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abronzeagegod · 1 year ago

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Untitled YA Project Chapter 4:

First Chapter || More

7:44 PM local time

Training Barracks, House Kaiyantsh, Si Yátz

Rafe delivered on her breakfast promise. She always had a way of finding the good jukulu nuts and the kershkal berries that were Hira’s favorites. Hira dug into the offered sweet fruits, eagerly breaking through the tough exteriors with her mandibles before eating them with relish.

“Slow down,” Rafe said a little sternly. “Don’t choke yourself. Also put the ice on your face. The jodn will kick my butt if he finds out I injured you during training.”

Hira gave Rafe a flat expression, her antenna straight out and to the side, but she did as she was told.

They ate breakfast pretty quickly, the other squads were coming in from their daytime patrols and settling in for their dinner. Rafe and Hira had to work the very boring and less nighttime shits as they were the youngest, the newest, and in Hira’s case she was alway doing poorly on her shrar tests.

“I know why I’m stuck on this crap detail,” Hira said, “I failed three of my placement tests.”

Rafe let out an amused little chirp. “Did spend any time studying? Just spent all your time reading about the past?”

“Something like that,” Hira muttered, dropping both her gaze and antenna. “But why are you stuck here? You always do great in the physical stuff, and you know all the codes by heart.”

It was a question Hira always wondered about. Rafe was a good shrar, great even. But she was stuck with Hira in this dead end post in a dead end time.

Rafe looked away from Hira, showing similar signs of shame that Hira just displayed a moment earlier. “I’ll tell you later. Maybe if you beat me in the flying drills tonight.”

Hira immediately grew suspicious, her eyes narrowed, antenna stretched out towards her comrade, trying to sense any kind of lying. There might be some subtle vibrations or movements that she was desperate to detect. “Are you lying to me?”

“Maybe. So what if I am?” Rafe asked back, clearly trying to contain her sense of joy at teasing Hira.

“You’re just trying to taunt me with a mystery, trying to get me to do more work in the drills.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Our House isn’t that big, I would have heard if it was something good.”

“Kaiyantsh is a House that has almost fifty thousand members. Our zone is big enough to support four different preparatory schools. If I remember correctly, we never attended the same school, so you don’t know what mischief I got up to before I knew you,” Rafe countered.

Hira buzzed in disappointment. Because she did want to know, and badly, so that meant that she would do anything to solve that mystery. Even if it meant doing well in an extra drill after work. Rafe knew that she had Hira caught in her perfect little trap.

“Eat your jukulu.”

Their breakfast went by quickly, which disappointed Hira because that meant work was to start soon. The two went to their separate, small rooms to change and get ready for their nightly patrols.

The dark green and maroon colors weren’t Hira’s preferences for color, but they were the House colors. The crest was sewn into the back, which was that of a scepter and a zhisht, the specific flower that the House was responsible for cultivating, crossed over a concentric circle pattern. The clothing had long slits along the sides and back for Hira to put her arms and wings through, so that the garment went over her head and hung on her shoulders, leaving it somewhat loose and flowing. House Kaiyantsh protocol held that every shrar had to tie the clothing once on, with a small regulation belt. Hira always had trouble finding the right hold for her arms and wings on the first try. It was a constant struggle and she felt that she would never learn how to do it right the first time.

She put on her uniform pants, making sure to get her stinger through the hole before tying up the pants this time. Finally came the standard issue boots, which always felt a little too heavy for Hira. One day she knew they were going to mess with her balance while flying.

Despite all of her difficulties with the uniform, Hira was ontime to meet with Rafe so that they could go to their meeting with the jodn and get their orders for the evening.

Their jodn, their commanding officer, was a stout man. He was also a shrar, like the two of them, and was only of average height, just under five feet tall. A brusque, older zlilfian, he was of very little patience.

“Dralf Natúdrafe,” he said loudly when the two presented themselves to him for their nightly orders. The other two zlilfian squads lining up behind them. “How was shrar Hiraksyua this evening in training?”

Rafe settled into a perfect ready position in front of her superior officer, something Hira was always trying to mimic. “She did well, sir. Pinned me once in training.”

“That’s good news! Maybe you’ll pass your next assessment,” the jodn exclaimed loudly, making Hira’s antenna twitch. “Now, your orders are to patrol area AN-1, along the coast. Do the standard patrol routes on your way to the coastal wall, then I want inspection pattern C, followed by a non-standard route back to the HQ by the end of the night. We have ha reports that some of the plants have gotten particularly hostile and one took a small chunk out of one of the adths this morning as they were harvesting what was likely your breakfast. You are to assess and deal with as appropriate. Do you understand shrar?”

“Yes sir!” the two young women called out.

Hira felt a little sick to her stomach now that she knew that one of the gatherers had been injured in their collection duties.

“Good! I expect you to return here and give me a full status report in six hours! Grab your gear and head out! Dismissed!” the jodn yelled.

Hira and Rafe immediately turned to go off and complete their orders.

They grabbed their weapons supplied by the House. Two dlondzhii, which were wooden batons that were strapped to each forearm, and could be extended or retracted with a quick hand movement. Hira always thought about how zlilfians with their three fingers and one thumb, didn’t have the exceptional grip strength that humans did so they had to develop different methods and weapons. While humans made guns and swords and all sorts of other things, zlilfians made these batons to attach to their arms, and not have to worry about being so easily disarmed, and leaving their hands free for other tasks.

After one quick inspection by the jodn, they were off on their patrol.

Rafe always made sure that they were the first two out on their tasks, as it was the easiest way to impress their jodn and make sure they were considered for getting off the late posting.

The patrol was long and boring. This wasn’t the first time the pair had been sent on this particular route to the sea wall that surrounded the island. Their House and it’s territory was in the farthest northwest part of Si Yátz.

The patrol route took them almost three hours to reach the sea wall. It was a 40 foot wall of volcanic rock that dropped almost straight down to the sea. A perfect natural defense of their island.

And as always Hira paused to just look out over the dark and beautiful water.

Rafe was always respectful of Hira’s little moments of solitude looking out at the ocean.

“It’s very pretty tonight, with the full moon and all,” Rafe said quietly. She didn’t want to ruin the moment with her voice, but at the same time she couldn’t not say anything. “But we do need to get moving, especially if we have to deal with some zlilfian eating plants on the way back.”

“Yeah,” Hira said with a sigh as she finally tore herself away from the view.

Rafe led the way back into the dense zlilfian jungle on the route designated by the jodn.

“So what is so interesting about this part of history that you’re reading about now?” Rafe asked quietly, trying to pass the time with small talk.

“Well the Spanish were the first to really find this part of the so-called New World,” Hira started, because once she started she always found it so hard to stop.

Rafe let out a small laugh at the concept of the two continents of the western hemisphere being called “new” when the zlilfians were here for at least 3,000 years before the humans of Spain found it. And even then there were the hundreds of different tribes of humans that already lived here.

“And they made contact with several other islands and parts of what are now the United States and Venezuela. Then they started exploring, going wherever they wanted. And you know that no humans are allowed on the island, especially back then.”

“Let me guess…”

“Yup. That, and they heard some rumors about a city made of gold. And there’s this island, full of zlilfians, who they see as strange devil creatures with our gold patterns, so clearly we must have a city made of gold.”

“I’ll never understand humans,” Rafe commented. “Least of all the Spanish.”

“Can you even imagine how cold a city made of gold would be?” Hira shivered at the thought of sleeping in a city made of metal and gold.

“And gold is not a hard metal, it’s soft isn’t it?”

“It is. And I’m just about to start that conflict which I hope will inform me about why there is so much ill will between our people and the Spanish. Like why did we just… leave the Spanish alone to do whatever they want in Cuba and other islands and Florida. Ugh, the whole Florida thing makes me so made. And-”

Before Hira could continue, Rafe cut her off with a sharp hand movement.

In an instant they both crouched down and moved slightly apart. Huddled in the underbrush of some very large plants that had been very specifically installed by the ancient zlilfians when they came to this island, the pair waited and watched.

After a moment, Hira saw what Rafe had seen first. What looked to be a deer. At least all Hira could see of the animal were the thick antlers.

“It’s just a deer,” HIra said, but Rafe shushed her with a motion and then pointed back at the animal.

She looked again, and when she noticed what was going on she was repulsed.

The antlers slowly fell to the ground with a sickening shluck, as the tendrils of the choon plant dropped the bones and cartilage of the consumed deer to the ground. It was an unpleasant sound and an even more unpleasant fate.

The choon plant created some delicious sweet fruits, but the defenses for the fruits was a carnivorous pod and tendrils that could easily capture and consume an unwary zlilfiant, or in this case, one of their domesticated deer.

Luckily for Rafe and Hira, this choon wasn’t very big, little more than a few years old. But it was still a danger. It had already consumed one of the deer that lived in the area, and it almost killed a zlilfian working the jungle this afternoon. This plant would have no problem eating a pair of young zlilfians on patrol.

In a stroke of luck for the two, the choon had likely just consumed the deer, so it wouldn’t be immediately ready for another meal, needing at least a day or two for the sack that consumed the meat to digest it and refill with the necessary enzymes.

Rafe used a series of quick hand signals to indicate where she Hira to move and strike. Hira nodded, she understood.

The two creeped away from each other, Hira flying up into the nearby trees. Quietly they snuck up on the carnivorous plant from two different directions.

They had to be careful because while the choon was full and hopefully sated for now, it would eject whatever was in the stomach sack if it was threatened and try to grab any threats and swallow them. So stealth was the best option.

Hira and Rafe coordinated their attacks on the unsuspecting plant very well. Hira hitting the plant from above, Rafe darting in from below. With a quick series of blows from the two of them and their dlondzhii batons, the plant was sufficiently stunned. And with that they could go with trimming the plant to keep it from being dangerous again, which mostly consisted of taking off the tendrils.

As they got to work on trimming the choon, Rafe suddenly stopped, turning away from her work. Her antenna alert and searching along with her eyes for some kind of sound or movement within the dark forest behind her.

The momentary lapse in attention meant she missed the rousing of the plant, which expelled some of the sticky sap the choon used to subdue its prey all over Hira.

“Natúdrafe!” Hira cried out as she was covered.

Rafe quickly shushed her and ripped out the last tendril from the choon before pushing Hira back into the darkness of the jungle.

“What?” Hira asked as she tried to wipe off some of the sickly sweet substance, but it was a losing battle. It was already in her hair and clothing. It wouldn’t come off easily.

“There’s something in the jungle with us.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Should we call it in?”

“We need to establish a visual at least, can’t just call in a sound I heard,” Rafe said. “Could have been another deer.”

“What’s the plan?” Hira asked.

“Stay close. But I want you up in the canopy. Go off to the south a bit, and I’ll head towards the east. Keep within visual range at all times,” ordered Rafe. “And be quiet.”

“Of course,” Hira responded. She quickly shook off her wings to dry them off before taking flight.

She flew up into the treetops, carefully looking out for both Rafe and whatever else was sneaking through the dense plant matter. Hira thought that it was likely another surprise drill from the jodn like that surprise “human” attack from a few weeks back.

Hopefully they wouldn’t fail nearly as badly this time.

Hira kept her eyes open, and her antenna attuned to everything around her, but she didn’t hear or see anything. Sixty feet below her, Rafe was sneaking through the underbrush, searching for the thing she heard. There were a few animals around that could have made the noise she heard, but there didn’t seem to be any around.

“It’s a bit too quiet,” Hira muttered to herself.

She thought she spotted something, movement, something moving fast, at least according to her compound eyes.

