#just a sea of people they/theming this random woman because she had short hair i wanted to nuke the earth
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femmesandhoney · 6 months ago
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hate the word queer so much. people see any gnc woman and go "she must be okay with being called queer and we will call her a they/them without any indication from the woman that that's even what she wants". being in that community literally gives you brainrot. no respect for other people its "i think you must be this for *dumb reason* so it must be true" and none of them can pull their heads out of their asses to realize how weird they are about gnc women.
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cherrysung · 5 years ago
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pairing: soulmate!jaemin x reader
genre: guardian angel au / fluff / slight angst
warnings: language, sad themes, character death (car crash), suggestive (not explicit, I suck at smut), my shitty writing (I’m so sorry)
summary: the glimmering boy from the accident would often visit you in the depths of your dreams with eager eyes, your imagination the only place where he could allow you to see him. that is, until you finally became an adult.
word count: 10.2k
note: this is my first time writing a long fic, it might seem rushed or confusing but I’m sure I’ll improve with time, so feedback will be greatly appreciated. anyways, I truly hope you enjoy the story from the bottom of my heart! also, thank you @glossyjaems for hyping me up on this!
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The rain poured violently, hitting the car windows in near agression as you mindlessly watched the drops race down, ‘till they eventually disappeared from your view. The roads were hugely engulfed in a sea of haze, and it was complicated to decipher the direction in which the car was heading towards, amidst all the fog surrounding. You remember a gentle song playing quietly from the radio, and if it weren’t for the furious banging of the weather, you’d be fast asleep. Asleep, in the warm arms of your mother, who held you so dearly. No one expected what was to come. The anxious stirring from your father, the deafening crash, the cries of the woman who now held you tightly with fear, or the pitch black darkness that consumed everybody in an instant.
Four years, you were only four years when you lost your entire family; and you were supposed to leave with them. Softly, the song kept playing, when you caught a gleaming silhouette in the distance. Just like that, consciousness slipped away from you.
Years went by quickly, time left but memories stayed. The helpless screams of your father and your mother’s tears that fell onto your chubby cheeks; you remember them vividly. You thought memories were supposed to be cherished, but yours only managed to haunt you every progressing day of your life. A life that was meant to be taken away from you, a life that was meant to be spent with your loved ones. You lost one option for the price of the other and you weren’t sure what was worse, there was no way an answer from something as intricate as existence could be obtained. All you knew was the shimmering light before blackness tugged at your vision. Tall, lean and majestic; you wished it would’ve been one of the few memories that did stay, but it seemed like it was fading away more and more as the clock ticked by.
Attached to several tubes and beeping machines, you had woken up disoriented that day, completely unaware of your surroundings. So confused, you couldn’t even process or fathom what just had happened; the death of your parents, or the cuts and bruises that stung your delicate, baby skin. A nurse was walking by the room you were in when she noticed the small of your figure sitting up on the hard hospital bed, immediately bursting through the door with shock plastered on her young face.
You were not expected to survive a coma. You were not even meant to survive a deadly car crash. No one was really expecting you to wake up. In the midst of all the chaos that had eventually formed by the surprised nurses and hospital staff, you could only stare through the small-framed window, at the bright spark that shined outside in the empty streets. Only for your eyes to see.
Growing up with your grandparents had its perks. They were very pure beings; always trying the best they could to keep a content smile on your bruised face, always trying to show you the love their own children couldn’t. Their mythical, fantasy tales were your favorite; the ones where everything and everyone was magical, where anything could happen because suddenly animals and plants could talk, and the Earth wasn’t as soulless. Your lovely storytellers successfully distracted you from the harsh truth, that an innocent child like you had to learn at a very young age their family; the woman who birthed you and the man who held you in his arms for the first time, were gone. Just like they had left, the time came where their own parents had to step off the journey of life, too. This time, you were fully alone to face the frightening reality and malicious threats of those who weren’t happy. Fifthteen years old, you were now totally by yourself.
Or so, you thought.
Forming part of your grandparents’ usual anecdotes and short stories, was the tale consisting of soulmates. Soulmate, someone destined to be by your side forever. You knew they loved talking about myths and legends, so believing that something as harsh as life already had prepared an individual to cherish you, seemed impossible. More so, when it took your parents from you in the worst way possible. Naturally, you brushed the thought aside despite your grandmother’s last words, asking you to wait for the letter, one that was soon to come. You didn’t know what she was talking about, and quite frankly, you were too distressed to care; helplessly watching the world take yet again, someone from you.
Every night after the accident that almost took your life, images began forming in your head. What were images turned into short dreams, and soon, they were a common occasion every time you slipped off into slumber. After giving a final goodbye to your grandparents, those visions only seemed to increase. There, you would always meet him. The boy with excited eyes, somehow he always appeared remarkably delighted to see you, although you couldn’t understand why. Who was he? Why was he in your nightly thoughts all the time? You didn’t know, but you didn’t mind either. He was divine, always formally dressed in a white suit; black, lustrous shoes and hair combed back so carefully accompanied by a slight part enough to show some of his forehead. A person so tremendously handsome, you usually wondered how your young mind was even able to create such a heavenly man.
You never failed to meet him in your dreams. Enveloped by all the loneliness you had been left with, you looked forward to see him until the sun decided to rise from within the towering mountains and over the vast horizon; the sultry warmth of a new day bringing you out of the place where only the two of you knew. Life was mostly dull unless you were having your fair share of time with the celestial boy in the depths of your imagination.
Age seventeen came through, gifting you with the fading of majority of the scars that had been left on your skin as a daily reminder of what happened years ago. One of them, though, chose to accompany you forever. It was fine, you assured yourself, no matter how dark it sounded, it was the closest thing to your parents that you had. Rather than despising it, you’d enjoy it.
The town you lived in wasn’t all that special. It was small and far from the bigger cities, home to a low population of friendly people. Everyone knew each other; and everybody knew what happened the winter of 2006, when your parents died. The year your whole world came crashing down; like the angry ocean waves would hit at the random, jagged rocks that stuck from beneath the water. In spite of the tragedy you had to endure, nobody treated you with shameless pity, and instead taught you that yes; life can be threatening, but it can also be marvellous. You realized that living is unexpected; one day you’re breathing, the next one you could be gone. It’s difficult to accept the fact that everybody’s fate is exceptionally different. Sometimes they might leave with pride, sometimes they might leave with fear. Of course you didn’t know what the world had in store for your future, but you certainly didn’t want to keep drowning in your sea of miserable grief.
Sighing, you put an end to your train of thoughts as you plopped down on your bed’s soft mattress. Your grandparents’ wooden house was the same as it was the day they left; cosy, warm and vintage. You would often dream here about what the actual cities looked like, your last time catching the bright, colorful lights being the same day of the accident. Grandma didn’t want to tell you much as she usually avoided describing the occurence in detail, but she did admit you were on your way to visit her and the rest when the early winter storm caught up with the unplanned trip. Maybe, if your father would’ve chosen to spend one last day at your old house, they would be here today.
The endless questions and memories that consumed you everyday were enough to lull you off into a deep sleep.
Suddenly, everything around you looked magical and extraordinary in the sea of green, healthy grass that kissed at your bare feet oh so tenderly. Several flowers that accompanied the slightly flowing ocean of emerald were colorful; blues, pinks, yellows, purples. Every single shade thinkable was present. A sky so heavenly azure, and a small amount of white, fluffy cotton clouds decorating it beautifully. You discovered, you were no longer in reality. You were in your dreams. Far off in the distance, your eyes spotted the same white suit you had grown accustomed to seeing, and your feet immediately headed in the direction of the clean attire. There he was, the same boy who was nothing but absolutely ethereal, sitting on the soft field of tulips and roses under a large oak tree. He didn’t have to search to know you were there; he felt your presence from miles away, even when you were not meeting him in your lovely thoughts. After all, he had always been there with you. You just weren’t aware of it.
Despite the tall grass that occasionally tangled with your feet, you reached him easily, quietly taking a seat next to him on the velvety ground. “Hello.” He simply greeted, still looking off into the horizon as he slowly grazed his hands through the flowers surrounding him. Features so enchanting, his face looked like it had been sculpted and carved by the gods themselves. A defined nose and jawline, narrow eyes that only conveyed pure compassion, with a final touch of the smoothest skin you had ever seen before. He was literally glowing with beauty.
“Hi,” you replied shortly with a small smile, “we meet again.” He turned to glance at you, his eyes surveying lightly over your own features. He thought you were breathtaking.
He slightly nodded his head, the setting sun offering a nice dew to his warm skin. “We do.” A pause took over, and you wondered why he was so quiet today; usually, you were used to him being more talkative, even flirty. Before you could say anything else, he spoke up with a graceful smile. “You’re turning eighteen soon, right?” You could only nod, a huge knot forming in your chest at the thought of spending yet another birthday without the company of your family, you wished they would’ve been able to watch you turn into an adult. “Don’t be sad, just because they’re not with you physically, doesn’t mean they’re also not with you emotionally. If you think about it, they have never left.”
It had become a common feeling to be taken aback by his sudden rightful guessings of your thoughts. You never understood how he was able to tell what you were currently thinking, and honestly, it didn’t seem like you’d ever know, for his answers had always been along the lines of having a strong intuition.
By now, the bright sun had almost completely set behind the horizon, engulfing the vast grasslands with warm hues of oranges, yellows and reds; while the quick approaching night brought with itself a sea of blues, purples and pinks. The colors mixing together created a stunning evening sky, a view so captivating you could misinterpret it for a famous Italian painting. “I guess you’re right,” you agreed with his previous statement, “but I just wish I was able to spend a day meant to be so special with my family. In the flesh, I mean. I’m tired of spending my birthday by myself. Turning eighteen was supposed to feel exciting, but I can’t seem to find eagerness anywhere within my emotions when I know I’ll be on my own again.” Exhaling with slight disappointment, you softly pulled at a honeysuckle beside you and allowed yourself to savor the sweet taste of the nectar that it gingerly left on your tongue. You wondered if there was anything else more sugary than the tasty honey of the tiny flower.
“I understand.” He replied with a slight nod as he watched you grab another honeysuckle. Then, he did something he had never done before, and his hand grasped yours delicately. You were certain this was only a dream, still, you could feel him. You could feel his skin and the warmth that radiated from his hand, along with the creases on his much bigger palm. Somehow, the skin there wasn’t soft like you imagined, in fact, it was sort of rough; either way, they still managed to feel silky as they held your own. “But hey,” his eyes twinkled with happiness as he beamed, “I promise you, you won’t be spending your eighteenth birthday alone this time. I promise, really.”
“I hope you’re right,” you let the boy intertwine his fingers with yours, “I’ve been meeting you in my dreams for the longest time. Things like this don’t happen, so I believe you might be telling the truth.”
His eyebrows furrowed adorably as he shook his head, “I always tell the truth, lying is wrong. Besides, I would never do that to you.”
“Indeed.” You grinned lightly, and only now had you remembered this had been the first time in a while where you had shown genuine merriment. Night had taken over, and now the dark sky was covered in multiple little stars that, although from your perspective they barely sparkled, you were sure they glowed the brightest if close enough. Sometimes, what shines the most is not always the first thing noticed. The boy holding your hand frequently questioned why you couldn’t see that on yourself; why you couldn’t see how dazzling you really were, like the twinkling balls of fire that called themselves stars. Sighing with joy, you kept staring up at the endless heavens, the lively moon being your only source of light. “Hey?” You spoke up again, earning yourself a hum from the handsome boy. He didn’t seem to age, he still looked the same as he did the first time you ever saw him in yours dreams. Now, you realized his features resembled the same as a regular teenager like you, except he was obviously striking. “I’ve been meeting you here for as long as I can remember, but I never got your name.”
He chuckled, thinking you sounded cute. His free hand gently pulled at a fully bloomed rose, its scarlet red shade so bright and vibrant in the scarce night light. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that yet, love.” He shook his head, releasing your hand and instead replacing his own with the beautiful rose. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough, you just have to wait a little bit more. Then, you will get an answer to all your questions. They say patience is key.” Standing up, he carefully pulled you up with him too, pressing a faint kiss to your forehead. “Lovely, it’s time for you to leave.”
“But I don’t want to.” You muttered, not quite looking forward to another lonely day.
The boy laughed lowly as he began walking in the opposite path from where you initially came from. “Dont worry, you see me here everyday, right? I’ll be waiting for you here on your next dream. And the next one, and the one after, and the one after. I will always be waiting. Just do me a favor, will you? Take that rose with you, consider it my early birthday gift. Keep it, and care for it. Also, remember my promises, I won’t ever break them.”
Just like that, he disappeared in the multitude of blooming flowers, as you felt yourself fade away from the world you wished was your reality.
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You woke up from your deep slumber, a smile etched across your face as you thought of your little secret, who you always encountered in your dreams wearing the same white suit. Your conscious itself was still adapting to the daylight of a new day and the comforting heat radiating all the way from your window. Hair disheveled, and eyes puffy from sleep, you had not woken up yet completely. As your senses adjusted, strangely enough, you felt something smooth against your arm, only then noticing the red rose resting nicely next to you while its petals softly kissed at your skin. A gasp left your lips instantly, and you quickly scurried off the bed as fast as lighting to stare incredulously at the flower laying on it. You were a hundred percent sure that was not there before drifting off. Yet, as freaked out as you were, the boy’s words filled your mind, and you reluctantly picked up the gorgeous plant to place it in a vase of fresh water.
The brand new day carried on as always, unwanted and repetitive. Many outsiders who traveled from the bigger cities claimed your small town was breathtaking; here, they didn’t have to deal with the awful sounds or smells that the multiple factories over there emitted, they didn’t have to deal with the large streets full of traffic and impatient car horns from people who were desperate to get home. Here, your town was everything but the opposite. Streets were not paved, instead, they were nice dirt paths created by the town’s own people so cars could drive by easily. It was mostly rural; adorned with greenery, flowers, crops and the overall touch of unbothered Mother Nature. A huge pond occupied by different, colorful fish was located in the center of the town, also serving as a usual meeting spot for friends or couples who wanted to have a lovely day out. Lastly, the most special detail; a large river stream ran through, which had been decorated between the passing years with several tiny shops and homely bakeries that had slowly started forming alongside it. Generally, it reminded you of pictures from Venice, Italy that you’d see on the internet.
In spite of how gifting your little town was, it’s not like you could enjoy it when you had no one to explore it with. You had your fair shares of adventures around it when you were young, but as you inevitably grew older, so did the cravings for companionship, for a friend. A friend you didn’t have. Growing up without any parents somehow prevented children at school from befriending you, claiming it was weird to not have a mother or a father. You never blamed them, nor did you resent them; they were merely young kids, who were almost just as clueless as you.
Due to many unpleasant experiences, you began believing this town had nothing else in store for you other than remind you of the unforgettable truth, so you often refrained from going out when it was unneeded. Living alone had also slowly become bearable; either way, you had to learn how to because there was nobody else who would be able to guide you through life. There was no choice but to become independent at an early age.
After taking a warm shower and placing the unexpected rose in a vase, you decided to make yourself some chamomile tea. While waiting for the water to boil, your eyes spotted a rusty note that was messily folded, laying on the kitchen counter. It appeared almost crumpled, like it had been bunched up in a rush. You confusedly stared at it for a short moment, trying to remember whether there had been a note there last night when you cleaned the kitchen isle. A sudden whistle interrupted your puzzled thoughts just as you were about to open up the strange looking letter, bringing you out of your daze as the loud hiss reminded you the boiling, hot water was finally ready. Cursing under your breath, you quickly whipped around in a hurry to turn off the stove, forgetting about the wrinkled paper altogether.
The rest of your day went by unbothered, the night sky catching up quicker than you had presumed. Regardless, it didn’t faze you. Rather than upsetting you, it only caused a huge wave of excitement to travel along your body; you knew what the night meant. You let out a squeal that bounced off the walls as you observed through the window the dark sky that had engulfed the whole town, decorated by the bright moon that had replaced the yellow, warm sun. It was only seven at night when you read the time on the digital clock hung on the thorough, wooden walls. You hurried off to your room, where you quickly readied yourself for sleep.
Not long after, you found yourself barefooted in the same place as always, although this time autumn season had began. Unlike reality, time worked distinctly in your dreams. When it was nighttime in the real world, it was daytime in your thoughts. Yet, you couldn’t understand why the season suddenly changed, you weren’t quite sure this had happened before. Right in front of your eyes, the oak tree you were so used to see standing gracefully with flowing, vibrant leaves, was slowly becoming leafless while the few ones that did manage to stick to the branches jumped between different, several warm and golden tones. The grasslands that were once a blanket of only verdant green with the occasional colorful flowers that would stand out, was now an ocean of faded orange mixed with a faint tint of pinkish red. Underneath the oak tree sat him, but this time he was not dressed in the same white suit from always; he was wearing casual clothes, and his typical perfectly brushed hair was left down and fluffy, covering most of his forehead.
White denim jeans paired with a white denim jacket, and a loose light, grey t-shirt tucked carelessly inside his pants; he seemed to already know what you were wondering, and answered your question before you even got the chance to take a seat on the dried autumn grass. “Everything is different because something important is nearing. No,” he giggled when he noticed you lean forward with a new question ready to be asked, “I can’t tell you what the special occasion is. Chill, you’ll find out in no time.”
Whining, you slightly sulked with an annoyed look plastered on your face, “I’m tired of all these weird clues.”
