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jadekitty777 · 4 years ago

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On the Precipice of Trust

Fff alright, time for my personal favorite of the three I’ll be posting this weekend. I hope you all will like it too!

Day 2: Scars

Dedicated to: @saenda for unknowingly encouraging me to finish this one. I took an educated guess that your tumblr name and Ao3 name are the same lol

Rating: T, because Qrow had to be an inappropriate asshole

Words: Almost 9k

Summary: When Clover mysteriously doesn't show up for mission assignments, Qrow fears another betrayal is on the horizon and decides to go investigate. Instead of finding the man scheming with General Ironwood, he discovers Atlas' famed boy scout is just a bit under the weather.

But Qrow quickly realizes that there's more to the captain's sickness than just a simple cold. And even more to Clover himself, well hidden under all those cheerful smiles.

Ao3 Link: On the Precipice of Trust

Suspicion immediately wove into Qrow’s mind when Harriet went up to the mission board and started the announcement process.

“Alright everyone, I’m going to be assigning the missions for today!” Her voice boomed over the room.

Keeping his tone light and casual, he asked, “Where’s Mr. Lucky?”

“According to the General, he’s indisposed for today.” Harriet sidestepped, before turning to the board.

In the corner of his eye, he saw the various ways some of the kids reacted. Ruby sat up a little straighter. Blake’s left ear twitched. Yang started to curl a thread of her hair around her finger. All subtle, but all on the same wavelength.

This was what they had been waiting for.

As Yang, Blake and he crossed the courtyard towards the transport ships, Qrow spared the academy a look, then said, “Alright kiddos, I’m gonna vanish for a bit.”

“Right.” Yang’s tone betrayed her unease.

“Firecracker?”

“It’s just-” She stopped, halting the rest of them. She looked towards him with a frown, “Do you really think the General will betray us?”

Qrow frowned, his gaze drifting towards the skyline. “I never thought Leo would. Or Oz. So, safe to say my judge of character is pretty shit.”

“Then am I just dumb?”

That had Qrow’s gaze snapping back to her.

Blake’s ears had fallen. “Yang…”

“I, just, feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t suspect him.” She offered hesitantly, rubbing her hand over her metal wrist.

He followed the movement, reaching out to place a hand over the metal limb. “You wanting to see the best in someone isn’t dumb, especially for someone who’s done so much for you. Actually, you share that quality with Summer.” He snorted in amusement. “Granted, you’re a little more careful. …A lot more, actually. Sums was the type to trust a pickpocket to hold her wallet.”

That earned him a chuckle and he took it as a personal victory.

“Believe me, I would like nothing more than to be wrong. That’s why being cautious is the smart thing to do.”

Yang sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to.”

“Maybe one day, we won’t have to.” Was his own offer of condolence. “You two get out of here. I’ll catch up with you if it turns out to be nothing.”

With that, they went their own ways. Yang and Blake to the transport that would take them to the Grimm extraction mission down in Mantle. Him in the sky on his unofficial reconnaissance mission.

Qrow was so tired of being betrayed. Of feeling like he had to second guess every action of every so-called friend. He didn’t want to suspect James. Hell, he especially didn’t want to suspect Clover – though, he’d be the first to say his decision on that wasn’t entirely sound, if his growing attraction to the handsome brunet had anything to say about it.

That was what was on his mind as he flew past the General’s office, finding it empty. He gave a squawk of annoyance, before starting to circle the building.

Maybe this was just what trust looked like during a time of war. Spying on their own allies at every hint of unusual behavior and second-guessing every word spoken. The more he thought about it, the more he had to wonder if it was going both ways. Were the Aceops offering to train the kids because they truly wanted to hone their skills, or were they secretly hoping one of them would trip up over intel that they could report back to James? Was Clover assigning their missions together because he enjoyed his company or because he could keep an eye on him?

The idea filled him with dread. It only worsened when he considered that to do that, James would have had to order it. A year ago, he would have said that was a ridiculous thought.

But things had changed so much since Beacon fell. With him. With the world. With – Clover.

Wait. Clover?!

Qrow canted to the left, circling back to the window he had just flown past. Another glimpse told him his sight had been true. He dared to draw in closer, landing on one of the fancy panes that decorated the window in crystal-shaped formations. He tucked his wings in so the wind couldn’t carry him away and peered into the room.

The man was shambling around a small studio not too unlike the accommodations Qrow himself had been provided upon his arrival. There were personal touches here and there that he noticed on first glance – a plotted plant right on the other side of the glass, a shelf full of books, a ship in a bottle displayed on a desk. His focus mostly remained on Clover though.

The other huntsman was a mess. He seemed to be walking with a deliberate slowness, an arm around his stomach as he carried a small cup to his bedside. His normally upkept hair was a disheveled tangle and his face seemed pale and gaunt. He hadn’t even gotten out of his nightwear, still in dark grey sweats, a green undershirt and – were those slippers? Shaped like goldfish?

If he wasn’t currently a bird, Qrow would have rolled his eyes.

The ridiculous smiley abominations didn’t last long, Clover kicking them off his feet as he climbed back into bed and huddled under the covers. He looked absolutely miserable. Sick as he obviously was, Qrow was pretty sure he could believe Clover wouldn’t be up to anything nefarious for the rest of the day – and probably not the rest of the week either.

Qrow spread his wings and let the wind currents take him away. He headed towards the docking bay, figuring he could join the girls on the mission now.

He didn’t think about Clover again until he was shuffling into the mess hall behind the girls. Not everyone had made it back yet, but Jaune practically pleading for Marrow and Elm to take some of the casserole he’d no doubt been given (seriously, that was the third one this week) reminded him quite suddenly of their missing leader and his poor state.

While Blake secured them a table and Yang and he got in line, he took out his scroll, sending out a quick message. You eat yet?

The response came only a few moments later. No, why?

So he was awake. Good.

How about some soup? I know you’re not feeling well.

He was almost at the front of the line before he got his answer. That would be good. And then, like an afterthought: Thank you.

Qrow dutifully ignored his eldest niece’s knowing look as he ordered the turkey sandwich and chicken noodle soup to go.

He couldn’t quite ignore her teasing tone as he joined her by the pick-up counter. “What’s wrong Uncle Qrow? Feeling a little under the weather?”

“Hush.” He bumped his shoulder against hers. “He’s got to eat.”

“Oh yes. I’m certain there’s no ulterior motive there at all.” Her grin was almost predatory.

Too bad for her he had played this game much longer then her – and was better at it too. He lent over, murmuring, “Yang, it’s called ‘having game’. And honestly? Considering my dinner dates often end in a nice roll in the hay and you can’t even get past hand-holding with your little pussy cat over there, you might just want to bow to the master here.”

Her eyebrows practically hit her hairline. “You’re the worst!”

“That’s not what Clover’s going to be saying.” His smirk grew. “In fact, he might just elect me as Remnant’s newest god.”

She buried her flaming face into her hands. “Oh my gods.”

“Yeah, exactly like that!”

All things told, he probably deserved the punch.

When he reached Clover’s room, he was surprised to find the door was already open a crack. He pushed it the rest of the way with his foot, announcing as he did, “Special delivery!”

Clover was in the same spot he’d been in this morning, huddled under his blankets on the bed – the only difference being he was sitting up at least. Despite the fact he was looking like death warmed over, he managed a smile in his direction. “Hey.”

Qrow grimaced at the hoarseness in his voice. That had to be painful. He kicked the door closed, heading across the room. “You sound like you swallowed a cheese grater.”

“You always this charming to invalids?” Clover joked.

“Nah, I reserve it only for optimistic assholes like you.”

That graced him with a small chuckle.

Qrow set the bag down on the nightstand, pulling out the container of soup and a plastic spoon. As he handed it over, he asked, “Seriously though, how are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck and, when the driver found out I was still alive, backed up over me again.” Clover set the container in his lap, pulling off the plastic top. “Thank you, again, for this. I probably won’t be able to finish it though.”

He waved it off, plopping down on the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry about it. Better you have something than nothing.”

“Suppose so.” He blew on the first spoonful, sipping on the broth. “How’d you know I was sick? I only told James.”

“Uh.” Shit. To make himself appear busy, he riffled through the bag for his sandwich, mind working on overdrive to come up with a plausible excuse. “You just didn’t look so hot after coming in yesterday, so I put two and two together.”

It was a gamble, but unlike their games of poker, this one actually paid off.

“I’m surprised you noticed. I’m usually more discreet.”

He shoved the first bite in his mouth. “You make it sound like you don’t want anyone to know when you’re sick. What’s wrong? Worried about people knowing the Captain of the Best isn’t as infallible as he seems?”

“Careful. If you keep being this observant, you’re going to reveal all my secrets.” He framed it like a joke, but there seemed to be a lack of humor in it.

Qrow paused, side-eyeing him. “You alright?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah.” Clover sighed, slumping back against the headboard. “Just tired, I guess.”

That rose a weird set off alarm bells, and he couldn’t help but sweep an eye over the small studio, almost expecting an Apathy to be hiding in the corner. Of course there wasn’t, the room empty beyond themselves and whatever program was playing on the TV at such a low volume it was almost inaudible.

“It’s frustrating actually.”

He turned his attention back to the other. “What is?”

“Just that-” He frowned, then shook his head. “No, nevermind. It’s nothing.”

It was with way more satisfaction then he should have had against an ill man when he came back with, “Now who’s deflecting?”

Clover blinked, then chuckled weakly, seeming to slump further. “Got me there…” He stirred his soup, already having lost interest in it. “I was sick not too long ago. It was some real awful thing; my throat was so sore I could barely eat. Hardly could get out of bed, either. The day you guys landed was actually only my second day back.”

Qrow did some quick calculations. That was only six weeks ago. “That normal for you, boy scout?”

“Not really.” He sighed. “And this couldn’t be a worse time for it. We need to get Amity up and Mantle’s defenses fine-tuned and the newbies training is still behind and-”

“And maybe that’s the problem.”

“What?”

Was he really going to have to spell it out? He rolled his eyes. People needed to learn when to half-ass it, like him.

“I mean, you’re overworking yourself, genius.” He could already see the argument brewing. Too bad for Clover, years of being a professor and having to deal with overachieving students had given him all the ammo he needed. “And yeah, I know. Everything you’ve got to do is important. But, so are you hotshot. So, maybe don’t run yourself into the ground?”

He thought about, but didn’t add, how thanks to him keeping tabs on nearly every single member of the Ace-ops, he also knew Clover almost never left his office until it was nearly midnight but was still the first to rise at dawn. That any tasks James didn’t have time for on his already overbooked schedule fell to him. That he was both running and assigning missions, handling reports and regimes, and somehow still managed to find time to provide Qrow with daily life advice that probably came from his desk calendar.

Overworked probably didn’t even begin to describe it.

Clover seemed to mull over his words quietly, running a hand over his chest with a grimace. “I know you’re right. But there’s still so much to do.”

“I think we can handle things for a few days.” He reassured.

“I don’t doubt you can. You’re all incredible. It’s just hard, knowing everyone else is giving their all while I’m just… here. Not contributing.” He ladled another spoonful of soup, raising it. “Oh! Maybe I can still do the paperwo-”

Without warning, a shake ran through Clover and his left hand suddenly spasmed, the utensil he’d been holding falling right back in the soup, splattering the bedsheets.

They both stared down at it, then Qrow gave him a look. “Might want to work on finishing dinner first, pal.”

He’d kindly let Clover pretend the flush that rose to his cheeks was only from fever.

They watched sci-fi dramas all night.

Or, Qrow did at least. Clover kept dozing off every few minutes. It was never for long, because whatever dreams his feverish mind was conjuring kept jerking him awake, one time hard enough he accidentally kicked Qrow in the leg. It was during one of these fitful tosses that an arm landed on his stomach with enough impact to knock the wind from him.

“Oof!”

Clover startled, his eyes opening. After a few blearily blinks, he started to draw away. “Sorry, sorry-”

“It’s fine.” Qrow waved him down – it wasn’t like it had hurt – when something caught his eye. “Hey, wait.” Much to both their surprises, he caught Clover’s wrist, pulling the arm back towards him, staring intently on the marks he saw there. Raised, red bumps, starting at the joint and going down the length of his forearm. Like a rash almost.

They weren’t there before, were they?