Rafe said to stay close, but in order to investigate, Hira would have to go slightly further away. What was another ten or so feet?

She quickly flew over to another branch and settled down. She looked, listened, and sensed but there was nothing over there. No disturbed leaves or branches, no tracks. So there couldn’t be anything over here. It was just a quiet jungle.

“Rafe?” she called out on the radio. “I don’t think there’s anything here.”

Only the eerie silence of the jungle late at night responded.

“Rafe? Where’d you go?”

Hira turned back to try and look at Rafe and at least see what she was doing and why she was ignoring her.

The other zlilfian was gone, missing from the area she was investigating a few moments before. Hira zipped from tree to tree looking for her.

“This isn’t funny, if this is some test or drill of your’s I don’t care. I’ll fail and go back to clean up,” Hira said with a huff both out loud and into the radio. She was sticky and tired and not happy. She didn’t care to be tested like this.

But she got no response.

Hira landed on the ground where she last spotted Rafe. “Where did you go? Let’s head back already.”

Then suddenly, around one of the larger trees in the area, Hira spotted a figure in all black. A figure that wasn’t zlilfian. They were too tall, too thin. They didn’t have wings. A human.

A human on the island. Where they explicitly weren’t supposed to be.

Hira turned to fly away, fly back to base, she had to alert someone, when she ran right into Rafe.

She swore she called out to her partner, but she didn’t hear the name leave her mouth. She didn’t hear the swift attack from her partner, but she did feel the stinger hit her abdomen.

Rafe had stung her.

A few seconds later, the toxin froze all of Hira’s muscles and she collapsed to the jungle floor, unable to keep herself upright.

She couldn’t hear Rafe leaving her on the ground and leaving with the mysterious human.

read early chapters on my kofi

#my fiction #the plot thickens #i feel like i put all my character Through It but Rafe has the Most Through and the Most It #poor kid #she's doing her best #untitled YA novel

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abuse-ken · 1 year ago

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Okay so Hanamuke

Nobody ever talks about the lore on this one. It drives me insane. Did you know it came out the same day I decided I'd run away from home cuz that fucks me up /pos anyway

The lyrics are straight-forward enough. Nirvana (that's his name okay bro trust me) is running away from an abusive situation. Lyrically, he lists this as "anger to culling", "diappointment to our rotfather", "not able to come out", "not able to wed", "death of your grandpa", "anger of abuse", "disgustingness of our rotfather", "dull pain in right lung/heart".

Visually (screenshots below, can't read red text :/), it also looks like he has siblings(?) that appear younger than him. Five hands hold onto him, presumably his siblings, parents, and aforementioned grandfather. The placement of the hands, and later symbolism, reads as sexual abuse too.

We'll come back to the other sexual abuse symbolism, cuz it's a metaphor within a plotline type of deal. As to what made me interested to write a meta on this song. *Points* guys there's a cult there

I left the little flyer for you all to read. This guy here is the man putting up the flyers that initially caught Nirvana's attention, and who he was following to Apple Blossom Land. The red eyes is a pretty obvious sign that the place is no good, not to mention how vague it is. They just want people, they don't care who, no further details needed

Then there's also this guy, whose truck Nirvana was riding on the back of. Who drove away from Apple Blossom Land, and didn't stop to let Nirvana keep going towards it. Suspiciously with a tattoo of a flower blossom. Which. Sir you could have tried harder, but A for effort ig

But. Most interestingly of all. I think that's Ito and Ote's cult. With Zoy and all that shit. Their cult is heavily tied to flower symbolism. They're in nearly every song directly tied to that plot. They decorate events in both Wedding Festival and Want to be Cremated, they're even titular in Flower War, and Ito is compared to golden kerria. And now we have apple blossoms, which represent the continuation after death

Every major member of Zoy's cult is dead. Zoy himself, Frannie, Ito, and Ote seems to want nothing to do with the place. So they're left to get new members through this kind of method, which isn't uncommon in cults anyway. They find vulnerable people and just. Pspsps at them until they're stuck

Which brings me to the sexual abuse point.

This looks and sounds like a rape. No real way around it. The story I'm getting from this is that Nirvana was already being abused (tail is present when he first sees Apple Blossom Land flyer). When a family member(s) raped him though, presumably his father and someone else ("disgustingness of our rotfather"), he "lost his tail", so to speak, which pushed him to finally go. Hence jumping off the back of the truck there, his tail's stump still bleeding

Anyway he's just like me fr and you guys should talk about him more

#nirvana #hanamuke #tw religion #tw sa #tw incest

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truckreincarnation · 1 year ago

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Blossoms and Bombs | Avery | Trial 4.1 | Re: Esmee, Nao, Bian, Theo, Shinjuku | ATTN: Shinjuku, y'all

Avery was a little out of it, as they entered the trial room. They’d managed to power through the investigation, to look everywhere they could think to look while constantly worrying about Nao, Bian, and Theophania all for different reasons. But now that they’d finished, and the reality of the situation was weighing on them more fully…

Frankly (hah), they look exhausted, and it takes them a moment to gather their bearings and enter the conversation properly.

“I… I can clarify a couple things myself for everyone, about a few different things, and I’ll do my best to make it coherent. So first- Esmee, I can confirm that Nao said that he drank multiple potions of his own making he had on his person after his injury, which is why he’s fully healed. This is corroborated by the fact that the healing potion stock in the training room seemed to not have anything notably missing.”

“I also checked Nao over, seeing… the light injury marks that she has that get left after magical healing. And I did help to Purify her lightheadedness and confusion she was experiencing a bit, but was asked to leave the blood in place for now so that you all could see it too first. So I did that.”

They turn towards Nao, who they give a nod to, and speak to more directly for a moment.

“If you’d like now, at any time I can purify the blood away as well for you since the others have seen it, so please let me know when.”

That covered… then they give a meaningful glance of worry and thanks over at Theophania as well. Good- It had definitely been their own request that she heal herself as soon as others had seen.

“Next- I can give an account of Theophania’s injuries. She does have blood in her ears, even though the injury they came from is healed, and some still-healing bruising and general dirt, blood, and burns on her clothing primarily on the front side of her. Her Blossom healed the majority of her injuries pretty well so it's hard to say how bad exactly they would have been initially, but definitely worse than they are now by a significant amount.

She also had nothing suspicious on her person I could find. Just bits of pebbles and such in her pockets from the ones she was collecting to use I imagine.”

A glance back at the others.

“Also, Relatedly: I’d also like to clarify that a damaged eardrum doesn’t only occur at the very center of an explosion specifically, and the placement of all three people we found at the scene were already well within the very large blast radius. The epicenter of the explosion also seemed to be right at the Gate, with the radius of the blast spanning 50 feet."

"This is… very large, but it’s also important to note that Rue informed us that something like an explosive hitting the barrier would cause the barrier’s defenses to effectively double the blast radius and damage those around it indiscriminately. And that… no one had been told this by her ahead of time, so it’s… I don’t know if the person who made it realized that would happen.”

Avery is quiet for a moment at that, looking down. But they can’t just leave things there, not with more things to say. So they look up and glance to Bian next, shaking their head a bit before looking to everyone else.

“The petals were only centered around Frank, not Luz. Actually… It’s more accurate to say that the center of the petals was a little bit behind Frank, which implies that he moved or was moved after the Phoenix Blossom was sent to him, at least a little bit."

"The tree that Luz is leaning against has marks that match the scratches on her back, so I think that’s where she first impacted. But the bloody tree a ways away from that is the one that matches the marks on Franks’ front. He… was probably crawling to her from there.”

They look around, realizing Theo hadn’t actually explained the flower fully and that at least one person had been confused about how it worked before now.

“Also… for those who might not be aware of how it works, Theophania’s Blossom is what we all… found her in at the scene, and that she’s used on Yuliya in the tournament. Basically… when Theo is incapacitated or at risk of dying, her blossom will activate on her automatically and heal her up again for a time, not to full health, which is why she still has some injuries, but enough to no longer be on death's door.” 3 HP, baby-

“She also now has the ability to give this Blossom away to another person who’s in need of it so that they can be prevented from dying instead- But if she does that, she can no longer use it herself while they have it.”

“The… evidence of it having been actually used, not failed before it even started, is the petals being there at all. I recognize the petals. They’re distinctive, looking a deep red like a rose but smelling like violets. There were petals left behind in the spot that Theo’s own Blossom around herself was too that were the same."

"But… I’m not sure what happened. Either… Frank WAS healed back above the risk of dying, but then something else happened to him, or… it was canceled in some way and he ended up dying anyways. It’s probably too early to say for sure one way or the other, but it’s something to keep in mind. It’d be a good idea to… talk about other evidence too, I think.”

They seem to be about done now, but… one other thing is bugging them a bit, so they look to Shinjuku last.

“Shinjuku, I… want to ask you a few things. First, considering your restriction was that you couldn’t touch others, did… carrying Bian’s physical body not trigger that restriction for you…? Since you said you brought her inside.” Did she not count as a Person like that? That was a little terrifying.

“And also… I’d like to clarify something. You said you got two intense pangs, and at about the same time as you heard the explosion, right? That can be assumed to be Frank and Luz getting caught in the blast likely, unless I’m mistaken. But that there was a Third less intense one a moment later. So my question is: How long after the first two was the third one? And were the first two at the exact same time, or were they staggered as well?”

That’s where they’ll be leaving their discussion for now, waiting to hear back. Nowhere in there have they even attempted to explain their alibi testimony, but that’s not the first time they’ve done this. They’ll probably only talk about it if it becomes relevant or they’re asked.

#Avery #ch4 #trial4 #submission

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kanmom51 · 1 year ago

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Thank you!!!

Thank you for putting this to words. I had so much to say and didn't even know where to get started.

What we've had the past 48 hours has been an orchestrated targeted attack on JK.

It's the original clip (which is a fake). It's the clips that followed. It's the harassment claims, the stories suddenly coming out of every possible hole. All planned to cause maximum damage. Damage to his reputation, damage to his career, damage to his success.

But you see, stop for a second and think about what a young person, mid 20s, must feel like to know that there are those out there that feel such a visceral hate towards him, that they would go to such lengths to try and cause him such damage and pain. I cannot even imagine it. And if you ask if he knows, he sure does.

Can you imagine?

Either or.

Either your name dragged through the mud, knowing it's not you, but you probably cannot do a damn thing about it, not now, because you are mid promotions and you can't turn this into a story about a scandal instead of this being about your song.

Or, your privacy has been invaded, and the one place you feel safest in was violated. The one place you feel free in is no longer safe.

Another thing that really bothered me with how this whole thing has been rolling out is some Jikookers reactions. I'm not talking about the knee jerk reaction believing the clip. I guess that can be a natural reaction. It's about the calling out those that questioned the validity of the clip. Calling them TKKs, calling them conspiracy theorists. Like where has the critical thinking gone? Throwing around the "well tkks questioned Taenni's car pics and look now". Sorry, but how the fuck can you compare the two? Didn't we all question the Taenni pic to start with? Only when the Gurumi pics started landing did we start to have those Ah-ha moments. But forget about that. Do we really compare the two? One is a pic of a car in public, clear faces, definitley recognizable. The second a blurry ass clip with faces clearly wiped out and thus unrecognizable. I'm not even talking about the invasion of privacy here. You know, not JK, but whoever that was had their private place, private interactions, posted online for millions to see.