“Don’t worry, the answers are closer than you think. Quit sulking, drama queen.” He grinned warmly. The scenery appeared ridiculous when compared to his radiant smile, it was a battle he’d win right away effortlessly. A sudden breeze passed by, offering a pleasant warmth that felt sensational as the air slowly became cooler every time the season developed more. Whenever you met up with him, you always had new things to interrogate him for, but just recently your inquiries had gotten much bigger as you found yourself in stranger situations leading towards him. You turned to glance at him, despite his side profile being the only sight you could get from your current view, you knew he still looked unreal as ever. “I noticed you kept the rose.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, “how do you know?”
“Can’t answer that either.” He shrugged with a cheeky grin, exhaling with calmness as he rested on his elbows, basking in the warm, soft breezes that blew by every now and then. His chestnut brown hair moved fluidly along with the infrequent winds too, letting his forehead show up for a split second. You thought he seemed so peaceful like this. Truthfully, he always looked peaceful, but today his features were particularly serene as they emitted a feeling of tranquility, even you felt it. He hummed, opening his eyes for a short moment before closing them again, “you forgot to read the note. I’ll get rid of that one and send a new one when you wake up. Make sure to read it, no excuses.”
A small huff of disbelief escaped your lips, as they soon turned into a smile. “Are you sure you’re not a witch? You were the one who put the rose on the bed, right? Because how else would that magically be there? Please answer me before I go insane.” You massaged your temples gently to simmer down all the jumbled emotions that had fallen upon you. “I thought you were just part of my imagination, but I’m doubting that now. Oh my God, what are you? There’s literally no way I can bring a flower out of my dreams-”
“Just part of your imagination, what am I? An imaginary friend? Sorry,” he laughed, “I’m not that. Yeah, I was the one who placed the rose next to you; but no, I won’t answer how.” You could tell he was having fun watching you experience an existential crisis in the middle of your dreams, it entertained him more than he would like to admit. “Today you seem very curious, that’s no good. So, we will be parting ways sooner than we usually do.”
“Wait, no, what-”
With only the snap of his fingers, it was nighttime, like a light switch had been flicked and suddenly the brightness was turned off. Due to the fast approaching winter lurking just around the corner, it was freezing cold, the temperatures so low you stared at the unfazed boy like he was crazy. You immediately began shivering, and he calmly took the time to place his denim jacket over your trembling shoulders. Honestly, the piece of clothing didn’t really provide you with much cover, but the warmth of his body that had stuck to it was enough to decrease the clattering of your teeth and the goosebumps that had formed on your arm the moment the temperatures abruptly dropped. “You can take that with you. For now, we have to go. Goodbye lovely, we’ll see each other soon.”
Your body shot up on bed in shock, anxiously feeling around your shoulders where indeed, a jacket comfortably rested on. His jacket. You felt like crying from all the utter confusion, so many questions swirling in your head that you wanted to desperately ask. Breathing irregular, you stood up with a slight stumble as you made your way towards the bathroom with a failing vision until you were able to grip the small counter, your reflection showing back on the flimsy mirror. There was no tone to your skin, which was accompanied by a light dampness; your throat felt like it was stinging and your nose was extremely runny. Was this a cold? A sharp pain hit at your temples before a grunt left your lips, demanding you to get some rest. Using all the strength you could muster, you went back to bed, falling weakly on the soft mattress.
“You fucker, now I’m sick.” You gritted through you teeth with irritation. As if on cue to your words, another crumpled ball of paper flew onto your forehead, gently bouncing off and onto the bedsheets. You cursed again, rolling your eyes before opening up the letter. It looked old, the delicate paper was covered in several creases and ink stains that were smeared all over the page; inside, was the messiest handwriting you had ever seen before. Squinting, you tried your best to make out the tangled words that were scribbled down.
Before I even start; you got to stop cursing young woman. The Heavens are watching and won’t be happy at you. Now, off to the actual letter. You must still remember your grandmother telling you about it, this was the note she was talking to you about. How are you? I hope you’re dealing alright with that nasty cold, honest, I knew you’d catch one after that weather. It’s alright though, it won’t last longer than three days, enough for you to spend your awaiting birthday without any bothersome sicknesses. How does it feel to be turning eighteen years old in four days time? Maybe you didn’t believe me, or maybe you did, but I’m still keeping promise to my words, and I assure you; your eighteenth birthday won’t be spent alone, neither will be your other birthdays to come. You’ve come so far in life, you have battled so much and yet you’re still overflowing with strength. You definitely deserve answers to all the questions you’ve often wondered about.
Remember all those fairy tales you would hear all the time from your grandparents? The ones you loved so, so much? Many of them were really only that; tales and nothing more, just something to keep you entertained, except for one. No, soulmates are not a lie, or merely another created narration from your lovely storytellers, they’re a real thing. You’ll meet your soulmate soon, I promise. I could tell you who it is, but I’d rather wait and watch you find it out yourself. For the meanwhile, you can look at your wrist the day you turn eighteen, you’ll notice some words engraved on it. They’re meant to be your soulmate’s first words ever said to you; in person, so the flesh and bones. I feel like I gotta make that clear because you’re so dense. When you do finally meet them, the words will fade away. Overall, you’re going to get a gut feeling when you meet the right person, you won’t even need to check your wrist to know. Everybody is destined to meet their soulmate sooner or later, you would know about it more if you ever left the house, lazy. Since you don’t, you’re not really aware of how many people out there have already found their fated lover. Even your folks were destined soulmates. Everybody is.
You certainly are curious. No, don’t be scared, stop thinking I’m a witch, I’m not. Yes, I can read your thoughts and I can feel your emotions. Yeah, even though I wrote this way before you read it. I can already decipher them from days, hours, minutes and seconds before. What’s up, I hereby officially present myself to you as your Guardian Angel. Just as one gets assigned a soulmate, they can also get assigned a Guardian Angel, way before they’re even born; life is weird. Truth be told, your family already knew me. This is why your grandmother asked you to wait for the letter, otherwise she knew your stubborn self wouldn’t have budged. Someone like me can only do much, I don’t really form a part of what The Heavens decide; therefore, I wasn’t aware that you were involved in a car crash along with your parents. As your Guardian Angel, I can only save the one assigned to me, that being you. And, as far as decisions go, it had also already been determined by The Heavens they would be taking your parent’s lives early. I don’t know why, but they must have their own reasons. One thing I can assure you though, is that their last breath was peaceful. All they wanted was for you to be fine, and they knew you’d be.
No one from your family had a Guardian Angel for themselves because it’s actually a rare thing to get one assigned. You were part of the small percent who did attain one. I’m not just a creation from the depths of your dreams, but it was the only place through which I could communicate with you for the meantime. Our situation though... it’s a little complex, or different, but very special since it barely ever happens. Little to no chances, I mean. Again, I’ll leave that for you to figure out. Look out for my visit on the 28th, your birthday. Once you turn eighteen, I’m allowed to see you. Not in your dreams, or thoughts or imagination, just reality. See, right? I promised you. You won’t be spending your birthday alone anymore, and I never break my promises.
I also want you to know, your parents and grandparents; they’re fine, they’re resting well. I really am sorry that I was not able to do anything to save your parents, trust me, if I could have, I would’ve. Thank you, for always thinking so fondly of me and calling me your hero when you were young, even though you didn’t even know what I was. I’m glad you looked up to me. Don’t worry, and don’t cry, remember I can feel when you’re unhappy; I can already tell as I’m writing this letter that you are in tears. Don’t be, I know you frequently worry about your family, if they left happy or sad; or, if they left in peace or not. They’re totally happy in The Heavens, where nobody suffers. You don’t have to be concerned over them anymore, they’re in peace and their wish is for you to be too.
Yes, silly, Guardian Angels can age. Mine was just frozen at twenty until I meet you. I still have a lot of explaining to do but you have to figure out the important part first.
I hope this letter answered all your big questions, it seems like it did. I apologize again, that I couldn’t save your parents. But, do believe me, they’re all fine. Stop crying, it makes me sad too. I can’t wait to finally meet you, I’ve been already waiting more than eighteen years. Anyways, I’ll be ending this here, lovely. I know your grandma said it was only a note but this got longer than I had planned, oops. See you soon,
Na Jaemin, your Guardian Angel.
Your hands shook as the crippled letter fell from your trembling grip, tears running down your face uncontrollably. You wouldn’t say your cries were of anguish, but rather, peacefulness. Peace because now you finally knew your parents were fine, and peace within yourself after that discovery. It was a question you initially thought was impossible to get an answer for. For the longest time, you had felt guilty you were given a second chance while they were not; but, although you still firmly believed they were taken unfairly from you, at least you knew they were okay. Words were not enough to express how you currently felt. So, the world that you thought to be so ugly and malicious actually had things such as soulmates and Guardian Angels? You always doubted they existed, much less were you able to process you were gifted with the two. It never crossed your mind that the boy in your dreams, Na Jaemin, was the reason why you were even alive.
You always told yourself the world had so much to make up for after taking away your loved ones. Little did you know you had been meeting with the most important person in your life for the entirety of it. Suddenly, it was you who had to make up for so much. The question was, how would you do something greater than what Na Jaemin did for you? He was after all, your literal savior.
And you’d be meeting him soon.
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November 28th finally arrived, your cold long gone as the time hit twelve o’clock at midnight. Anxiously, you looked down, and time felt like it had slowed. Although the seconds kept counting down just fine, you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your veins as you watched black, cursive words gradually show up on your wrist. ‘Hello, lovely.’ You exhaled with a shaky breath, gliding your finger over the words swiftly; they looked like they had been tattooed on your wrist for a long time now despite their recent appearance. Astonished, you cursed before glancing around your bedroom, unsure of what to do and completely ignoring the angel’s previous scolding for your bad habit of swearing. It all seemed unreal to you, but the constant burn of the pinching you inflicted upon yourself assured you it wasn’t. Your heart rate was beating at rapid speeds, and you began wondering if it would eventually thump out of your chest to escape from all the unstoppable adrenaline rushing chaotically through your entire body.
“Alright, calm down, fuck.” The angel could only watch you in amusement from afar, shaking his head at your raw language.
The midnight winds were tremendously cool as the winter temperatures continued to drop, the heater or the cosy clothing you currently wore were not enough to fully rid you of the icy atmosphere. You wished you’d meet the angel in your dreams, so you could be welcomed by a warm and sultry weather. Unfortunately, you had not gotten to see him after the day you read the long, messy letter he wrote. It was weird to not have the daily visions you had grown so accustomed to.
Somewhere during the very early hours of the morning, you managed to drift off into a deep sleep, unable to meet the angel once again. You woke up to a much more pleasant climate air, and you would’ve been happy about it if it weren’t for the many doubts you awoke with. It had been four days since you had last seen him. The usual scenery you always magically appeared in with the help of your brain didn’t develop in the deepness of your thoughts; you didn’t care about your birthday anymore, you cared for the boy from your dreams. You still had to learn to call him by his actual name, but it was harder than you expected when he had basically been nameless for most of your life. Na Jaemin, you had never heard that name around your town or anywhere else, it was just as unique as him.
“I heard you calling?”
You shrieked, tumbling off the bed and onto the hardwood floor as your chest heaved up and down in fear. Quickly, you stood up on your feet, where you locked wide eyes with the charming smile you always admired, a grin beaming with pearly whites showing through that could light up the whole world. There he stood gracefully, unlike you, wearing the same attire he had been sporting the last time you saw him; of course, minus the denim jacket you occasionally hugged to sleep. Instead of the same brown hair he always had, it was now a light shade of blonde, to the point where it nearly looked silver. Eyes still widened in alarm after his unexpected arrival, you carried on taking in his features and tall figure; lean and majestic, exactly as you had described him the first time. He was absolute breathtaking, and his beauty only seemed more glorious face to face; you were utterly speechless.
An almost quiet giggle went past his lips, a smile still adorning his features as he carefully approached you upon noticing your frozen state. There was a slight glow that outlined his physique, similar to the one you always caught sight of as a child, but not as strong. With gentle movements, his hand softly came up to cup your cheek, tenderly caressing at the skin before pulling you into a warm embrace. You gasped, his swift actions successfully bringing you out of your daze; and ultimately, with shaky hands, you wrapped your arms around his torso tightly as well. He hummed lowly in satisfaction at the feeling of your returned hug, already loving how it felt to finally be held by you.
Hugging him felt oddly nice to you, there was an emotion inside that you couldn’t quite describe, but you knew for sure it was a feeling you had never experienced before. You felt free and no longer alone, like you had known him your entire life; not just because of the dreams where the two of you conversed, it was a feeling more personal than that, like he had always been there with you. Not all your senses worked in your nightly thoughts, and only now were you able to bask in the sweet smell that engulfed him; he smelled like home. Like the tall, grassy grounds he was always sitting on under the same familiar oak tree as he waited for you. Like the roses and tulips that were fully bloomed in all their grandeur by summer time, and like the warm sunrays that never failed to make his skin naturally glow with dewiness. You had never smelled anything in your dreams, because it simply was impossible, but you didn’t have to; you knew right away he was the epitome of the place where you always met up, in all the five senses. The enthralling landscape, the soothing sounds of nature, the sweet taste of honeysuckles, the feeling of the flowing grasses, the earthy scent of threes and flowers; all put together into a human body.
Not only did he feel like home, but his embrace also provided a sensation of comfort and safety that nobody else could emulate. Your heart was beating rapidly, but this time it wasn’t out of shock, it was nervousness. You felt like you had made the biggest discovery ever, yet you were not sure what the find was. Still, everything somehow felt right amidst the thundering thump of your chest that rang loudly in your ears.
“Hello, lovely.” He whispered in your ear, feeling the smile on his face as his lips gently pressed against the side of your head.
Overcome with emotion, a tear ran down your cheek before slightly pulling away so you could properly look up at him. “Thank you, for saving me. Thank you so much... Jaemin. How will I ever repay you?”
“Silly,” he simply chuckled, “you don’t have to repay me with anything, meeting you is enough.”
You nodded as he ran his fingers through your hair, confessing, “I feel very comfortable around you, even though I just met you. Well, in person, I’m still confused.”
“It’s totally normal,” Jaemin replied as he pulled away from his tight embrace, softly patting your back, “technically, I’ve always been here, you just couldn’t see me. Reminds me; happy birthday, lovely.”
Heart fluttering at his words, you began feeling all giddy and fluffy inside despite not understanding the reason why. You could not fathom why he was having such a huge impact on you already. “I have a question.”
“Not surprised.”
“Do you, perhaps, have any wings or a halo?”
Jaemin giggles in amusement at your question, shaking his head. “I don’t, but I used to. We only have wings and halos when we’re in The Heavens, not on Earth. I’m meant to form part of Earth from now on, so I can’t really show you, except for the glow around my body. That, I choose whether I want you to see it or not.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “Yeah, I’m still a Guardian Angel, your Guardian Angel specifically.”
Your cheeks flushed a faint tint of pink, muttering as you looked down at your feet, “stop reading my thoughts.”
“What? Are you scared I’m going to hear something naughty or weird one day? Don’t worry, I’ve heard plenty of those. Also heard multiple times you think I’m god-worthy handsome. Thanks, by the way. Its okay, it’s normal for me now. Just keep your thoughts in check, where did you learn all those dirty things, young lady?”
“Jaemin!” You screeched in embarrassment, your cheeks only becoming redder than they previously were, his grip tightening around you lovingly.
The boy shook with laughter, a melodious sound to your ears that you wanted to keep hearing for the rest of your life, and if it weren’t for the awful embarrassment you were experiencing, you would’ve surely relished in the contagious cackles more. Being with Jaemin was natural, it didn’t feel awkward at all, you instantly knew you could trust him with anything; besides, meeting him in your dreams for the past fifteen years was enough time to warm up to him.
“Come on,” you grabbed his hand, letting go not long after when a jolt shot through your arm. “What the hell! What was that?”
“You better stop cursing around me,” Jaemin jokingly warned, narrowing his eyes at you, “you have to find that out for yourself. I never thought you’d be this clueless, to be honest.”
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“And lastly, this is the basement; tour is finally done! This used to be my grandparent’s house from mom’s side, where I spent my whole childhood in. My dad’s parents lived a little farther away and their house wasn’t roomy enough to take me, but they still visited here constantly; it felt like they all lived together, honestly.” You explained to the tall boy. You had decided to show him around, still rocking your hideous pajamas, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Jaemin hummed as he listened to you, eyes skimming over the wide, empty room; of course, he already knew every single part of your house like the back of his hand. He had been watching you your entire life, chances are he even recognized it better than you. Though, as he gazed at you with loving eyes, you seemed too excited showing him around so much that he chose to remain quiet and carry on pretending he was unfamiliar with everything surrounding him.
Your grandparent’s house was extremely welcoming; as most houses in your town, this was also built solely out of pure wood. It wasn’t exactly a cabin, but rather a small suburban home. Everything inside consisted of mostly vintage items left behind by your folks, the only modern objects around being the ones they had bought for you. As for the backyard, it wasn’t really spacious, but it was well appreciated and cared for since majority of the homes in the town didn’t have one. Your grandmother was always making sure her garden looked appealing at all times; and in memory of her, you would regularly keep it neat in spite of your hatred for gross bugs and itchy plants.
“I used to always come down here when I wanted to play with old stuff, like landline phones or typewriter machines, I thought they were quite fun.” You smiled automatically at the fond memories. “Oh! I also remember accidentally catching Grandpa and Grandma kissing, it was disgusting.”
Jaemin laughed, recalling the time you found your grandparents being way too romantic for your young mind to comprehend, and your startled eyes before running off as soon as you had identified the scene in front.