“Does this hurt?” He asked, running a finger along the skin as lightly as he could. Hot to the touch, but hard to say if it was just from fever. “You’ve had the chicken pox, right?”

They didn’t look quite right for pox though. When his nieces had gotten it, their spots hadn’t turned the skin around them red and the blemish had covered the entire area of their body, not just patches. Still, he heard it was different for adults, almost dangerously so. He remembered Tai had quarantined him from the house, when Qrow revealed he had no idea if he’d ever caught it or not.

“Clover?” He asked as the silence stretched, glancing over at him to make sure he hadn’t drifted off again.

Wide green eyes stared back at him, the man only seeming to realize that he was waiting for something when their gazes met. “Oh, uh. No. I mean, yes. I mean – what was the question?”

That blush was also not from fever.

He may have felt proud, if Clover didn’t appear so out of it.

“You. Chicken pox. Had it?”

“Oh. Yeah, a’course. Hit all of us at once.” Qrow thought maybe he meant fellow classmates or siblings, until Clover added, mumbling the rest into his pillow. “Sister Lisa was so upset when she couldn’t take in anyone new at the sanctuary for almost a month.”

His brows furrowed. “Got a feeling you ain’t talking ‘bout a church sanctuary.”

“No.” He shifted onto his side. “I mean, Sister Lisa was religious, but the only reason she called the home that was because she thought orphan was an ugly word. She was right, in a way. Learned not to let bad labels define me – so I could thank her for that lesson at least.” He gave a half-hearted shrug, wincing when he did.

Which gave Qrow the out he needed to bypass the uncomfortable conversation. “You alright?”

“Ugh.” He grunted, rubbing a hand over the muscle and trying to roll out the ache. The movement only seemed to cause him more pain. “You know those dolls, where you can move all the limb parts?”

“Yeah.”

“I feel like some kid got ahold of a voodoo version of me and pulled them all off.”

He snorted. “Hate to tell ya, but it was probably one of my kids.”

“Well, when I find them, I’m court martialing them.” Clover grumbled.

The poor joke still won a laugh. That then won a yawn.

Which didn’t go unnoticed even by a man on the verge of death. “You should go. It’s probably late.”

“Yeah, it is.” Qrow conceded reluctantly. “What about your arm?”

He rose the splotchy appendage to eye level, reporting, “Well I won’t be entering any beauty pageants anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

“Clover-”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” He waved him off, curling further into his blanket cocoon. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Qrow regarded him skeptically, but ultimately didn’t pry. He knew what it was like, being mother-henned; and while Tai and Summer always meant well, it wasn’t always enough to combat the embarrassment that would often result from their good-hearted meddling. He wasn’t about to inflict that on his newfound friend that he maybe, kind of, liked.

A lot.

“Alright well,” He started as he finally slipped off the bed. “Try to feel better at least.”

“I will. I got all the luck in the world.”

Qrow gave him a look. “I’m going to let you get away with that smartassary only because you’re sick.”

“So kind and giving.” He joked. “And since you are, you’ll get the light, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He headed for the door, running his fingers down the dial that was next to it until the room darkened. As he stepped into the hall, he added. “Good night Clover.”

“Night. And thanks, for keeping me company.”

Qrow glanced back. The glow of the TV was just enough for him to catch the soft smile aimed his way that left his heart fluttering and his own mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, anytime.”

As he shut the door and headed for his own room, he pulled out his scroll to set his alarm clock back an extra twenty minutes. He was sure Clover would appreciate breakfast too, right?

There were many things Qrow was – a morning person was not one of them. Those who knew him were very aware if it was before 9 AM to not bother him until he’d had at least one cup of coffee. If it was spiked, wait until noon; or better yet, just pretend he didn’t exist on the mortal plane at all. How he’d ever managed to survive as a school teacher outside of just sheer willpower was completely beyond him.

So it was a rare feeling to be so chipper first thing in the morning, strolling through the halls with a spring in his step, no one around to see except for the robotic janitors tidying up for the day. As he hit the last leg to his destination, he checked his messages, not surprised to see Clover hadn’t responded. He probably wasn’t even up yet.

Which was why he had brought nothing that wouldn’t keep until he got up. The tray he was carrying only had a banana, a bowl with a ‘just add hot water’ oatmeal package sitting in it and a similarly bundled up cup with a lemon tea bag and a honey packet. He set it down next to the door, knocking a few times. “Clover! Breakfast is by the door!”

He waited, pressing his ear against the metal.

Not even a stir.

Well, he could always peek in on him from the window. For altruistic purposes only, he told himself as he headed for the fire escape. When no emergency was going on, the doors were kept locked to prevent students from hiding in there whenever they wanted to skip class – but James had long ago given Qrow the override code, because they were some of the only windows in the entire facility that had latches on them and the one place which had cameras only pointing at the stairwell entrances.

Not really a blind spot, unless becoming a bird was an option.

It wasn’t long before the icy wind was under his wings and he was circling the building. He knew he’d found the right room when he spotted the bamboo plant sitting at its place in front of the window. He landed on one of the panes just as he had the day before.

There was just enough light from the rising sun to stretch into the darkened room, spreading halfway across the lump laying in the bed. Though the plant was blocking Clover’s upper half, Qrow noticed how the blankets at the end of the bed were spilling down the side, probably kicked off from the same feverish fits that had bothered him during the evening. Qrow also spotted how the man’s left pant leg had rolled up, revealing the same rash he’d seen before was now spreading along the calf. He twittered anxiously, hopping to a higher pane to get a good look at the man’s face.

Red took up his vision like a blooming scarlet rose.

He hopped off with a squawk of panic, speeding back to the window. In his panic, he shifted too soon, grunting as his ribs collided with the sill, knees cracking against the wall outside. Ignoring the sting, he scrambled over, landing inside and taking the stairs two at a time until he was stumbling back out in the hallway. As he sprinted down it, he yanked out his scroll, hitting redial on one of the top recent contacts.

It felt like forever before James answered, voice thick with exhaustion, “Qrow? What are-”

He cut him off with a shout, “James! I need you to give me the code to Clover’s room, now!”

“What?” The general seemed to snap to attention, tone shifting from sleepy to alarmed. “Why? What’s happening?”

“He’s bleeding!” The vision filled his head again. Red, so much red, pooling around Clover’s head and soaking his pillow. Like he’d been stabbed. Or shot. The image was so jarring, he almost missed the door, skidding to a stop and slamming his fist against it. If only Harbinger wasn’t still back at his place, he wouldn’t have even bothered with the call. “Give me the damn code already! Hurry!”

Rather than a verbal response, there was a click from the panel and then the door flung open seemingly by itself.

Qrow didn’t question it, rushing inside. He put his scroll onto speaker mode before tossing it on the bed as he rounded it. He pulled down the blankets to check for other wounds while his other hand pressed against the man’s pulse point. Everything looked normal, though he spotted more of that rash outbreaking along his collarbone.

“There’s a medical team on the way. Qrow, talk to me. What are his vitals?” His friend called.

“Heartbeat’s too fast and irregular.” He replied, grateful for something to focus on. He shifted to Clover’s face and, this close, he realized the blood wasn’t quite as copious as his fearful mind had conjured up. There was splatters of it here and there, like blots of red ink, and a circular splotch surrounding the middle to lower half of the man’s face. “Not losing as much blood as I thought.”

“Where’s the wound?”

He squinted, seeing a lot of it congealed onto his upper lip and announced faintly, “It’s uh… it’s a nosebleed.”

He was allowed to feel a little foolish for about two seconds, before James spoke up, “Is he awake?”

“No.”

“That’s not normal. Clover’s a light sleeper, he should have woken up when you walked in.”

Qrow took that in, before he shook the man’s shoulder, softly at first then, when it failed to do anything, harder. “Clover? Hey, come on, get up.” The other man didn’t even seem to stir. “Nothing, he’s out cold.”

He heard James curse softly, the only sign of his own worry that he quickly stamped back down. “Breathing? Eyes?”

“Breathing’s labored, pretty raspy.” He gently pulled back an eyelid, seeing the pupil constrict as the light hit it. “But eyes are dilating.” That was good. That meant his mind was still working. He rested a hand along his chest, trying to feel if maybe fluid had built up in his lungs, only to frown when he noticed something else. “His heart’s not doing good James. It’s going way too fast. This can’t just be a sickness, right?”

“I don’t know.” He replied honestly. “But I’m forwarding this to the medical ward. They’ll know what to do.”

Qrow took a deep breath. “Okay. What else should I do?”

“Just stay with him. The team should be there soon to bring him down.” A pause. “And I’m right here too.”

Two emotions hit him in rapid succession. The first was relief, knowing he could count on James to keep him calm if Clover started to die right in front of him or something. The second was guilt. He’d spent so much time doubting James�� aims but, bullheaded methods aside, in the end, he was still a good man willing to look out for the people around him.

It made Qrow wonder how he’d ever jumped to the conclusions he had. Was he just becoming just like Oz? So suspicious of everyone around him, that he refused to trust anyone?

As he heard rapid footfalls coming down the hall, he made a silent vow to talk to Ruby after all this was over.

Throughout his travels, Qrow had met many people and, with a lifestyle like his, quite a few of those chance meetings were with folks in the medical profession. Yet, none of them quite matched the quick efficiency and brutal tongue-lashing of Dr. Callister. She was quite frankly a little intimidating, especially when after she was done commanding her staff to get this machine working or that test done, she whirled on him to grill him for all he was worth. And once he was done answering her questions, she promptly kicked him out of the room with sharp orders to stay out of her way or else.

That was why, when the General arrived, he found Qrow sulking outside in the hall like a delinquent waiting to be called in to the principal’s office.

“I see you’ve met Dr. Callister. She’s quite proficient, isn’t she?” James observed.

He did not at all appreciate the slight humor in his tone. “Woman’s a witch.” He pushed off from the wall, demanding, “And where have you been? It’s been, like, an hour!”

In answer, the man pulled out his scroll, the holo display showing a message having been received only minutes ago. “Updates take time and I had other arrangements to attend to, so I asked to be notified when something more concrete was known.”

He was tempted to call his friend out on turning a medical crisis into something he just ‘fit’ into his schedule, but the excited texts he’d been receiving from his nieces told him just what else his friend had been doing. “Like giving the kids the day off?”

“We don’t know whether Clover’s ailment is natural or not. Until we do, proper precautions aren’t ill-advised.” James replied.

Qrow frowned, mulling that over. Salem certainly would stand to gain a lot of headway by eliminating Clover, taking out the Ace-Op’s leader and James’ right hand in one fell swoop. It would completely shake the Atlas inner circle with an equal devastation to knocking down a load-bearing wall in a building. Yet, even if that was her aim, it didn’t really add up. If she had that kind of power, why stop at Clover? Why not just take out the headmaster himself? Or better yet, all of them?

He didn’t get a chance to broach his thoughts before the door was sliding open and the good doctor came marching out.

“Ah, Anora! So lovely to-”

“Don’t you Anora me, James.” She cut him off as she came to stand before him, her eyes ablaze. “Would you care to tell me why I was not properly informed of Captain Ebi’s condition sooner?”

“I, uh, well-”

Wow. And he thought Glynda was the only one who could strike James speechless.

“More importantly,” She continued on as if her commanding officer wasn’t even speaking, “Why was he allowed to go untreated six weeks ago?”

That drew the General to attention, a severe look crossing over his features. “He informed me he had gone to see you.”

“And yet, you failed to verify that with me?”

Having heard just about enough, Qrow cut in sharply, “Hey doc, if you didn’t happen to notice, the General’s been a bit busy handling – oh, I don’t know. Everything.” He waved a hand dismissively. “So the boy scout missed a doctor’s appointment, what’s the big deal?”

He kind of regret speaking when she whirled on him. “The big deal is Mr.-?”

“Qrow.”

“Mr. Qrow,” She continued without missing a beat, “Is that Clover is notorious for ignoring his own health needs to a near foolhardy degree. The General here is quite aware of that fact, and is supposed to inform me whenever I am to expect him in my office so that we assure he doesn’t skip it.”

He snorted. That sounded ridiculous. “What? Is he afraid of needles or something?”

“I believe we’re getting off track.” James intervened hurriedly. “Anora, what is Clover’s status?”

Oh. Qrow realized, side-eyeing his friend. There was something he didn’t want him to know.