Questioning the legitimacy of content that is not official content doesn't turn you into a conspiracy theorist. It means you are a critical thinker, even more so in this day and age of fake news and deep fakes. Just do a little search on TikTok you will see just how easy it is to fake these photos. Here's a little example I just found online from that little search:

The timing, the source, it's so suspicious. And not being suspicious in a case like this doesn't make you a better person, not a tkker god forbid. You are allowed to question. No, you have to question it before accepting this kind of media as truth.

So many discrepancies. Starting with JK's apartment or more so unit placement. The unit rented by BH is ground floor with a courtyard and a surrounding high fence.

But you know what? Even if that part was true, the apartment placement. There are so many other discrepancies going on, starting with the timing (Bam still at home and JK's haircut), size of the characters, sofa placement (yes, even when the video is mirrored), and unexplained disappearance of the lamp but appearance of a vase and flowers. I'm sure I forgot something here. And sorry, I'm not a TKKer nor a conspiracy theorist. I am only observant and learnt that in life you don't believe everything thrown at you, even if someone tells you to, even more so when the source and timing are super sus.

Not even going to talk about the clips that followed. They don't even deserve the time of day.

Whichever way you look at this, whatever is going on is wrong. Either it's defamation. This latest attack calling him a harasser of women (harassment being a criminal offense), is absolutely vile. All they needed was to throw all this dirt at him, you know that some of it will definitely stick. And if not defamation, if indeed he's been filmed in his own apartment (it's not, but let's say it is), then this here is a horrible invasion of his privacy. Your home, your castle, your safe haven. The place where you feel the safest, at ease, that being violated is the worst feeling ever.

I will end this by repeating @humanuser0613's call for action:

"If you see anything, please send the account link, screenshots, date and time, and artist (in the subject) in an email to: [email protected] If it's real, they can move to protect JK, have police investigate, etc. If it's fake they can still look for leaks or notify the proper authorities and sue."

Also, stream 3D.

I still don't love the JH version, will not lie, so I'm streaming the alternative version.

Let's support JK any what way we can.

so is the video with jk and a girl in his apartment real?

I'll answer this once so you all will stop sending me asks about it, because my god. Relax people.

1. It's ILLEGAL to film someone without their knowledge inside their place of residence like this. How the FUCK are you people all losing your shit about if it's real or not and what that means for shipping and not about the absolute lack of boundaries and how fucked up it is to film someone like that?? Report the video and the people spreading it to Big Hit. Doesn't matter if it's real or not, at this point it's got JKs name attached to it and they should know. They want to know about malicious rumors like this.

^ please do so if you care about them at all

2. It doesn't look real to me. It looks like a set up, which is what predictably happens often to BTS members whenever they have a comeback. In fact, 5 days ago someone warned people on Twitter that they heard about someone making up rumors and to not believe them and be ready to report as antis had a whole plan to try and turn JKs Chinese fans against him and since it was posted on Weibo and targeted towards a Chinese audience first... that tracks as well. The video came out of no where from a brand new account and then all of a sudden a ton of random anti accounts were sharing it everywhere. It's supposed to be distracting ARMYs from streaming his new song and give him a "scandal" (because oh no, someone in their mid 20s might date someone! Gasp!) Is it working? Because we should all honestly care less....

^you can check their account to see the thread too if you want

3. Multiple people have pointed out all over Twitter the minor layout differences of the apartment and how things don't totally match up that get overlooked due to how grainy the video is. (Creepy ass video.) And again, NOT THE POINT. I doubt it's actually JK. Like I truly do. It only sort of looks like him too. So whatever. But his name is attached and people are going to believe whatever they want to believe now. But honestly. True or not, if you are going to be more mad that an idol is fucking someone (no matter who) over that their privacy was invaded, your priorities are screwed up. And that's a you problem.

4. No, this isn't like the Tae and Jennie thing either, this is such a drastically different type of *leak* (that's I don't even think it IS a leak and not real, but that's just me, yall can think he is happily together with this girl if you want) and the focus on shipping and the scandal of that whole thing instead of their privacy being invaded and people just not caring about that is just as fucked up now as it was then. And that's the only comparable thing to this scenario here.

Hugs and condolences though i guess to anyone actually upset. Goodnight.

#Jungkook #JK

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queen0fm0nsterz · 2 years ago

Text

The Different Ladies Statues

While researching and writing the official (/j) Ladies powerpoint, I was reminded of the fact that each Lady statue has, apart from the differently colored kimono, also a different facial expression.

The first, Fox, is notably missing a part of her head. Her expression is solemn and her eyes are closed in what seems to be either acceptance or... well. Sleep. Either way, she stands proud in her place, and strangely at peace with herself.

Oddly enough, this same expression on a statuette makes its appearence a few more times. Tengu and her wooden double also have the same face as well - as well as having cute flower decorations on their kimonos!

(I did not notice wheter Fox also has them due to her being too distant, but all the others also seem to have the same pattern on their kimonos.)

((Also, double sidenote... I'm not entirely sure, but that thing behind wooden Tengu on the bookshelf looks suspiciously like the little music boxes in the Prison. I will have to double check, but putting the thought out there.))

What's interesting is that, once you take her out of her spot - away from the prying gaze of the Eye - Tengu's expression changes entirely.

This would line up with her description, as well as the visual rappresentation provided by the puzzle in her room; if she breaks characters and stops acting like "a monster", she will be immediately crushed by the world around her.

Or perhaps it could also be a visual rappresentation of the pressure weighing on her shoulders since she took the place of the First, and therefore has a lot to uphold... which could be why she wears the same face initially. Maybe she's trying to keep her cool and imitate her predecessor as best she can before inevitably giving in.

Her new face is disheveled, with copious amounts of makeup running down her face and her expression twisted in either pain of fatigue. Interestingly, she seems to be leaking a lot blood from her neck, which then spreads on her cheeks and kimono.

This could also be someone else's blood, but judging from the placement, I'd say it's more likely coming from her.

Moving on, there is Scarecrow. Being the first to have her eyes wide open, the Lady in blue looks like she has been, quite possibly, bamboozled.

... Putting the very funny screenshots I took of her up close aside, her expression is drastically different from the other two. She looks somewhat surprised, if not even scared; sorta like a deer starring straight into the headlights of a car.

Remembering how her mask originally pointed to her being scared of those around her, a face such as this would reflect that quiet fear. The room before the one she's placed in is filled with portraits of people from the outside world, while she stands alone in her little room. Then there is, of course, the security Eye, which can be considered a nice parallel to the paralizing fear that takes over once one has to leave their safe place.

Unlike all the other ladies, she appears to be wearing large earrings. The design is unusual because it looks nothing like the traditional Japanese earrings, so I thought I'd point that out.

Another interesting thing is that, in Scarecrow's room, a few statues resembling the other Ladies are also present. While one has Fox and Tengu's expression, the others are wearing the current Lady's mask. Considering that the cycle of Ladies is not exactly linear, this could be a signal of the passage from the chaotic beginning of the lineage to what then becomes the defining traits of the journey.

Teapot's statuette is very interesting for this very reason. She too is wearing the same mask as the current Lady... considering the rest of the imagery - this is where the Maw is most prominent - I wonder if this is when the cycle finally cemented itself, and where the Ladies started "blending in" with each other definitively.

There is one Lady of the Maw, the image of her that is presented to the world. She's not a specific person, she's a symbol. When one dies, the one after her takes on the role and acts as the Lady of the Maw.

This would explain why the Ladies are all wearing the same kimono in the picture where they all stand together and why Teapot here is wearing this kind of mask specifically. And it would also explain the sentence hidden between the image files of the various paintings of the Lady --

-- But that's for the PowerPoint. It's too long of a concept and it ties in to many other aspects of the Lady specifically as a character, so I'm not going to dwell on it now.

Going back to Teapot and the Maw for a moment, the submarine itself is heavily referenced in this room specifically. There is a big painting portraying it and Teapot herself being hidden inside a small model of the Maw itself is... quite telling. There is a big theme of curiosity and it leading to eventually being imprisoned surrounding her, so keeping in mind where you find her... it doesn't get any clearer than this, really.

And you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is? Each time you retrieve a statuette, the first notes of End of the Hall play in the background. The OST itself then continues, but the fact that the first notes are played each time you get a Lady is... telling.

This is not the first time End of the Hall is played in regards to the Lady either; it's also in the background of the Residence's trailer, where the melody ends up being drawn out by the Lady singing over it. And then there is the small picture of the Thin Man found in the Residence's files... that picture is somewhere in the Residence.

But again, I'm going to stop myself again. This has it's own section in the PP.

Going back to the statuettes, there are a few other Lady statues that should be brought up. This little statue on the Lady's personal music box is one we never see up close, but she seems to be wearing a Noh mask.

Either that, or she's very angry. What prompts me to say she's wearing a Noh mask is that the eyebrows remind me of those drawn on many types of masks. It'd be awesome if we could get a close-up of it.

Lastly, how could I forget the tiny statuettes scattered all around the Maw, and even in some places of the Pale City? I believe these ones are meant to rappresent the current Lady...

... and they're faceless.

Food for thought.

#little nightmares #little nightmares theory #little nightmares meta #ln theory #ln meta #six #six little nightmares #the lady #little nightmares the lady #ln six #ln the lady #fox #tengu #scarecrow #teapot #{THE LADIES STAY WINNINGGGGG #i have an alternative reading of these expressions and what they could mean but still #ask and you shall receive #love the girlies}

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druid-for-hire · 5 years ago

Photo

new hadestown au: BIKER ! EURYDICE, in which she’s a rogue lone-wolf biker dwelling in the urban jungle of a Neo Tokyo-type city called Hadestown, wracked with biker gangs, violence, poverty, corruption, and civil unrest, still recovering and rebuilding from an apocalyptic event many years ago. Heavy-handed with the AKIRA inspirations here, haha.

She fights for herself on the dangerous streets, an illegal racer with a consistent top-three placement and a reputation for ferocity that earns her the money she needs to scrape by. And then she meets Orpheus: a dopey bartender who has no place being in her business.

okay okay okay i’m gonna be jumping around a lot here. be warned. thanks @supercantaloupe, @regzillas, @birdmanlyss for your contributions! (sorry if i missed someone it’s been a while)

she's a lone wolf in a city infested with biker gangs and it's brutal

she's run over plenty of limbs in her day

then there's orpheus, this gentle, kind-hearted soul, an indie musician and shes like. fuck. now i gotta keep this bastard safe

puts a long pipe with a mess of bolts and metal on the end in his hands and tells him he'd better buckle up and learn to fight the road

this sort of thing is common among biker gangs to cause destruction and knock people off their bikes onto the road. other types include mallets, hammers, baseball bats, etc

shes small but knows a lot of self defense and is very good at handling herself on the road

besides teaching orpheus to steel himself and yes use that pipe on people, push them off and jam it in their wheels and let it break if it does, she's gotta teach him to hold on while she pulls all this crazy shit on her bike

she avoids taking him on the road because having to fight people gives him so much stress but he also stresses about her so it's all weird

the first time orpheus sees her run over someones arm hes like ""???????????????????!!!!!!!!"