You sat down on the dusty wooden floors that were in strong needs of some good polishing and sweeping as you called Jaemin over. Complying, he took a seat next to you, creating a feeling of familiarity just like you would usually sit together in your dreams; except this time, the two of you were in a basement desperately screaming for a deep clean. You were certain his white clothes would be totally dirty by the time you left the room. “I forgot to tell you, you were right about the whole soulmate words thing.”
“Did you think it was a lie?” He cocked an eyebrow, paired with a sly smirk.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” You waved your hands in the air fearing he had gotten the wrong idea.
Giggling, he nodded and brought your hands down gently, “I know what you mean. Tell me about it.” He might’ve been a holy being, but he had never experienced love for endless decades. Now that he finally found you, he couldn’t stop the crazy thumping of his heart.
“Okay so, I stayed awake until midnight yesterday - well, today, actually... anyways - besides the point.” Jaemin smiled adoringly at your cute stutters and fumbled ranting. He had learnt years ago that you stumbled over your own words when you were ecstatic about something. Hearing your thoughts in the distance was nearly impossible when he was so close to you, and it was inevitable to catch what your mind was currently thinking. You were talking, but your mind kept saying he looked ethereal right now next to you, going as far as comparing him to the most prepossessing events from Earth itself and claiming he was still prettier. “So, as I was telling you, I stayed awake ‘till midnight and you were right! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I noticed small letters appear on my wrist out of the blue, it was freaky to see it firsthand. Do you want to see?”
A cocky smirk was threatening to show up on Jaemin’s lips sooner or later, whether it be for your thoughts about him or what you were about to find out; yet, he fought the feeling and simply agreed at your request. It felt like euphoria was devouring him whole, but outside, he maintained a serene stance when you raised your wrist up to his eyes. As expected by him but not by you, the words were no longer there. A piercing shriek that hurt his ears left you upon realizing your wrist was not marked with the cursive letters anymore. Jaemin could only internally crack up at the sight of you scrambling away in panic, rushing towards the small window on the wall to get a better look of your arm with the aid of the sunrays. There was, in fact, nothing there.
The angel pondered playfully, humming specially loud so you’d be able to catch the mischief in his tone, “I thought you wanted to show me something? I don’t see anything there.”
Eyes wide like they were about to jump out of their sockets, you turned to look at him with a frightened expression, whining. “What do you know that I don’t?”
With a grunt, Jaemin got up from the floor as he brushed off the dust on his clothes, rolling his eyes at your question. “Silly girl,” he approached, your feet moving backwards the closer he got, eventually stopping when your back hit the wall behind you, “you’re so bad at this game.” He smiled cheekily before flicking your forehead.
“Ow!”
“Lovely, what did I explain it meant when the words faded away? Do you remember what I first said when I arrived?”
Oh. You realized what the current situation was. Jaemin was your fated soulmate, and as always, you did not notice because you were distracted; unsurprisingly, distracted by him. “But you’re not exactly human? How is it possible?”
He shrugged, running a hand through your hair, “Heaven and God are complicated. Angels can have human soulmates if that’s how The Heavens decide it, the only benefit you get, is you get to know when you’ll meet them - unlike humans who have no idea if they’re even gonna be fated to somebody or they’ll leave the world tragically because of their wrongdoings. The downside is that angels can take thousands and thousands of years to meet their soulmate; I was lucky to only have to wait three hundred.”
“Three hundred years!? But how come you’re twenty years old, how did you become an angel? Does me feeling all happy and sappy around you have to do with all this?” You were freaking out, but you didn’t want him to misunderstand.
Jaemin nodded, pulling you down onto the floor with him again, “there are two different types of angels; angels and Guardian Angels. Angels are people that died before their innocence was tainted which is basically all newborns or young children; teenagers and adults can too, just not as often. Guardian Angels are beings created by God himself, so unlike angels, we never existed in Earth first.” His hands were fiddling nervously with the end of his t-shirt, fingers adorned with a few silver rings. “We’re only allowed to meet our soulmate until they turn eighteen, so our age freezes at twenty while we wait. Angels can’t see their soulmate like I did in your dreams, but since I’m your Guardian Angel, I’m required to watch and care for you at all times. So, it’s acceptable to reveal myself to you discretely. And yeah,” he sheepishly giggled, “that’s why you feel all happy and sappy around me. I do too.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I guess. Someone dumb like me can only handle so much information, Jaemin.”
He snickered. “Yeah, you’re right.”
You pushed him away playfully, a small smile lingering on your lips before a blush took over your features. You never had a boyfriend previously, and you had no idea what to do from now on. Jaemin looked lovely as ever, the attraction you had for him only heightening as the bond became stronger. His once fully white clothes were now slightly covered in dust, as so was his face. Despite that and his tinted cheeks that you assumed were like that because he intruded your thoughts once again, he was the same handsome boy from your dreams that never failed to make you smile. Now, he’d be by your side for more than your usual six hours of sleep, and you were thrilled, to say the least. Meeting him for real got your heart rushing and doing flips, you didn’t know what that initially meant; but now you were sure it had to be love. It felt strange to feel something as deep as love for someone you met minutes ago. Then again, Jaemin was more than a soulmate; he had basically been with you the entirety of your life, your love went higher than a mere soulmate bond. “So, what do we do now?”
Rosy cheeks, the angel was still not able to look at you after listening to your thoughts. He knew he had to stop doing that, but it wasn’t easy when they sounded so loud and tempting in his ears. “Can I kiss you? I’ve really wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you.”
A series of wild coughs took over you upon hearing Jaemin’s confession, your reaction only making him feel giddier than he already was. “I - sorry,” the attack in your throat gradually slowed down, “I’m just, Ive never had my first kiss before, I’m new to all of this.”
He scurried closer with cheeky eyes, the darkening daylight that managed to show through the tiny window in the room signaled that the sun was beginning to set, the basement now drowned in a vibrant, saturated mandarin shade. Your breath hitched instantly when he cupped your cheeks, his eyes fully sparkling with love and adoration for you, gaze traveling down your features until it landed on your lips. He wet his own unknowingly, slightly parting them as light, irregular puffs of breathes left him. Jaemin leaned in, closing the short gap that was once between the two of you until the same jolt of electricity from before warmly hit you.
His lips tasted sugary sweet, like he had been previously sucking at the nectar from the honeysuckles you loved to have in your dreams. Now, you were certain that there was indeed something sweeter than honesuckles. Not only did he taste sweet, he felt sweet too. His mouth moved against yours slowly, the rhythm at which you two kissed was a little bit sloppy, but neither of you cared about it; hands still gently holding your cheeks while your own found their preferred location, lightly grabbing at his shoulders. Jaemin pulled back, chest heaving with pants as he attempted to catch his breath, leaning in again after whispering lowly against your lips.
“Hadn’t had my first kiss either.”
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“Na Jaemin, you’re supposed to be an angel from Heaven!”
The boy ignored your protests, keeping you trapped between his body and the wooden wall as he continued a fiery assault on your neck, lips trailing all the way down to your collarbones where he mercilessly sucked hard reds and purples at the delicate skin.
Months had quickly gone by after finding out the angel was your fated special someone, and time flew peacefully as your feelings for each other grew more and more at rapid lengths, if it was even possible to be any more infatuated than you already were. A lot of remarkable things had happened once Jaemin officially stepped into your life; you weren’t low-spirited anymore like you used to be, coming to terms with yourself that Jaemin was happiness itself, it was impossible to remain miserable with someone as bright as him around. Although your biggest dream had always been to visit the wonderful cities that you knew awaited outside your small town, you decided to stay here; often reminding you of the views you’d always encounter in your imagination whenever you met up with the angel, instead of your parents like you used to believe.
Christmas was the best holiday you had spent, drowning in all the love Jaemin cherished you with while his arms held you tightly to his body as you both cuddled in front of the warm fireplace, under large, fluffy blankets. Or, the softness of his lips that pressed against yours in utter passion after he had shamelessly placed random mistletoes all around the house as an excuse to kiss you all throughout winter. It was little things like that, that made you fall deeper for him. Spring was slowly coming to an end as summer prepared to engulf everybody in the heat of its shining sun and the hot temperatures that gradually became warmer every day. You couldn’t wait for the orangey sunsets that were soon to come so you could take Jaemin out to the small shops located along the river, accompanied by the relaxing sounds of the streaming fresh waters and forgotten 70’s songs that the old ladies from the stores never failed to play.
With time, you found out Jaemin was tremendously clingy and overwhelmingly sappy. For a while, he seemed absolutely pure, the tittle well deserved since he did belong to the vast heavens that he described as divinely glorious. You believed him, for his looks and personality where the exact same. Though, your perception of innocence that you had for him might’ve gone overboard, because even a harmless angel like him could sometimes overflow with a burning fire of love and want.
“Are you even allowed to do things like this?” You whined under his towering frame, refusing to let out any sounds of satisfaction. He was supposed to be a holy and saint being, yet here he was, licking and biting at your skin with no remorse. No matter how hard you tried to keep quiet, the shocks of pleasure that his naughty kisses sent throughout you entire body were inevitable and tough to neglect, when the feeling was so exquisite.
He was panting with need, wasting no time in taking off both your shirts as his hands instantly began roaming around your unconvered, warm skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him, “it’s fine.” His hands slowly moved up towards your flushed face, taking their own sweet time to run over your tummy and all the way up to your chest, which received special extra attention, until he eventually reached your cheeks and brought you into a rough kiss. Jaemin’s lips devoured you like there was no tomorrow, like he was a starved man, occasionally biting gingerly at your lower lip before lightly swiping his tongue across, engaging the wet muscles in a battle he would surely win. “Please, touch me.”
You pulled away shortly with ragged breaths, lips a cherry red and fully swollen from all the endless sucking he had inflicted on them. “Na Jaemin, are you sure this is right? I’ve never done anything dirty yet I swear I feel like I’m corrupting you so bad-”
“Stop swearing, it’s wrong.”
Jaw dropped in disbelief, you glanced up at the shirtless boy who still had you pressed against the wall with no way out, “I - you’re saying that while trying to get into my pants! I’m pretty sure swearing is the least of concerns here.”
“I’m not the one who’s thinking about sex all the time, you expect me to go through my day calmly when you’re thinking such naughty stuff?” Jaemin whined with a pout, running his fingers through his blonde locks in frustration before unexpectedly picking your flustered self up. He hurriedly carried you towards the bedroom, ignoring your loud screams demanding to put you down as he gently threw your body onto the soft mattress. “I’m literally a teenage boy, I have needs and your thoughts don’t help,” he kept complaining, “this is totally normal, it’s fine as long as it is with your soulmate, I promise. Now, please, woman.” The angel proceeded to leave a trail of feathery, wet kisses down your neck again, eyes landing on your bra straps before they locked with your gaze and wordlessly asked for permission.
Nodding slowly, you pulled Jaemin down and locked lips once again; though, this time it felt like all your unsaid emotions were pouring out into the desperate kiss, love being the biggest one swimming in the pools of several, different sentiments. He returned the kiss delicately as your hands slightly tugged at the little hairs that rested on the back of his neck, eliciting tiny moans and groans that rumbled in his hard chest. Breaths of pleasure that you swallowed escaped his mouth, the kiss progressively becoming messier and harsher as you allowed yourselves to get lost in the euphoric feeling of your bodies pressed close together, the warmth the radiated from your bare skin igniting a huge fire of arousal within the two of you.
“I love you. So much.” Jaemin pecked your lips one last time with a sincere smile, hands gliding over your shoulder blades as they unclasped your bra, gently sliding off the straps with eyes that twinkled with nothing but absolute love, lust and devotion. “I’m gonna take you higher than Heaven.”
“Jaemin! Don’t be rude!” Right then and there, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be; in the arms of your lover as he showed you a deeper intimacy than you had ever shared before. Despite all you had gone through, life gifted you with the greatest present, Na Jaemin. You didn’t have to dream anymore to feel at home, he brought it with himself.
A celestial angel, indeed. Life was no longer unbearable for you, it was the best thing ever; and you were ready to live it at its fullest.
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danifics18 · 4 years ago
Text
↪  Into the Unknown  ↩
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being awoken on a beach shore not knowing where you were was a scary thing, it was even scarier realizing you weren’t in the world you were meant to be in. with no recollection of your past life besides the backpack with a few of your items, the only thing you could do was adapt, and so that’s what you did.
Tags : Pirate! Ateez // OC Reader // Dark Themes of Death, Prostitution and Slave Trading // Themes of Deities and Spirituality // Alternate Universe // Eventual OT8xReader???
A/N : This is my first attempt at a multi-fic, and I’ve had this thought in my head for a while. The world that this takes place in is different than our own, although, time-wise is very similar to our 17th Century. My OC does have two names Adrie/Adrian, seeing that she does conceal her identity for a while Adrie is pronounced like A-Dree. I know most people would pronounce it as Audrey, but I’m trying to make the names make sense to use them that similarly. The next chapter will be a bit more fast paced, and will actually have a sign of the boys, so stay tuned!
As always, let me know about any mistakes I may have made, anything I should tag if i haven’t already, or let me know what your thoughts are !!
Word Count : 4416
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One.
Sometimes I didn’t know if this was just some fucked up nightmare that my mind was tricking me to believe, or if I just had the worst fate ever. As much as I appreciate Dorian, and all the years he put into making sure I would actually grow up in a normal environment, I do wonder what would’ve happened if he hadn’t found me.
It was obvious that I wouldn't have made it out alive. A random fourteen year old, covered in pruned skin, and a sun bloated body found being washed up on the beach after a particularly bad storm. That enough would've made people suspicious, but to find out that kid was a woman as well? Witchcraft. I wouldn’t even be able to plead for a different outcome, I would’ve been killed in the courtroom.
Thankfully, no one really questioned when Fisherman Dorian Meadows started to bring a new face to the village, claiming that the boy is his son from a different island he frequented. Well not really everyone, his sister and town merchant Arcelia Meadow, knew better. She knew her brother was still heartbroken over the loss of his wife Gilda and son Augie, although their deaths had happened at least twenty years prior. So she knew that this new boy wasn’t biologically his anyways, deciding that she would offer support if he needs it, but would otherwise separate herself from the small boy in case he was bad news.
It took a while for me to really get my footing on learning how to live here on the island of Reindall. Not only from living in a new place, but also learning how to live as a boy. When Dorian had found me it was very obvious that I was just some really skinny kid who hadn’t hit the age of maturity yet. I hadn’t developed any curves or anything that most people would expect to see if they saw a woman. And I didn’t have any signs of sprouting facial hair, or deepened voice that you’d expect from a man. I just looked like a pretty faced child that could pass off as either sex, with green mid shoulder hair. At first, it even took Dorian by surprise when I had asked him why he kept calling me “boy”. I didn’t know if it was just one of this places customs to call all kids “boy”, regardless if they were or not, or if that was his way of speech. And with a paled face, he quickly stepped away from the pot of stew he was tending, and gave me a choice that changed my life forever. Present as a woman and have a difficult life on this island, or present as a man- and even though it would still be difficult, it wouldn’t be difficult in the same way. I wasn’t happy with choosing to present myself as a male, but even though I didn’t quite catch on to what Dorian had meant, I didn’t like the unsaid implications even more. And with that, I was given some old, patchy, oversized clothes that stank like coal and fish, and was given the name of Adrian- opposed to my actual name, Adrie.
Within the first week of me living on this island, I realized that Dorian was shit at explaining things, and he was also shit at keeping his emotions in check.His over all attitude felt vaguely familiar to me, a grumpy old man who would rather just do the thing himself rather then explain to someone else how to do it. He didn’t want to immediately send me off to work for some random person, knowing that I was probably useless, so instead he instructed me to spend the days chopping wood for fire, and taking care of his pet chickens and goats that were kept in separate pens on the side of the cottage. It took days for me to even be able to swing the ax hard enough to split wood, before I would always have my aim slightly off, or the ax would bounce off the wooden stump- instead of split it. After noticing I had improved with the wood chopping, he slowly increased the amount he wanted me to do- which ended up being not only for the cottage we were at but his sister’s as well. When it came to the animals, this is where Dorian would be frustrated with me. I could handle the goats, all they would do was headbutt my thighs- leaving some nasty bruises- and chew on my clothes on occasion, but I liked them. The chickens on the other hand scared me. It wasn’t until Dorian got pissed off enough that he just locked me in the pen for a few hours while he went down to the local tavern. That’s when I finally realized that the chickens weren't so scary, and their pecks weren’t too bad.
 As the first few months of me living in Reindall passed by, I developed muscles from chopping wood, building fences, and carrying heavy items for Arcelia- while Dorian would go out to sea to fish. I’d also finally gained some weight, making me look more filled out, which made it even more difficult to hide the fact that I was not a boy. This was, however, the first time I was really able to connect with Arcelia- one of the days I had been finishing the chicken coop she wanted behind her house, she noticed a red patch on my trousers. At first she thought I had hurt myself, until I confessed to her what was really going on. She had quickly let me have a pair of new trousers, and when her brother came over after being done with fishing for the day, she pulled him to the kitchen and they had a long discussion.
From that day forward, she helped me hide identity even better. I was taught to double layer shorts and pants just in case my bleeding started without me expecting it, and to bind my growing breasts anytime I went out. I was also able to convince her to cut my hair off to my jaw, not that men only had long hair, but for the simple fact that building items and having long hair didn’t work well together.
There isn’t very much that I remember before waking up here, but I was told that I had a bag with me. A black bag with two straps and two zipped pouches with a ‘Jansport’ tagged in some type of fake leather. Inside of that bag I had clothes and a journal of some sort. The clothes, while not similar to what is worn here, were sized up so even as I got older, I could still wear them comfortably- although besides the pair of small black stretchy shorts (my double layering shorts) I never found a chance to wear.