His attention fell back to the doctor as she spoke up. “Currently stable. We’re managed to bring him back to consciousness, though he’s very disoriented and weak. It’s one of the most severe cases of Rheumatic fever I’ve ever seen.”

The only indication he had that whatever had just been said was bad was in the way James tensed up beside him.

“Uh, hey doc?” Qrow rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “Mind explaining that for those of us less cognitively gifted?”

By gods, the woman could smile. “It’s a disease that can develop when strep throat goes untreated. You recall informing me that Clover had expressed to you he’d been ill a few weeks ago as well, yes?”

“Yeah?” He also remembered the way Dr. Callister’s eyes had lit up in sudden realization over what he had believed to be entirely useless information.

“Well, six weeks ago, I also just happened to be dealing with a rather rampant number of cases of strep throat among the facility and students. Not unusual, it’s a highly contagious infection. But it can only be properly treated with antibiotics. Clover was among the ones afflicted, but because he failed to seek treatment, it resulted in a new complication.”

He frowned, not liking where this was going. “This Rue-fever thing?”

“Precisely. Everything you’d listed out matched up.” She rose a hand, ticking the fingers off as she listed them, “Fever. Rashes. Joint pain. Jerky movements. Nosebleeds. So, I had my staff do a throat swab, and we got a positive on the streptococcus bacteria. I’ve already got him on the first dose antibiotics.”

“That’s good then, right? Pop a few pills and he’ll be good as new.”

James was the one to speak up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s… not so simple. Rheumatic fever damages the heart.”

He didn’t need to have a doctorate to know that was bad. “Wait, what?! So he was having a heart attack?”

The doctor shook her head. “Nothing quite so dramatic; at least, not right now. Though, the tissue decay can weaken the valves or muscle itself and that can cause future issues. Rest assured, we’re monitoring it closely and if further treatment is needed or even surgery-”

Surgery?!

“-He’ll be in the best of care.”

Qrow felt like the whole world had shaken underneath him.

However, James, whose own heart was nothing more than metal and oil, merely nodded. “I know he will be Anora. Thank you for all your hard work.”

“As much as the flattery is appreciated, you’ll find it will get you nowhere.” She said, donning her rough exterior once more. “I am going to make it very clear this cannot happen again. So, I don’t know what sense you need to knock into that boy, but do it.”

“I… will discuss it with him.”

“See that you do. And give this one a raise.” She waved vaguely in Qrow’s direction. “Clover certainly would have been worse off had he not been around.”

He blinked. Now that was a sentence he never thought he’d hear.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have my duties to attend to. I’ll inform you of any updates and when he’s ready for visitors.”

Without further ado, the woman about-faced, heading back to her office without so much as a dismissal. In the silence left in her wake, Qrow could only find one word to accurately describe the whole situation.

“Fuck.”

“Indeed.”

He glanced over at James, seeing the man sag some as he allowed himself to feel the weight of the world for a minute. Strangely, he was reminded of Oz; airing on an infallible image to most, but in private and trusted company, allowed for some of the cracks to show.

“Hey,” He reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You know this isn’t on you, right?”

A sigh. “The wellbeing of my team should always be a top priority. I should have known better.”

“You still can’t expect to control anyone’s choices. Clover was the one who decided.” And almost died for it, Qrow thought but didn’t add. “What’s his deal anyways? He’s not actually needle-phobic, is he?”

James chuckled softly. “No. And I’m afraid that’s not something I’m at liberty to share freely. Although…” He eyed him over thoughtfully. “You two have certainly grown close.”

“Uh, I wouldn’t say that.” He shifted away to lean back against the wall. “I mean, sure I guess we’ve talked a lot but, well, those rides to Amity are long and boring is all.”

“Qrow, in all the years I have known him, Clover has never been open to sharing with anyone when he’s ill.”

He knew what James was trying to imply, but the feeling of being ‘special’ to someone was so foreign it just felt uncomfortable to fathom. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like he’d come across that knowledge honestly. He slid down a bit, crossing his arms. “Was probably just the fever getting to his head.”

“I suppose anything’s possible.” He hummed. “I really must get back, but I’ll keep you updated on his condition.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“And Qrow?” The knowing look James shot him was more powerful than one from his revolver. “If you want to know for sure, I suggest you ask him yourself.”

As his friend retreated down the hall, Qrow was left wondering if he’d been talking about Clover’s strange phobia or his feelings for him.

His chance came 36 hours later. He was just dragging his feet through the doorway of the academy after a rather brutal series of Grimm extraction missions, when a ping on his scroll alerted him to the news.

Clover’s awake and doing well. Already gone to visit. He’s in room 7A.

He glanced up from James’ message, calling, “You kids go on ahead. I got something to take care of.”

“But Uncle Qrow!” Ruby said as she bounced on her heels, still hyped up on adrenalin. “Oscar says they have strawberry cake in the mess hall!”

“Save me a piece.” He waved over his shoulder as he headed down the hall. Faintly, he thought he may have heard Weiss’ muttering that she’d make no such promise if Nora arrived. He chuckled, certain his waistline wouldn’t miss the 60 grams of sugar.

Besides, Qrow found his appetite mysteriously disappearing as he approached the medical wing. He followed the directions given to him by the receptionist to room 7A, pausing outside the door in a panic as he wondered if maybe he should have brought something. Didn’t people usually buy gifts or flowers? Desperately, he snatched up the first thing he could spot – a handful of fake begonias sitting in a vase on a utility cart, before he made his way inside.

Streamlined for efficiency, the small room offered little beyond a window to look out at the night sky, a closet-sized bathroom, and a corner-mounted TV. The rest of the space was filled with the necessities every hospital seemed to have: a series of machines placed around or mounted onto walls, various jarred items like swabs and cotton balls organized on a counter, an IV stand, and a wheel-around bed. Which, of course, held only one occupant.

Clover was resting on his back, in nothing but a light green hospital gown that, oddly, seemed to suit him. Wires ran underneath the fabric and the steady beep that filled the air gave away where they were attached to. One arm had a steady IV drip going through it, but the other he had hovering above his face. His fingers were jerking about in such a manner it almost made him look possessed. So intent on what he was doing, he hadn’t even noticed he had a guest, until Qrow finally announced his presence.

“Trying to puppeteer your face?”

“Oh!” Clover started, head swiveling about, a brief jump to the heart monitor giving away his startlement. “Qrow! I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”

“No one ever is.” He crossed over to plop into the only chair in the room. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. I’m great!” He said a little too quickly as he sat up with some effort. “Just have a lingering pins and needles effect in my arms and legs, but Dr. Callister says that’s normal.”

That explained the weird voodoo motions.

Before he could think to pry, Clover pointed down at the flowers, asking, “Are those for me?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Here!” Qrow practically shoved the bouquet in his face. “Get well and all that.”

Those unfairly fetching green eyes peered at him over the pale pink blossoms before reaching up to take them. “Thanks.” He brought them close, as if to smell them, only to pause in confusion. “They’re… fake?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, struggling for a plausible excuse that wasn’t ‘I stole them’. “Well yeah, I wasn’t sure if you were allergic so I, um…”

“Hedged your bets?” Clover supplied with a grin.

“Hah. Funny.” He made a mental note to never leave him, Tai and Yang in a room together. They’d probably have a pun off.

Chuckling, Clover dropped the flowers into his lap. “Well, it was very thoughtful.” He heaved a long sigh, resting back against his pillows. Despite all his assurances, he already looked exhausted.

Like the night before. Qrow took the easy out as he looked around the room. “Hey why don’t we try to finish up that season of Border Control? They were just about to unravel that cipher in the diary and – oh, there’s the remote.” He stretched his arm to reach the little stand by the bed, plucking the device from the plastic organizer it was housed in. He took note that it was filled with a few of Clover’s personal items, like his pin. As he pulled it back, the remote snagged the corner of it, tipping it over and spilling the contents across the table and floor. “Ah, shit!”

He overturned his own chair as he dove across the floor to catch the man’s scroll as it skidded over the edge. A second later, he was dinged on the head by the stupid pin and then the plastic organizer. He grumbled, rubbing his head in irritation as he picked himself up off the floor and started to put everything back together.

Clover still must have been delirious, because for some reason he found the whole thing hilarious.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Yuk it up hyena.”

He reached down to pick up a piece of paper that had been pushed off by everything else. The Atlas military insignia caught his eye. Try as he might, it was hard to miss the gigantic, scripted header, bolded for emphasis. He sucked in a breath as the words sunk in:

Letter of Reprimand

The room had gone quiet.

Beyond sneaking a peek at the familiar signature at the bottom, he didn’t dare delve into the paragraphs, merely setting it aside with a scoff. “Can’t believe Jimmy gave you a warning while you’re still recovering.”

“Yes, well,” Cover idly fiddled with the stem of one of the flowers, gaze distant. “It’s not anything I didn’t earn.”

“How so?” He asked, feigning ignorance as he righted the chair and sat back down.

“Remember when I told you I was sick a few weeks ago? Well that and this are related. And I maybe, kind of, didn’t show when the General ordered me to get checked out.”

Qrow lent forward, scanning his face as he asked, “You, boy scout? Disobeying an order? I don’t believe it. What could possibly get you to do that?”

For the first time since they’d met, he saw the easygoing attitude the man wore like a shield crack as Clover ran a hand over his face, his sigh bordering frustration. “I just – It’s really ridiculous. But I feel guilty, coming here.”

He blinked.

That was not at all what he had expected.

“Why?” When his question was only met with tentative silence, he backtracked, “I mean – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be prying into your personal business. You don’t have to tell me.”

Clover shook his head. “It’s not that. I just, it’s really dumb, Qrow. You’re going to think I’m a moron.”

“Okay, let’s shake on it.” He held out a hand.

The soldier looked at it, then him, curiously.

“If it’s as dumb as you say it is, then I’ll tell you something stupid I’ve done in my life. Fair?”

Being a spy for as many years as he had had taught Qrow the unconscious skill of getting people to talk when his bird form wasn’t enough to get what he needed. Oftentimes, that involved getting people into a position where they both felt comfortable and loose, but not vulnerable. Bars tended to create that atmosphere quickly, and loosen the tongue twice as fast.

But sometimes, he reminded himself as Clover grasped his hand, his methods were more honest than others.

“Okay. Deal.” As he drew back, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, before finally saying, “Do you remember yesterday, when I told you about the sanctuary? Truth is, that was my home. It wasn’t terrible, or anything. We had beds and food and an okay school system. But…” His gaze dropped back to the flowers, rubbing the petals between his fingers.

A nervous habit, Qrow realized. Maybe that was why he wore so many trinkets.

“But?” He finally pushed as the quiet drew on.

“They… weren’t well funded back then, if I’m being completely honest. Especially the ones in Mantle. A lot of our furniture was rickety or uncomfortable. Almost every toy was broken. And I don’t think my clothes ever fit properly until I made it to the academy.” Clover grimaced. “I mean! Things are way better now, of course. James convinced the council years ago to shift the budget. Though, I may or may not have given him a… gentle suggestion on that.” He didn’t seem so hard up on this fact, puffing out in pride. It was kind of adorable. “I went by the old place a year ago. It’s all fixed up with new paint and everything! Even some playground equipment.”

“But that’s why you feel guilty coming here, because it’s too expensive?” He guessed, trying to work with the weaves of information he was being given. But something still didn’t feel quite right.

The way the other’s smile shifted tensely told him that feeling was spot on. “No. I mean, we didn’t have regular doctor’s appointments or anything, but Sister Lisa really did try her best to make sure we stayed healthy.” His hand clenched around a blossom. “Everyone except me.”

A terrible, sinking feeling filled him as the missing piece fell into place.

Qrow breathed out slow. “When did you find out you had a good luck semblance, Clover?”

“I’ve had it as long as I can remember.” His whole body slumped, like he’d finally lifted off a great weight and could finally relax. “I knew you’d understand.”

He did – or at least, he was starting to. There were a lot of textual accounts of kids, even toddlers, inadvertently unlocking semblances when under duress. Orphans were often the number one case of this particular phenomenon, as over half of them found their way into the system after Grimm attacks.

Qrow had been ironically lucky. His own semblance had come about when he was a teenager. He wasn’t entirely sure he would have survived his childhood had he found out sooner. But he remembered how easily he became the black sheep to his people. Every little thing that went wrong was suddenly his fault and any instance of someone falling ill was on him. Those events had still left their scars and misgivings, things that went deep and were hard to undo and some days all he could tell himself was that sometimes, bad things just happened.

