brooding-basket-case

Rating/Warnings: T, no warnings

Prompt: “High School AU"

Author’s notes: This is an exploration of Hinata and Komaeda’s relationship while they’re students at Hope’s Peak Academy. It’s also a non-despair AU, and I took some inspiration from NDRV3’s Talent Development Plan! I hope you enjoy c:

He wasn’t sure what led him to be sitting on an uncomfortable bleacher watching the school’s sports festival basketball game. He’s never cared much for sports, but maybe he couldn’t deny an opportunity to see members of Hope’s Peak Academy shine on the court. Or maybe he couldn’t resist seeing how a meritless reserve course student would fare as a replacement team member, pitted against a crew of athletes brimming with hope. Regardless, here he was, slightly uncomfortable and trying not to flinch from the overpowering sounds of a rowdy crowd, blaring horns, and his boisterous classmates he sat next to.

While he tried to follow the bouncing of the orange ball, his eyes kept leading astray towards the reserve course student yet again. Hinata, after all, was the one who directly invited him to watch the game. Perhaps he was trying to prove himself, Komaeda mused, and show that he could keep up with the more talented players. It was a futile effort, but like a trainwreck Komaeda couldn’t peel his eyes away from. Especially how Hinata’s shirt would flare up, exposing his midriff. Or how he would miss a free throw, with his strong, untalented, tanned arms. Or how his basketball shorts clung tightly to his sweaty thighs. It was hot in here, right? His relationship with Hinata was nothing but complicated. They ate lunch together on a number of occasions, and while Hinata primarily spoke to his other classmates, like Souda and Nanami, sometimes just the two of them would eat their bentos in front of the fountain dividing the main and reserve course campuses. While they bickered constantly, it never stopped them from planning to meet again for lunch later in the week. Sometimes, even, after a particularly nasty brawl, Hinata would creep his hand towards Komaeda’s, and interlace them. On a handful of occasions, one of them has been reckless enough to pull the other in a brief kiss, breaking apart so fast one would miss it if they blinked, and leaving no gap of time for either of them to ruminate on the dangerous boundaries of intimacy they tiptoed. It was easier that way, to avoid thinking about it. But Hinata, despite being a good-for-nothing reserve course student, was an enigma who incessantly occupied Komaeda’s brain, and made his chest burn warm with relentless embers.

He gets lost in daydreams of feeling Hinata’s strong arms wrapped around him when the final buzzer sounds off, signifying the end of the game. Hinata’s team won, and with the rest of the group they cheer and share a bout of high-fives, Hinata himself earning a few gleeful slaps on the back. Hinata grins in a way that makes his entire face shine with glimmering hope. Komaeda isn’t entirely sure of his own motives when he waits for Hinata outside of the locker room. He faded easily into the backdrop of the scene, other students paying him no mind as they chatted, laughed together, exiting the gym. He mused that sometimes, being an unremarkable nobody could be used in his favor. When it seems like most of the students have trailed their way out of the gym, he slips into the locker room, where he finds Hinata and a few other students still cooling off. “I’m sure my lost gym shorts are somewhere in here!” He announces, very inconspicuously. Hinata gawks at him but quickly turns away, pretending not to notice Komaeda flitting around the lockers. Despite his occasional dense and stubborn nature, it appears Hinata picked up the hint, taking his time and waiting out for the other team members to finally exit the room. He moved on instinct, drawing closer to Hinata, until the other had his back pressed against the cool steel of his locker. “Good job, reserve student! I’m surprised at how well you kept up with the team.” He presses his lips into Hinata’s, fleetingly, because Komaeda rations that Hinata might deserve a reward for performing so well despite the odds.

“Hey..” Hinata says, blushing with embarrassed heat. His eyes twitch nervously to the locker room entrance, and Komaeda can feel his body tense against him. “Aren’t you worried if someone sees us?” “Why,” He lilts with a coy smile, “Are you ashamed of dirtying your hands with someone like me?” “D-dirtying- No! Geez, what are you even saying…” Hinata grumbles, raking a disgruntled hand through his sweaty bangs. “Besides, I thought you would be embarrassed to be seen with me… Since I’m a reserve student…” He notices Hinata’s olive green eyes flicker away from his for second, casting a downwards glance towards the floor. Normally he’d jump upon this moment, elate in the fact that Hinata is finally showing a bit humility in the face of an Ultimate, even a pathetic one like himself - but something doesn’t feel quite right about pouncing upon this opportunity. The thought of it turns a sharp feeling in his stomach, butterflies morphing into painful strings, and he doesn’t really understand why. Komaeda licks his lips, notices how Hinata’s eyes flick up and stares at his mouth. “Why don’t we go back to my dorm then?” He laughs nervously. “The Ultimate dorms?” Hinata balks, “You know I can’t go there.”