"Don't worry it doesn't happen often" "WHAT IS 'OFTEN'"

she has a red songbird on her helmet and flowers on her jacket

and flowers painted on her bike too probably

or patterns like on the album cover

orpheus thinks it’s the prettiest shit he’s ever seen

so eurydice races, right? everyones like “who is this tiny little upstart” and then she takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair and everyone loses it

somethingsomething ig hades (who is something of a crime boss here, similar to Tombstone from the Spectacular Spider-Man cartoon, but not so unambiguously villainous in nature) becomes a contractor and he catches her in like, a bad contract that's hard to get out of without some kind of consequence

and now orpheus has to topple a capitalist again

anyway she like, meets orpheus in this little bar he works at

it's about lower middle class, so it's not too bad but it's still mostly populated by like, poorer people and bikers, etc.

they meet and it's cool and fun blah blah Come Home With Me shit

also this is a scene:

biker!eury: we gotta cross through downtown orpheus: what???? but there's a riot going on there! right now! eury: that's too bad, it's the fastest way! that's why you get this! (tosses him her pipe weapon) orpheus, barely catching it: sajskhsfdfs ???? eury: and i am gonna take this. (kicks open a trunk and takes out a rifle) orpheus: ???????!!!!???!?? WHERE DID YOU GET THAT AND DO WE REALLY NEED IT eury: Yes we do now come on orpheus: H-HOW did you get it eury: (loads gun) no worries orpheus: No i have many worries HOW DID YOU--

actually, on this emergency ride, orpheus proves surprisingly competent with her pole weapon—ruthless even, and eurydice wonders just where and how the hell he learned that

the conversation she has with him about that is the same one where he shows her his old, old scars

(besides ruthless—orph has apparently learned how to pose and intimidate. he does stuff like putting the tip of the pole-pipe to the asphalt as they’re riding, skipping on the road and creating sparks)

eurydice loves her bike more than certain relatives

certain complications lead to it being destroyed by hades as punishment for doing him wrong. and it destroys her. that is her most trusted sacred bike, that thing has been with her since she was a teenager

once she repurposes that devastation into white-hot anger orph has to physically restrain her from hunting hades down and breaking his kneecaps with a thick lead pipe

he's never seen her this absolutely devastated and furious

he goes to persephone for more work because he wants to buy eurydice a new bike

he keeps it a secret from her until he leads her out to a garage, hands over her eyes

(some of these bits are copypasted from my friend @regzillas)

orpheus takes his hands off and says Tada!!! it's just like the old one, there's no painted birds but she can do that. She just stands there in total silence mouth open, and orpheus goes 'so? do you like it?' before she bursts into tears. and at first orpheus is like :O!!!!! oh no!!! do you not like it? and eurydice through sobs just says 'nobody's ever done something like this for me’

it's... beautiful, it's touching, it's deep and it's love and she's so in love and she loves him so much, and she cries and holds him close and takes him in and she's so overwhelmed by her emotions, full of the care that orpheus so freely gives to her; and it's a breath of newness, fresh air in the cycle of dread and bitter anger that haunts the city (but she's still going to find hades and shoot him in the foot)

he just holds her and kisses her head

they spend the day painting it, the day after he buys the bike

hand-painted. and they both leave their handprints in paint on it, like carl and ellie do on their mailbox in the beginning of Up

a significant amount of time is spent thinking of a good name

theres lots of joking and eurydice playfully shoves orpheus and he falls over into paint

okay i wrote something like. Obnoxiously long for orpheus. i sort of have his backstory in this down, but i don’t have anything for eurydice unfortunately :( suggestions are welcome! but first: Hermes

biker!au hermes owns a chain of bars, several of which find their patronage among the ruffian youth, several of which are more refined and serve the middle class, and another several of which serve the upper crust hermes has a hand in every world and it serves him pretty well, and his chain is a bit of a channel of communication and its unspoken rule that whatever socioeconomic class or gang or organization you're a part of, hermes' chain is neutral territory no fighting allowed

eurydice walks in and hermes just gives her a Look and taps the 'no fighting' sign and she huffs

hes >:( if anyone does try to start shit. the honor system is strong enough that usually the other patrons will just throw them out, and if there are really problems, they'll hear from hermes personally

he maintains a very strict "no bitching in my fucking kitchen" atmosphere

and now, Orpheus

this really is kind of akira but without the government conspiracies; the city is a neon corrupt hellscape that’s still struggling to rebuild after an apocalyptic event that wiped it all through. the city is wracked with frustration and violence and anger, there are still urban ruins everywhere and the scars of rebuilding and struggle are plain in every corner of life; plain to see are the shells of ruined buildings, gigantic boats levelled from the sea and left in the middle of inland sectors.

orpheus was abandoned by his mother at an early age—kind and timid, he had to learn fast how to be suspicious and cautious in cruel ways. he couldn’t land himself a spot in any of the groups that other ragtag raging folks had eked out for themselves, still too hesitant or ungraceful or young for any of them. sure, he made friends, sitting and talking with lots of people, but never got to really team up—all he could do was just fight for himself in the blown out corners of the city. weapons made from whatever he had. a young child already spitting blood and teeth in hadestown’s vicious ground-floor landscape.

hermes is his mother’s close old friend, though the times they see each other are few and far between. when he saw him, hermes hardly recognized her son, wild-eyed and clawed and alone in one of the city’s more dangerous neighborhoods, with a pole full of screws slung over his back. how did she lose track of her kid for so long? he thinks. and takes him in.

hermes eventually realizes that his mother didn’t lose him. meanwhile, tiny orpheus, kind-hearted orpheus, despises hermes at first. he’s full of suspicion and desperately wants to lean into hermes’ kindness, but the streets have taught him to hold back. he spits curses at him, though the words slide right off hermes’ shoulders. it’s not genuine. just frustrated. and picked off of the delinquents that were his friends, just like most everything else about him.

(hermes knows he’s gotten his trust when orpheus starts getting soft, when he’s crying over littler things; it means he’s been deemed safe to be vulnerable around, and he damn near starts crying himself.)

orpheus owns a little vespa! it’s covered in stickers, some of them worn out and old, some places with just the adhesive and the fuzzy white paper from where he tried to pull them off. some of them aren’t even proper stickers and just shit he peeled off from places while he was wandering around and stuck onto the vespa

even in canon i see him as the kind of guy who like. you look at him and think jesus how is this guy still alive he’s so noodly and soft, but he’s unexpectedly sort of street smart

anyway i mentioned this before but didn’t elaborate. biker au orph, to eury's surprise, does have his collection of scars, since he had a bit of a rough go at life

also he’s just ungainly and runs into shit

you can see em on his sketch page. he has a bit more than what’s shown, but what’s visible is a little slash across the bridge of his nose onto his cheek, and two on his left forearm. he probably has a stab scar in his side from just getting fucking knifed. the ones on his left forearm are from when a drunk coming out of a bar charged him with a fork

eurydice also has scars. kind of hard not to with the kind of life she lives

ok thats it. For Now. i don’t know how persephone or the fates or the workers factor in, if at all. I barely know how Hades factors in, mostly what i’ve said so far and that he does what he does to support himself and persephone. ah well! just have this

as this is extremely based off of AKIRA, i verily recommend listening to the movie’s soundtrack. besides the fact that it slaps hard as hell, the opening song, Kaneda’s Theme, has the perfect vibes for the city and the tone of eurydice and orpheus riding at night through it

#hadestown #hadestown art #hadestown fanart #hadestown au #broadway #musicals #biker au #my art #this au first came into being because i wanted eurydice with fingerless gloves

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solomonish · 4 years ago

Text

From the Mouths of Fools

Belphegor has a habit of forcing his brothers into trouble, mostly with you. There’s nothing more satisfying than the look of horror on their face when they think they must have dashed their chances with you and that they’re digging the hole deeper. Each time, you reach out a hand and ease their worries, and Belphegor’s stomach twists as you tell them with kind eyes not to worry, that they’re very sweet. Why did you have to be such a spoilsport?

(also posted on ao3 @ treetunkdaddy)

Poems: A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, I Carry Your Heart With Me by E. E. Cummings, I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

Leviathan: I love you. Leviathan: I love you more than anyone else in this world. You: Thanks! Leviathan: Happy now? Leviathan: As I thought, this was the right thing to say.

You stared at your phone screen for a moment longer with one eyebrow raised. Something here wasn’t right. Though you weren’t some grand detective, you could tell that the texts didn’t sound like Levi at all Even beyond the sudden boldness, if you pictured Levi texting those messages you could only imagine him with a rain cloud over his head as he hunched over his phone in sorrow. The somber tone didn’t match his usual excitement. Maybe he was trying to get into character for some sort of cosplay…? Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out if he had mentioned getting into character for something. Still, there was no way he wouldn’t know all the lines of a character he was trying to embody, and it seemed far-fetched that he’d choose something so...overt, let alone practice it with you.

Before you could distract yourself too much from the tasks you were supposed to be working on, a solid oof a few feet away from your door caught your attention. You could just barely hear a half-hearted grumble barely covering the low boyish giggles of a scheming Belphegor as Levi freaked out in a jumble of words that sounded more like a keysmash than an argument. A moment later, you got another slew of texts that seemed much more like the demon you knew.

Leviathan: AAAEWAGVNAFBPEABD Leviathan: WAAAAAIT! Leviathan: I take that back! Leviathan: AARGH, no, that’s not what I meant! Leviathan: I left my D.D.D. on the couch and Belphie ran off with it!

Ah. That made sense. It also explained the nervous energy you could practically feel radiating from where the two demons undoubtedly still lay in a heap. With a devious look on your face, you tapped away at your phone.

You: I took a screenshot of it!

You were right about one of them being outside your door. You could hear Levi’s startled yelp, followed shortly by frantic footsteps running down the hall to his door. The three dots danced on your screen as the sound got quieter, the message reaching you just as the door to Levi’s room slammed shut.

Leviathan: No, you can’t! Delete that ASAP! DELETEIIIITTTTT!

Snickering to yourself, you hefted yourself out of your seat and opened your door to peer out into the hallway. A little ways to your left, Belphie lay sprawled out on the carpet with a half-dazed expression on his face. Taking care to keep your footsteps quiet in case he actually was asleep, you bent over his face to look at his half-lidded eyes. After a moment of shifting into focus, Belphie gave you a lazy smile and patted the floor next to him.

“You should join me,” He offered. “The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly dirty,” You added, gently toeing at his shoulder as if that would spur him to move.

“If you stare at the pattern on the ceiling and let your eyes get unfocused, it’s real easy to fall asleep,” He suggested. You turned your head to look at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a boring, dark texture above you. If you squinted, you could almost make out swirls in the paint. Maybe demons had a better time seeing details in the dark.

Beneath you, Belphie hummed contentedly, folding his hands at his stomach. He almost looked like he was sunbathing in a meadow, surrounded by fragrant flowers - the image made your heart jump the slightest bit. Maybe, if that was the case, you would have joined him. Lying next to him as a gentle breeze danced over your skin and the tall grass kissed your skin...that didn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey,” Belphie asked suddenly, holding you in a serious stare. It was one he didn’t bother to give you often, saving it only for when you trespassed him so greatly he needed to make it known (more often than not when he told you how lame Lucifer was if you mentioned how he’s helped you with some administrative details for the exchange program). “What did you feel when Levi sent you that message?”

“What?” You asked, shaken by the jarring change in his voice. He sounded much more stern, and though it was hard to tell while looking at him upside down, you were pretty sure he was holding you in a glare, albeit a very gentle one.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked. “That he might love you?”

Your face flushed at the personal question and you averted your gaze, missing the way Belphie’s gaze hardened at your reaction. “I-I knew they weren’t from Levi,” You answered, shaking your head and looking back at Belphie. “They sounded way too suave for him. I thought maybe he was playing a character, or something. I didn’t think they meant anything.”