Clover was the case of what one would do with someone with the opposite of that ability and discovered it young.

“So, when you’d get ill, your caretaker decided your luck was enough to keep you well. I’d bet you got in trouble if you even tried to take something for yourself too.” He surmised.

“Basically, yeah.” Sheepishly, he rubbed the side of his neck. “Told you it was stupid.”

He pressed his lips together, a protective anger spilling the words out in a heated rush, “I wouldn’t call it that. But I would call it child abuse.”

Sharp as it was, Clover didn’t flinch back. “Yeah. Yeah it was. But that’s not what I meant.” He rose his head, finally meeting his eyes. “Did you know I got my first and second demerit because I wouldn’t go to the regular checkups Atlas academy students are required to be present for? And, the first time I got sick when I actually had some money to blow, I went out and bought some aspirin. But I felt so awful for doing it, thinking I was taking it from someone who needed it, that I slipped it into some other kid’s bag.”

“But Clover, that’s-” Qrow tried, but Clover wasn’t done as he gestured wildly to the room around them.

“Even this place! I almost died, yet the longer I sit here the worse off I feel because I can’t stop thinking: what if someone else needs it more? It’s pathetic!” He pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, tugging at his hair. “I’m thirty-nine year’s old! I should be over this. But I can’t-”

He never found out what Clover couldn’t do, because, without even thinking it entirely through, Qrow had reached out, grasping his other hand in both of his. “Hey, stop. Breathe for a second, okay?”

“But I-”

“Breathe, boy scout.” When it seemed the other was taking his advice, he lessened his iron grip some, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “Now look, I might not know everything, but I sure as heck know this – you’re not less of a person just because you can’t get past a bad experience.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I should know. I got about half a dozen of those hang-ups.”

The side of Clover’s mouth twitched upwards. “Like accepting compliments.”

Well. He supposed it was only fair. “More like accepting praise. When I was a teenager, the people I was around sometimes literally beat the idea into me that I couldn’t do anything right, until I just thought that was the truth. It was so bad, that by the time I got to Beacon, being told I’d done a good job actually caused me to have these weird anxiety fits.”

Their grips changed, Clover now the one holding his hand.

“It took years of reconditioning to break that response and even now, I sometimes still struggle with accepting praise of any kind.” Qrow scanned the other’s face, reading nothing there but sympathy. “So yeah, some things are hard to get over, especially if it was caused by something that was supposed to make you special.”

It was almost funny to think that there was once a time he’d been excited to discover he had a semblance and what it was.

Clover sighed, head drooping. “What if I can’t ever get over it?”

“Then all you can do is learn to deal with it best you can. Just know that that’s okay.”

There was a long moment as he seemed to take that in, before finally saying, “Yeah, I’ll try to remember that. And…” He looked up. “Thanks, for listening.”

“Thanks for trusting me.” He replied, unconsciously squeezing his grip.

As one, they looked down at where their hands were joined.

Also as one, they both jerked away, faces flaming up.

“O-Oh, sorry I was just-”

“I didn’t mean to-”

Their voices stumbled together, only for them both to pause at the same moment, staring.

Then the room steadily filled with the combined sound of their embarrassed laughter, Clover trying to stifle his behind his hand while Qrow rubbed the back of his neck.

“Man, what a day right?” He was the first to say.

Clover’s smile was soft. “A surprisingly good one.”

“You’ve spent half of it unconscious so… yeah I guess it would be for you.”

He tossed a flower at him. “Oh stop. Come on, let’s watch that episode already.”

“Gladly.” This time Qrow got the remote without incident. He shifted his chair around to face the TV, placing it closer to the bed. As he started to scour through the listings for their show, he couldn’t help but say, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Why trust me? This whole thing seems like something you’d rather keep under wraps and it’s not like we’ve known each other that long. For all you know, I’m gonna go blab this to everyone who frequents the water cooler.” He tilted his head back, asking again, “So, why me?”

Clover merely arched a brow. “Because we’re partners, aren’t we?”

“Doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”

“True.” He conceded. “But I have to trust you with way more on the field than I do with my personal life. Isn’t that why you told me what your semblance was?”

Qrow faltered, dropping his gaze to the tiled floor. “I just wanted you to be on guard when around me.”

“It was still hard for you, right?”

“Sure but still, what you told me wasn’t relevant to the job.”

“Neither was your sobriety.” Was the cheeky reply. “Yet, it’s all relevant to our relationship. I want to get closer to you Qrow.”

Oh. He flushed a bit, averting his face to hide the silly grin he could feel on his face.

“That’s not gonna happen if I don’t trust you. Sure, maybe you might go telling my secrets to the world, but if I don’t risk them, then nothing will ever go anywhere. And at its core, isn’t that what trust is? A risk.” Those words made him look up, the sincerity in Clover’s smile making his heart jump. “So… you willing to risk it with me?”

Was he? It had been a long time since he’d taken that step with anyone.

Yet as their gazes met once more, the fears that normally held him back seemed to crumble so easily in the wake of those kind teal eyes, guiding him in like a gentle ocean tide.

“Yeah.” He finally said. “I think I am.”

It wasn’t the only one he decided then and there it was time to take.

The next morning, Qrow strolled into Jimmy’s office, Ruby and Oscar at his heels.

The General had his head buried in a holographic replica of Amity Tower, scouring over the progress data – but at their entrance, he minimized the diagram, getting to his feet. “Ah, good morning. What brings you three here?”

Gut twisting with nerves, he paused at the foot of the stairs, looking between the kids that flanked either side of him.

Ruby smiled.

Oscar nodded.

He took a breath, then faced the man head on.

“Hey James. We gotta talk.”

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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spacejunk-tm · 6 years ago

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Idk why but for the last few days I have been thinking about how smart Izuku actually is and how he probably could have made it even without OFA. I mean, the kid made it through the first two stages of the sport festival even without using his quirk.. that's pretty impressive. So.. I know it sounds stupid but could you write something about deku's intelligence? Idk a meta, some HCs, a mini fic.. whatever you like! I just want to see my boy being appreciated for his brain and skills! Thank you❤️

Hi! Let’s talk about Izuku Midoriya’s intelligence.

Now, in this ask you mention how Midoriya could’ve made it without OFA and I agree with you. Midoriya is highly characteristic and rather good at making the best of everything. OFA doesn’t require a high intelligence (actually, All Might nearly picked Mirio who canonically doesn’t score very high on tests and other exams and isn’t incredibly intelligent) so I’m going to very quickly dismiss other theories I’ve seen in the fandom where OFA somehow granted Midoriya his intelligence.

I’ve talked before about Bakugou’s intelligence and how it started at home. Like most people, Midoriya’s started at home. ( I still don’t have any of my notes from watching/reading BNHA so bear with me please)

Midoriya’s home we know has stayed almost entirely the same since he was very young. Him being childhood friends with Bakugou because of proximity alone tells me that Midoriya hasn’t gone very far and that his homelife hasn’t really changed in what would be Midoriya’s memory.

This is the very first image we get of Midoriya’s home and mother (Inko Midoriya.) Inko is shown being a very empathetic, loving, caring mother. She is shown always alone (no father is ever really mentioned in Midoriya’s memory, his father’s name itself is a joke that basically means “he’s really far away”) and she is often shown simply supporting whatever Midoriya is doing...

Inko is a lovely, lovely person but she is not very smart. She is shown having about an average intelligence. What you’d find out of an average person. She has an above average empathy capacity and is very loving and lovely. But she’s not very smart.

Which plays a lot into how Midoriya uses his own intelligence. Unlike Bakugou, Momo, or Todoroki, Midoriya did not grow up in an environment that enriched what natural potential he had. He is never shown growing up in a place that truly valued his intelligence as a natural talent.

This was highlighted to me actually in the display of another character’s intelligence: Bakugou’s.

I’ve said this before but I firmly believe that Bakugou continuously thought that Midoriya was on an equal playing field with him until the world pushed Midoriya down (and enforced Bakugou pushing Midoriya down) enough to the point where Bakugou got very angry with Midoriya for not keeping up despite said pushing down.

This plays right into the idea that Inko isn’t very smart. Bakugou’s parents were teaching him to read or at least showing him pages of books/things to read at a very young age. Inko wasn’t doing that. It isn’t shown in this panel but it’s clear in the montage that Midoriya could not read when Bakugou could despite that I believe Midoriya had the potential to. They went to the same school, had the same teachers, it leads me to believe that the only thing that separated them was the intelligence of their parents/the richness of their environments.

This all seems really insignificant but, like Bakugou, everything that happened to Midoriya caused Midoriya’s intelligence to shape around that. Midoriya doesn’t have the connections that Bakugou had, he doesn’t have the same type of intelligence on its face. However, through imitation, Midoriya can get that kind of intelligence. He can get that thought-pattern. And that’s not easy to do.

Midoriya has what I like to refer to as a compilation intelligence. He’s smart but he doesn’t know the book-talk. Everything that Midoriya does is out of an imitation of someone else (typically Bakugou or All Might).

He uses his intelligence as a means to an end, he has a lot of emotional intelligence (likely the main thing that Inko gave him unknowingly) but not a lot of “practical” intelligence. This is kinda what makes him a disaster.

For those that don’t recognize, this is the U.A. Sports Festival’s end of the first challenge. The end of the obstacle race where Midoriya straps himself to a piece of scrap metal he picked up after the robots were destroyed and kept with him, he uses the piece to propel himself off of a bomb to get ahead of Bakugou and Todoroki (and to win first place.)

This is by far the best example of Midoriya’s intelligence and how it shines. It’s a disaster. It’s messy. It shouldn’t work. It’s crazy. If we were not aware who Midoriya was, he’d look outright like a madman.

Re-read what I said: he strapped himself to a piece of metal and then set off a bunch of bombs beneath him to travel a few dozen meters.

That’s mad! Entirely outta nowhere, beyond rationality. I get that Horikoshi goes a bit wishywashy on physics but this is flat out crazy.

But it’s a great display of Midoriya’s intelligence. He prepares, he keeps things that might be useful later on (there was no way to know what laid ahead but he just picked up a big, heavy piece of metal for the hell of it.) This is learned from what wasn’t given to him and what was. The Midoriya’s were clearly not well-off, they were stable but they weren’t rich. Anyone that’s lived paycheck-to-paycheck kinda knows that there is a sense of “gotta hang onto that” that comes with it, this makes the most out of Midoriya’s resourcefulness as a person.

He is shown repeatedly hanging onto things and doing things he didn’t need to do just because he thought he might need them later. The idea of foresight is like an after thought to Midoriya. Everyone else is focusing on the current challenge and Midoriya is already three stages ahead and aware that he’s running in blind but he’s gonna grab a slab of metal because it might be handy.

This foresight is amazing to his intelligence, it allows him to one-up nearly everyone time and time again. He predicts others movements by putting foresight and a high amount of empathy and personality analysis (the notebooks) together. He predicts Mirio’s movements before anyone else is even aware what Mirio was even doing. Midoriya nearly landed a punch on the liquid man.

Midoriya’s intelligence is messy, it isn’t refined in the slightest. His ability to foresee obstacle and prepare is what keeps saving him. The ability to empathize with others and become apt to anyone (adjusting from the best people in the world to the worst in a few seconds isn’t easy) keeps saving him. It is the saving grace of his intelligence and it will continue to be.

It’s his strong suit. OFA didn’t give any of this to him, Midoriya would have had all of this without OFA.

Midoriya’s intelligence revolves around people. It revolves around the long-term use of things rather than an immediate and situational intelligence. However, this can often lead to disaster in the moment and can be dangerous because he isn’t paying attention to said moment. He adjusts very quickly to people and is able to hand out a lot of advice. This isn’t so easy and it requires a lot of fine-tuning that Midoriya isn’t very aware of.

It’s a slow intelligence, it stains very, very slowly but it’s much harder to wash out. You don’t notice it creeping up until you sit back and you’re like “holy shit, he just used a slab of metal and some tiny land mines stacked together to propel himself up and over the competition.” This intelligence is highly useful in what Midoriya is going into but it’s also very dangerous and messy. The show does a good job of showing just how messy it can be and convincing the reader that Midoriya isn’t partly crazy for using his intelligence as he does (though, a lot of smart people can seem kinda crazy if you don’t take them as a whole.)