“With my luck, I doubt we’d get caught.” Komaeda muses, and he knows his luck isn’t as simple as that, but his Dr. Hopper exploded in his face during lunch today, so it might even out.

Hinata blinks at him once, twice, and then rubs the back of his neck. “I should probably get showered first.”

“Yes.” He concedes, because while watching Hinata get sweaty and exert himself during the game was undeniably alluring from a distance, he did just wash his bedsheets yesterday.

Hinata has a strange look on his face. Komaeda isn’t really sure how to process the beat of silence that’s overcome them, so he winds a strand of hair around his finger, tries to muffle another anxious laugh and bites his lip. Tries not to yank his hair out. “Okay.” Hinata finally concedes, grabbing a towel, and leaving Komaeda alone in the locker room. It feels unreal to Komaeda that this is happening, that he’s really bringing Hinata Hajime back to his dorm, to be together in private. —-

Just as planned, there are no security guards in sight, or other Hope’s Peak students lingering around outside of the dorm building to spot Komaeda smuggle Hinata inside. Komaeda practically jams the key trying to open the door to his room with eager energy. Entering into the wide space, Hinata’s jaw drops with awe. “This is huge!” “Your room isn’t this size?” He shuts the door behind them, trying to feign a cool and disinterested energy. Hinata snorts. “Maybe, like, half.” He flops onto Komaeda’s bed, arms sprawled above his head. “Wow, this is really comfy, too. My mattress is like a brick compared to this.” “You think so? Compared to my bed at home, I always thought this was rather uncomfortable.” “Must be nice to live in the lap of luxury.” Komaeda wants to tell him that there’s nothing nice about his existence, but has a rare moment of restraint to press his lips together. He would hate to break the mood gradually building between them.

Instead, he offers a lighthearted laugh. “Your sheets don’t have a thread count over 1,000?”

“Shut up,” Hinata grumbles at him, but underneath the snark Komaeda can see the slightest hint of a crooked smile. There’s something about it that’s insufferably endearing. Komaeda feels himself moving closer to the bed and climbing next to Hinata, rather than consciously deciding to do so, and suddenly they’re face to face. Wide olive green eyes meet his, and Komaeda is conflicted from trying to decipher if the color is bland or the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the color of earth and life. When they kiss, it feels like a greater victory than his team’s success at the basketball game.

He desperately just wants to keep indulging in the feeling, falling back into the feeling of letting his body move with the motions of this love without thinking, but Hinata breaks them apart. The distress playing across his face sends a different kind of nervous energy through Komaeda’s spine.

“What are we?” Hinata asks quietly. “I mean… What does this mean. For us, I guess.”

It feels like time slows, sluggish and nauseating. “Do you-” Stop it. “Do you really think-” Please, stop it. “That someone from the worthless reserve course-” Fucking stop it. “Could date someone from the actual academy? I may be the lowest of the Ultimates, but you’re still barely worth my time.” Disbelief, sadness, and rage swirl within Hinata’s eyes. “So was this all just… Messing around to you? Fucking nothing then?” “What led you to believe that it was something? What kind of deduction process brought you to that brilliant conclusion?” “You were the one who invited me here!” Hinata sputtered. “I thought…”

“What?” Don’t. “That I… Cared for you?” It scares him how Hinata’s face drops in blank resignation. How easily these terrible words spill out of his mouth. “Fuck you. Whatever.” Hinata rips himself out of the bed, exiting the room and slamming the door, leaving a trail of festering rejection in his wake. The bed feels empty and cold, suffocating any of the remaining warmth left in the room. Komaeda doesn’t know what else he expected.

A week later, Hinata has been notably absent from lunchtime breaks, leaving no word to any of his main course friends. On the tenth lunchtime without Hinata-kun’s presence, he eats his bento in silence next to Nanami, who’s deeply engrossed in a game on a handheld console.