The journal however had at least a little bit of information. My name is Adrie Ramona, I was born on April twelfth 1999, I never talked about any siblings, I did write about how my mother let me dye my hair green before I got enrolled into a big school, and apparently I like to travel to villages called ‘Target’- yet I still wanted to go to places such as ‘New York’ and ‘Italy’. The strange thing was the fact that according to the journal, my hair should’ve went back to it’s dark auburn color, and not stay green. Also, according to Dorian, he’s never heard of the places I mentioned, and the dates aren’t comparable to each other. My last recorded date was on September thirteenth in 2013, while the date I was found was on the fifth of Rain’s Hand. The people that Dorian associates with don’t exactly know the year either, seeing that only people of high status were allowed to know- even people like the main maid of the Knight’s Guild, Ms. Ophelia, and the ex-pirate turned fisherman, Eden, were forbidden to know- because it was, as the King puts it “A god’s gift to know so much knowledge of the world” . It wasn’t so much that the people didn’t know how long a year was, they just didn’t know things like how many years the kingdom had been alive and things like that. The most years that the other villagers have recorded was up to one hundred years- which was because the local tavern owner’s father had recorded his life from his childhood onwards, and instructed his children to do so as well.
With only my limited knowledge of my past life, I had no choice but to take up Dorian’s offer of letting me live with him as long as I worked to repay him. Throughout the years of living with him, and working for Arcelia, I learnt how to sew clothes and sails, how to hold myself up in a brawl, how to use herbs and some bandages for first aid, and how to use herbs with other foods to make more flavorful meals along with baking bread. As I got older, Dorian slowly let me have more of a say in what I did, so by the time I was sixteen, I had started my own garden next to Arcelia’s chicken coop, and I would sell my vegetables at the village market.
Eventually, Dorian had to stop working for himself as a fisherman and had to start working under the King’s local fishery, due to how many boats started to go missing because of pirates. It took weeks for Dorian’s stubborn ass to finally decide to join a specific crew though. He would never admit it, but he hated how so many of the fishermen were kiss asses to the King, because they felt they’d get a pay raise. It was very obvious that he was scared that he wouldn’t come back home to see his sister and I, it would be written on his face every morning he gave me a hug before leaving- although he would always claim the opposite. Dorian was always cold and rude, but after getting to know him, I had to learn that it was his way of showing compassion. Which I didn’t like, but I did deal with. I had faith that some day he’d openly start to warm up to me.
 The crew that he joined was named ‘The J.R.’, being named after Captain Eden’s last boat before he got captured. It was a shock that he was never killed, being a pirate and all, but he was given the option of being hung at the Gallows for his crimes, or becoming the main fisherman at the local fishery. With, supposedly, his crew being dead, he decided to become a fisherman, and now he catches the most expensive fish to sell to the King himself. He must’ve been one lucky bastard though. His crew was the only one to not be affected by the pirate raids, every single other crew being raided and killed- sometimes their boats would float back to shore, sometimes only pieces would.
It wasn’t until I’d turned twenty that things started to change. The people on the north side of the island were starting to rapidly die off. It wasn’t hard to tell why. With the amount of crime that had to flourish in order for people in poverty to survive is outrageously high, on top of the Knight’s Guild using those people as someone to pin their personal crimes on. So with the north side citizens along with a lot of fishermen still being picked off, it was no surprise that the island started to run low on supplies. Not enough fisherman to catch fish. Not enough gardeners to aid their vegetables and fruits. Not enough herders to sell their animals. And most important of all, not enough running gold to keep the King happy.
Walking out of the wooden and stone cottage, I see Dorian perched against the wooden fence that surrounds the home.
“Aren’t you guys going out today?” I question as I walk towards him, seeing that he would usually be out by dawn. “No,” he replied before taking a deep breath “Listen, kid,  the King has an announcement today in the village court. If it’s what I think it is, I need you to lay low for a while. There’s no telling what will happen, but it doesn’t seem good. Join Arcelia when she goes, I’ll be joining with Captain Eden.” And with that, he nods at you and walks towards the docks, keeping his eyes low.
As I trudged on the stoned path to Arcelia’s home shop, all you could think about what the King could say. It wasn’t very often that he actually went to a town square himself, he usually sends a courier over who reads on the scroll in an obnoxious loud tone. Kicking a rock and looking up ahead past the trees, I can see the door to Arcelia’s shop door wide open, with what looks like not intention of being closed.
“Huh, that’s not weird at all,” I mutter to myself “Why hasn’t Aunt Arcelia said something?” knowing that with all the food my adoptive aunt sells, she makes it a rule to always have the door shut if no one is coming in or out.  
Jogging up, the sounds of yelling get louder until it was apparent who was making the ruckus. Mathew Roswell, the head knight’s son, and the nephew of the King. Mathew has a reputation of being a spoilt brat to any townspeople who didn’t work under his family, and my family definitely was not exempt. Growing up, I had fought him and his friends way too many times to count- and apparently getting older isn’t going to change the matter.
Walking in through the door, stepping over the clutter of items that looked to be thrown on the ground, a loud slap echos throughout the room, and Arcelia’s head snaps to the side with a red print. I didn’t take much time to think about what to do. Rushing over to big brute, I threw a punch at his jaw, making him stumble down enough for me to continue throwing punches. It wasn’t until one of Arcelia’s frequent customers pulled me off of him that I realized what I had just done. As Mathew and some other kids who were training to be in the Knight’s Guild were running out, Mathew gave me a dirty look and I just knew his father was going to be told. In all honesty, I could’ve been hung for touching that spoilt boy, but for some reason his father usually finds humor in it.
Snapping out of thought, I walk over to my adoptive Aunt to make sure she’s fine.
“Yes I’m fine. Adrian, you really shouldn’t defend me like that. The last thing me or your father need is for you to get yourself killed for messing with the head Knight’s son.” Noticing throngs of people walk by she huffs and says “You are cleaning this mess when we get back, but for now let’s go so we don’t miss whatever news if being brought upon us.”
As we walk through the crowds, I noticed that the Gallows was reassembled in the off center of the town square, right beside the big tree that sits center of the square. It seemed like that was the stage for whoever was giving the announcement. Just as aunt Arcelia and I stop, whispers erupted in the crowd like a wildfire. The King’s court actually came to the town square. With the King’s Head Knight and brother, Kitt Roswell, walking up the stairs to go to the left side of the “stage”, he looks over the crowd with a blank face. Soon enough King Roswell himself walks to the middle of the stage and the whispers die off immediately.
“Good afternoon citizens. This is a brief get together, but one that will aid our island in many ways, so listen. It is an obvious observation to see that as a community, we are not doing well. We have lack of needed supplies and we need some way to get them. Looking upon other island villages, it is clear of what we need to do. Looking at the actions of our neighboring island village, Sternist, we need to make a big sacrifice. Any women who have made it to their matured woman hood are unmarried and do not have needed jobs, need to say goodbye to their families, if they have any, and turn themselves in for the greater good of our people.” The King pauses as gasps fill the air “I know, it is unfortunate, but a lot of people will sell much gold and supplies for women. Thankfully, I am King, and I do think of the greater good of our people, even in these hard times. Knights will be going door to door to collect those who are eligible. Think of it as serving your King. That is all.” And with that, King Roswell and his followers lead back to the Castle.
In the following weeks, there was a big absence of women that were usually in my daily life. The single woman named Mira, who usually blushed as she bought bread from me, would no longer show up. Quite a few mothers left, leaving behind their husbands and children. Even a girl as young as twelve years old met the requirements- and since her parents tried to hide her, they were met with the Gallows as the girl was shipped away. There was a solemn silence in the village after that day.
It wasn’t any easier on Dorian and the crew of ‘The J.R.’. Many men were imprisoned for not following orders of the King. Even more of them died as “traitors” for being against the trading of women. Or even not wanting to take women on board for the fear of their ship sinking. Somehow, even with their friends and acquaintances disappearing, their crew never had to take women. Some people think it’s because the King secretly respects Eden, but I know it’s because Eden and his crew has been the main source of fish coming in lately.
I thought I would’ve been left out of the crossfire of any of this, until Dorian told me that I no longer worked for Arcelia, but I would be working for Eden on the boat instead.
"Why didn't you fuckin' listen to me kid, that's all I ever ask of you, and you don’t do it the one fuckin' time I specifically ask you to," Dorian exclaims, slamming the door open to bounce against the wall " One thing is all I asked for and now I have to find a way to clean up your act"
I back from the pot of stew that was cooking for tonight's dinner, hooking the ladle on a rack, before turning to fully face the enraged- possibly drunken man.
"What are you talkin' about Dorian? I haven't done anything wrong, and we both know it. I've been doing what I always do, and I've been bringing in more coin, just like you asked," I retort, "Whatever your problem is, it can wait until later. Foods almost done; we can talk then."
He steps close, hands flying up to his grayed hair in disbelief "Talk later? Lass. Adrie, we will be lucky if we have the time for dinner at this point. From what Ms. Ophelia was talking, you caused quite the disturbance with Matthew, again. So much that there are whispers about how his father wants you in the Knight's Guild, Adrie. The fuckin' Knight's Guild! You just had to go and fight the damn boy didn't ya?" Each time he says my name, his pitch gets higher, and every word is more venomous than the next.
Thinking back to the past few weeks, when Dorian first gave me my warning, it dawns on me. The first thing I had done after talking to him was get in a fight with Matthew. I thought it would've been ignored- especially since I wasn't in the wrong. I guess I was proven wrong.
Looking Dorian in the eyes, my face pales as I attempt to explain myself.
"I wasn't tryin' to cause trouble, you could've asked Arcelia too! The bastard slapped her, and I wasn't going to let him get away with it. I was damn near the only one who could. Anyone else was too scared to, and I've done it before without getting in any trouble. It's not my fault I know how to fight, and he doesn't," I cry out. "It's too bad kid. You might be able to act and dress like a lad without people getting suspicious of you, but you need to remember how easy it is to be revealed you aren't one," the older man says, while looking down, before grabbing a sack to fill with water canteens and extra food we have in the small kitchen area," Yes, you can fight, but you wouldn't last a week in that Guild The first few months alone are learning how to be a team with one another. That means spending every single day with multiple men just to sleep, shower, fight, and live. Hell, you'd be found just by a quick bad and body check, and we both know it," he gravely retorts before tossing me two burlap sacks," Now gather all your belongings. Thankfully, I was with Captain Eden at the tavern, and he offered to let you come with us to the trip to Zetharl. We are supposed to be doing some trading there, and there's quite a few safe houses there that you can stay at, until Arcelia and I can escape as well. Captain does not know about you and we are keeping it that way. He may be kind, but he's still an old pirate who still holds a lot of those olden beliefs. He has a strict rule about women being on his ship. So, it'd do you good to be on your best behavior and not raise any suspicions. If you do, I'll throw you off the damn ship myself, you hear me?"," Yes, I understand," I reply, defeated, and turn to make my way to my room to collect my items.
Taking a final look around my room, I let my hand drop down to brush against the scratchy blanket on my cot. It feels strange that I'll be leaving the only place I've ever known. The only people I've only known. I had always had a slight feeling that I would leave this place someday, I just never expected it to come so abruptly.
With a sigh, I hike my two bags up over my shoulder, and walk through the small cottage one last time, and stopped in front of the gate where Dorian was with a big barrel resting inside a wheelbarrow.
"Get in kid,"," The…barrel?" I ask, cocking my head to the side. "Yes the barrel. Hurry. The guards have already been on the lookout for you. I don't know why they haven't checked here yet, but I'm sure they're on their way. Hurry up into the damn thing so we can get you on that ship unnoticed,". Resting my hands on the sides of the opened object, I hike myself into it, thankful that it's big enough for me to fold my knees to my chest. Putting the light bags inside with me, Dorian places the top back on, leaving me encased in complete darkness. With a huff- the older man straightens the wheelbarrow up, and starts walking us on the dirt path.
As we continued on, I found myself hoping that I wouldn't get this same feeling on a ship- the rocking motion making my stomach feel queasy, and almost grateful that I hadn't ate since lunch.  Hearing a shout in the distance, I stiffen up, and press my ear against the wooden barrel in an attempt to hear who it was.
"Sir, under orders of the Head Knight Kitt Roswell, we need your boy to come with us now. Your son finally has a chance to bring some honor and glory to your family," a hidden gruff voice demands "My boy? Ah shit, Adrian? He's out in the forest picking herbs to sell this week. You see, I have a job to do tomorrow with captain Eden," My father figure pauses, before letting out a cough," I'm trying to get my stuff over to the ship now since we're leaving tonight, per Captain's request,".
Stifling a chuckle by biting my hand, I quickly thank the gods that these guards are idiots, as the main talking guard tells two of his guards to push the wheelbarrow for Dorian, while he and the others go to find me. Traveling at a faster pace, I hear the guards towing me try to make conversation with Dorian- which gets caught off as my world gets tilted to the side briefly.
"You fishermen really need this much shi- items on your journey?" One of the guards huff, clearly out of breath," Yes, we do. Pick the barrel up and place it over with the other, and take the wheelbarrow back to mainland- we're leaving now, and you two imbeciles need to get off my ship," A new commanding voice demands.  Captain Eden. Inside my barrel, I curl up slightly as I feel myself being moved- and unceremoniously dropped with a thud that makes my ears ring.
I stay hidden in my barrel until I hear commotion, men yelling all around my barrel, with footsteps rushing all around me. Moments later, I see the moonlight creep into my barrel- the top lid being pulled off, before seeing a roughed hand pull the bags out, and then eventually catching onto my shoulder to pull me up. Standing up with my eyes squinted from the sudden light, I see it's Dorian who has a hold of me, with Captain Eden standing a few feet away.
"It's good to see you, lad, it's been a while," The captain greets me before continuing, " I hope you don't get seasick, because you'll be on this ship a while- and you're definitely going to learn how to help out around here!"
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vinization · 4 years ago
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Blueswap fic, Chapter 1
I’m not doing anything with my account, so I might as well start posting chapters of my AO3 Blueswap fanfic here. Some characters’ behaviors/lines may be a little OOC in the early chapters, since I didn’t do as much “homework” (research) as I was supposed to.
AO3 Link
Chapter Name: A Wonderful Discovery
Summary: (blue) Pearl takes Steven on a relaxing trip.
Honestly, Steven wasn't really excited to go on a trip, especially somewhere so far away from his home in Seoul, Korea. Though he was just ten years old, and looked even younger thanks to his chubby cheeks, fluffy hair and overall stout build, which gave him quite an adorable appearance, especially when combined with his big, brown eyes, he already knew that he was very different from ordinary people.
Even if he didn't have a giant blue rock embedded in the place where his heart was supposed to be, something that he inherited from his late mother, Blue Diamond, the fact that the closest thing that he had to a mother figure was Pearl, a blue skinned, blue haired and almost impossibly thin woman who also had a gem, this one being located right in the middle of her collarbone.
No matter how casual her clothes were and relaxed her overall demeanor was, they both attracted many weird and sometimes straight up ugly looks whenever they were walking along the Korean capital's crowded streets. The closest thing he had to something normal in his life was his beloved dad Greg, a retired singer and composer who owned a music shop in one of Seoul's busiest streets and, despite making a lot of money out of said business, was still very humble and never afraid to help his son whenever he needed anything.
Because of this, he was straight up terrified to go to some random little town when Greg suggested Pearl that they needed to go to a quiet, pleasant place where they could just relax for a while, and said that this "Beach City" was a good example, since it was a place that he already knew. How would the people there react when they saw Steven with his "mom"? The fact that this was a small town made him more nervous, since he could at least hide in the middle of a crowd. At the same time, however, he was still a young child, and was just as curious as anyone his age could be.
Maybe this trip wouldn't be such a bad experience after all. He only wished Greg could come along, but he said that he had to deal with something about the shop, a little thing involving the word "bureaucracy" which he didn't understand perfectly just yet.
Hmph. Humans and their mannerisms. Wait, he was thinking like that again. Nevermind.
The trip was surprisingly short, taking only a few minutes despite the fact that the destination was located on the other side of the planet. This was, according to Pearl, because of the extensive warp pad network that existed on the Earth, with many points everywhere allowing for great distances to be covered in a matter of minutes or even seconds.
All the boy and his surrogate mother had to do was access the pad that existed near the outskirts of Seoul, and bam. They had arrived in Beach City, and just in time to enjoy the sunset, too! As the blue-themed duo left the pad they were on (which was located inside an awesome multi-armed statue) and walked into the "city", which couldn't have more than a couple thousand inhabitants, from the beach, all the while feeling the cold breeze that came from the sea, Steven's shyness had been replaced by childish curiosity, especially after he noticed that the citizens barely paid attention to either him or Pearl.
By the time they saw the boardwalk and its many shops, he was very excited and happy to have come here, despite all of his previous reservations.
There was only one problem, unfortunately, and it was one that was entirely his own fault: Steven couldn't read any of the signs. How could he, when he was used to an entirely different alphabet? The boy internally reprimanded himself for not paying enough attention to any of Pearl's English lessons. At least he knew the spoken language well enough, thanks to his dad, so he wouldn't be completely lost, but even then, it made the whole "adventure" a lot more boring.