Midoriya is great, he’s brilliant, truly. I don’t have the best grip of his intelligence but this is my understanding of where it comes from and how it works. It works by the idea of “What will be next” and he is often caught thinking “what’s going to happen next”. It plays into his empathy well and I think it’s pretty well done. It will continue to be refined again and again to shape to the mold he needs it to be. I don’t think he’ll ever lose the “slightly crazy” aspect of his intelligence (the guy is willing to break his own bones, he doesn’t have a huge sense of self-preservation) so he’ll always be a little out there and his intelligence will sneak up on people. Which can be good! Villains will underestimate him

#asks #meta #analysis #midoriya #i did this in one go i hope it makes sense #but i am SICK of people not giving mido credit for being SMART #OFA did not give him a high IQ he had that shit naturally #but he is kinda a slow learner because he isn't what a lot of people might call 'sophisticated'#he doesn't have the fine lines and the book smarts and things like that #he's just kinda out there doing his best #a sort of 'practical intelligence' that is far more practical in the real world #which makes him a great protag #i'm always up for appreciating midoriya #especially since im not as confident with his character as i am with bakugou #but i had a huge leg up on bakugou #midoriya is slightly newer to me lol #anyway!#i hope this fed you some good Midoriya Appreciation

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yourdreamscenarios · 6 years ago

Text

The Teacher Student Marriage I Part 1

Characters: Baekhyun / OC Genre: teacher-student AU Word count: 3,541

The pillow felt comfortable underneath your head and you were sure that you were drooling on it. But you were too caught up in your wonderful dream to give a damn about it and you just continued to sleep the morning away without a single care of the world. Being a high school student could be tiring, exhausting even, handling all the drama that was going on around you and everything that had to do with it. You were eighteen, and your last year of high school was about to start, the wonderful senior year which everyone always talked about as the best year in a whole school career. From this year on you would be an adult, responsible for yourself and your own rights. “_____________!” Someone screamed your name loudly over the sounds of the handsome guy talking to you in your dream, and you furred your eyebrows as you tried to block the voice out. You didn’t have to think very long to know who it was that was trying to wake you up, it could only be one person.

You had moved into a dorm as soon as you had had the chance to escape from your parents, the less time you had to spend with them to better. The relationship between you and your parents had never been very good, especially between you and your mother. Sometimes you felt the need to pull out her hair, but that was the child inside of you that was trying to make its way to the surface. You knew very well that your mother would only hate you even more if you would make her bald, but the image was just something that always made you feel better when the two of you would get in the middle of a fight again. Elena was your room mate, and beside that she was probably also your best friend. She was the person you told everything to, from the latest gossips to your biggest secrets. You two were inseparable, you never kept anything from her.

“Get your lazy ass out of bed, we have to leave or we’ll both be late. There’s no way I’m going to get my butt kicked because you’re dreaming about some hottie in your bed and you won’t get up.” She continued and your groaned, wishing that you could do something to silence her, at least for the next five minutes, that was all you needed. The least she should owe you was the time to make a beautiful ending to this dream, like a kiss or something. Her voice was loud enough to wake up an entire army if she wanted to, but if it was up to you than you still preferred her voice over your alarm, because that was even worse. It wasn’t the first time that the two of you had been late because you had been too dreadful to get up in the morning. The thing was just that you weren’t a morning person at all, you would get grumpy and unpleasant if you had to wake up early, which was every day of the week except for the weekends.

It was just so hard to get out of bed, with a mattress that was shaped against all the curves of you body and a blanket that cuddled you in the perfect way. The person who had invented school hadn’t thought about this awful detail, probably because he hadn’t known how it had felt to do it himself, the bastard. Eventually you kicked your legs out of bed, feeling the cold air of your room hit your skin and make goosebumps appear on your skin. You had put the first step, now it was just a matter of pushing through. Elena was right, you had been in this situation many times before, so you had to get your ass out of bed before you would get her into trouble once more. You were the kind of friends that always went down together, so if you were late then she was too.

After finding the energy to get out of bed you stumbled over towards the bathroom so that you could get ready. It was winter, the season you hated the most, another reason why you hated to get outside during this time of the day. It was still dark outside, the sun was still hiding behind the dark clouds and the moon was shining down on the landscape. Seriously, it even still looked like night. You flickered on the lights and bumped into the sink because you were blinded by the strong light and were busy blinking your eyes together in horror. You hated mornings, you wished they could just be scratched from your daily routine. With a tiring sigh you forced your eyes back open and almost flinched visibly when your eyes fell on the reflection of the girl you saw in front of you in the mirror. Sometimes you wondered if there was a monster shielding underneath your skin, which only came to surface during these hours of the day. Red sleeping spots were covering the sides of your face and the skin of your arms, making you look as if you had some Infectious disease or something.

Your skin was looking a little bit pale without make up, but you still noticed some black smear of mascara covering the edge of your eye, as if you had forgotten to take some of it off last night. And your hair, god, it looked as if it couldn’t be tamed. It was pointing into all different kinds of directions and looked as if it hadn’t been brushed for days, it was a real bed head, as they called it. Thank god you hadn’t decided to sleep in today, you never would have been able to get finished on time. Where the hell were you supposed to begin in order to clean up the mess you had become just over a few hours? It seemed like it was going to take an eternity to fix yourself up, but you had exactly twenty minutes before Elena would start bumping her fists on the bathroom door and would tell you that you had to hurry up. As fast as you possibly could you reached out for your brush and combed it through your hair, feeling how the locks fell down your shoulders in smooth layers. The good thing was that at least you weren’t having a bad hair day, because then you would have been totally screwed. No time for curling irons right now.

While sticking the toothbrush inside of your mouth and almost forgetting the toothpaste on it you grabbed a hold of your mascara and tried to put it on with one hand without poking your own eye out. It was hard to be a woman, during moments like this you wished that you were born with three legs instead of two, maybe then your parents would have loved you more as well. You rinsed your mouth, cursed when the water dripped onto your shirt and created a few dark spots that looked as if they were caused by something very differently than some innocent liquid. Quickly you tossed it over your head and ran into your room again to look for something to wear. The only bad thing about the fact that your school didn’t have an uniform was that you actually had to pick out something decent to wear every morning. In the end you settled for a red sweater and some black ripped jeans, already knowing that you were going to regret that decision very soon.

Knowing you were running short in time you rushed towards your desk and pushed some random books inside of your bag, wishing that you were taking the right ones. In the best situation at least one of them would be useful in the end. You grabbed your phone from your nightstand and saw that no one had missed you over night, no texts or missed calls, that was good. You wiggled down the hall, almost bumped into the wall because you were hurrying too much and that would have caused you to get a broken nose, then you surely would have been late. When you got downstairs Elena was already waiting for you, her arms were crossed over her chest as she pulled up her eyebrows and stared at you. She was a beautiful girl, with long dark hair that fell like a curtain around a heart shaped face. Her smile was to die for and as soon as she would flash it to a guy then he was already lost.

“There you are! I swear to got, getting you out of bed is the hardest thing I have to do all day long. if we’re late then it’s your fault.” She said while you grabbed your coat and scarf from the hook and wrestled your way into them as you squeezed your eyes at her, those accusations of her were slowly starting to annoy you. She told you that every single morning, she had to think of something new to come up with. “If I remember this right then last time it was obviously your fault.” You started but she rolled her eyes at you before giving your back a push so that you started walking towards the door. You grinned at her sign of surrender and unknowingly tugged the scarf even tighter around your neck as you prepared yourself for the cold that was waiting for you on the other side of that door. You would do anything to stay here, inside, warm and cosy.

But you had made a deal with your parents before they had agreed with you that you could live here, which was that you wouldn’t skip school. A deep sigh left your lips as you opened the door and an icy wind cut straight through all the layers of clothing you were wearing. You shuddered, knowing that your body needed time to adjust itself since the change of temperature with inside was so big. The two of you always walked to school, since your dorm was so close to the school, it would be a waste of time to take the bus. Besides, it was always so full that you had to push and pull in order to get your small frame inside, you hated busses almost as much as you hated mornings. “Have you finished the homework for today?” Elena asked you as she came to walk beside you, to which you blinked your eyes, because honestly, you had no idea what she was talking about. She laughed loudly, her breath coming out in small clouds to which you smiled and shrugged your shoulders.

These walks to school were always one of your favorite parts of the day. It was the moment you and your best friend could have real conversations about things that were important to you, like guys and stuff. You kept yourselves busy with laughing, gossiping, sometimes you even spent it arguing. Elena was the complete opposite of you, if you were black than she was white, she was up and you were down. But that was alright, you two filled each other up and that was actually quite nice. You two always shared a different opinion about everything, it kept things interesting, though the good thing was that also meant that you had a different taste in guys, so at least you couldn’t fight over them. The two of you reached the school building and you took your pass out of your bag and held it up towards the guy who was standing at the gate. There was no way that he wasn’t freezing out here, you felt sorry for him that he had to stand here until the bell would ring.

Though there was a good reason why he was out here every single morning, scanning over your passes before nodding and letting you through. Which was that not just everyone was allowed to get into this building, because as others called it, this was the school for the spoiled, rich kids. All the fancy children of the rich families went to school here and the teachers were the best out of the best. Everyone who went to class here was expected to open their own company one day or to take over the family business. Your father owned a large company and had more than hundreds of people working for him, while he did nothing more than sitting on his ass all day and telling others what to do. Your mother didn’t do much, since your father made enough money to cover all of you and many more without her having to work. She usually kept herself busy with shopping, going out with friends, going to the hairdresser and fashion shows. Still she was seen as a very important woman, who worked her butt off ever since she had opened her own fashion line.

The past few months the contact between you and your parents had faded, and you only called each other when it was truly necessary. You just didn’t have a very close band with them, since when you had been a kid they had never been home and they had never been able to play with you or make time for you. Work and money had always been more important, and when you had been young you and felt hurt and pushed away because of it, but by now you were totally used to it. This was just how your life was, you didn’t know any better. They would sent you an amount of money each month and they would let you do with it whatever you wanted. If you needed more you just had to ask, and boom, they would transfer it to your acount. They wouldn’t even know if you were sitting behind a dumpster, dealing drugs, not that they would care. They were just lucky that you had never been a rebel, that you had always been a good girl with good friends who stayed on the right track. The last thing you wanted was to get cut off, because then how were you going to survive?

They were happy as long as you just asked money, and you didn’t start asking for them to give you attention or to spend time with you. You guessed this was their way of keeping you pleased and happy, so that they didn’t have to spend any more time with you than they actually had to. In some people’s eyes, you were a spoiled little brad who always got whatever she wanted without having to do anything for it. Well, they had no idea what they were talking about, so they better shut the hell up. Everything had a downside to it, for you that was that you had always been alone and that you had always had just yourself to relay on. Money couldn’t buy happiness, and you were one of the people who thought that statement was totally true. Elena and you entered the school building and you gratefully welcomed the warmth that came over you as you walked through the fancy looking halls which were covered by thousands of lockers against the walls.

It was one of the largest school in the city and there were so many students running through the halls that it was impossible for everyone to know everyone. Your eyes fell on a guy who was waiting by your locker, just like he usually did every single morning. It had kind of become your ritual, that the three of you would meet each other before classes would start. He was typing away on his phone while he was holding a cup of coffee in his other hand, his guitar was standing close to his feet. The boy had always been very interested in music and everything that made noise, and he was convinced that one day the whole world would scream his name while he would be performing on big stages. Sometimes you wondered if that guitar was glued against his skin, because those two were inseparable, everywhere Sehun went, that instrument went along. Though today there was definitely something off with him and you eyed your friend from the side, seeing that she grinned and had noticed the same thing as you had.

“Nice shirt dude.” You muttered as you reached him and you casually opened your locker so that you could dump your books inside of it. Sehun sniffed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and he leaned against the iron door next to yours. His eyes scanned over the two of you with an offended look on his face and you tried your hardest not to laugh with it. “My brother washed his pink shirt with my white laundry, the dumb ass. Now all my clothes have this horrible color, like they have been swallowed and puked out again by some gum chewer.” He explained as he grabbed the edge of the shirt and gave it a pull while he looked at it as if it was bewitched or something. Sehun and his younger brother didn’t get along at all. They would do anything to ruin each others mood, but it was always terribly funny to listen to their stories. It was a surprise that those two hadn’t murdered each other yet or that they hadn’t caused one of them to land in the hospital. Elena laughed beside you and Sehun rolled his eyes, annoyed by her reaction.