Right when he thinks she might not notice if he were to slip away and sulk by himself, she starts to speak. “Hey, Komaeda-kun…” Nanami doesn’t pause playing her game, just continues to press buttons at a dizzying speed while speaking to him, pink nail polish against dark chrome. “Where’s Hinata-kun?” The question stings, and he’s thankful she isn’t making eye contact with him. “How should I know?” She frowns at his retort, but doesn’t break her rhythm of attacks against a virtual foe. Komaeda tries to distract himself by watching her avatar swing menacing dual swords at a boss monster. “Hinata-kun hasn’t been coming to lunch recently… Did you two get into a fight?” “I only said what he needed to hear.” He says, trying to convince both her and himself. “He should know his place.” “You should be nicer to him… I think.” Her drowsy voice mumbles, trailing off until Komaeda notices a bright K.O. flashing on her screen. Having vanquished the monster, she finally looks at Komaeda directly, dusty pink irises shaded by her pale fringe. “Hinata-kun is a good person. He’s been a good friend to all of us. You, too. When you used to eat lunch alone, he would usually try to talk to you, right? So that’s why…. You should probably make-up with him.”

“What am I supposed to say to him?” Social interactions have never been his strong suit, let alone conflict resolution. In fact, he seemed to have a perchance for making literally any conversation he injected himself into worse, like a corrupting poison, corroding all of the relationships around him. It reminded Komaeda why he wanted to keep his distance from Hinata in the first place. “I meant what I said.” I hate myself for it. Nanami’s pondering expression dissolves into defeat. “I don’t really know what you should say…” She pouts, crossing her arms. “I always choose the wrong dialogue options in dating sims.”

He leaves lunch feeling even more conflicted than before. —- When he takes a walk later that evening, he tells himself it’s just by coincidence that he lands in front of the reserve course dorms. Of course, it’s a bit less coincidental that he has Hinata’s room number written on a piece of paper crunched in his hand. Finding a dropped file by a school residence administrator was nothing short of extremely lucky.

The building itself is a stark grey, contrasting with the welcoming brickwork of the Hope’s Peak main campus. The windows are small, almost like slits, restrictive of any natural light. Like the main campus, the front door requires and ID swipe for access, but it doesn’t take Komaeda long to push open a back door left unlocked. Despite the money the reserve course costs in tuition, Komaeda figures most of it must not go towards facilities or security. He checks the number on the note with the number on the door once, twice, a third time, until he finally dredges up the confidence to land a knocking fist against the door. He can hear a chair scrape against the floor from inside, casually noting the thinness of the walls, and shuffling towards the door. Then, he’s greeted with a bleary-eyed Hinata, piles of textbooks and papers lining the desk behind him. “Good evening, Hinata-kun.” He smiles, trying to swallow the shame in his throat. Hinata radiates a blend of impatience and distrust. “Why are you here?” “I wanted to talk.”

“Not interested.” Hinata moves to shut the door, but is blocked with the side of Komaeda’s designer shoes. Komaeda tries not to flinch thinking about the scratches that might be left on the leather after this, but it would be a casualty taken in stride if he could make this right. “And I also wanted to offer my apologies.” Hinata’s eyes narrow, and rakes his fingers through his spiked hair again. It’s a nervous tic that Komaeda has familiarized himself with, and realizing that makes his head spin “… Whatever,” Hinata finally amends, moving away from the door. Komaeda rocks anxiously on his feet, looming in the threshold of the cramped room. “You don’t have to just stand there. You can sit.” Stepping inside, Hinata’s dorm feels claustrophobic, like the walls are slowly compressing him with building pressure. It does nothing to help the situation. “I offended you,” Komaeda starts, sitting on the bed. “And I wanted to extend my apologies.” Hinata sits back in his desk chair, and his wider frame looks disproportionate in the small room. Almost as if the walls are restraining his form, his light. “I’m surprised you thought a worthless reserve course student was worth apologizing to. I thought I was barely worth your time.” Komaeda bites his lip. “I was unnecessarily cruel to you. I’m sorry.” “I really don’t get you sometimes,” Hinata sighs. He knows what he wants to say, but he doesn’t know if it’s okay to say it. One wrong step and they’ll plummet over the edge of acceptable contact and into a range of where his capricious luck might designate Hinata as a target. But by stepping away from the ledge… Isn’t it hurting Hinata just the same? The dilemma squeezes the air from his chest. He knows, deep down, what he needs to do to make things right. Seeing Hinata in a state of distress is haunting him in a way he doesn’t think he can live comfortably with. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He adds quietly. “But if I’m not mindful of my luck, it will wound you even worse. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to you because of me.” Hinata sharply inhales, and looks at him with a gaze that makes him feel vivisected and vulnerable. “I understand if you don’t forgive me,” Komaeda continues, “I would understand if you hated me, too. There are lots of reasons to hate me-” but he’s cut off when Hinata’s lips come crashing into his, a palm roughly entangling into his hair, holding him still. “Oh,” he breathes. “I don’t hate you,” Hinata murmurs to him, lips catching against Komaeda’s. “Oh,” he sighs again, feeling himself wind up against Hinata’s steady touch, wanting to spring into his embrace, and collides against his lips again with equal force.