As Steven and Pearl approached a nearby pizzeria with the words "Fish Stew Pizza" written on a sign (not that he could understand any of them), however, he noticed something, or rather someone, very unusual looking just standing on the far end of the boardwalk, probably enjoying the beautiful sight that was the Sun setting on the shining waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
Interested on taking a closer look, he told his quasi-mom that he was just going to walk around for a bit (while she entered the pizza place and made an order), an idea that Pearl almost refused before thinking again. There wasn't anything unusual here, or so she thought, and Steven wasn't just going to walk off with some random stranger, so why not give him a little freedom while she ordered one of his favorite foods? The fact he wanted to walk around on his own instead of just standing by her side as he always did was actually a great sign, when she thought about it.
Free to explore Beach City without Pearl's supervision for a few minutes, Steven immediately set taking a better look at the strange, who he realized was a woman, without her noticing him. As he snuck closer and closer, he realized that "strange" was quite an understatement. First, the woman was truly massive, standing almost three meters tall, and she wore a plain white dress that seemed to have a few overlapping layers of fabric. Secondly, her long, silky and pink hair was an impressive sight, and that was without counting the immense curls that dominated it, some of which looked more like cannons. Steven wondered how many different hair products she used to make sure it stayed like this for a long time.
He wouldn't have time to ponder, however, since the stranger finally noticed her little admirer when he was standing right next to her, and it seemed that she was just as curious about this situation as Steven was, since she turned around to take a better look at the little boy, giving him a kind smile in the process. It was then that Steven noticed something about the giant woman that completely wiped away any reservations he had about going to Beach City: she had a large, pink gem in what should have been her navel, surrounded by a star that looked exactly like the one on his navy blue shirt.
Starry eyed and momentarily paralyzed by joy, he could only say one thing to the stranger:
"You even have a little star, just like me!"
Shortly after muttering these words, he turned around and happily ran back to the pizzeria as if he had just seen a celebrity in person.
Pearl had to see this!
Steven didn't realize that the woman was following him, nor that she was almost floating along the ground rather than truly walking, which explained why he didn't hear her coming after him, despite the fact that she was less than a meter away. Something about what he said just seemed off to her: maybe it was just her paranoia acting up, but why didn't he talk about her hair, or even her height? Why did he talk about what was probably one of her least notable features? And most importantly, what did "just like me" mean?
Her questions were soon answered when Steven entered the pizzeria and almost metaphorically dragged Pearl out of it, that's how excited he was. The quasi-mom and her little baby almost immediately noticed her, and there was no time to hide now.
Once Pearl set her eyes on the stranger (despite the long fringe that hid her eyes) she completely froze, refusing to believe what she was seeing.
For Stars' sake, she just wanted to take her adorable little "son" to a pleasant trip on a little town that Greg knew from memory!
She didn't want to face Rose Quartz, the gem who she despised the most, in person! What was she supposed to do now?!
Pearl couldn't know it, but Rose was asking herself that exact same question.
Still frozen and unaware of what to do, the blue gem could only mutter a word:
"R-Rose?"
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tarithenurse · 5 years ago
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The good Villain - 1
Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually) Content for series: Murder, crime, violence, angst, lots of gore, sadness, trauma, innuendos, sexual themes (maybe even detailed - we’ll see), political undertones (not a lot), Avengers, Guardians, Captains, Asgardians (of sorts), loneliness, desperation, humour (attempts, at least), friends in unlikely places.  A/N: Based on the prompt “You’re the villain and you know that you just want the ‘good guys’ to understand why”. Let’s just say that a loooot will happen, but I hope to keep it relatively short. ​
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…   Reader   …
The translation is delayed by a second, but long enough for the Terran to scrunch her eyebrows in concern. “On a scale from zero to ten, where ten is the worst imaginable…how bad is the pain?”
Right now, you can remember a lot of different injuries and neither they nor the current one are anywhere close to real agony. That kind of pain, the kind that takes over your body in a rush until there is nothing else, they are rarely physical in origin unlike the thumping ache in your arm.
“Three,” you answer, bending to study the odd angle of the limb, “can you heal it?”
She seems puzzled by the question even as she makes note on a chart before ripping off the paper and sends you on the way with it to something, she calls an “Ex Ray”. What is it now if not a ray? Deciding not to worry about that for now, you follow the line on the floor she has told you to follow.
…   Loki   …
The conference room is eerily silent as each Avenger studies the files Carol Danvers has sent. Now and then someone sighs, or Romanova whistles softly as a way to express that she (for once) is impressed – although not in a positive way. Everyone on the team has seen their share of horrors, created at the hands of criminals and maniacs alike. Very, very rarely have they gotten close to something of this level of cruelty.
“Don’t….don’t check out ‘ny o’the appendixes,” Stark croaks with a shudder.
Mortals, Loki rolls his eyes, always so weak. Scrolling rapidly through the data, he reaches the part they have been warned about. Images, perfectly sharp and with small descriptive texts and arrows to help the person studying the information in case it proves difficult to identify what is what. His stomach churns, bubbling threateningly until he can taste the sour tang in the back of his mouth. By the ancients.
“Carol thinks it…she…the killer’s here?” The normally brave Wilson appears ashen as he closes the device.
“Yeah, hopping from planet to planet…” Rogers pauses briefly before completing the sentence, “killing and burning children and anyone who gets in the way…”
Not even I committed such atrocities. It is of little comfort, of course, for the Asgardian to have found someone more hated than himself. Still, he cannot help but wonder what demented reasoning is causing the Betan to inflict such madness, although he is loathing to grant her evil ways the benefit of the doubt.
“Why kids and why those kids?”
There is no answer for Barnes’ question, though, so it is added to the list of information they need to obtain while hunting down the villainous female.
 …   Reader   …
Considering the primitive methods of healing (well, anything), it seems improbable to you that Terrans have managed to not just survive but thrive for as long as they have. The healers have done the best they could after you refused surgery. Now your arm has been set, fixed, and wrapped in in a clumsy cast that will prove an additional challenge in and of itself – however, you are already plotting how to improve the situation with a few upgrades of your own.
As you navigate the crowded streets of the city, you keep an eye out for the reason you are here: Leeches. Soul Leeches, to be exact. Once a respectable commander of the Rescue Forces of Sirius Beta, your first encounter with the invasive species had almost wiped out your entire crew because their manner of proliferating is…sneaky. Even now, the terror-fueled respect has your skin crawling as shadows turn into monsters dressed up as innocent charades.
And here? Oh, this is a playground for the Leeches. Adults and younglings mingling closely, all with empty eyes glued to little screens or their ears filled by sound-emitting devices. Hermits drifting in a sea of people. Not that you are overly sociable yourself, but unfortunately that type of numb behaviour makes it a lot harder to identify the victims, the Leeches, and those untouched.
First things first, though. You need a place to crash and reconsider your course of action. The planet holds other dangers, such as the non-automated vehicle. What other planets still use manual transportation devices? It’s ridiculous!
 …   Loki   …
Despite the black umbrella, Loki’s trouser-legs are drenched. The rain is carpet bombing the asphalt, bouncing back up with the dirt and grime of the busy city. Still, the only way the horrible weather affects the hustle and bustle of the citizens is merely by making them marginally grumpier, their own umbrellas becoming improvised weapons if someone moves too slowly through the downpour. No one pays attention to the God of Mischief and Chaos as he stands by the mouth of the alley.
Blind fools. As opposed to his brother who has come to adore the Midgardians, Loki rarely considers them anything but dimwitted bordering on useless. It is no wonder, then, that they are continuing through their life without paying attention to the danger lurker among them.
Since Danvers brought the case to the Avengers, newly including him, the Betan has been working quite efficiently. She has struck at random, already killing four children and most of their families. In one instance the infant brother had been spared – left outside the neighbour’s door as though the murderer suddenly had grown a conscience. Impossible. Sympathy and conscience is lost, worn away by the callous acts rather than the other way around. But what could explain why the baby was spared, then?
“Get outta ‘ere!”
The angry voice makes the slender man turn to find the origin, spotting a small grocer yelling at someone. Fist raised, a broom grabbed hard in the other hand, he appears to be more of a threat than his victim is willing to take on although instincts clash for an instant – wanting to escape attention while simultaneously unwilling to risk the wrath of the weather (a task that seems paradoxical with the sea-coloured hair).
Tilting the umbrella slightly, it is possible to observe the dash from one inadequate shelter to the other. She. Few males on this planet move as this person does especially when encumbered with a cast on one arm and a heavy laden grocer’s bag on the other. Just as the woman reaches the corner at the opposite end of the intersection, her stride falters as if controlled by an outside force and her body turns. As if in slow motion, inhumanely black eyes lock onto the small shape of a child who is following closely behind the parents and the mouth twitches to avoid contorting into a sneer…but the next second the woman slips around the corner while the oblivious family continues.
Coincidences do happen, just like accidents do. Sometimes. Thriving on chaos, however, means that Loki is intimately aware of how rare true randomness is.
The sleek phone presses softly against his ear, and he finds himself to be holding the breath until the dialing tone is broken.
“What’s up, reindeer games?”
“I believe I’ve seen our killer.”
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softfairies · 6 years ago
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HPHM Character Profile
@changeling-fae and @sirfluffig thank you both for tagging me!!! ♥
General Information.
Name: Ana Mercedes Díaz.
Age: 16.
Gender: Female.
Nicknames: Anita (by her father), Little Butterfly (by her mother), Pip (,,, by Jacob??).
Date of Birth: March 21st.
Astrological/Zodiac Sign: Aries.
Ethnicity: White and Latino.
Nationality: Venezuelan.
Species: Human.
Blood Type: O-
Blood Status: Half-Blood.
Family:
Father - Luciano Enrique Díaz.
Half-Blood (mother muggle and father wizard)/ Born in Venezuela but moved to Glasgow when he was 11/ Attended Hogwarts and was chosen in Ravenclaw/ He works as a Metal-Charmer/ He absolutely loves his family and is proud of his children. However after Raquel died, he has being suffering a breakdown all days without miss but he understood that he had to be the best parent he could since he still had his little children to care of. But when Jacob disappeared, he lost it. There wasn’t a day he wouldn’t watch the window waiting for his eldest kid to return and even if he tried his best, the pain bested him. Now he is in a coma and Ana doesn’t know if he’ll wake up.
Mother - Raquel Ayton.
Muggle-born/ Born in Glasgow however her maternal grandparents were born in Chile/ She attended Hogwarts and was sorted into Hufflepuff/ He worked as an Arithmancer and also had the eye for Divination. That’s how she saw her death and the upsetting future that was awaiting her younger daughter. She was very close to Jacob and she was the one who taught him how to play the violin and showed Ana the world of creatures, the one which she loves. She died months before Jacob could start school because of a disease no one understood.
Brother - Jacob Iván Díaz.
Half-Blood/ He was born in the 4 of October 1968/ Was sorted into Ravenclaw just like his father and afterwards, like his little sister/ Jacob was very close to his mother, she was the one who taught him how to play the violin. When she died, he was broken but that made him want to protect Ana even more. That’s why he never told her about the Cursed Vaults. It was so she could gorw happily and far from the danger these would create. He loves Ana a lot and would do anything for her even if it meant lying to her.
Affiliation(s)/Organization(s):
Ravenclaw
Volunteer in the Magical Creatures Reserve
Occupation(s): Future Magizoologist.
Magical Characteristics.
Form of Boggart: Isolation.
Form of Patronus: Silver-Studded Blue Butterfly.
Form of Riddikulus: ? (she still can’t get over her fear).
What do they see in the Mirror of Erised?: Her whole family together, being happy.
Wand(s):
Length: 10 3/4″
Flexibility: Quite bendy flexibility
Wood: Larch Wood
Core: Unicorn hair
Description: It’s of a warm brown color with floral carving and some bronze details.
Animagus: 
Ocelot.
Amortentia: 
What she smells: Baked cookies, lavender and scented paint (She once saw how Badeea created it).
What she smells to others: Strawberries, the forest, hot chocolate.
Appearance.
Height: 5′2″
Weight: 108 lbs
Complexion (skin tone/conditions): 
Tanned and freckled skin. It’s actually very soft? She doesn’t know how tbh.
Hair Color/Style: 
Medium brown hair, kind of wavy but pulling more towards curly when it’s longer. She had it very short since she was very little but in the middle of her fifth year she decided to let it grow, making it more curly.
Eye Color:
Bluish-grey.
When she was younger it was brighter but as she grew it started getting duller. 
Hogwarts Information.
Worst Class(es):
Potions; like oml she tries not to fail but wtf is being cautious and how much was it of salamander eyes???
Herbology; hey, she likes plants and she knows the ones that could be related with magical creatures but she doesn’t understand the that much. She needs to interact with others and even if plants interact with her in special ways, she isn’t that much interested.
DADA; okay she hates duelling and is bad at it no matter how much she practices since she isn’t the most agile person in there and she doesn’t react very quickly.
Flying; she sucks and can’t be balanced in her broom. There were many accidents that involved falling from terryfying heights so yeah, she tries not to fly in a broom.
Best Class(es):
COMC; she loves magical creatures, she does since she was a baby, surrounded by the ones in her house. She loves understanding them, caring for them and befriending them. She prides herself of defending their rights and helping them.
History of Magic; even if this is a class that many find absolutely boring, she finds it rather interesting. She really likes learning facts from the past since well, she loves hearing stories. Maybe she isn’t a big Binns fan, but she really likes his class.
Charms; I mean??? She loves learning magic and the way that Flitwick teaches is just so wonderful for Ana?? She is always excited to learn new movements, incantations, she is just like a little kid in a candy store.
Least Favorite Teacher(s):
Snape; she despises that man with her whole heart. She doesn’t see a good side in him and everytime that he is rude towards her she just wants to scream because why? Whu does he has to be such an asshole. If something in his personal life sucks he shouldn’t explode against the students, that’s literally so unprofessional of him. And finally, if he hates kids so much, then why the hell become a teacher?
Rakepick; ana never liked manipulative people since she is very amenable herself. And she knows how that woman uses her power in words to contol people around her. That’s why she never trusted her and never will.
Favorite Teacher(s):
Flitwick; again, ana loves his way of teaching and his cheerful personality. She admires him a lot and she feels so grateful that he is the head of her house. His advice is always so helpful and is always stuck in her head and she appreciates that.
Kettleburn; ana loves his personality and his love for creatures. She always has a good time at his classes and is never dissapointed. She likes his challenges and how passionate he is about his job.
McGonagall; ana respects the woman in a very high level. She admires her as a professor and as a person. The way she cares for the students and how much respect she radiates.
Quidditch:
Ana doesn’t like it at all.
She had way too many accidents with brooms and bludgers that the term Quidditch just send shivers down her spine.
However, she is always there to cheer Andre and Charlie. But she is always prepared for anything.
Favourite Spell(s):
Accio
Avifors
Ebublio
Protego
Trivia.
(random facts about them, future job, face claim, theme song, etc.):
She is scared of electric storms or even normal storms since there was an accident in her house years ago and she lost everything that belonged to her mother.
Her aunt Mercedes, sister of her mother, died when she was only 14 because of death eaters. That’s why Ana hates them. They took someone from her family and she could never meet her aunt.
She learnt how to cook when she was only 10 because her father wan’t always home to cook for her and neither Jacob.
She sleeps very little because of the nightmares and because of that, she spends her night watching the starts or petting her pets.
She doesn’t like sea food and actually can’t swim so she is kind of wary when she is near water,,, but not in the shower asdfgh
In the future she will be a Magizoologist.
Her theme song would be Happy by Marina.
I still don’t have a faceclaim for her !
Tagging: @heleneplays @jadeowl19 @cinnamonriko @helgship @scribbleries @whitecadiz @margaretthehuman @eluzivedreamer @nomnan
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lostinfic · 6 years ago
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5. New York, Fall
Summary: Travel writer/photojournalist AU, slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff and adventures around the world.
Pairing: Alec Hardy x Hannah Baxter Rating: Mature Word count: 1.6k
Prologue  |  Chap. 1  |  2  |  3  |  4  | Ao3  
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Hannah was too fond of clothing and accessories to be a minimalist packer. She kept her wardrobe well organized, divided by climates and types of activities, but used creativity to select the right clothes. It was an art. One that began with a theme, a story she wanted her pictures to tell. (She’d once packed only retro-inspired clothes for a long weekend in Paris during which she visited movie-famous locations.) And since, on a cruise, hauling a heavy suitcase around wasn’t an issue, she may have gone a little overboard (pun intended) with the nautical theme: white and navy stripes, tiny anchors, big anchors, sailor collars, mermaids...
“I have nothing to wear,” she whined, dumping half her suitcase on the floor of her cabin.
The ship would dock in Manhattan soon, and she still hadn’t found the perfect outfit to go to Hardy’s photography exhibition. Something that looked irresistible yet like she hadn’t made an effort at all. Not like she worked in a theme park.
The whole thing was ridiculous anyway. Her contract with the cruise line gave her a choice among four destinations and ten dates— she could have gone to Alaska!— but she’d chosen a place she’d already visited on somewhat inconvenient dates in October, just on the off chance she might run into him. He didn’t even know she was going to be there. She couldn’t decide whether to tell him. Whether she wanted to see him again. She didn’t usually keep in touch with people she met abroad. The moments they shared were perfect as they were. Meeting again just wouldn’t be the same. Why ruin a perfectly good memory?
But Alec…
She’d said before she wanted a man who would challenge her, but parachuting or strange foods was what she had in mind, not ethical dilemmas.
At least she had a fantastic leather jacket.
The World Press Photo event took place in Brooklyn whereas the ship docked on the west side of Manhattan. It didn’t look that far on the map but, once again, she’d underestimated distances in America. Google Maps informed her it was an hour-long public transport journey to the building where the conference took place. They docked at 10am, and she had to be back on board by 4pm. What kind of cruise stays only six hours in New York but stays overnight in Nova Scotia?