“You thought they didn’t mean anything…” Nodding, Belphie’s mouth twisted in thought as he looked just past your shoulder blankly. Suddenly his arms shot up and he grabbed at the air a few times, shutting off any gateway to questions you might have. “Help me up. I wanna nap somewhere softer than this where I won’t get trampled.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the idea of leaving him there around once before shifting to his side and pulling him up. He took the chance to stumble into you, jamming his chin into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. Instead of feeling his breath tickle your skin, however, you felt his hair brush against you as he adjusted, eventually stopping once he was satisfied. You realized for a moment he was listening for your pulse, and your breathing shallowed on instinct, as if you wanted him to hear it. He didn’t tell you what he was listening for, only groaning when you started to ask him to let go so you could resume your day.

“Mmmm….maybe I should nap here? So comfy….” He murmured. Though he made no move to let go, he also didn’t fight you when you finally separated him from your body. Giving him a farewell smile, you turned your back to leave, not seeing his face fall in displeasure.

---

A few days later, there was a book on your bed that you were positive wasn’t there when you left that morning.

Dropping your backpack unceremoniously by your door, you peered at the worn cover to see it was an old collection of romantic poems. There was no suspicious Latin on the cover, now jewels (or missing jewels) to indicate it was a spellbook or otherwise enchanted, so you picked it up. Upon closer inspection, you saw it was a collection of human poems, many of which you read in your early school days. There were a few multicolored tabs stuck in it, no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Though it looked to be Satan’s book, you couldn’t imagine him risking getting adhesive on the worn pages. Curious, you flipped to the first marked page and scanned it, face flushing almost immediately.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

Flipping to the next marked page, your face turned an even deeper red as they scanned the page.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Each page you turned to gave you smooth velvet words that someone very clearly wanted to direct at you, each getting more intimate than the last. Every poem you read sent more blush to your face until you were positive another word would have you passing out.

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my face.

Honeyed words of Shakespeare and Dickinson forced your heart to pump faster in your chest than you ever thought possible. Though your body really did feel like it might collapse under the affection the poems held, you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through. Even though it was clear these poems weren’t written for you, the slightest implication that someone could think so highly of you had your head spinning. Before long, you were skimming the last marked page, barely able to catch your breath.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

A loud roar of Belphegor’s name shook you out of your love-stricken trance. Slamming the book shut as if you’d been caught doing something wrong, you listened to the hasty, angry footsteps of Satan right outside your door. The closer he got, you could hear his heavy breathing as he fought to contain his anger. “Where is that book? I know you were the last person in my room!”

Though the thought of being on the receiving end of Satan’s anger was enough to send you running, you slowly cracked open your door and peered out. Satan immediately whipped his head around to look at you, softening just a bit in an effort to let you know that you weren’t what he was after.

In a timid voice, you asked, “Which book would you happen to be looking for?”

“It was a collection of poems. You wouldn’t have happened to see it, would you?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door all the way and held the book out to him. Snatching it out of your hands, Satan widened his eyes at the tabs. “Did you-”

“It was like that!” You defended. Satan realized you were jumpy and slowly inhaled, willing himself to calm down before you continued. “It was on my bed when I came home.”

With a gruff hum, Satan nodded at your explanation before flipping through the marked pages. “It’s alright, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. I’m positive Belphie was the one who took it since he was-”

Stopping mid-sentence, Satan flushed a deep red once he read which poems were marked to be read. “O-oh,” He murmured, pulling at his sweater collar and clearing his throat. “This is...these are pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, it is a love poem collection,” You offered helpfully with a shrug. As if he didn’t believe you, Satan looked at the cover himself.

“I hope you didn’t mistake my intent. I didn’t mean for this book to end up in your care.”

“Ouch,” You hissed through your teeth. “Aren’t you a heartbreaker?”

Satan’s eyes widened before he furrowed his brows and backed a few steps away. “No, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Heaving a sigh, he placed a hand on his chest and shut his eyes as he scowled. “Thank you for returning it to me. Have a good day.”

Satan turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving you to chuckle at the empty space before retreating back to your room. On your bed, beneath where the book was, lay a green sticky note you had missed in the excitement. Picking it up, you saw a note scrawled in messy handwriting that made you question just how genuine these advances were.

I’m not the best at expressing myself with words. Maybe if I borrow the words of others, you can finally know how I feel.

---

The pattern continued for a few days, with each brother falling victim to one of Belphie’s tricks. Each time, they managed to fluster themselves to impossible standards, aside from Asmo who insisted he never sent you that love letter and don’t you know how beautiful his handwriting is like the rest of him? Oh, but if a love letter was what you were after, he’d send mountains and mountains until you just couldn’t resist him anymore-

By that time, you had gently shut the door in his face and jogged back to your room, just as red as the rest of the brothers were when it was their time to be the victim. Belphegor even managed to send you an email with a fake account with a name so similar to Lucifer’s you almost didn’t catch the differences. By that time, you saw through his jokes and simply asked:

You: Really? An email? [email protected]: What? He’s such a loser that I wouldn’t put it past him.

Even now, over a week since the last incident, Mammon was shouting in the hall as he kept running circles around himself, demanding Belphie to stop making advances on his human and to stop making him look like a fool. Without fail, Belphie always asked, “Oh? Is it foolish to think highly of the human?” Mammon was sent into a new frenzy every time.

By the time they were finished, you were exhausted just from listening to their incessant bickering. Mammon had scurried off, desperate to hide his embarrassment, while Belphie slumped down on the couch next to you and gave you a lazy grin. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. The antics had to stop.

“I think you should stop using me as a tool to mess with your brothers,” You said, not yet unpausing the show you were watching before the fighting started. Belphie scrunched his face and looked at you without moving his head.

“No can do. It’s too fun to see how desperately they try to save your honor from themselves. Idiots.”

Cringing at the insult, you continued, “Okay, but can you stop with the love advances? It’s a bit...much.”

Finally moving, Belphie turned his head to give you a scrutinizing look you didn’t understand before relaxing back into the couch. “Sure,” He answered humorlessly, tone dry and brittle with what was, to you, misplaced disgust. “It was losing its charm anyway.”

Now he was sulking, and you had half a mind to press play and just ignore his bitter mood. Still, you didn’t mean to make him pout, even if you had no idea where it came from and therefore weren’t exactly responsible for the shift. Sighing, you turned your back on him and leaned back, moving so your head was resting on his slumped chest. Without sparing you a look, Belphie reached his slim finger up and slowly carded them through your hair, making no effort to comb any tangles and deciding to ruffle it instead.

“I would like to know what’s got you in such a sour mood,” You said bluntly, turning your head to watch Belphegor stare at the ceiling blankly. Other than the occasional slow blink, you would have thought he had fallen asleep with how long it took him to respond. You knew better than to think he was ignoring you - he was either thinking of an answer he was satisfied to give or teasing you, seeing how long you’d wait for him and then pointing out how much you must value what he has to say if you’d wait that long.

“You enjoyed it too much,” He finally said, keeping his gaze from yours.

“I enjoyed it?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes. “I can assure you, I enjoyed none of what happened.”

“The fighting, maybe,” He agreed. “But I heard you tell Levi you thought it’d be sweet if he had texted you. I saw your face when you thought the poems were from Satan.”

“You were there?” Trying to remember the scene with Satan, you ran a hand partially through your hair and rested your palm on your forehead.

“The love letter, the gift basket, everything- you enjoyed it before you realized it was fake.”

“Belphegor, where were you?” You asked, knowing he would ignore your question. How many other times had he been secretly watching you without your knowledge? The thought made you shiver.

Clearly disgruntled, Belphegor growled at your questions before rolling his eyes. “At first I was just messing with you, but I never would have guessed you would sooner take sweet nothings from the mouths of fools before you’d ever take the real deal from me when I offer it out to you.”

Blinking rapidly, you felt your face warm and your heartbeat stutter for the thousandth time this week. “You...you never offered me anything,” you answered dumbly. Displeasure flickered across Belphie’s face before he sighed again and slumped further down, forcing your head down with him.

“Of course I didn’t. The others did, but not me,” He replied in such a way that barely hid the frustration in his tone, but the irony he was lamenting was lost on you. Sitting up, you shifted to sit on your knees and bent over Belphie to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Belphie turned his head away, but you grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled them towards you so he could face you directly. “Belphie, tell me what you were trying to do.”

For a moment, Belphie wondered if he could just slump out of your grasp and lock himself back in the attic, clear by the pondering expression he wore on his face. You squished his face a little tighter, just enough to keep him in place and speak up. “I guess...I was hoping you would think the love letters and everything were from them and you’d reject them.” He looked to the side to avoid the pity you couldn’t hide on your face, his gaze unintentionally hardening. “Why didn’t you reject them? You should have rejected them.”

“I knew it wasn’t real! I was just trying to make them feel better,” You defended. Swiping your hand away from him, Belphie lifted himself up so he was sitting straight and crossed his arms, the image of a petulant child. “Is this...is this your version of a confession?”

Though he did his best to maintain his glare, Belphie couldn’t fight the light pink that tinted his cheeks. “So what if it is?”

Thoroughly pleased with yourself, you sat back on your heels and pretended you needed to mull things over. His hair was covering his eye and he kept his head turned away from you, but you could feel Belphie’s pensive gaze on you as you made your decision. Grinning and leaning closer, you asked, “Is this another prank?”

You felt his cold hands on either side of your face before you even saw him move. He glowered at you with no heat, putting on an upset show. If anything, he was more upset that you insisted on teasing him when you were so nice to the others. “If you can look at me and say you think I’m pranking you right now, you really are just a stupid human.”

Your grin widened. “A stupid human you’d have no qualms about kissing, though, right?”

There was no need to answer you with words when showing you was much more enjoyable.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #swd belphegor #obey me swd #belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphegor fluff #obey me imagines #long post #my fics #belphegor writing #satan writing #mine

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jenoptimist · 4 years ago

Text

request:

Can you maybe write something with Jeno? 🥺🦋

✮ Pairing: jeno x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fantasy (magic) | fluff | royalty!au

✮ Additional info: temporary memory loss

✮ Word count: 5.4k

♡ Yakult says: [yakult stop including magic in your fics challenge] = ❌FAILED❌ like ?? why is that my default setting 💀💀💀 bUt anyways hope u enjoy this fic !! thanks for requesting ☺️💙

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When Donghyuck burst through the door, all but sprinting towards Mark, you remained unphased as it was nothing out of the ordinary. It was a habit of his, one that was usually accompanied by the two of them greeting each other with that complicated handshake of theirs. You paid no mind as the sound of their hands slapping against one another echoed throughout the room, continuing to scribble your input here and there on the document that needed to be completed by tomorrow evening. The lack of exciting chatter was odd but overall unconcerning so you kept your head down and kept working, leaving the two of them to whisper to themselves.

“Dude you lost him?!” Mark exclaimed suddenly, the harsh sound of his chair being scraped back accompanying his loud voice. That had you dropping your pen as you raised your head, interested in the conversation that was beginning to unfold in front of you. Donghyuck was assigned to guard the prince for the day so to hear that he lost him didn’t bode well to say the least.

The royal guard winced as he sucked a breath through his teeth. “That makes the situation sound completely terrible! It’s not that I lost him,” he paused for a second, head slightly tilted to the side as he scratched at his red hair, “he just, y’know, disappeared from my line of sight?”

“Disappeared from– Dude!”

“I know! I’m sorry! Oh my gosh what do you think they’re going to do to me? If they fire me nobody is going to want to hire me ever again! I’m doomed!” Donghyuck spoke rapidly, pacing back and forth. “What am I going to do?”

“Look for him?” You suggested unhelpfully from where you sat, dropping your pen on the table so that you could lean on the back of your chair and cross your arms against your chest. Donghyuck stopped in his tracks in favor of shooting you a deadpan look, clearly unamused by the way his eyebrows were raised slightly. Mark shook his head encasing his forehead in his fingers.