When they finally part, Komaeda again face to face with Hinata, draped next to each other. The proximity, filling each other’s space, contained by the too hard bed and too small walls starts to feel almost comforting. “Can we stay like this? Just for a little while.”

Maybe they don’t need to use words. Maybe they can express themselves without crossing any lines or falling over the edge, but just appreciate the comfortable and still moments between one another. For now, this could be enough. Hinata finally smiles, intertwining their hands. “For as long as you’d like.”

#fanfiction #komahina #komahina secret exchange

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khruseosold · 5 years ago

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IN — CHARACTER : QUESTIONNAIRE.

Muse: Jace Herondale

1. What does your muse smell like?

Dust, ash, sweat, ichor and/or blood— think I’m exaggerating? Part of me wishes that I was. There’s a certain smell to Jace that encapsulates the aftermath of what he, as a Nephilim, was trained his entire life to do and excel at: demon-hunting. The remnants of all of the aforementioned taint his clothing, skin and hair alike, and they often linger easily for quite some time as a whole, as he’s never exactly in a rush to rid himself of it (taking two showers a day is not exactly a thing he’s drawn to). And as one of his habits definitely include invading personal space (especially when he becomes perfectly aware that it’s much to a person’s dismay) just enough for the act to not be of mutual annoyance, there are plenty of people who’ve likely become far more than well-acquainted with it. Sorry, Alec (even if Jace disagrees with said apology).

2. How often does your muse bathe / shower? Any habits?

Daily if it’s within his capabilities, with a very definite and strong preference to taking one towards the end of the day once he’s returned to the institute. But it’s one, and generally one alone— he’s not exempt to excessive groans if he somehow needs a second one. He is, however, not in much of a rush to take one and is perfectly capable of delaying it until much later on in the evening. On that note, his reasoning to ultimately get up and take one often isn’t even linked to the fact that he’s rather, well, let’s face it, dirty by the end of his ‘escapades’, it’s the fact that it’s a place of peace and quiet, of serenity which is something he’s very adamant about once he retreats to his room at the institute. It’s almost a ritual of cleansing, even if he, himself, wouldn’t personally reference it by any such terminology. But it is, quite literally, the act of water rinsing the weight off his shoulders, even if it never quite manages to do so. But that’s a topic for another day.

3. Does your muse have any tattoos or piercings?

Jace bears numerous runes inked across different parts of his body, these are, in essence, marks that the Nephilim are able to draw upon themselves with aid of their own stele, and these runes work as empowerment and protection of the wearer in question, or various other uses (as there are thousands). When freshly drawn, these runes will appear black, similarly to tattoos, but most fade over-time until they appear as nothing more but silvery-white scars. Jace (if unglamoured) wears two permanent runes in plain sight that retain their dark appearance on one hand and the forearm on the other, and is, at any given time, covered in scars of old-worn runes. Beyond those, there are no proper tattoos nor piercings on him. As he likes to point out, his good looks are all ‘au naturel’.

4. Any body movement quirks (ex: leg shaking)?

Funny one would ask— yes to the question, a lesser yes to the example given and yes to likely numerous other examples you could name. Jace, while not seemingly one of visible nervousness of any kind (nor is he consciously one who’s is agitated) does live up to quirks that stem from both. Though I wouldn’t exactly account either of the terms to him and his mindset, and I’d much rather opt for the terminology of being ‘restless’. He’s rather of a soul who requires physical exertion as to be most comfortable— and this comes out through numerous smaller ticks that many wouldn’t even quite notice unless they surveyed him with scrutiny (as Clary has done to some level). The primary one (and I see this as a bit of a rule of thumb) is that very often, a part of Jace is always active. If it isn’t him physically in one way or another, it’ll be his mind (which is why he’s always so incredibly quick-witted and sarcastic, he’s very quick mentally); but you’ll also find that he’s prone to keeping an object in motion, especially during moments when he’s just standing around and waiting. This can be him pulling at a loose thread in the pockets of his jeans, rotating his stele when he’s holding but not using it, the occasional shake of his leg when he’s sitting somewhere and he has his legs crossed (the foot on knee variant), running his fingers through his hair as to push it back, etc. These decrease substantially however once he meets Clary and especially, as they progress in their relationship and he’s physically around her.