Sometimes he would truly act like a spoiled brad, but you loved the guy nevertheless. You focussed your attention on the inside of your locker and watched the big economy books that seemed to stare right back at you and the pictures that were glued against the sides. It looked like a very normal locker, like the one of every single teenager. Elena and Sehun were talking about some guy they had seen walking around the halls with an even weirder shirt on than him as your phone vibrated in the pocket of your black jeans. It was actually a good thing that someone was calling you now, it was a good reminder to let you know that you still had to shut your phone down before class would start. Elena eyed you from the side as you fished your cell out of your pockets and stared at the ID that lit up on your screen. You gritted your teeth together out of frustration and for a small second you thought about not answering it and letting it go straight to voicemail. Though you knew you couldn’t, she would keep calling you until you would eventually pick up, she would never give up.

With a big sigh you turned your back towards your friends to have some privacy and then you pressed the green button before pushing the IPhone against your ear, hoping that this wouldn’t take too much of your time. “What is it mom?” You two never greeted each other like normal people did, because if you called each other it was always to ask a favor, that was just how your family worked. “______________, how are you honey?” Yep, she definitely needed something, her voice was much too happy and the fact that she wanted to seem interested in how you were doing was just to make you think that she cared for you. If she thought that you were buying this then she was damn wrong, you weren’t up for playing games, it was time to get to business. “What do you want mom?” You asked instead of answering her question. She had to know that your first class was about to start soon, maybe that was her excuse so that this conversation didn’t have to last too long and she didn’t have to keep up her act.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re free tomorrow. We’re going to have lunch together and your father and I want to introduce you to someone. Make sure you dress nicely sweetheart, some cleavage would be good, maybe that short grey dress?” When she said that your eyebrows met in the middle of your forehead and you fought the urge to tell her that you already had plans for tomorrow noon. She never told you what to wear unless there was someone you had to impress, you already hated this lunch. “Sure, just text me the address and I’ll be there.” You muttered before ending the call, goodbyes didn’t need to be exchanged. Sehun and Elena were staring at you as you turned around to face them again and they both shot you a sympathetic look. They knew how horrible your mother could be from time to time and that she could make life very hard for you. “Do you want the rest of my coffee? You need it more than I do.” Sehun said and you took the cup that he held out for you before you all went to your first class together.

Part 2

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tenecity · 7 years ago

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from lovers to haters: xiao gui

from lovers to haters—a series where nine percent and you have the cliche, typical love story

cr @aestheticninepercent this was so good i had to add it in

au; bck with the hogwartss also the ages r messed up dbdkisjs

[AT THE START]

so we're bck with this hogwarts bullshit again bc they hve headgirls and headboys

and hey you

yes you

youre the headgirl!!

youre honoured but also kinda burderned i mean headgirl's gotta do alot of things you knw

like sorting out the schedules for prefects, prefect meetings, organising events and also sorting through detentions

which is what ure doing rn in the library

you flip thru the records and your eyes widen

god, how bad must this boy be?

his name literally appeared 10 times for this sem alone

1st; came late for class. 2nd; skipped class. 3rd; made out with a girl in the corridor inappropriate was written in bold red. 4th; called snape a twat ×1. 5th; called snape a twat ×2. 6th; snape is annoyed at his mere existence. 7th; moved the paintings. 8th......

and the list goes on

you shake your head

how can someone be so undisciplined and pay no heed to the school rules?

at this rate, he cld get expelled

"what are you looking at?" a kind, soothing voice snapped you out of ur thoughts.

you look up and smile at ziyi, the head boy.

"this person. xiao gui. you know him?" you point at the name neatly written on the paper.

ziyi nods, a smile playing on his lips.

"he's in trouble again i see." taking a seat next to you, he explains abt how he knws this brat. "he's my seatmate. not a bad guy,, just, he doesnt really pay attention to the rules."

you roll your eyes. not a bad guy? yea right. not paying attention to the school rules is a sign of rebellion, no discipline, no moral compass etc. you didnt like these kind of pple

its like they never rlly cared abt anyth, completely in their own world, selfish

like eg. moving the paintings changes the entire landscape and confuses them. it takes a lot of work to put them bck.

you frown, tasting sour in yr mouth. how could he hve done tt to those sweet paintings?

[SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN]

patrol time! bc thats where everyth happens

you patrolling with chengcheng, another prefect when you see a shadow slip down the corridor.

chengcheng saw it too but he is alr giving you the 'youre-older-you-do-it' look

so you sigh and despite yr fear of the dark, you bravely follow the shadow

right turn, left turn, left turn, right turn

where the hell is this person gg????

you find yrself in the garden at the most remote corners of hogwarts.

youve seen this one in the maps of the sch grounds but nvr did actl come here.

its beautiful. red roses give a vibrancy and seemingly glow under the moonlight, willows blowing softly, asleep. its tranquil.

until you see the mysterious shadow and you roll yr eyes, running through a list in your head on who this idiot could possibly be.

“wang linkai?”

the boy whips around and flashes you a grin and whoopsies heart attacc activated

“ah, gosh you got me scared shitless for a second head girl. thought you were snape or some cheeky ghost.” you roll yr eyes. what irony.

“what are you doing here?”

he points to a small, black kitten with the most kindest, chocolate eyes ever. “i’m feeding her?” he says it with a tone like he is talking to some dumb 5 year old and the crease on yr forehead deepens.

you squint at the cat, and by reflex, retract yr hands as it meows at you. you wrinkle your nose.

“what, you don’t like cats?”

“it’s more like, i don’t like people-who-break-the-school-rules because they make my life difficult” you send a retort back.

“go back to your dorm now, wang linkai, before i book you.”

he shrugs. “hey, this kitten got abandoned at hogsmeade. it had no one to take care of it so being a nice, kind soul,” he shoots your a glare,”i decided that i will take care of it. book me if you want, head girl. you probably already know i wouldnt care, considering my record.”

you puff out air. he’s right about that.

“yes, but you need to go back to the dorms now before someone else’s catches you and gives out a heavier punishment.” you try the ‘im pretending to care’ tactic.

“awh, the princess cares about me?” he says it mockingly as he strokes the kitten and carefully picks it up, hugging it close to his chest, eyes never leaving yours as they send you a challenging stare.

“im going to say it one last time, wang linkai. go, or else-”

“or else what, princess?” his eyes are gleaming and full of mischief. seeing how riled up you are, he slips past you so quickly, you couldn’t even hold him bck, taking in only the sweet scent that clings to his robes.

my heart goes boom boom boom

sending you one last grin, he slips back into the darkness.

you let out a breath you never knew you were holding

[AT THE END OF THE DAY]

turns out, ever since that day, you end up meeting him every night, in the garden, trying to convince him to go back to the dorms, but then fail miserably as you get entranced by his stubborn character.

he’s not a bad person. sure, he is stubborn, he is incredibly opinionated it is annoying, but he is sweet, kind, helpful and genuinely cares for his friends.

its hard to not admire such a person, especially when you are on the other side of the spectrum, finding it hard to always be selfless, sweet and kind and helpful.

“are you seriously scared of cats? of this adorable thing?” he says as he holds up the kitten and stuffs it into your face, eyes widened in mock surprise.

you frown and push away the kitten who only whines and grumpily retreats to the arms of his/her owner.

“i don’t like cats”

“why not?”

“because they are shady”

“no they are not”

“yes they are.”

“no”

“yes”

“oh shut up, why are we bickering over this?”

“because,” he says it matter-of-factly, “they are cute creatures.”

you roll your eyes as you pull your knees to your chest. “yea right.”

“dude, seriously-”

“why do you want to know so much?” you snap back. he reels back in shock, hands thrown up in surrender.

“why are you so riled up, princess?”

“don’t call me princess.” you mumble as you stand up.

a hand catches yours, fingers ghosting between the spaces of your own.

“im sorry if i made you uncomfortable.” he pulls himself up and looks at you in the eye, not covering up his remorse at all.

“its.... its fine. im sorry i snapped. i just, um, when i was younger,” you start as you walk towards a bench, linkai right at your tail.

“my parents were really famous, really good wizards. they did extremely well. head of the ministry. but they had a colleague who, um, was jealous of them. especially of my dad, because apparently, that guy loved my mother since she was a kid.”

you take a deep breath, and close your eyes, drinking in the gentle caresses on the back of your hand that are calming you down.

“he shape shifted into a cat. i thought the cat looked cute so i brought him home.”

“he burned down everything, he hexed my father, he strangled my mother and then burned himself to the ground.”

“he left me alive, saying he wanted our family blood to experience the hurt and pain he went through.” you breath out. only then do you realise that linkai is gently wiping the tears that have unknowingly flowed down your face.

“so yea,” you say as you wipe your own tears, eyelids fluttering open. “that’s why i hate cats.” you shyly look at him, wondering how he will react. he just nods, before giving a smile that doesnt quite meet his eyes.

“my turn to tell a story. do you want to know why i call you princess?”

you flush at his words, but reply anyway. “why?”

“because of this.” he presses his full lips against yours, gently molding them, kissing every part of your chapped lips.

you clench your hands as you drown yourself into his lips, mesmerised and entranced by his enchanting being.

his fingers find yours and slowly opens them, weaving his fingers with yours as he presses one last kiss on your forehead, before pulling away, blushing hard.

“so yea,” he softly says, head down. “that’s why i call you princess.” you laugh at how shy he is. so rare, so uncommon, so precious.

your lips find their way back on his as you breathe out “my prince”.

pt 2

#from haters to lovers #xiao gui #wang linkai #he needs to stay in his lane #someone tell him to stop being so cute iTS ANNOYING

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spicetdusk · 7 years ago

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Book ask: 1, 2, 4 and 11?

@any-shadow out here being a goddamn BRO, tagging me in ask memes (that I all have saved and will actually answer some day I s w e a r) and actually sending asks when I beg for attention lol. @ my other mutuals, y’all need to step it U P my good dudes!

1. Book you’ve reread the most times? Uhhh probably False Colors by Alex Beecroft. I haven’t read it in around a year now, but I used to read it as often as twice a year! So I’ve probably read it a good, I don’t know, 10-12 times? Hahahaha. If you have even the slightest interest in a historical gay romance set in the Age of Sail, I cannot recommend it enough! It was one of the first gay romances teenage me got my hands on, and I fell instantly in love. It’s very well written (if you’re terrified of it being a technical manual for 18th century sailing ships, I promise it’s not like that at all), heavy on the action/plot and light on the smut, and I just. Adore the characters so much. They try so hard but they’re just??? So gay and dumb??? Plz read it and make fun of- I mean love- them with me?!!

2. Top 5 books of all time?

Oh damn that is. So hard. In no particular order, because choosing five is hard enough do you really think I could rank them too I mean damn:

The aforementioned False Colors by Alex Beecroft.

18th century boat gays are idiots and trip over their feelings a lot and also adventures and sea battles!!

Wraethuthu, by Storm Constantine.

Holy shit, this book BLEW ME AWAY the first time I read it. Technically post apocalyptic but reads and feels like a fantasy. A hermaphroditic race of chaotic neutral disasters gets dragged kicking and screaming through a lot of real fucking hard life lessons. An epic in the truest sense of the word, in which a single person leads and shapes the destiny of their entire race. (Albeit unknowingly, because, you know. Disaster.) I can’t even begin to tell how strongly I feel about this book(s, it’s a series). They’re absolutely incredible. If you read it (or have read it), let me know! Please I’m b e g g i n g you none of my friends have read it and I need to talk about it so FUCKING bad skfjdhsjdjfns. @vampiraptor this is a call out because I swear to god this book was TAILOR MADE for your aesthetic r e a d i t.

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. LeGuin

Oh man this book. THIS BOOK. Lovingly cradles you in its arms of frankly stunning writing, world development, and deeply compelling characters, and then RIPS YOUR HEART OUT AND STOMPS ON IT. An ambassador is sent to convince a new planet to join an interplanetary coalition, and ends up going on a life changing field trip with one of the locals. Heyyy, the race on this planet is hermaphroditic too! Because fuck the gender binary. This book feels both deeply familiar and deeply strange. It’s not sad like it makes you want to cry, but it’s not exactly happy either. It feels like, what seeing the northern lights for the first time must feel like. Wonder-joy-loneliness-hope-loss-inevitability-awe-change-love. Look I make it sound idiotic okay it’s just that I am bad at feelings and this book makes me feel SO MANY THINGS.