“Oh wow y/n you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think of that? No wait, I did.” Donghyuck snarked, still staring at you unamusedly. “Of course I looked! I checked the library, his reading nook and even the kitchens! Jaemin was definitely suspicious of me and I had to come up with some lame excuse as to why the prince wasn’t glued to my side.” With that, he dropped onto the chair that Mark previously occupied and groaned loudly, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Doyoung is going to kill me!” An exaggeration that statement might have been but everyone in the castle knew that Prince Jeno was the falconer’s favorite—regardless of the fact that he was a royal. Doyoung definitely would be both incredibly concerned and furious at the knowledge that the prince was missing.

Empathising with the panic he felt, you capped your pen and stood up. “We have no choice but to keep looking, c’mon it’ll be quicker with the three of us.” Donghyuck’s head snapped towards you, his eyes practically gleaming with hope and adoration, while Mark remained silent as stared at the ground in contemplation.

“I don’t think we’ll need to look that hard,” Mark said finally, after a couple of more minutes wearing a hole into the hardwood floor with that stare of his. “Have you tried asking Renjun and Chenle for special help?”

The practice of magic wasn’t abolished in this kingdom unlike in others however usage of it wasn’t actively encouraged, either. It was a safe space of sorts, so long as you retrieved a license that could only be granted by the monarchy. A magic license would only be given when an oath promising not to use magic for evil was recited. Renjun and Chenle were two of the best magic users around so Mark’s suggestion would surely bring the search for the prince to a speedy end.

“No, I thought I wouldn’t have to resort to it.” Donghyuck answered truthfully, gnawing at his already swollen bottom lip. Mark hummed in reply, as if he had already uncovered the answer but needed it to be confirmed.

“Alright then,” you said as you shrugged on your long, nude trench coat. “Let’s go visit them.”

Renjun and Chenle resided furthest from the castle, in between where the border of the kingdom met the forest. They lived in a stone cottage that had a cute little pond with koi fish at the front and a neat garden of various flowers and herbs on the side. You made a game of hopping on every other stepping stone that lead up to their house in a zigzag pattern while Mark and Donghyuck followed closely behind you, not even an arm’s length away.

The door opened before one of you could even knock. Chenle’s knowing smile greeted you, backing up to allow the three of you to enter. The four of you traded pleasantries as Chenle lead you to to the furthest room past the living room and kitchen. Renjun was already there, reading a book as he leaned on the wall where the window was allowing warm sunlight into the room. There were shelves that had jars containing several liquids of various colors—some even had objects and/or plants in them. In the centre of the room, there was heap of items on an uneven oak table in the middle of the room. How the objects didn’t fall off of the table was a mystery but you have never been one to question the way of the witches.

“How did you know we were coming to see you?” asked Donghyuck, who apparently didn’t share the sentiment as you. Renjun placed his book on the shelf so that he could help Chenle arrange the map, crystals and candle neatly on the table in a position that you were sure meant something significant.

“A witch never reveals their secret.” Chenle replied, glancing back to show a smile full of serenity. You exchanged looks with Donghyuck and Mark, shrugging at them before returning your gaze ahead of you.

“We need something of the prince,” Renjun said once he was satisfied with the placements of the crystals. He turned to face the three of you expectantly while Chenle moved the candle left and right, trying to centre it as he hummed a low tune to himself. The three of you must have made faces of despair or something similar because Renjun quickly added, “it doesn’t need to be his, exactly. It can be something that he gave you.”

Donghuck and Mark checked every single one of their pockets and then turned to you when they came up with nothing. The dainty silver chain around your neck felt as if it were extremely heavy at that moment, especially the ring that hung from it that laid warmly on your chest. It was a gift from Jeno on your birthday last year - he gave you the box with a shy smile, shifting from foot to foot as you opened it - and while you deeply treasured it, you treasured the man who gave it to you even more. With that in mind, your arms reached up to unclasp the necklace and held it tightly when you successfully removed it.

“I’ll get it back, right?” The hesitance in your voice was unwelcome but you had to be sure—what if they were going to burn it into ash using the candle? It wouldn’t be a point of concern had it been any other situation because you knew that the ring and chain were forged of precious material, but they had magic.

Renjun nodded, the corner his mouth quirked into a smile as if he could read your thoughts. You could feel the intense stares of your friends burning into the side of your head but you refused to look their way. Instead you focused on Renjun and Chenle in front of you, who made quick work of completing the necessary spell. When your necklace hovered on a certain area of the map, it was obvious that Jeno’s location was found. Chenle marked it by placing one of the crystals that was used to hold down the corners of the map which allowed Renjun to return your necklace. You immediately clasped it around your neck and hid it underneath your top.

“Thank you for your help.” Mark smiled after Jeno’s location was ingrained inside of your minds. He then fished through his pockets and handed them some money, quickly dropping it onto the table when the pair refused. At your side, Donghyuck was practically vibrating with the need to leave. You shared the feeling. Who knew how long the prince would be in that section of the forest for?

“That ring,” Donghyuck started once the three of you had started briskly making your way to the opposite direction of Chenle and Renjun’s cottage. There was a fusion of amusement and teasing in his tone and you already knew that you wouldn’t like where he was going to lead the conversation. “When did he give it to you? Did he finally get his act together propose?”

You and Mark answered at the same time.

“It was a birthday gift.”

“Get his act together? Dude, they aren’t even dating yet.”

You looked at Mark incredulously. ‘Yet?’ You wanted to ask but Donghyuck beat you to it, piping up before you could utter the word. “But you want him to propose, don’t you y/n?” He said it with a playful grin aimed at you and then laughed as he swooped around you, successfully dodging your attempt to shove him.

“Why would I date him?” You muttered as you pursed your lips, jamming your hands into the pockets of your trench coat. “Me and him,” you trailed off, frowning at the ground, “we aren’t like that.” You weren’t. Although being married to Jeno and spending the rest of your lives together wouldn’t necessarily be the end of the world in your book. There was no harm in dreaming, though.

“We aren’t like that.” Donghyuck mimicked, his voice annoyingly high pitched. Mark snorted. “Right, okay. Let’s pretend both of us believe you.”

You remained silent for a moment as you thought of the private, saccharine smiles that you and Jeno shared when the two of you were on opposite ends of a room, of how you could always spot him among a sea of people without fail, of how the two of you gravited towards each other and lastly, you thought of how he made your heart race and how you desperately hoped that you had the same effect on him, too.

“Alright, so maybe we are like that.” You admitted in defeat, your shoulders lifting to touch your ear lobes. “But–” You stopped yourself, tilting your head when you heard a gruff voice ahead of you which was loud enough to reach your current position.

“Keep searching. He’s gotta have more than that.”

The voice made your gut churn horribly. Without even the slightest bit of hesitation, you were running towards the direction of the voice. Selfish as it was, you hoped that he wasn’t speaking to Jeno. Of course your hope had been for nothing because when you approached them, Jeno was trapped by a woman holding both of his arms behind him while the man stood in front. Jeno looked physically unharmed, the clothes that he used when he wanted to pretend to be an ordinary person soiled with mud and rips. The woman noticed you immediately and jutted her chin in your direction. The man turned and folded his arms across his chest as his hard gaze landed on you. You were not going to be intimidated by his bulging muscles and towering height. You weren’t. Not when Jeno, your dearest friend and prince of the kingdom, was in danger.

You stood taller, arched a brow and mirrored his position. “Just what do you think you’re doing to my husband?”

And wait what. You didn’t know what you would have said but it certainly wasn’t that. By some miracle they didn’t notice your stance shift once the statement left your lips. Instead the man very pointedly stared at your left finger, where there was an obvious lack of a wedding ring. You sighed internally, the words were already said so you might as well go along with it. For the second time that day, you showed your necklace. You didn’t unclasp it, just untucked it from your top and showed them as proof.

“He isn’t wearing his ring.” The woman noted observantly, tightening her grip on Jeno clear by the way he groaned and clenched his jaw. You met his eyes as your brain scrambled for a logical answer. He shook his head at you, urgency written in his eyes, as if that would make you turn and leave.

“He’s a blacksmith.” Mark’s voice rang out, saving you from potentially making the situation worse than it already was. He used that authorative tone of his, the one that he rarely used, and you were completely thankful for how confident he sounded when he said the lie.

Donghyuck marched toward the man. “Leave our friend be and you can have that.” He gestured a hand to Mark who, without a doubt, probably had money or something considered valuable in his grasp.

Your gaze slid from Donghyuck to Jeno, whose eyes were focused on your firm. “You’ll be okay, I swear.” You mouthed. Despite his uncomfortable position, he managed a minute nod and a hint of a smile.

The was a tense energy as the woman and Mark stepped forward, her accomplice and Donghyuck eyes set on each other’s companions. You kept your gaze soley on Jeno, prepared to intervene if necessary—three, possibly four, against two would be feasible, there is power in numbers after all. When the exchange was over, the two fled which left Jeno stumbling onto the ground when the hold on him was released. You moved instinctively, approaching the prince just as he got pulled up by the combined effort of Donghyuck and Mark.

As Jeno brushed excess dirt off of him, Donghyuck tutted. “This is why you don’t go running off,” he started, you traded a look with Mark behind his back, knowing that the guard wouldn’t stop until he got everything he wanted to say off his chest. “Imagine what would have happened if we hadn’t found you in time! By the Gods. . .” while he continued to prattle on, his tone laced with both frustration and concern, you kept your eyes on Jeno, occasionally making silly faces with Mark. The prince would return your stare when Donghyuck’s eyes would stray away from him. Well acquainted with Donghyuck’s lectures, you knew that he was almost finished with the way that his toned and posture softened, the way there was increased pauses in his speech. Although Jeno looked thoroughly reprimanded, he didn’t look too upset. Rather he seemed entirely touched with the amount of care he found in Donghyuck. “But,” the red head finally sighed, clapping the prince’s right shoulder, “I can say with confidence that the three of us are glad you’re alright.”

Both Mark and you nodded with feeling. “The King and Queen would have had our heads, as well as the Crown Princess and Doyoung.” Mark added.

Briefly, you imagined Doyoung’s glare - he was rarely angry, more inclined to become irritated, but when he was it was scary - and shuddered, internally agreeing with Mark’s statement. The churning in your stomach returned when you caught the confused expression displayed on the prince’s face. Neither Donghyuck or Mark seemed to have noticed yet, occupied in their current conversation about how the four of you would sneak into the castle without being seen in hushed voices.

Jeno shuffled towards you and then stood barely an arm’s width away in front of you. Then, much to your suprise, he took his hand in yours. The warmth of his hand contrasted with yours although you knew that would change soon. In a few minutes your hands would become clammy with nerves. It was only simple hand holding and it shouldn’t have made your heart begin to beat faster, shouldn’t have made the unease slowly slip away, but the matter was out of your control. The two of you didn’t hold hands, ever. The closest thing that came to it was when your knuckles knocked against each other as you walked side by side on your nightly strolls. During those strolls you often thought about how easy it would be to take his hand in yours, just like he did a few moments ago, and swing your interlocked hands lightly in between your bodies.

“Why would the monarchy and, uh,”–your heart immediately dropped into your stomach, disliking the direction his question was headed–“Doyoung have your heads?” He lifted his eyes from the ground to meet yours, his head tilted. “Am I their personal blacksmith or something?” Your eyes widened and you swallowed thickly as you looked at your interlocked hands and back to his eyes repeatedly. What did they do to him? They must have done something. Jeno wasn’t joking, not one bit; how could he be when he looked genuinely confused. He shook his head, the confusion melting into a much softer, sweeter expression. “Can we go home now,” he raised your interlocked hands to his lips and softly pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “Please?”