She was familiar with the subway from previous visits, and seamlessly joined the crowd on the platform. She wore her headphones even if her music barely pierced the metal grinding of the old subway cars. She tapped her feet, at first to the beat of Lana Del Rey, but then out of nervousness. What would she even say to him? Oh, hi, funny meeting you here.
By the time she walked out of the subway station, her skin was clammy and smelled of rust and other people’s sweat. An autumnal breeze refreshed her and chased dead leaves around her feet.
She washed her hands and face, sprayed some perfume on her neck and shook her hair for volume. With a sigh, she blew a strand off her face.
Beside the door, a banner announced: “Alec Hardy, a retrospective”. A black and white portrait of him, with a hand tugging back his hair and an annoyed look on his face, told visitors he didn’t appreciate having the viewfinder turned on him. The lights and shadows in the picture revealed his physical flaws: the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, freckles on his cheeks and nose, even some greying hair at his temples and in his beard. She only ever used black and white to hide a too-red face or unflattering light. He didn’t hide anything, and the photo was stunning.
She read the short biography next to it. Forty-two years old, ten years older than her. She filed the information away. Everything else she knew from looking him up already.
In the high-ceilinged, white room, his photographs, in various sizes, lined the walls and hung from the ceiling to create corridors.
Hannah scanned the crowd of art students, photography enthusiasts and other conference attendees with lanyards around their necks. She didn’t see him, and couldn’t tell which of relief or disappointment swelled in her chest.
The exhibition began with Alec’s early work on the streets of Glasgow in the 90s: poverty, union strikes, and the punk scene. Domestic moments caught through dusty windows, spike-haired lovers in a park, and children playing among burning rubbish bins. She smiled at a self-portrait, his reflection in a broken mirror, an old Leica covered half his face, wire-frame glasses and smoke from a hand-rolled cigarette covered the other half.
Political protests and revolts followed. From Ireland to South Africa. He’d been right in the eye of it, among the armed men, the bleeding noses and mouths shouting for justice. In the rage and lust.
Hannah walked from one to the other, heart beating fast as if watching an action movie. How many times had he been threatened? Held at gunpoint? Kicked and punched? He really made a habit of putting himself in danger’s way. His recklessness scared her, in a good way.
His later work shifted away from the action towards the devastation left in their wake. Destroyed villages, grieving families, scarred men, empty-eyed women. More children featured in his photos. She recognized Pulau Kesuma: a pile of discarded monogrammed hotel towels among flowers, new fishing gear left to rust, an old fisherman with the sea etched on his skin. With every picture, Hannah’s heart grew heavier. By the last photo, tears threatened to ruin her mascara. And yet, something in the way he showcased sunlight gave her hope.
Hannah rounded a corner and gasped: there was a photo of her. Taken at night, darkness hid her face, but she recognized her leg kicking an arch of bioluminescent plankton. She raised her cell phone to take a picture of it and share it on social media, but changed her mind. She looked at it closer. She wasn’t used to seeing herself through someone else’s camera. An image over which she had no control. A moment of unstaged spontaneity. She wasn’t used to feeling humbled. She watched other people’s reaction to it. They didn’t know what it meant.
The picture of her was part of a special section dedicated to his more artistic work. Random snapshots he’d never dedicated an entire series to before now. Breathtaking landscapes, powerful oceans, a colorful Indian wedding, elephants in Thailand, coal-smeared Congolese children smiling bright, several photos of a baby girl. Through his lens, even the streets of London became poetic. And she thought that pain and misery did not diminish the beauty of the world, if anything, the fact that people endured and kept laughing and creating, was all the more wondrous because of it.
She went around the room a second time, always on the lookout for Hardy. She did a double-take at every brown-haired or bearded man, only to be disappointed. Before she knew it, she’d spent more time there than at the Louvre. She lingered in the building for as long as she could, visited the other exhibitions, but had to get back to the port soon. She decided to leave a message in the guest book, leaving it up to fate whether he would see it.
Outside the building, golden sunshine trickled between fiery leaves and alighted every raindrop falling across its beams. Umbrellas bloomed and children laughed, and Hannah was keenly aware that each person around her had their own story, their own unique perspective on life.
Like light shining through a prism, daily life was dissolved into millions of shades by the people experiencing it.
Hannah walked two subway stations farther, fascinated by the city thrumming with life around her.
To capture that variety, she used to write in-depth articles about encounters with one person. She’d gradually abandoned those in favor of shorter pieces for the attention-deficient social media users, and marketing disguised as personal anecdotes. Perhaps she should do that again.
She smiled at the young latina woman walking her dog, but only received a wary look in return.
This strange hyper-awareness followed her on board the cruise ship, but morphed into introspection once alone in her cabin. Seeing Hardy’s journey made her consider her own.
When asked why she started traveling, she always told the same story. She, Ben and Erin formed an inseparable trio of best friends in secondary school. They dreamed of backpacking through Europe. Once in uni, they kept postponing their plans for all sorts of reasons. Unfortunately, Erin died abruptly during their second year. Realizing how short and unpredictable life is, Hannah had packed her bags and left England.
It was a nice story, but it wasn’t the whole truth. She never said how her friend died, that she left even before the funeral, that she stayed too long in Amsterdam to numb her guilt, that there was a reason she didn’t keep in touch with the people she met while traveling.
The rocking waves failed to lull her to sleep. She nearly called Hardy twice, but her longing scared her. Her emotions felt too close to the surface, too easy to bruise.
She wrote all night and deleted the file in the morning.
They docked in Boston next. She filled a travel mug with black coffee and headed off the boat with the firm intention of being her former, professional self. She hadn’t even posted on Instagram yesterday. It really was for the best that she hadn’t encountered Hardy. They had shared a moment in Asia and that was the end of it. She had to focus on rebuilding her reputation after what happened with Elite Travelers.
Outside the cruise terminal, where buses awaited passengers for day tours, the marketing liaison waved her over. Before she’d even said hi to him, someone else called her name.
“Baxter!”
Her heart melted.
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all-blue-headcanons · 6 years ago
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So, let me ask you about your OCs! I would love to know how many you have, their names, if you have any main one, the one you like/love most, with who you ship them and I you would like them to meet mine(lol). So throw me all the info you want to share. -Ai-
Oh fugg, you’ve only gone and done it now, Ai. Buckle up for the ride, kids, I’m about to bore you shitless with my lame ass OC’s… well, one of them anyway, but it’s less of an OC but probably more of a self-reflection as to what my story might be in One Piece? That’s right, I’m one of those disgusting self-inserts so feel free to hate on it since I already hate myself enough, lmao.
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A new challenger has appeared! Introducing… Passenger Khare! Her backstory is a bit of an odd one as she never used to have any great ambitions and would have been quite happy just living as a simple civilian somewhere in South Blue. Originally she came from North Blue and used to be friends with X Drake back when they were children since his father was still working with the Marines at the time. Thanks to Germa 66 and the ‘Conquest of Four Nations’ however, Khare’s homeland was devastated and she forced to flee alongside her mother. Her father was killed in the war against Vinsmoke Judge, so naturally Khare’s carried a bit of a grudge ever since.Her problems started when her identity was completely erased by a rogue Devil Fruit user. The ability of their fruit was supposed to be a concept on the idea of identity swapping, meaning that you could pin certain actions and events on somebody else. For example, you could make Luffy think Arlong was responsible for Ace’s death* and would adamantly believe it too until confronted by the truth. For some reason, this person either didn’t have the hang of their abilities or went completely over the top, effectively striking Khare out of history - her mother could look her own child in the face and refuse to believe it’s her. (Actually thinking back on it now, a better explanation would be to switch ‘events’ caused by one person to another? Essentially framing somebody for another’s crimes like Kuro wanted to do to some random dude)There are other problems with this issue too, in that Khare is very hard to notice or easily overlooked by most people. They quickly forget what she looks like as well, effectively becoming ‘faceless’ in their minds. The stronger one’s Haki is however, the more easily she’s noticed/remembered so when Khare fled home to look for the person responsible for stealing her name, it was difficult to say the least. She’d have to stow away on ships, moving from island to island in hopes of catching up or finding the person through tracking their bounty.About a year into this ‘drifter’ lifestyle, the ship that Khare was currently hiding on began to sank after a battle against the Marines - so she jumped off the side and swam to a distant island where there was little food and less water. Despite being unnoticable to most people, animals such as Sea Kings can notice her just fine, so swimming elsewhere wasn’t really an option. Her only options were to starve to death, risk being eaten or hope another ship came by.And there it was; a Devil Fruit sitting right there at the island’s oasis. It was a large and ugly blackish-grey fruit with reddish-pink ‘leaves’, but being so hungry, Khare ate it anyway and became a Fire Dragon Zoan.Leaving the island behind, Khare wanders the world of One Piece; an insignificant human whom most people ignore… and a dragon that is quite a bit harder to. With new abilities at her disposal, she doesn’t quite go on rampages; instead Khare spends most of her time flying between islands and checking out taverns for new bountries, picking up any pirates or marines that have been shipwrecked, stranded or otherwise left to die at sea. She used to be the unknown passenger and now operates as a ferry-service for those who in need, leaving them in safe places with a bag of gold to tide them over.Where does she get the gold from, you might ask? Well, even when you’re a dragon, sometimes you get bored of fending for yourself and need small things like the comforts of food you haven’t cooked yourself, a warm bed for the night and some good old human company. Raiding bandit strongholds and enclaves works out great in paying for more extravagent luxuries, and simply because like any good dragon out there, who the hell is going to stop you? Name: “Passenger” KhareTitle if a member of the Worst Generation: “Robber Baron”Age: Early thirties, ‘cursed’ about five years prior to the start of Luffy’s adventuresLoves: X Drake (childhood friends)Friends: Scratchmen Apoo, Urouge.Enemies: The entire Vinsmoke family. Will drop the grudge against Sanji when she realizes he’s actually a pretty nice guy despite his father. Favourite food: Shrimp Laksa, South Blue style.Least favourite food: Eggs (bad experience, shared dislike with X Drake)Interests: Aerophysics, warfare, scarves, thinking about getting revenge on Germa 66…Style: Pockets, pockets, pockets. Aviator goggles along with pilot-themed attire. Ugly ass eyeburner scarf. Did I mention pockets for stashing people and loot in? Traits: Androgynous as hell, people aren’t sure whether she’s a boy or a girl. Rugged, windswept hair, face often smudged with soot and smoke bc ashen breath. THICC shoulders and upper body due to all the flying causing small tiddies which she doesn’t like. Short-tall at 5′9, needs to stand on her tippy toes to nuzzle Drake’s chin.Personality/Quirks: Awkward, especially socially after being on her own for so long. Doesn’t believe Fish-Man Island exists and gets incredibly angry when people try to tell her it does. A little lecherous (towards both men and women) and rowdy when she’s had a few too many to drink and will definitely sing rude songs. Sung this song to Apoo once when drunk and somehow he remembers it, never letting her live it down. Hates it whenever he brings the topic up. Feels the cold easily. BAD LANDER.Random fact: Was asked to be Lola’s husband once. Khare genuinely told her the truth in that she was actually a woman and thus wouldn’t make a good husband, but would totally have said yes were she a man. Lola was surprisingly good-natured about it anyway, but felt sad when she couldn’t quite remember Khare’s face after parting ways.
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Enjoy bad art of the passenger dragon that ‘carries a mountain of gold’ on it’s back.Other OC’s I’m still creating, but I have one going about a bored, sociopathic Celestial Dragon that left the Holy Land voluntarily because he was so tired of living an easy life of luxurious and wanted excitement. He’s nothing special, he’s just some bored rich kid who does obnoxious things like starting wars between nations for the hell of it. Surprisingly he’s pretty honorable about his ‘bargains’ if they are completed successfully; these ‘requests’ however, while seeming innocent, are actually death traps he’s arranging for his victims (aka please go and steal me this hat. Which hat, you ask? Why, Straw Hat Luffy’s of course! And I’ll give you ten million berries for it!)
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magicalgirlfumiko · 5 years ago
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Just feel like posting one of my short stories set in this blog’s world. 
The Dwindling Flowers chronicles the lives of several young mages that work for the Organisation (The Original Agency). They are magical soldiers called the Flowers to trained to fight evil born from curses of mankind. These people no longer exist to the world. Their memories are wiped clean and their family never knew they ever existed. These mages live solely to protect the balance of the worlds. Why they were chosen to become Flowers, is for the Organisation‘s ears only. The difference between our world and the world of Dwindling Flowers' Organization primarily comes from magic. As such, the 'timeline,' as it were, has diverged in several places. For starters, Nikola Tesla was a celebrated mage scientist until his death in 1945 of natural causes in the Great Magickal War of 1914-1953. His wireless telegraphy system expanded into cordless and cellular phones by 1960, though it was deadened by 1969 after consumers lost confidence in American industry. This brings us to the present day. The Cold War instead ended in 1998 with the dissolution of the Soviet Union, after which they lost a special little magical super soldier to the Organisation. The cellphone industry boomed as well. And Provere, France? Well, things are getting a little strange.
Provere City, France 04:50 A.M. 21 Nov. 2013
Judith pushed her hat down over her eyes. The men and women of the Provere police force all knew her, but she was still trying to at least be a little inconspicuous. She walked over the Jeanne d'Arc bridge with purpose, though, as the latest victim of the 'Morpheus' murders still hung below. Her report was that he was hung by a rope of braided human hair.
The victim himself, one Ansolom Broussard, was a simple taxi driver from the eastern district. The slums. He was a heavy-set man, with a family to feed. Someone was going to have to tell them. It wasn't Judith though. She just wanted the details, like the answer why to the fact that his cab was found three miles away abandoned, the ticket still marked. It was warm but dark and humid. A light rain coming down, as typically happened on the nights of these murders. She watched the cops pull the body up, and watched as the coroner and the R.I.S. closed up the scene and sampled the follicles from the noose. The only reason they could tell it was hair in the first place was that whoever did this left some at the top of the bridge. As the R.I.S. worked on the hair samples, she was busy taking pictures of the body. The first picture was the face and neck, showing lacerations and bruising from the noose, as well as an obvious change of angle in the windpipe. Next was the torso, which showed almost no damage except perhaps where it hit the abutment below. A close-up of each hand seemed to show no resistance. Curious. Hardly any scuffing on his shoes either. She went about her business and took pictures of the noose after the R.I.S.had finished sampling. “Thanks, Dion,” she said, smiling wanly. The rain picked up a little bit, a constant drizzle now. She turned to her phone, compiling the messages into a mass text. Constant; Camille; Piper CC: Crime Scene #6 Attached are seven pictures of the victim and the apparent murder weapon. It's definitely connected. Meet me on the Jeanne d'Arc in twenty minutes. That should give us enough time. -J Also, Constant – Leave Katyusha out of this. She didn't have time for petty politics, so she just nipped that in the bud.
"Oo ye yi!" Screamed a young woman with raven hair as her phone buzzed. 
Her name was Camille. She was a mage of Acadian ancestry that had been selected by the Organisation due to her efficiency with French Alchemist tomes and spells upon leaving Quebec to further her mage studies.
Camille had been drinking some warm coffee that just been brewed on the small stove top in her shared apartment with Constant. She nearly jumped out of her clothing when her phone's buzzer went off, causing her fumble around the cramped kitchen to reach for the device. Upon pulling the phone out, it appeared to be rather large and clunky. This technology was one of a newer type of fusion between modern science and magic. 
"Oh god...." She muttered. Her eyes looked drained as she began to study the photographs closely. She always had to deal with the pictures of corpses first since Constantina conventionally seemed to always misplace her phone.
"CONTAST!" Camille yelled as she walked out of the kitchen sideways just to get out of that room and into the shared main common area where both of their beds were.
"The boss w-wants us to be get ready for something...." She then tossed the phone at her partner. "Just look at those p-photos. They are some of the worst in recent memory!"
"S-She also said not to get your girlfriend involved." Camille said this to annoy Constant for not having her phone again.
Constantina, the Greek operative of the Organisation , blinked sleepily. She heard her Quebecian sidekick distantly yell her name. “conSTANT!”
:I told you to stop calling me that...” She thought in her haze. "The boss w-wants to be get ready for something....” 
“Huh? Yeah, she usually did.”. 
“Just look at those p-photos. They are some of the worst in recent memory..." Consti felt the phone hit her smack in the stomach, and she opened her eyes. Seriously. What now? Their cramped barrack room was stuffy with the odd heat.
Yawning, she sat up, phone still on her stomach. "S-She also said not to get your girlfriend involved." 
Damn it! Stop calling her that! “Shut up about Katyusha! She's not my girlfriend!” Of course, that got Constantina fired up. It always did. The absolute loathing she had for that woman... But in the end, didn't she want to be just like her? Eyes still half glazed with sleep, she picked up the phone and scrolled through the pictures. “Huh. This is bad. Not the worst I've ever seen, but pretty terrible.” 
She rolled out of bed, grabbing yesterday's gear to slip it back on. It wasn't dirty, she had only worn it for a meeting with Judith. Of course, she mimicked Katyusha's deadpan. It really wasn't THAT bad, and even though you never really get used to seeing a corpse, she had to seem strong for her partner.  After she got dressed, she stole a cup of Camille's coffee. She didn't even like the stuff, but she needed caffeine desperately. “Hey, Cami, can you help me find my phone?” She tripped over it the next moment. “Never mind...” Katyusha will not be involved. Ever. Thanks. She shot Judith a text.