Swordspoint, Ellen Kushner.

In the authors own words, “Bisexuals. With swords.” I could not possibly give a better description or more convincing argument! Some self destructive idiots fall in love (and stab a lot of people) and cause a lot of trouble (by stabbing people) and high society has a lot of Opinions (about stabbing but also other things like chocolate and backroom negotiations). Everyone is a walking talking hot bisexual mess it is GREAT. And the scheming and intrigue is not too convoluted for an oblivious dummy like me, which I appreciate wholeheartedly.

The Captive Prince Trilogy, C.S. Pacat.

Fuck you they are all one book in my head. Also it’s illegal to read just the first one because it ONLY works in the context of the trilogy as a whole and does not stand well on its own. That’s a real law I just looked it up myself, bitch. Anyway, hollllllyy fuck. I could barf emotions about this shit for DAYS. Giant moronic cream puff meets Very Angry Smol, adopts and p r o t e c c s. (“Hey Alyssa do you ever NOT have overwhelming feelings about Captive Prince??”NEVER I AM LITERALLY ALWAYS EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT.)Bar none, the absolute best enemies to friends to lovers I have ever seen. Incredible genuine, organic, and believable. Don’t believe what it sounds like, it’s not a creepy master/slave thing. Don’t trust the first book if you think it seems that way, it’s all just background and setup and it goes in a completely different direction immediately in the second book. Trust me on this okay. Give it a try and I think you’ll fall in love with it too. @vampiraptor can back me up on this, yo. She thought it would be weird and gross until she read it too, aaaand now we cry about how much we love it together ahahaha.

4. What sections of a bookstore do you browse? Generally the adult fantasy/sci-fi, sometimes the adult fiction and/or the young adult fantasy/sci-fi. But always the notebooks. A l w a y s.

11. What non-fiction books do you like if any? In general, I‘m not the type to pick out a nonfiction book for myself. But I’ve enjoyed or at the least found very interesting a lot of books I’ve had to read for classes and such…not that I can remember any specific ones now that I’m thinking about it, of course. Oh wait, yo, @honorthevanishing what was that sweet ass book on monster theory we kept reading excerpts from in DeMarco’s class??? That shit was rad as hell!

Well! That got long fast. Bless you if you read all that lol. I have a l o t of feelings about books can you tell???

(Please hit me up if you’ve read/are a fan of any of my faves p l e a s e I need to talk about them I am s t a r v i n g)

#I yell about books for approximately forever #sorry not sorry??#also I love the fuck out of ask memes I will literally ALWAYS be thrilled to answer questions ok #text

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crimsonrevolt · 7 years ago

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Congratulations Cassidy you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Orion Black!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Seeing old members return is always a blessing! And I know that Orion’s been deeply missed, so we’re extremely happy to see him back and to be able to watch you explore him further! Especially in regards to everything that’s happened with the Death Eaters since you left, it’ll be interesting to watch Orion find his place in amongst them, or if he’ll still be able to. Welcome home Cassidy!

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Cassidy, 23, she/her, Pacific Timezone, United States

ACTIVITY

6/10. I’m not in school anymore which allows me more time to write, but I’m still working 40+ hours a week. I’ll be able to get on at least once a day for a couple of hours to write replies.

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Originally, I found CRT through the ‘marauder era rp’ tag…I think…something of that variation.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

Hermione was always someone I looked up to as a kid. I was 12ish years old around the time I first started reading the books and by then there were at least a couple movies out. I was awkward and nerdy and just didn’t quite fit in anywhere. I guess that made me feel like Hermione and I were kind of alike, but the best part was watching her grow up and thinking “if she can do it so can i”. It sounds so embarrassing when I type it out, but oh well.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope, besides I missed the hell out of you guys!!!!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Orion Arcturus Black

FACE CLAIM

Jeffrey Dean Morgan

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

When I first joined, I had a hard time choosing between two or three characters, but every time I went back to Orion. I had never seen him in an RP before and if I had I don’t remember. In Harry Potter RPs, I always played a decently well known character, someone who already has an extensive backstory that is canon. We only know the basics when it comes to Orion; what kind of father he was (a shit one), he was Slytherin, very loyal to Voldemort, he’s got an older sister, and he married his second cousin. It’s not easy creating an entire life for a character while still remaining true to them, the rp, and to the HP series, but I love the challenge.

I also love the freedom it gives me as a writer and, to be honest, I’ve never been good at writing/roleplaying what is considered a good character. I’ve always played the bad guy, in different ways, but they’ve always been “bad”. What really made me fall in love with Orion is not the man he is today, but the boy he was before and the one he will be in the future.There is so much more to him than what meets the eye and I just want to tell his story while being apart of it. Even now, as I’m reapplying, and going through the other open characters just because, Orion is the only one I want. He’s my baby, haha.

Description/additional information:

Orion is a man who has always known his place in the world, where he stands and where he will stand. One of those roles is following in his father’s footsteps and making the House of Black proud by carrying on the heavy legacy across his shoulders and, at his insistence, his alone. The other role of his is being the Dark Lord’s loyal attack dog; he will do whatever it takes to make sure his Master wins this war. Orion received the dark mark in his twenties (24 to be exact, is that too early for Voldemort’s timeline? Idk, anyways) and has proved his allegiance time and time again.

He was born in the dark, but has always struggled with living in it. Growing up, he was conflicted on who he wanted to be and who his family expected him to be. He so desperately wanted to run away from all of the expectations and responsibilities of being Orion Black, but was too afraid to ever do it. So he disobeyed his parents in his own little secretive ways; stealing that third years leather jacket, dating a half-blooded Ravenclaw, becoming friends with kids his parents would’ve never allowed if they knew. Hogwarts was his home away from home, where he could be himself if only a little. After graduating, Orion made the decision to forget whatever silly dreams he may of had (he can’t remember them now) and followed in his father’s footsteps. After all, we all have to grow up sometime. He got a job at the Ministry, married Walburga, and started a family.

By now, Orion is a seasoned killer and struggles with keeping his demons at bay. Sleep eludes him and his paranoia only gets worse as the days go by. All he has ever known is this fight and he can’t imagine what life would be like after the war, nor can he imagine what the world may look like once it ends. After his time as an Aversio prisoner, Orion is trying to picture what Voldemort’s vision will mean for their world after the war and he is having a harder and harder time accepting it, though he has yet to realize this is what he is feeling.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Orion is a gentleman, but that often confuses him as a romantic which he is indeed not. He’s well-mannered just like any other high society wizard; just like how he was taught from a very young age and that is all. To him, romance, if anything, is just foreplay, the path to get into a woman’s pants.

Now when it comes to sex, Orion loves it. Even at the age of 49, he is like a 16 year old boy who can’t get enough of it. He wants to bang his wife, that young piece of ass sitting at the bar, and the secretary with the short skirts at the Ministry. He expects total submission, but loves a challenge. He gets off on the power struggle and it’s a rush for his ever growing ego.

Orion is male, straight, and uses the pronouns he/him.

Orion/Chemistry

Orion/Walburga

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

-A FEW HEADCANONS

Many believe Orion’s hatred for Sirius is because he willingly left the family and while that is true, it is not the whole truth. Like Sirius at his age, Orion dreamed about running away from the House of Black and creating a life of his own. One where he could make his own mistakes, make his own friends, create his own destiny. It is very clear Orion did not do this. It is very simple: Orion is jealous of his son for being able to do what he could not, though he would never admit it not even to himself.

In his mid 20s, Orion became an alcoholic not long after killing for the first time under Voldemort’s orders; it was a family of wizards, blood traitors. When in public he was able to hide his addiction well, being careful on how much he drank so he wouldn’t over do it especially at work. It helps he can also handle his alcohol very well. In the privacy of his own home, Orion did his best to keep it hidden from Regulus and Sirius, as Walburga already knew of the problem. But under his Death Eater mask, when Orion wasn’t Orion, he did not hold back. Blackouts and violent outbursts were very common when Orion drank enough and because of this he has been hospitalized three times. The last time was after he murdered a muggle family which made headlines in the muggle world. Voldemort gave him an ultimatum and he has been sober ever since. It’s been six years. The only time Orion has ever relapsed is when Sirius ran away.

Orion worked at the Ministry for nearly 30 years in the International Magical Office of Law as well as the International Confederation of Wizards. This position was particularly useful to Voldemort and Orion often used it to spread Death Eater and anti-muggle propaganda, all secretly of course. Before being captured by Aversio, it was well known that Orion was a purist and despised anyone who wasn’t pureblood, but it wasn’t known that he was a Death Eater. He retired in the fall of 1978, at the urging of Voldemort so Orion could fully dedicate himself to the cause.

As a Death Eater, Orion has given his life to the Dark Lord and has worked hard to make his army strong. In his younger days, Orion was one of the Death Eaters who interrogated and tortured their enemies. He was exceptionally good at breaking a persons mind, body and spirit, yet it unknowingly made his drinking worse and helped shape him into the man he is today; angry for no good reason, power hungry, and emotionally detached. These days Orion focuses on battle strategies, training/helping the younger Death Eaters, and completing specific missions from Voldemort himself. Sometimes, he is called upon to interrogate particularly hard cases.

As a student at Hogwarts, Orion focused on his studies to the point of mental and physical exhaustion in order to please his parents. Some days, it took all of his strength to get out of bed. Other days, it took all of his strength to not break down completely. When he wasn’t working on homework or studying, Orion played Quidditch as one of Slytherins beaters and was even team captain in his sixth and seventh years.

Orion escaped Aversio with no help, practically with his bare hands, and is finding it increasingly hard to suppress the resentment and bitterness he feels towards his fellow Death Eaters for leaving him to rot in his cell. They say they searched for him night and day, never giving up, but Orion wasn’t born yesterday and he finds it hard to believe. He has to ask himself; is it his paranoia or the cold, hard truth?

He never wanted to be Minister, not even as a child, but when Voldemort asked him to run Orion had no choice but to say yes. It was merely a show of power and strength after one of his best managed to get captured. Orion was relieved when it was announced he didn’t win, though he can’t help but feel like a disappointment for failing Lord Voldemort.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

Orion would create the strongest, most powerful and universal defensive spell there is. He would be able to hide in plain sight with no fear of discovery or cast the spell on those of his choice to protect them as well. It wouldn’t just hide people though; houses, artifacts, scents, any trail that can be tracked the spell would get rid of it. What is a security spell if another wizard can disarm it? Orion would, of course, include a failsafe. If someone was trying to tamper with the spell Orion would create it so it would backfire on his enemies, which could mean anything. If the spell was protecting important documents (or something like that such as artifacts, etc) it would completely destroy them and also injure the person in question as well, possibly even capture them for interrogation.

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

His mind goes straight to Walden MacNair. Orion knows the man to get things done, to survive at all costs if it came to it, but he doesn’t exactly trust him. Joining Walden in the Forbidden Forest completely alone feels like Orion is slapping a big target on his back and saying “do your worst.” With that in mind, Orion would want Cassius Mulciber to be with him. He knows he wouldn’t have to worry about Cassius’ safety and that the young man would also have his back.

Orion would bring his broom with him for two reasons. One, he’s always wanted to fly around the Forbidden Forest and two, because if all else failed at least he’d be able to get the fuck out of there quickly.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

Although it doesn’t seem like it, it’s hard for Orion to make decisions for his children, especially when they are hellbent on disobeying him. In the back of his mind, Orion is reminded of how his father directed him down a path that he did not chose himself. The little boy in him wants to see his kids make their own choices, their own mistakes, but for the sake of the Black family he cannot allow that.

The most difficult decisions for Orion to make usually involve his family. This would be a surprise to some, but it wasn’t easy for Orion to disown his first born son, not when he saw so much of himself in Sirius at that age.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

The one thing that Orion would never want said about himself is that he is disloyal to Voldemort and that he doesn’t believe in his Master’s beliefs. This is a fear of his, one that has been slowly growing larger over the past few months and taking over the deepest parts of his mind.

WRITING SAMPLE

The wooden door opened with a slow swing, bringing the cold air with. A man stood on the other side; fists clenched, hood up. His robes were soaked all the way through. He couldn’t of walked here, could he- a wizard like him? Two seconds passed and a few patrons noticed the shadowy figure who had yet to enter the building. Another two seconds and he had no choice, but to walk. Any longer and he would have drawn even more unwanted attention.