“Guys,” you said, alerting the others while you tried for a warm smile. “Guys!” You repeated louder when they continued to talk. “We need to Renjun and Chenle.” You told them seriously once you finally captured their attention. Their gazes darted down to your hands before they shot up and looked back and forth from you to Jeno. Without so much as a blink, their expressions morphed from bewilderment to amusement and then went back to bewilderment before settling onto concern, no doubt seeing the alarm in your expression. With a firm nod of their heads, they made their way to the two of you and then waited for you to start walking, eyeing the prince curiously as they did.

If Jeno was confused again, he said nothing. Instead he just continued to smile adoringly at you, his eyes folding into pretty crescents, and kept your hand in his as the four of you turned and headed to the direction of the small, stone cottage.

“It’s nothing but a cheap trick,” Renjun deducted while Chenle kept Jeno company on the other side of the room, sipping on some tea as they chatted away. “It should wear off in a couple of hours. If not, it’ll definitely be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh thank the Gods.” Donghyuck mumbled under his breath. Mark sagged in relief.

“You really can’t whip up something that he can eat or drink to make him remember?” You inquired as you chewed on your bottom lip. Jeno still thought that the two of you were together—married to each other. It was entirely your fault but it wasn’t as if you had expected him to temporarily lose his memory when you blurted that out! If you could go back in time and change it, you would. You snuck a glance at him and before you could look away, he caught your eye and smiled as he nodded to whatever Chenle was saying.

“Unfortunately, no.” Renjun replied. “Even though it’s a cheap trick, memories are never something to be tampered with. So if we try to retore his memories, there’s a huge risk of him completely losing them or possibly, something even worse could happen to him. So with that in mind, it’s best to leave it be.” He smiled apologetically, rubbing the space between your shoulder blades in consolation. You managed a weak smile at him in return. “I’ll leave the three of you to plan then?” Mark gave him an affirmative and after another chorus of thanks, he joined Chenle and Jeno. The three of you huddled closely together, arms around each other’s shoulders with your heads ducked, so that you could think of a plan.

“Can’t we just tell the truth?” You whispered, “I’m sure if there’s a punishment, it won’t be that bad. Jeno is completely safe and you two are part of the Queen’s favorites.”

“No,” Donhyuck rebuffed, “even if he is safe and we’re her favorites, he’s still her son. I can’t see us getting away that easily.”

Mark sighed. “Hyuck is right, y/n. I think the best thing to do is to tell them that he’s decided to sleep in Jaemin’s or Jisung’s place. But he won’t be with them obviously, he’ll be with you. Hyuck and I can fill them in on what’s happening since they’re bound to find out anyway.”

Just as you were about to ask why it had to be you that he stayed with, the man of the hour spoke, startling the three of you out of your huddle. Jeno requested to go home again, looking at you imploringly with those puppy eyes of his. You quickly exchanged glances with Mark and Donghyuck, who were both silently pleading at you, before nodding at Jeno. The prince sought out your hand and you allowed him to keep hold of it as you strolled out of the cottage, Mark and Donghyuck hot on your heels.

“We’re lucky none of the citizens knows what he looks like,” you heard Mark say as Jeno relayed his conversation with Renjun and Chenle to you, “or else this would have been really bad.”

It was a short trip back to the city that consisted of nonstop chatter from Jeno. Donghyuck and Mark went along with you to your house, which was situated behind the lucious gardens of the palace. Fortunately, nobody had spotted the four of you. You could only imagine what sort of gossip would stir between the employees if they had seen the two of you holding hands. Donghyuck and Mark looked like your chaperones for Gods’ sake, especially with the way the trailed you at a distance.

“I can start on dinner while you shower and change,” you said after locking the door.

Jeno was looking around the room. It was a mess; the floor was unswept, there were sheets scattered around your coffee table and the cushions for your couch were squashed because you didn’t have time to fluff them this morning. There were also mugs in random places. You apologized for the mess but he waved you off, walking towards the kitchen where there was a short stack of books that laid on the small dining table. Jeno had brought those when he visited the previous night, raving about them to you and offered to read them together.

“It’s really cozy here,” Jeno commented before turning back to face you. “I love it.” The words were so sincere that you almost had to look away from him, unable to meet his eyes when you had yet to tell him the truth about the entire situation. Instead you smiled and directed him to your bedroom - where he thankfully had a drawer of spare clothes - and the bathroom so that he could freshen up while you cooked dinner.

Dinner mainly involved Jeno asking you questions which, fortunately, didn’t include your relationship. When the meal ended, the two of you continued to sit at the table but remained silent. It was clear that Jeno wanted to say something to you. He was fiddling with the cutlery, his stare directed at a spot on the table and you were content with sipping on your water while you waited for him to speak up.

“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” He finally said quietly, his eyes slowly meeting yours. You almost choked on your water and you at him with wide eyes as he continued. “Whatever it is,” he said while he scanned your face, “we’ll be okay, won’t we? We will be and even. . . even if we won’t be, if I don’t go back to how I was”–he stared into your eyes, his tone incredibly sincere–“I promise I love you. And I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of our lives.”

Your breath caught in your throat while Jeno stared at you pleadingly, as if he couldn’t bear it if you were to leave him. That was when you knew you couldn’t leave him in the dark anymore. He thought he loved you and that you were married and you couldn’t continue allowing him to believe that lie. Not when he was looking at you like that.

“You’re the prince, not a blacksmith,” you stated in a rush, placing your cup onto the table, no longer able to contain the truth. “This morning Donghyuck was supposed to keep an eye on you because you like going out into the city to be surrounded by the citizens but you evaded his watch and your memory got tampered with by those two people and,” you paused to catch your breath. “We’re so lucky that the King and Queen haven’t allowed you to be seen by the public because if they had, those two could have done much more worse things to you.”

Jeno put down the cutlery and reached over to cover your hand in his own, trying to comfort you by rubbing circles onto your skin with his thumb. “I won’t do that again,” he swore. “I’m sorry for making you worry.” A hint of a smile crept up onto his face, as he added, “I’m so lucky to be married to you.”

“Jeno, we aren’t married.” You corrected as kindly as you could manage. Which was a feat considering that he looked so happy and you didn’t want to be the reason why he wasn’t. “You gave me that ring as a birthday present.”

“With the intention of getting married, right?”

“No, Jeno. We aren’t together at all.”

Jeno stopped moving his thumb but kept his hand over yours. His gentle smile turned into a frown. “Do my parents not approve of you? Am I in an arranged marriage? I’ll break it off and we can run away with each other or something, because even though I’ve lost my memory, I can’t be imagining that you love me, can I? I have a drawer of clothes and you have those hooks so that our toothbrushes hang next to each other. And these books aren’t the only ones in here that are mine, I saw some on the bedside table with my name on the spines and– and– I see how you look at me.” His eyes were terribly sad and lost as he asked, quietly, “we love each other, don’t we?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, ready to be said. You were going to deny everything and inform him, gently, that you were strictly friends. Friends could love each other. Platonic love and soulmates existed! Except you couldn’t lie to him, again. Slowly, you slid your hand away from his and balled it into a tight fist on your lap.

“I can’t answer that right now,” you replied, your throat dry. “When your memory comes back, we can talk about this, okay?”

The silence that followed stretched on for what felt like eons. Eventually Jeno nodded but the silence remained, even as the two of you did the dishes and brushed your teeth. Jeno followed you like a shadow until you climbed into bed. He hovered at the door, his arms wound around his waist as he hunched over himself. When you gestured the space next to him, he slowly made his way over and slid under the covers. The two of you laid on your backs, a large space in the middle. You patted your hand around your mattress until your pinky met his. Jeno made no attempt to grab your hand in his although he didn’t retract his hand, either. Closing your eyes, you held his hand, slotted your fingers in between his and waited until sleep overcame you.

As your eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the brightness that filled the room, you became aware of how you were tucked under Jeno’s chin and how your arm was thrown around his waist. Your legs were tangled together and you needed to move before you drifted off to sleep again. It was difficult to remove yourself from him but somehow, you managed. After tiptoeing to the kitchen to grab a cup of water, you took a seat at the couch and looked at the pages you left on the coffee table so that you could pick one up and get to work.

“Morning,” Jeno greeted, his voice groggy. “What are you working on?” He asked as he took a seat beside you, placed his head on your shoulder and cuddled your arm.

“Some documents that needed to be finalized. I just need to edit some parts,” you answered as you tried not to concentrate on the warmth that he was radiating. It was tough but you handled it. “I’ll need to hand in it later. When are you planning to head back?”

“Kicking me out already?” Jeno asked before yawning. He rubbed his hair against your shoulder, “that hurts, y/n, we haven’t even talked about”–he let out another yawn–“last night.”

Knowing that it was futile to try to dislodge yourself from his hold, you stayed put. You worried at your bottom lip, unable to stop the nervousness that flooded your system. It was probably going to be a quick conversation. He was probably going to tell you that he hadn’t meant what he said last night and to forget all about it. Or maybe, hopefully, the two of you would finally address the feelings you had for each other because, and to use what he said last night, there was no way that you had imagined all those small moments that transpired between the two of you, was there?

“Alright,” you agreed, trying to think positively, “let’s talk about last night.”

Jeno removed himself from you. You adjusted your position so that you sat facing him with your legs pushed up against your chest, your arms wrapped around them securely. He seemed much more alert now, his eyes pinning you down with laser focus.

“We love each other, don’t we?” He asked, repeating his question from last night. Although he spoke with confidence, the insecurity buried in the depths of his eyes gave him away.

“Yes, Jeno,” you answered. “We’re friends, of course we love each other.” His mouth twisted unhappily, as if he ate something unpleasant, and was about to say something but you beat him to it. “But I think the two of us have wanted to be more than friends for a while now.” You said, a knot loosening in your chest once the words were out.

Jeno stretched his hand out towards your cheek and at his hesitance, you rested your cheek in the palm of his hand. “My parents approve of you and so does my sister. I’m not in an arranged marriage but if I was I’d break it off and run away with you.” You smiled into his palm and he mirrored it. “I’m so lucky to have you,” his eyes sparkled with adoration and he shifted closer to you, his hand still caressing your cheek. “I promise that I love you.”

You pressed your lips onto his warm palm. “I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of our lives.”

In response, Jeno tittered gleefully. His other hand came up to cup the other side of your face and then very gradually, he tilted his head and shut his eyes while he leaned in to kiss you. It was sweet and slow and felt as if the rest of the world had faded away. Jeno smiled into the kiss and when he pulled away, his eyes fluttering open, the smile remained on his face. His arms dropped back to his sides and the two of you engaged in prolonged eye contact before you broke it, throwing your head back to laugh and then launched yourself at him. Jeno caught you easily, laughing along with you as his right hand cupped the crown of your head, while his left arm wrapped around your waist.

“I know I’ve said it already,” Jeno whispered into your ear after pecking his lips softly on your temple, “but I’ll love you for the rest of our lives, too.” You kissed his neck in response, practically glowing with happiness.