Camille cocked an eyebrow at the half awake Constantina. "R-Really? With how much you complain about that Soviet, I would think you secretly harbor a deep caring for her." Once again she continued to egg Constant on. 
Camille understood why Constantina wished to be well respected like that Russian. Katyusha was a force to be reckoned with. Whenever Camille came across her, she kept her distance. "O-Okay, maybe they aren't the worst photographs ever." Camille sighed. "I just don't like always having to be the first ones that see them. You're the scout, I'm the backup...What happens if I am not there to do the research for you?" "Hey!!! My coffee..." Camille sighed. Once again, her small pot was swiped. It seemed that after this meeting, she would have to go to the cafe for tea. Ten minutes later, Constantina and Camille stepped out into the street. The weather was unnaturally warm for November. It was 21 degrees Celsius, rainy and humid as hell. 
“This is going to do wonders to my hair,” Consti thought almost absentmindedly. She pushed her hood over her head, both to protect her hair and to attempt to hide her sword. Her favorite camera was tucked safely in its waterproof bag, so she didn't have to worry about that.But... this case. 
Why were the Flowers being put on it? She had to admit that the bit about the hair was weird - and awful. But, really? Most of their cases were much more... odd. Much more bloody, too, like the case of the bull spirit. It gored seventeen people in one night before it was put down. 
That was a Katyusha case though. She helped, what little she could, but... damn it. She really had to stop thinking about that Russian reject.“
Hey, you think we should hail a cab? Or just take the truck?” That was always the difficult part. Sometimes a cab was helpful because they never, ever listened to traffic laws, but at the same time, hiding a sword on her back was way harder. Stupid time of year for her to be taking lead on a case. 
Was she ready?---The girls were late, again. Judith realized they were just waking up, most of them anyway. This scene was getting colder, however, and Constantina knew better. The coroner was packing the body away, taking it to the morgue for the autopsy. If this was anything like the last murder, they'd find his stomach filled with hair as well.She fired off another text to the girls.You're late.
Again.She didn't really think she needed to expound on that, Constantina knew it was for her. You're supposed to be leading these girls, Constant, not teaching them how to be lazy. Oh, well, she would give her a new ass later.
"Do you have enough money to take a cab?" Camille asked Constant.
If there was a constant theme for Constantina and Camille was that money between them was always short. Camille was constantly buying random old objects and texts to add to her collection. The older an item was, the more likely that it could have hidden potential magic.
"Then again...I am not sure if I trust you with driving the unit's truck...Ever since the Cheval Mallet incident, I-I still have flashbacks to when you used it to ram that otherworldly horse into the depths of the sea." Camille said.
She then hugged her book bag that contained her spell book. Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was actually friends with Constantina or one of her biggest critics.
“That horse was kidnapping people, so I hit it with the truck. Sue me,” was Consti's retort. 
“Anyway, I suppose you can drive - if you get the lead out.” 
Cheval Mallet was supposedly folklore, but with the history of the Flowers, and even what each girl could do... Not everything is as fake as people think.
They hit the road a few minutes later, air conditioning blaring. Constantina was extremely tempted to kick Camille out of the driver's seat. People were passing them as though they were standing still. Cautious was understandable, especially after the Cheval Mallet incident—the horse didn't even die, apparently—but this was ridiculous. “Hey, Camille, I thought we agreed for you to step on it!” she repeated often.
"I am doing the speed limit. If we go over it, we'll get noticed." She stated.
An orange horizon greeted them by the time they actually reached the Jeanne d'Arc. Twenty minutes their collective asses, it was now 6:10, and Judith was clearly heated. Consti swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn...
“Constantina,” boss lady really didn't waste time on ripping her a new one. “Do you have ANY idea what twenty minutes mean?”
Again, she swallowed. One of the few things she truly hated—other than Katyusha—was getting in trouble with Judith. It always started with the dress-down, but her disapproval lasted so much longer. “Yes, Judith, I know what twenty minutes meant.”
“I suppose you have an excuse?”
How about I don't know how you're going to make a forty minute drive in twenty, including dress time? “No. I don't.” 
Even with her Mediterranean heritage, she suddenly felt like it was 130 degrees with enough humidity you couldn't towel dry. Judith at least seemed satisfied with her answer because she immediately wheeled on her for something else. In this case, she was not wearing the regulation uniform.
“You do realize we have a dress code?”
 After she parked the car, finally Camille slowly got herself ready. Judith seemed to know that this bookworm took her time, it was just a part of her duty as the magus of the group. Camille then adjusted her cap, so that it was squared more on her head. She then got out of the truck and slung her heavy side bag over her body.
"I apologize, Commissar." Camille said. "I'll make sure to go a bit faster with the truck. I don't trust it that much. A-Anyways, outside of lax uniform wear...What would like to discuss with us?"
Judith paused her tirade for a moment, studying the girls. Camille was attentive, always listening and taking criticism with the astute purpose of bettering herself, other than when it came to her driving. She was like that to a fault, often backing down when she should be getting angry and stepping up to the plate.
Constantina wanted so badly to be like Katyusha, going so far as to hate her. But in reality, she might be strong – and decent with her sword – but it was her words that made her useful. A real crowd pleaser, easily placating the masses in a situation like this.
“Constantina. Lead these girls like you're supposed to. If you can drive faster than Camille, do so. Get here when you're supposed to. Learn to sleep lightly, as you should have been the first one awake.
Pacing across from them, she considered what was actually important. The body, the man hung up by ropes made of human hair. And hair that defied science.
“Anyways, here's the situation. This is the sixth such murder in the last three months, spaced exactly two weeks apart. Positive ID on all of the victims. The first four were Jack the Ripper style murders, all of them prostitutes out of the red light district. The last two, a businessman and this cab driver, while a-typical, mimic murders that happened over a hundred years ago, and a hundred more than that. Pattern also stands that there are four more victims. One an officer of justice, so keep an eye out for that. Do you two have any real questions about this?”
"Is it possible for me to get a piece of the hair?" Camille asked quickly. "I-I mean, before the Agency’s researchers get their hands on it. My tomes might be able to sense something about what we're dealing with. If what you are saying is fact...That there have been historical accounts going back several hundred years...We can pinpoint a common thread. Maybe...Constantina and I can work together on some scouting out clues once I connect the dots?" She knew it was going to be a long shot. The Agency always got its hands on the supernatural before the local cops or civilians could make answers out of it. The simple answer was that it never happened or it was mass hysteria.
For once, Judith lacked the forethought to utilize a Flower's magic. It wasn't that it never happened, but it wasn't often, for sure. Quickly, she scanned the bridge, looking to see if anything had been untouched. She sighed. “I'm sure we'll find something for you to use.” Clearly, Judith was having an off day.
Jack the Ripper... Still alive after a century and a half. Why was the Agency so sure it was him? It could be any number of monstrous people. This wasn't even his modus operandi.
The braid! She'd kept the braid the killer had used as a noose. She'd hid that from the Agency’s Forensic Team to show the girls just what kind of monster they were up against. “We do have the noose that was used.”
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inexchangeforyoursoul · 6 years ago
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Aaand... here. [ffnet] [ao3]
Me notes: I’m living dangerously and haven’t actually looked up the possible lingering symptoms of lead poisoning up till a week ago. And yet, it’s disturbing how legit my guesses were, even past the chronic pain lmao??? Shit’s wild, yo.(Won’t come up, but among other things, it can fuck up your cognitive abilities, that is to say, make you stupid(er)... our genius Law’s IQ was probably so broken that it needed to be nerfed to hell, yet he’s still one of the smartest jackasses in the series. somehow, this info delights me… what a force of nature.) (I’m definitely winging the shit as to why those things happen tho, this is just a shitty fic project, I don’t need nor really want a PhD in neurosurgery and whatnot. … for now, at least. I’d be happy with a teacher’s degree. And something to prove that I’m by no stretch bad at translating stuff.)
26. Shenanigans
As soon as Kat reaches her destination, Nami poses a question immediately; “What was that about?” All she could see was that Law was both mad and… well, confused, while trying his darnest to be civil. Which in itself is a point of interest, just like the fact that her new friend here also seems kind of lost.
Kat sighs. “I’ve been too,” Honestly, how should she summarize this? Uh... “well... nice?”
“Too… nice.” On second thought… the navigator feels she shouldn’t be surprised that the Heart captain would find that unwelcome. He’s not exactly the buddy-buddy type, hell, probably even paranoid.
“Like... I felt kind of guilty for skipping all that practice and being a general nuisance,” among other things she cannot talk about... “... so I brought down some rice crackers and tea after breakfast and washed his dusty mug that must have been lying around for months for him,” she looks up, slowing down a bit to get her thoughts in order; “We had, like, a tea party. Which was still okay, I guess. After having managed to sit out the new training shit proper, probably looking like a maniac during it all… I definitely overdid it by buying a teddy at the fair for his suspiciously big bear themed collection.” It really seems excessive and random in hindsight. “Man, can you imagine I even considered to buy a gigantic one? I couldn’t bring myself to pay up the twelve grand, but… pfff.” she mumbles mostly to herself, putting on a faint smile over the mental image of chucking that monstrosity at him again, then places a hand on her cheek while contemplating the general idea over in vague confusion. She settled for the small one, but... sheesh. On the other hand, she likes being charitable, and it’s been too damn long since she had both the financial background and an excuse to buy a gift for someone apart from the obligatory job stuff. Thinking about this makes her want to give a little ‘thank you’ gift of sorts to both crews… except, well, she ain’t got jack as far as ideas are concerned. They already have everything they could need, too.
Nami rolls her eyes upon hearing that. “Geez… it’s like you’re wishing him a belated happy birthday and he’s complaining over the attention. Which… is not all that surprising, I guess,” she concludes then with a shrug. “He did the same when we threw him a party before arriving in the country,” His main complaint was that he had his private party with his crew a few days back… none can do for Luffy if he wants to party, however. “On the other hand… you do realize that you sound like an overly apologetic boyfriend, right?” Nami muses while returning her attention to her, finding sudden enjoyment over the image of Knight Kat and her grumpy liege.
“Well… he is a princess as far as I’m concerned,” Kat nods in agreement. “While I’m not sure his highness would agree, I can see where you’re coming from, though,” she adds, scratching the sideburns in embarrassment. “I’m… not really good at taking care of anyone or anything in general, no lie. The moons must have aligned, or something.”
“You must be underestimating yourself,” the other woman states, leading her towards the table with the still steaming drink on it. Sanji must have been here a mere minute ago. “People who have no sense of nurture would never be able to do your job, you know?”
“Work is different,” she protests, crossing her forearms in an X, and squints at the back of Nami’s head where some small creature seems to be very, very lost in the orange sea; “Because… I know I have to do that stuff, and I must pay attention at least some of the time, you know? If I didn’t, I’d get fired. When just home, or hanging out… I get way too comfortable, and next thing I notice after spacing out is that the day is already over. Flowers unwatered and still full of lice or whatever, dog unwalked and unpooped, cat unfed and has knocked everything off the table, and then there’s me, also hungry and dirty... Can’t just do all of that quick before going to bed, can you?” She sighs. “I’m happy I’ve gotten far enough to be able to take care of myself, you know.” Sometimes she still forgets to eat, or keeps going just one or two more days without the designated bath. It’s so… it’s beyond embarrassing. And infuriating. Occasionally… even humiliating.
She picks up her cup and stirs the beverage, then downs half of it immediately. A sugar chunk in her mouth and the barely comfortable temperature remind her that she probably should slow the fuck down. Oh well… if she already has half the cube, might as well lick it away.
“... I still think you are selling yourself short, but… can’t say I haven’t met the problem.” Getting started after Bellemere was… overwhelming. Although they helped out a lot since they were little, and there wasn’t a lot more extra work to do, neither her nor Nojiko had an idea where to start with the household, even though the villagers cleaned up the mess in the house that Hachi had left behind. The laundry seemed to be more when it was less, the cooking more challenging... even the tangerine grove felt bigger and more intimidating than before. Everything appeared to be more than what it was in reality. When she noticed some work waiting to be done, she handled it on autopilot, but there really was a lot of spacing out while doing stuff. From what she just said, Kat seems to be in a similar state of mind, albeit near permanently. “Either way, that already is something. You talk as if you were worse about it, so there’s nothing to be worried about. That forestside cottage won’t tend itself once you get there.”
Kat lets a smile creep on her face, being reminded of her silly life goals. Nami was listening in on her and Robin’s conversation, huh? “I guess… but I’m still eons away from even attempting that.” Finishing the sentence, she also finishes her coffee and puts the cup down. Now, let’s address that minor annoyance that’s been bugging her quite literally for a minute… “By the way, turn around a bit?”
“Turn…? Why should I?” the redhead asks, complying with the request regardless.
Kat reaches into her hair and picks out one tiny black dot after short looking around the neck area. “You had one of these really small spiders in your hair,” she says, lifting the little goober for her to see. The wind carries these all over the place.
“Eeeh,” Nami gets shivers turning back to her while holding her locks, zeroing in on the barely visible animal. “Oh, god, get it away….!”
A mischievous smile appears on Kat’s face; Nami knows her just enough to step back and eye her with suspicion.
“Away?”
“Don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
Another step back is followed by a step forward by Kat, and they start waltzing faster and faster, until Nami starts sprinting and runs into Sanji, who is bringing out drinks for her and probably Carrot, as Robin should be having her coffee now.
“Shield!!” she shouts, flinging him in between. The man keeps enough balance for the layered cocktails to barely sway; quite impressive. He’s also visibly pleased with the development.
“Oh, Nami, dear~ you are so passionate today. What brings you to me~?”
“An itsy bitsy spider,” says Kat, bringing it up to his nose, almost.
“Oh, a spi---” the smile freezes onto Sanji’s face upon turning towards her, then he emits a sound alike a deflating balloon before arching back all of a sudden over Nami in panic. The utensils in his hand can’t compete with the sudden movement, and are wobbling precariously, until the tray itself starts to tilt; noticing that, Kat snaps her hand towards said objects to stop them from falling, and the spider, having had enough of these shenanigans, uses the momentum to make an exit with a jump into the greenery.
The drinks, along with every layer, practically stop in time; Sanji looks over to them, still in shock.
“Sweet catch,” says a bubbly Carrot who has likely seen everything as she's sliding down the mast.
“... thanks…” Kat squeaks. Something about this feels… weird, though. “And, uh, sorry,” she adds, looking over to the cook. “Didn’t know you felt this strongly about creepy crawlies.” She almost ruined those drinks and potentially could have broken the glasses, too...
“I-it’s fine,” he croaks with the frozen smile still on his face, shaking a little both from the position and scare.
“That was mean, Kat,” Nami grumbles, pushing the man back onto his feet, checking the grass for the small stowaway. “Don’t bring bugs near me… or Sanji, -sorry, Sanji,- they are gross!”
“After this, I really won’t,” she mumbles, slowly setting the glasses back into position on the tray now that Sanji’s calming down and is not shaking things all over the place. The contents, however… need extra care? They are levitating by themselves, so she needs to move them along with the glass. What is she doing differently, here?
“Thank you,” the man mumbles with the last item returning to its place and having recollected himself.
“No need to, I was the one brewing trouble in the first place.” Being done with the extra task, she feels relieved. “The falling things save is an aspect that I’ll definitely miss, no lie,” she breathes then; the odd feeling from before has not left her. There’s a notion that she can pinpoint every last detail around the ship, to the last strand of hair… she can even feel the little tiptoes of that tiny arachnid under them; taking a look to the side, she can spot a dot exactly where she thinks it is, too. And two butterflies flapping around the garden, flies all over the place, and just in general a lot of all kinds of small creatures all over. Even the positions of people moving around on board, whom she can kind of identify by size, position, what they might be doing or the way they walk… as well as the different layers in the drinks, which appear to be the most detailed ‘feeling’ thing. There’s just a lot of stuff not belonging to places, and it’s a little overwhelming.
Her perception being off is apparently noticeable, as Nami picks up on it as well. “You alright?” Kat has a tendency to space out or look out of it, so she’s always a little worried that there’s something like a pulled neck muscle going on. Most of the time, though, she’s just daydreaming.
“No, I’m alright, it’s…” Suddenly, she feels enlightened. “Oh, I think I know what this is…”
“What would that something be?” Nami asks, blinking in confusion.
“I think I just activated this scanning stuff by accident,” she informs her, looking down at her hands. The trigger must have been reaching for the glasses, but… how does one turn it off?
“Scanning…?” the woman mumbles. This must be something Ope Ope related.
“Like… I just know where a lot of stuff is, all of a sudden…” Thinking about it, she knows specifically where living things are, and the overall shapes of objects. And… possibly the density of things, because, those drinks...
Sanji notes her sudden interest in said beverages. “Would the resident changeling fairy like a glass of her own?”
Oh god, he’s already back to cheesy descriptions level… ANYWAY.
“No, thanks, I don't drink... I do like looking at pretty cocktails, though.” Honestly, sometimes they smell really nice, so it's hard to resist.... like these. There’s some chocolate and raspberries in there… but all she has to think of is the bitter aftertaste and the temptation is no more.
“Actually,” she continues as Nami gets her cocktail to sip on and Carrot walks up to them, asking whether she can have the other one, to which Sanji informs the mink that it was meant to be hers anyway; “mind if I try something with one of these…?”
“Oh, are you going to do some cool tricks?” Carrot asks with excitement; “I’ve been wanting to see the stuff Bropper has been talking about, too!”
“Ah, right!! I wanted to show you some stuff, anyway!” she says while sucking up some of the radiating fuzz buzz up, too.