5. What do they sleep in?

Especially before the timeline and the beginning of the Mortal Instruments, he sleeps in his full jammies, as he likes to refer to them as. But it seems it’s not a strict habit by any means, and especially as time progresses, he definitely strays from the custom. It becomes more common for him to sleep, for example, shirtless with long pyjama bottoms.

6. What’s their favourite piece of clothing?

Jace was/is immense about his leather jackets, and he did lose a heavy favourite among favourites during the timeline of City of Ashes, which he was decently/relatively dramatic about no longer having. Beyond that, the guy occasionally has a favourite shirt, but they come and go— usually ones that’re somewhat loose-fitting but not overly so at all. In truth, many of Jace’s ‘favourites’ among his attire often tend to become favourites when they’ve fallen victim to ichor (or similar) or he’s lost them in one way or another.

7. What do they do when they wake up ?

Cassandra Clare likes to point out how Jace is barefoot way more often than he’s not— so I’m going to make this an issue of equal significance. He lazes through the hallways of the Institute, all the way to the kitchen— wholly ignoring Isabelle if she’s in there already with yet another attempt at the furnace; and peeks if the refrigerator if there’s any left-overs from the previous evening/night. If not, then he resorts to candy bars he can find left and right and if one raven-haired Lightwood is, in fact, not in said kitchen, he’ll prepare himself some eggs for the protein and immense nutrients in them; his go-to. Then he’s far from exempt of lazing around some more, primarily in the library before he heads to the training room for numerous hours, if patrols aren’t yet called for. And by then, it’s usually Taki’s. Have I mentioned that despite being in tip-top shape physically, he actually has immensely horrible eating (and such) habits and I wonder how he accomplishes everything he does, with them?

8. How do they sleep? Position?

Pre-Clary or? Prior to her in his life, there is no set way or position to how he sleeps. In the midst of a room that is way too organised and clean to a point where it seems no one actually inhabits it— when he sleeps, he’s not the most orderly. He sleeps in a variety of positions, depending on his state of mind at the time, though the periods of lighter sleep are definitely spent on his back. When Clary comes into his life and they form a proper couple in the later half of the series, he tends to default to his side as to be able to wrap his arms around her waist, regardless of whether she’s facing him or not; though they commonly fall asleep facing one another.

9. What do their hands feel like?

While a warrior through and through bone and blood alike, it’s only the texture of them which live up to it. His fingertips are calloused, though not by any means severely, there are some scars on the very top of one in particular, remnants and scarring of the occasional temporary rune. Beyond that, one would not truly be able to tell; he has an artist’s hands; very slender with fingers relatively long and he’s very fluid in the movements of them— they’re described as being much more fitting as the hands of a pianist, rather than of a warrior, which tends to come as a continuous surprise to Clary.

10. If you kissed them, what would they usually taste like?

I don’t know, what does he taste like when you kiss him, Clary? (cough, cough, @freckledsnack)

Tagged by: Good question, believe both @loialte and @murroyilodel tagged me. Ily both. <3 Tagging: @loialte (listen, you can do it for Jace’s parabatai; your turn). @freckledsnack again because well, Jace’s other half, @logiclaire, @marblecarved (Obara), @diguerra (Nym), @tocxmply (come on Fil, give me a novel on Bucky), @hakune (Simon; though if you want, you can also do Steve), @lcdgerbled / @snakedhand, @trickstercaptain /��@immobiliter (Pep), @empireburned (Peggy).

#[ tagged in. ] this is probably a bad idea. like a record breakingly bad idea. like a go down in history bad idea.#[ meta. ] artists use lies to tell the truth. yes i created a lie. but because you believed it. you found something true about yourself.#[ jace herondale / meta. ] not everything is about you. / possibly. but you do have to admit that the majority of things are.#[ me: gdi-- emma also tagged me to do this for ezio in the future. hey-o. ]#[ also as always-- can always retag me if you feel curious about any other of my muses! [#[ jace herondale. ] it's me. watching me play scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. imagine if i actually put in some effort.

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