Mick, the bartender and owner, as always, was incredibly cool as he cleared the bar of used glasses. He didn’t falter or react the same way his customers and one other employee did. It was like he knew the man who was sitting down at his bar already. However, if his suspicions were correct, the man he knew wouldn’t have sat at the bar with his back exposed, but at his normal booth where all exits were visible and every customer was in plain sight.

Then again, it’s been nearly three years; a lot can change a man in that time.

“Your usual, Mr. Black?” Mick asked already turning his back to grab a bottle of rum off the top shelf. Upon hearing the name, the old man three seats down grabbed his dinner and found a table to occupy.

Orion nodded once as he pushed his hood down, “Thanks, Mick…Place looks good.”

“It’s got a few new nails and boards, but it’s still the same Double Barrel.”

Mick placed a napkin down then the glass holding three fingers of rum. He took another good look at Orion -tired eyes, permanent frown, hair falling forward- and wondered what happened to make such a powerful man weak enough to relapse. He walked away, knowing better than to linger when Orion Black looked the way he did…

There was a look in his eyes Orion had never seen before. Not just wild, but dangerous. Very few dared to look at Orion in such a way, fewer made it out uninjured. He should’ve seen it coming. All these years; the posters, the friends, the house- red and gold. Orion should’ve stopped it when he still could, crushed it with his giant fist and rebuild it in his eyes. Just like everything else he didn’t agree with in this world.

But Sirius Black was too far gone; it was in the way he squared his shoulders as Orion towered over him, how he spat ‘fuck you’ like he was speaking freely for the first time, and when he twisted his hands around Orion’s wrists as his father grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

Bloodshot, angry eyes reflected in the black, wet pools of the first born son. Orion could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands through Sirius’ sweater, pulling his son even closer as he fought to get away.

“Get off of me!”

Orion’s voice was a hissed whisper, barely containing his rage.“You’re just going to leave? Throw all of this away and be like them- a blood traitor?”

Sirius stilled in Orion’s grip, a scowl lined his jaw, “Better them then your son.”

In one fluid movement, Orion released his son and pushed him backwards with purpose. Shove after shove, shout after shout, until Sirius was backed against the front door of Grimmauld Place, nearly tripping over his packed bag before he could pick it up.

Orion stood tall, stoic, and looked down at the young man who was no longer his son.

He felt nothing. The axe had already swung.

“If you leave, you may never come back. You will no longer be a Black, no longer our son, no longer a brother.”

Seconds felt like hours until Sirius finally opened his mouth and-

“Another, Mr. Black?”

Orion blinked -once, twice- and looked up at bartender he hadn’t seen in three years, “What?”

Mick was already pouring the top shelf rum, “Would you like a refill, Mr. Black?”

The only wizard sitting at the bar nodded with bloodshot, no longer angry eyes. He watched as the rum poured down into his glass, the light reflecting it in such a way it was almost beautiful. Watching the amber liquid swirl and pool. It was simple. It was comforting. Orion closed his eyes as he drank the entire contents again, only opening them after he heard Mick fill up his drink a third time.

He raised the glass again, but before he could touch it to his lips Orion caught his reflection in the lukewarm rum. The sight of himself made Orion want to puke. It made him want to scream. To cry. To fight…to run. Run after what he wasn’t sure. Maybe after his first born son.

Maybe Orion wanted to run just to run; just because he could, just because he wanted to.

Instead, he slapped some gold onto the worn oak of the bar, bought the whole damn bottle, and went home long after his world went dark.

#Accepted App

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kaikumin · 7 years ago

Text

The Devil’s Sons [03]

poster by @minhaaru

One was sent to damn her into a life of eternal misery. The other was sent to save her. Neither had the intention of loving her.

word count: 1851 genre: fantasy, angst characters: Soonyoung x OC x Jihoon 00 | 02 | 04

Time was completely still, not a second passing on the clock that hung decoratively on the wall. Sahyun had already picked up on that fact. It was the eerie kind of still, one that left you feeling restless and even a little agitated.

How could things even exist without the concept of time? She was a lot calmer now, and more than a little drained, mentally. A plate of unidentifiable substances sat on the table in front of her, far too gray and squishy to be considered food by her standards. She couldn't even bring herself to try taking a bite of it, bile rising in her throat from the mere thought. "You should eat." It was the tenth time that Jun character uttered those words at her, his eyebrows furrowing a little deeper with each statement. Sahyun didn't bother replying this time. She assumed Seungkwan must have finally gotten fed up with watching her stare at a plate and do nothing, because he sighed for the thousandth time and marched his way over to the table, looming over her in what was probably meant to be a threatening manner, but she was too far gone to feel anything from it. "Do you have a death wish? If you don't eat, you'll die, idiot." Again, she didn't bother to reply. "He's right, Darling. Things happen differently in this world, especially for mortals. Your energy drains a lot faster and you were already here for nearly a week of mortal time." That finally caught Sahyun's attention enough to look Jun in the eye. "A week?" An entire week had passed with her lying like a dead person on a bed in a place she knew nothing of. But, how, when it had only been… she wasn’t sure, but it certainly hadn’t been a week wherever she was at. Mortals? She had hoped this were a dream and that the people before her were nothing more than her imagination, but the more she sat there, the more the realization that what was happening was very real came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. These people weren't human. She was no longer on Earth. And she had officially lost her mind.

"Oh, so she knows how to speak." Seungkwan grumbled, rolling his eyes at her before picking up the silverware and waving it in her face. "As much as I don't care what happens to you on a personal level, it's already bad enough Soonyoung brought a damn mortal into the Middleground. Things will only get worse for us if you die here."

Sahyun stared at the silverware distractedly, once again drawing into herself. Anxiety piled in her stomach and suddenly, the need to vomit didn’t stem from just the substance they were attempting to shove down her throat.

“Oh dear…” She faintly heard Jun mumble, but didn’t register him moving toward her until his hand was on her chin, gently bringing it up so she would look him in the eyes. “This is a stubborn one with her emotions. It’s hard to keep a grasp on her.”

It was a miracle, how fast the anxiety dissipated then, calm once again taking over body. She found herself comfortable enough to ask him one of the many questions weighing on her mind. “What exactly are you?”

“A lunatic.” Seungkwan muttered, earning a glare from Jun, who gave her a warm smile when his eyes met hers once more.

“I’m a compellor. I can control emotions, and occasionally the actions of others, but they have to be weak minded for that.”

“Oh.” Was her reply, her eyes unknowingly shifting to Soonyoung, who had stood quietly in the corner the entire time, his eyebrows furrowed, clearly lost in his thoughts. She had meant to ask what he was, as well, but found herself observing him instead, the way his lips set into a frown, the sharp shape of his eyes piercing even when he wasn’t looking her direction. Her breath caught in her throat when he suddenly turned to her, sensing her eyes on him.

He didn’t say anything to her, just simply stared back, a whirl of emotions evident behind his dark brown orbs. An image of crystal blue flashed in her mind, somehow familiar to her despite not remembering having seen them before in her life. A splitting pain invaded her head at that moment, and she winced, breaking eye contact with him as hers shut tightly in response to the pain.

Her ears began ringing, sounding oddly like a car horn, and lights flooded behind her eyelids, an intense sense of panic taking over her entire body, and she couldn’t even herself when she began to scream. The only sound in her head was that of the horn, and tires screeching. A warm touch on her arm...

She remembered a warm touch on her arm. It was so familiar and so real…

Reality crashed back into her quickly, that touch becoming more apparent as she realized it was real. Her screaming stopped, but she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes yet, her body rocking back and forth in a feeble attempt at self-comfort.

“Holy shit…” Seungkwan’s voice was the first to break the silence. “Is that normal for mortals?”

“No.” Soonyoung replied, his voice a lot closer to her than where it would’ve been if he had still been in his little corner. “Jun, I thought you just calmed her.”

“I did, but something must have triggered that. She’s very hard to keep a hold on. I don’t know why. But, it seems like she’s calmed herself down, now.”

“Mortal’s are noisy.” Minghao mumbled for the first time in a while, and she felt a pinch in her chest as she fully accepted where she was and who she was with.

There was no returning home, there couldn’t be.

And whatever had brought her here, she wasn’t too sure she would’ve wanted the alternative, either.

Perhaps it was the silence that had made her so sensitive to sound, or maybe the sound of the click of a gun was as loud as it seemed in her ears. The entire room seemed to freeze then, the sound far from a figment of her imagination.

It had been two days since her screaming episode, and two more days that she’s had to come to terms with the situation. And, two more days of the four men trying to figure out what to do with her. She had only managed to learn a tiny bit, like how Minghao was a soul collector, hence his cold touch, and Seungkwan was just… Seungkwan. Bitter and rambunctious on his own, with no special ability save for his quick wit and verbal skills. And… she learned nothing about Soonyoung.

Any question asked was evaded or totally ignored and she grew more and more curious each time she asked, because clearly he had to be something important for the three men living with him to consider him some type of a leader. At least, that was the feeling she got from him.

But he was like a closed book. The contents hidden as long as he remained unopened, a mystery to everyone but himself, and those who happened to be lucky enough to read him.

She was far from expecting something to happen, after boring days spent try to figure out where she was, what she was going to do, and how she would get back home. But the when she turned toward the sound, she was shocked to see a the smooth silver of a gun held against the back of Soonyoung’s head. But, unlike her, he seemed calm, unsurprised and even a tad bit annoyed.

“I invite you into my home and you greet me with the barrel of a gun?”

That was one of the times she heard him speak so clearly, and her eyes grew alert when he quickly turned around and grabbed the gun in his hand, pushing down the arm of the person behind him, aiming the weapon to the floor. Her eyes slid past him to the intruder, taken aback when she saw how small his stature appeared next to Soonyoung, and especially with the height of Jun and Minghao standing on full alert behind him, watching him carefully. Yet, he still looked so deadly and fierce that Sahyun sucked in a breath at the intense look he was giving Soonyoung.

“I’d hardly call it an invite. You sent some Walkers to attack me.”

Soonyoung chuckled, catching Sahyun even further off guard, and she shifted in her seat on their worn sofa, tucking into herself in protection. Something felt very off about the interaction. “You love a good fight though. I found it to be thoughtful, Jihoon.”

“It wasn’t a good fight, first of all. And second of all, what the Hell do you want?” Jihoon rolled his eyes, yanking his gun out of Soonyoung’s hand and slip it away into the holster on his hip. Although, Sahyun didn’t miss the way his fingers lingered on it, even after his shoulders seemed to show him letting his guard down.

“I have a bit of a situation that I need your help with.” Soonyoung coughed, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the mortal girl sitting on his couch. “I may have made a mistake.”

Jihoon’s eyes shifted to the girl, having noticed her presence already, but not daring to question Soonyoung on it, hoping to get out of there uninvolved.

But of course it wasn’t that simple.

“What did you do?” Jihoon asked, narrowing his eyes on Soonyoung.

“You’re job.”

Jihoon scoffed, obviously offended by his choice of words. “And what exactly do you think that is?”

“Saving people. Go against fate. Ruining God’s plan. That sort of thing.”

The silver haired man rolled his eyes, turning his back to Soonyoung in frustration. “Let me guess, you were supposed to take her life, but couldn’t do it?”

Soonyoung remained quiet at that, letting Jihoon know that he was in fact correct.

“Sounds familiar.”

Soonyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Yeah, except I didn’t have someone there to save my ass from my own stupidity.”

“I didn’t even ask for saving, Soonyoung.” Jihoon growled turning back to him with an angry look. “I would’ve gladly taken the consequences of my actions, but you got in the way. Now it’s your turn to live through it. Why should I meddle for you?”

The raven haired male pursed his lips at that, contemplating his words carefully. His eyes flickered over to Sahyun on the couch, giving her a thoughtful look before sighing.

“Don’t do it for me then.” His voice was resigned as he spoke, and the sincere look in his eyes as he held her own with them kept her trapped in his gaze. She then knew somehow that whatever his intentions had been, though he had still refused to explain anything, had been for a good reason, and she suddenly found herself trusting in him. “Do it for her.”

#soonyoung #jihoon #seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen fanfiction #supernatural #fantasy #soonhoon #original character #kpop fanfiction #hoshi #woozi #WooShi #devilau

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