Sanji raises a brow and puts on half a sulk. It takes a second to let the notion of food being tampered with slide, but if it’s for the greater good and less frustrating body statuses… Indeed, the thought of everything in the universe being in its rightful place puts his head back in the clouds. “I’ll be on my way, my lovelies, call if you need anything~” he swoons while disappearing back in the kitchen in a whirlwind.
Nami also gets going direction library and waves goodbye while drinking, which gesture the remaining two return.
“So, so,” the mink starts again, lifting up the glass to Kat; “what do you want to do with this?”
“What I want to do with the drink specifically is probably not that interesting, but even if it’s a total failure, I’ll make it up to you right after,” she notes. She has about one shot at this, anyway.
“Tee-hee~ Show me watcha got,” the rabbit girl says with a smug face to challenge the cocktail’s opponent.
“As you wish,” Kat responds with a smile of the same smugness level; Carrot snorts at this.
“You legit sound and look like Bepo’s captain right now,” she giggles.
“Hey, hey, careful,” Kat half-laughs while trying to keep the glass upright; “I need this thing as it is right now.”
“Alright, even if you will suck at this, you’ve already redeemed yourself,” the mink states as they waddle with combined efforts towards the table to put the beverage on. “Purely on a basis of a spot-on impression that you ruined immediately after.” She wasn’t there for the first performance anyway. “Bonus points for not even trying, tho.”
“Well, Carrot, to catch the pray…” she looks around with shifty eyes as the glass clinks on the polished surface; “you need to become the prey.”
“Well, well, well, Kat… I literally am prey,” she nods, releasing the object at last. “Also… are you saying you are out on a hunt? Hmm?” The smug smile returns, and this time it’s accompanied by a knowing look and crossed arms.
The girl needs to consider this for a moment, and she also puts on a comically exaggerated thinking face. Is she trying to go for Law's jugular in any way or form? She's had worse company, but... "Not really. Or deliberately. Unless hunting for funny situations for either person counts as such." With that she also lets go of the poor liquid that still retains most of its original form.
Carrot nods wisely after a few seconds, eyes entranced in the cloudy horizon. “... that’s fair, can’t blame you for that.”
Kat needs to hold back a smile, then decides to put an end to this banter. “Okay, alright, I may have finished off my coffee in like three shots, but I’ll have to hurry regardless,” she waves her hands around. “Let’s see this bad boy,” she groans while dropping on a chair; Carrot follows her lead and watches intently.
Okay, so… she still has that feeling going, that’s good; she also tried to keep the drink stable while holding it, which seems to have been a success. Now, how to do the thing she has in mind… She touches the glass again, which seems to power up the sensation somewhat; even if it’s a placebo effect, being in contact seems to make things much easier. There is definitely a difference between the glass and its content... what she’s really interested in, however, are the individual layers, which also seem different… they feel different. Especially the lightest and heaviest ones.
What if she just tried, took the lowest, dark layer, and...
“... Kat, what part of reality are you breaking again?” asks Usopp in a vaguely wary manner while passing with his tool box, his eyes catching the liquid blob pass a rather opaque layer following her finger before settling on top. Carrot breathes a ‘cool’ as she watches on with her head on the table.
“... density or gravity, I guess.” If not both. Those are kinda correlated, aren't they...? Eh, fuck physics. She can break all the rules, anyway.
As the layer settles in, she takes a look at the one now below it; a motion of another finger lowers it to the middle, then she raises it up again through the static ones. After that, she puts the reddish, heavy goop back to its place, with the lightest layer over it. Releasing it all makes the whitish liquid phase through multiple other ones, stirring the entire cocktail up. Looks rather nifty, with all those vertical stripes in it. Last part notwithstanding... if souls or whatever feel just as different, and she can make them slide through another... after some refinement, this just might be the thing she needs.
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sapphicjeon · 7 years ago
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Lilac & Vanilla ||001
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Summary:  A story about a boy and girl in love. But sometimes love just isn’t enough
Part: 01 of 3 
Pairing:  Jungkook/OC
Genre:  Angst, Drama, Romance, College/Uni au
Warnings:  Mature themes ( explicit language, drug/alcohol abuse, sexual acts)
Word Count:  3.148k
You can also read this on a03
Jungkook takes a slow deep drag from his cigarette. Looking out into the city skyline, the sun is slowly setting, the sky coloured in oranges and red. The glow from the sun gives his skin a beautiful orange undertone. It would make an excellent photo, but he’s too lazy to run back inside to his room to get his camera. Since his fight with Casey, he’s lost motivation to do anything these days.  He takes another long inhale of the cigarette. Down below there are people walking by probably in a drunken haze, its Saturday night and Toronto is busy filled with pretty women in short dresses. A girl with a gorgeous afro and bright red lipstick bobs up and down the street with her friend in hand. They sing Justin Bieber song from the top of their lungs.
The thought of Casey pops up into his mind.
He can’t seem to get her out of his mind, her hair, and her eyes, brown with flecks of gold in them. The smell of her lilac perfume, her boisterous laugh. It’s all just too much. He hasn’t heard from her in three days which to some may not seem like much but for him, it’s a long time considering they talk every single day.
He’s not surprised though, he’s been an asshole. When she’d caught him making out with some random redhead at the bar she never said a thing, just stood there and watched them. It wasn’t until they stopped for air when Jungkook looked up and saw the hurt look in her eyes her lips pursed as if to stop herself from crying. Then she turned around and disappeared into the crowd. He never ran after her. He should’ve he knows. When the red head asked if he knew her he shakes his head no and continues kissing her.
He doesn’t know why he keeps hurting her. Hell, he doesn’t even know why she keeps going back to him. Even though he doesn’t act like it deep down he needs her. Needs the way her leg feels against his thigh whenever they’re wrapped up in the sheets together. He needs the way she says “Good morning” in that raspy voice of hers playful and fun. The way she ruffles his hair whenever she’s being cheeky. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself He needs her more than he needs air to breathe.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s Taehyung with a text saying “I’m downstairs.”
Taehyung is standing outside his hands in his pocket and a joint tucked behind his ear. He grins like a mad man when he sees Jungkook coming out the door of his building. He wraps his arm around Jungkook’s neck and they make their way down the street to the Tavern. It’s three dollar beer night which thank goodness because he could really go for a pint right now.  
“Tonight’s gonna be lit!” Said Taehyung.
Jungkook laughs and shakes his head. “You say this every time we go out.”
“Yeah and don’t we always have a good time?”  Said Taehyung.
Jungkook nods and says, “Yea but usually it ends with me having to drag you out of the bar because you always seem to enjoy pissing off the owner.”
Taehyung laughs sheepishly taking the joint from behind his ear and lighting it up.
“He’s just in love with me is all.” Taehyung hands the joint over to Jungkook.
“I knew you were fucking him.”
Taehyung gasps in fake surprise and swats Jungkook. “I am not!”  
Jungkook gives Taehyung a look of apprehension.
Taehyung snatches the joint out of Jungkook’s hand avoiding eye contact. “I may have made out with him a couple of times.”
Jungkook barks out a laugh
“Of course you have.”
~~~
When they get to the pub it’s packed. Some people he recognises from Uni. He looks over at the stage and it’s some obscure band but when he takes a good look at the lead singer he realises that its Namjoon the guy from his calculus class dressed in a white tee, and a leather jacket his hair side-swept grinning at one of the girls in the front row.
“Prick” Jungkook mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes.
He heads to the bar and orders him and Taehyung a beer. Graciously taking the beer Taehyung takes a huge gulp.
“I need to get laid tonight, all this studying for finals is doing my fucking head in.”  
Jungkook nods in agreement taking a swig of his beer. He wonders if Casey is here too.  He scans the sea of people looking for reddish brown afro hair but he doesn’t see her.  Does he even want to see her? What is he really going to say to her after he just full on kissed another woman in front of her?  
“You’re looking for Casey aren’t you?”  Said Taehyung
Jungkook jumps out of his reverie with slightly wide eyes avoiding eye contact. He takes a sip of his beer.
“No.”
Jungkook has never been a very good liar especially when it comes to Taehyung. He’s known him long enough to know when he’s lying or not. Sometimes he thinks Taehyung knows him better than he knows himself.
“You’re a terrible liar” Taehyung deadpans.
“I’m not lying!”
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Kook, just forget about her right now look at all this pussy just for us.”
Jungkook cringes at that. He doesn’t like the way Taehyung swears, it makes him sound like twelve-year-old swearing for the first time.  
“Please stop, besides I haven’t spoken to her in days anyways it’s not like I care.”
He then spots her, reddish brown hair long past her shoulders flirting with Namjoon the guitarist from the band. He whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh out loud. There’s a twinge of jealousy fluttering around in Jungkook’s stomach. He shouldn’t be jealous he knows that he has no right to be. But he can’t seem to help himself. He’s the only one that should be able to make her laugh like that no one else.  
Namjoon wraps his arm around Casey. His hand sliding lower and lower until he grabs her ass making her yelp and giggle. She kisses him running her hand in his sweaty gross hair. Jungkook’s had it, he chugs the last of his beer slamming it on the counter and marches right over.
“Kook! C’mon man don’t worry about her!” Taehyung yells after him.
But Jungkook ignores him making a beeline towards Casey. He grabs her arm pulling her towards him.
“What the fuck?!”  Said Casey.
Casey snatches her arm back from him.
“What is your problem?”
“I need to speak to you” Said Jungkook.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to speak to you.”  Said Casey.
All of a sudden Namjoon is obscuring his view of Casey. He’s tall with terribly bleach blonde hair and his roots showing there’s a cross earring dangling from his right ear. Jungkook wants to rip that fucking earring out. But before he does anything rash he calms himself down. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and sighs.
“This has nothing to do with you, now if you’d excuse me I need to talk to Casey,” Jungkook says firmly.
“She doesn’t want to speak with you.”  
Namjoon steps forward in an intimidating way puffing out his chest. It takes everything in Jungkook’s power not to laugh. This guy is a joke, seriously what does Casey see in him.
“I’m pretty sure Casey can speak for herself.”
When he looks over at her she’s staring at the two of them with a worried look on her face, almost too scared to say anything. Jungkook takes a step around Namjoon towards Casey but he blocks his way.  
At this point, Jungkook has had enough and without another word, he swings a fist towards Namjoon making him stumble back. There’s blood dripping from his mouth. When he notices he charges towards Jungkook. But Casey steps in before he can get to him.
“Alright, alright that’s enough!” Casey yells.  
“Fine Kookie, you wanna talk let’s talk.”
Casey gives Namjoon an apologetic smile ushering Jungkook towards the bar lounge. Jungkook gives Namjoon a smug look while giving him the finger.
He orders himself and Casey a pint. They find a quiet booth to chat in. Casey grabs Jungkook’s hand examining the bruises. He snatches his hand away from her telling her he’s fine.
Casey tuts “You just made yourself look like a complete idiot, what is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one hanging out with wannabe Justin Bieber over there!”
Casey sighs rubbing her temples. “See, that’s your problem you’re too high strung, what did you want to talk about anyway?”
Jungkook takes a long swig of his beer. By now he’s way too drunk to be spilling out his feelings but nonetheless, here he is. He takes a second to examine Casey, her hair is now up in a messy bun her cheeks slightly flushed from drinking too much and the fiasco that just took place. She’s wearing a pretty shade of baby pink lipstick which is a beautiful contrast to her brown skin.  
He wants so badly just to kiss her, forget everything that’s happened between them take her back to his apartment and make love to her until the sun comes up.  
“You look so beautiful” he blurts out without thinking.
Casey has a surprised look on her face but it quickly changes with her rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Is that what you brought me here to tell me?” She goes to get up to leave but Jungkook quickly catches her hand and gently tugs her back to sit down with pleading eyes.
“Please sit,” he says it a bit too desperately. He scolds himself mentally at how pathetic he’s being. Casey reluctantly sits down taking a sip of her beer she gives him a look encouraging him to continue.
Suddenly Jungkook is nervous fiddling with his ring around his finger, the one Casey gave him when they went to the festival over by the harbour. He hasn’t taken it off since. He doesn’t like to talk about his feelings he prefers to be the cool guy the one with the laid-back attitude who likes to make people laugh. He’s not good with showing who he really is, an overly sensitive romantic who is crazy in love with the woman sitting in front of him.
But he knows that if he really wants things to work out between the two of them then he’s going to have to open up and let her in. Two years of back and forth is too exhausting. Without thinking about it too much he blurts
“I want to take things more serious.”
Casey snorts into her cup at that he knows she’s heard that line before. Too many times in fact but Jungkook means it this time he swears by it. No more sleeping with other women behind her back just so he could prove something to himself. Just because he’s scared. He wants to get better he wants to make it work this time around.
“No I’m serious Cas, I want this to work out, I want to take this relationship to the next level.”
“What makes this time so different? How do I know this is just not some bull shit about how you have changed, and how things are going to be better?”
Jungkook doesn’t know, but he knows this time is different because it just is and even though that’s not good enough for her it is for him.  Stupidly he shrugs his shoulders “Can’t you just trust me?”
Casey gives Jungkook an incredulous look and shakes her head. “That’s not good enough.”
“I’m trying Cas I-“
“Are you? Because the last time I saw you, you had your tongue down another woman’s throat.”
“She didn’t mean anything I swear!”
“Oh lovely so because she didn’t mean anything to you suddenly it makes it ok, alright then.”
“No that’s not what I meant”
“Then what did you mean?”
Jungkook sighs running his hand through his hair. This is not how he imagined the conversation would go, so many things running through his mind. Deep down he wants to say that really and truly he’s terrified, he’s never felt this way about any woman. He didn’t think he could feel this way about anyone, to be honest. He just thought that he was just going to go through his life never falling in love and he was ok with that.  But then he met Casey and his entire world was turned upside down.
Suddenly he’s feeling things he’s never felt before and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid he’ll muck things up so instead, he finds other women to mess around with to distract him. Which doesn’t help much obviously and that it only makes things worse.
Jungkook sighs, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth anxiously He starts to fiddle with his ring again. He needs to think of something to say in order to make her stay and fast. Casey looks at him expectantly, he opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. There is another bout of awkward silence and when she realises he’s not going to say anything she shakes her head in disappointment.  
“You have nothing to say for yourself?” said Casey.
Without thinking, Jungkook blurts out “I’m sorry.”
Casey scoffs and quickly gets up out of her seat without saying anything and marches right out of the pub with Jungkook following close behind her. He is spewing out every excuse he can think of. When they are a few metres from the pub outside Casey lets out a frustrated guttural shout.
“When are you going to grow the fuck up Kookie?”
Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, a little taken aback.
“You have never held yourself accountable for the bullshit you put me through and frankly I’m tired. I’m tired of not hearing from you for days at a time, worrying about you, wondering if you’re ok only to find out you’re with some other girl. I’m tired of being treated as second best.
“Like, do you even respect me? Do you actually love me or am I just some play thing to you?”
“I love you!” Jungkook shouts a little too loudly, his voice more eager than he intended.
“Seriously?! Is that all you can say to me?”  Casey spits. “As if I haven’t heard that lie a million times before.”
He’s not lying though, he does love her more than anything, more than filming, sometimes even more than his friends and although he hates to admit it, more than himself.
A motorcycle zooms past them the loud roar of the engine makes Jungkook flinch.
“Can we go to my place and talk?”
“No.,” said Casey
“Please?” his voice cracks. He swallows the lump down his throat. He needs her, in his bed, in his clothes the smell of vanilla and lilac in his sheets, he misses that.
Casey’s stance is offensive but the look in her eyes says otherwise. She’s considering it in her mind. Jungkook knows her body too well.
“I promise nothing will happen.”  
He means that too. Jungkook may be a liar but he knows that there is a time and place for everything. Casey is the only person he shows his vulnerable side too although he hates it. He knows that she won’t judge him for it.
“Why?” said Casey a pained expression her face.  
She looks withered faded dark circles under eyes the dried paint under her nails tells him that she’s been up all night working on her final assignment.
Jungkook anxiously chews the bottom of his lip. He knows that she’s not asking really asking “why” but rather “what is the point?” This what they have done for the past two years since they started Uni. They love, they fuck, someone cheats, they fight, and then they get back together again. A vicious, poisonous cycle.
He sighs looking at her with big sad doe-like eyes.  He notices a look in her eyes, she’s already made the decision in her mind all she wants is justification.
“Because I need you.”
As sad that sounds it’s true.
~~~
He wraps his arm around her waist and gently pulls her in, kissing her deep and slow. Running his hand through her hair the smell of lilac and vanilla fills his lungs. He’s missed this scent so much. It makes him giddy with excitement.  He grabs her by the back of her thighs and gently scoops her up and towards the bedroom.
They fall onto the bed with a plop. Casey frantically running her hands all over his body. He grabs both her hands and puts them up above her head, he kisses her neck steady and slow, licking down her neck and nibbling on her ear. When he hears a groan escapes her lips he smirks into her neck and does it again. No longer able to contain herself Casey bucks her hips up
He tucks his arm under her waist drawing her closer. Her cheeks are slightly rosy, face glistens with sweat. She looks absolutely stunning. He wants to kiss her until he’s out of breath.
“Stay with me tonight.” He says breathlessly
Casey nods “ok“
“I mean it. Don’t leave this time please.”
Casey smiles again and softly pecks him on the cheek. “I promise”
She nestles into his body and in that moment Jungkook feels so damn happy he could burst.
He wakes up the next morning the warm sun on his face, he stretches reaching out for Casey. But when he doesn’t feel anything he opens his eyes and realises that she’s gone.
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