#mark and donghyuck definitely would have walked into ur house #and the two of you would still be in the same position but the only difference is that both of u are asleep #hyuck would say something like: ‘aren’t like that my ass’#and mark would agree while laughing and say: ‘dude they’re so in love with each other’#which ensues a whole conversation about how painful it’s been to watch the 2 of u dance around each other #and cause jeno is a light sleeper he would absolutely wake up and probably woke up a little after they got in #and he’d tell them how the 2 of u already confessed ur love for each other so could they shut up and leave pls cause they’re too loud #hyuck would say no and plant himself on the other couch dragging mark with him and jeno would groan and say:#‘i’m the prince u have to listen to me!!!’ but neither of them leave and when u wake up the 4 of u have brunch together #tysm for the request!!!!!! hopefully u like it 😖#it was longer than i thought it would be tbh i was only going for like 2-3k idk whats wrong with me #but it is what it is i guess lol #the mark au is coming next btw!!! spoiler: its an addams family au 🤪#anyway here come the tags:#nct scenarios #nct #nct au #nct u #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream jeno #nct jeno #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #jeno fluff #lee jeno

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Redamancy - Chapter Two (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, mention of murder.

wc; 8.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

One second, you’re running through a dark forest. With your heart pounding in your ears, hot breath tingling your lips, legs aching and burning the more you push on. You weave through the trees, fingertips scraping against the bark. You’ll move one way, but jerk the other when you hear a voice call your name. Loud, teasing, and hauntingly familiar. You reach the top of the cliff, with nowhere else to run. One blurry glance behind you, and you know that you can’t stay.

Your only option is to jump.

Before you have the chance to reconsider, the wind is already whistling in your ears, clothes painfully whipping at your skin. You can see the water coming closer and closer, the jarring rocks becoming more clear. From the height you jumped at, the water is concrete, and the rocks are spears. You’re about to hit the water and feel every single bone break in your body--

The next second, you’re jolting awake, now in the Capitol. For a moment, you can’t catch your breath, feeling the painful ache in your lungs from sucking in air while you ran. With shaky fingers, you wrap your hands around your throat, closing your eyes. You’re safe, they can’t get you here.

The only place they reign in is your nightmares, and even then sometimes they lose. They just got lucky this time, they caught you off guard. Next time, they’re not likely to be as lucky.

When you feel like you’ve got a hold of reality again, you open your eyes and stare into the sun yellow room. It takes a second for you to realize that it’s not the morning dull color, it’s the afternoon one. The sun that makes the room warmer and feel like home. You sit straight up in bed, immediately looking to the clock.

It’s past noon. Your tributes went to the Training Center by themselves, with hardly any direction. You doubt that Elysia gave them the advice that you would, you’re not even sure if she’s authorized to say stuff like that. Which means that they might have just gone and screwed up their big debut to the gamemakers, something that will surely have an effect on their score later on.

You bury your face in your hands, letting out a soft groan. You wipe the sleep from your eyes, and then slip out of bed to take a quick shower to wake you up. As soon as you’re done, you let the Capitol machines have their way with your hair, making it as soft as silk, and free of tangles. All that’s left to do is to style, but you leave it alone today.

You spin the ring around on your finger, already feeling nerves growing in your stomach as if Elysia will yell at you for slacking on your duties. Out of all your years of mentoring alone, you’ve never slept in. You’ve never had a day where you just forgot to get up on time to tell the tributes what to do.

You knew you should’ve taken it easy on the alcohol last night. It wasn’t even that you, Elysia and the stylists stayed up late, because you didn’t. You talked for maybe half an hour to forty-five minutes after Finnick left. You went straight to bed after that because you were afraid something like this would happen. At least you were right, and you know that you won’t be doing this ever again.

As much as you enjoy being around your Capitol friends, and the nights where you can celebrate like that, they’re not good for you. They throw you off, and since this year has already been different from the start, you’re already on your way down a different path. There’s no reason to start slacking now.

Elysia isn’t in the dining room, and she isn’t in the living room either. The apartment is as empty as it was yesterday when you came around for lunch. You should’ve expected this, with your luck, Elysia is doing what you’re supposed to be doing. And she’s already swamped with trying to keep things on track.

You pause in the doorway of the hallway, staring into the apartment, feeling tired and miserable. You don’t know where to go, or how to start. To the stylists? Find Elysia? Wait for the tributes to come back and tell you how their first day went? Is there even time for a quick bite before you go? Probably not.

You take a single step towards the door, figuring that you’ll start off with the easiest place to go; the stylists, and work your way from there. They might have some idea on where your trusty Capitol escort is. Then, the front door opens, and you’re met with Finnick’s red face, running a hand through his hair.

The door slips shut behind him, he’s definitely distracted. It’s like he doesn’t even see you, with how he moves to the living room and turns on the tv. You open your mouth, going to question what he’s doing, but he finds the channel. There’s no time to ask, you gravitate towards the television set as if it’s got you under mind control.

Once in a blue moon, the gamemakers will hint at what the arena will be. It’s rare, even more rare than allowing two tributes to win the Hunger Games together. Finnick hears the tapping of your shoes against the steps, and looks over his shoulder briefly. Your mouth falls open slightly, eyes glued to the screen.

The tributes are never allowed to see the broadcast, and the gamemakers show it once. Which is exactly why Finnick’s out of breath, he must have ran all the way here to make it in time. It’s a good thing that you got up thirty minutes ago, or you would’ve had to take Finnick’s word for what they’re showing.

It’s a beautiful landscape, like it is every year. One that manages to look better than the last. The Capitol has done it all when it comes to arenas; from deserts, to islands, to frozen tundras, to cities that are nothing but crumbs after the rebellion. They’re all intricately planned, and they were ready years before they were actually used.

The Capitol doesn’t show much, only one snapshot of the arena. You have to figure out the mystery of what this year’s nightmare personality may be. What will be the final twist that they have to offer? During your games, there wasn’t one. You and Finnick made it entertaining all by yourself. But other games need that little push to make it memorable.

The picture on screen is of a deep green hill with thin trees and colorful flowers. They won’t do much for hiding, not even climbing. They’ll hold body weight, but it’s hard to climb trees that you can almost wrap your body around twice. There’s a stream, maybe a bit bigger than a stream. Blue water, clear as day. Makes you suspicious that it’s not as clean as it appears to be. It’s hard to trust good-looking water after you’ve been betrayed once before.

There’s a small building, a shack like the one you had in your games. Only, this one is much more beaten down. It’s roof is caving in, definitely looks like wood rot, it won’t provide much protection. Especially since the door is half gone and there’s no windows. A strong enough gust of wind could blow the place down.

But that’s not the main attraction, something as simple as a shack could be easily written off with the monster behind it. In fact, you don’t think you’ve seen anything more terrifying in the Hunger Games before. At the start of this new decade, the gamemakers are trying something new this year. Luminous fear.

It’s a large dam, a great wall of grey concrete. The only thing that stands between the rest of the arena, and an unfathomable amount of water. You’re not sure that knowing how to swim could save anyone in this situation. Just staring at it, you think that there’s a ton of water being hidden behind the dam.

You’ve never seen a dam in person before. You know that District Five has one, though. It’s what gives the districts and the Capitol most of their power. Get rid of that, and there’s a nation-wide blackout. From what you’ve gathered when you’ve seen it on tv, it’s fucking huge. A hundred times bigger than what’s going to be in the 70th Hunger Games arena.

This dam compared to the one in District Five, is childsplay. But that’s where you stop underestimating it, because it’s still dangerous. The gamemakers wouldn’t choose to shower it unless they had ill intentions. You cross your arms slightly, using one of your hands to play with your lower lip while you stare.

Unfortunately, you can’t tell the tributes about what you’ve seen. Neither can anyone else, it’s cheating and the tributes will be targeted inside of the arena because of it. If they tell anyone that they know about it beforehand, it’s an immediate target. If the tribute never goes towards where the snapshot was given, then they’re a target too.

Normally, no one breaks the rules because of this. It’s too risky to have the Capitol find out. But you’re sure that Districts One and Two will find a way around this rule, because they always do. It’s their tributes funeral, the faster they get killed, the better chances your tributes have.

The program zooms in on the dam a little, you’re sure that they’re getting ready to take it away. So, you try and memorize the last that you can, thinking that you’ll need to locate the placement in the arena when you have the chance. But you’re stopped when you see something dark on the screen. You move forward, squinting, wiping the screen under the assumption that it’s a hair or a smear of alcohol from Pleurisy when she continued to drink last night.

But it doesn’t come off, and the more you stare, the more your blood begins to run cold. It’s not on your side of the screen, it’s on theirs. It’s thin, barely noticeable if you’re not looking for it. And you just found it by accident. They zoomed in on purpose.

No human structure is unbreakable. Not even the better creations.

This wasn’t a mistake, they wanted a mentor to notice that the dam is cracking.

“What is that?” Finnick asks.

“A crack.” Your hand falls, you back up to look at the whole scene one last time before it disappears, “There’s more.”

It’s gone right after. There’s a warning issued right after not to warn the tributes or find a way to prepare them in advance. Doing so will result in immediate trouble for the mentor. But your mind is already finding ways to make up for it.

You can’t brainstorm out loud here, maybe somewhere in the street, away from the Tribute Center. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, Finnick turns off the tv since the main show is over, and they’re not talking about it at all.

A low hum sounds from you. A plot is already beginning in your head for a subtle way to push your tributes in the right direction. You’d say that you’ve never cheated in the Hunger Games before, but then again, your tributes have trained since they were children.

You’re already cheaters, what’s a little more?

“I talked to the tributes this morning.”

“About what?” You ask, pressing your lips together for a moment.

You then turn your body away, heading up the steps and to the dining room table. You wish you could write your thoughts onto a pad of paper. But paper is traceable, they’ll be able to find out that it came from you guys.

“About training.” Finnick says, following you, “You weren’t up this morning.”

“I had too much to drink last night.” You thank the avox that delivers your late lunch. You pause for a moment, thinking over what Finnick has just said, and then you turn to him, “You were at the table this morning?”

“You said you would fill me in.” Finnick says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I figured the best time for you to do that would be this morning before you got busy. But you didn’t show up so…” he trails off for a moment, picking up a sugar-covered grape, turning it over in his fingers, “I told the tributes that they should show off their skills to the careers.

“They told me that they don’t want to ally themselves with the careers, and I told them that was fine. They don’t have to succumb to the pressure of the tradition of teaming up. All that matters is that they show the careers that they’re just as good and they’ll be missing out on two good tributes.” Finnick looks at you.

“And they’re keeping at least one hidden?”

“Yes.” Finnick nods, and then eats the grape, “I warned them that this might start an early rivalry that they probably won’t be able to remedy. Annie and Marsh don’t care, as long as the careers won’t try and be friends, they’ll figure it out. I don’t think they want an alliance with anyone.”

“Figured that much out already.” You say, “Thank you for doing that for me.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, his eyes casting downwards. You two eat in silence, and just when it seems like he’s about to leave, Elysia comes back.

“Did you see?” She asks, she’s pulling off some black gloves that she’s wearing. Actually, she seems to be dressed in all black.

“Who died?” You ask in return, earning a snort from Finnick.

Elysia rolls her eyes, “The broadcast—“

“Yeah, we saw it.”

You and Finnick get up from the table, making a triangle with Elysia. You rub your face slightly, “They showed the dam for a reason, we’ve already figured it out. This year is a handful already.”

Elysia stares between you and Finnick for a moment, eyes shifting from side to side like she’s deciding something. Like if you and Finnick are finally back to being a team, or are coincidentally together at the moment. Although, the two of you were sitting at the table together, so you can see why.

You don’t mind teamwork. If Finnick wants to go all in, he can be your guest. You’re not the problem here, maybe pushing him isn’t a perfect idea, but neither is letting him run free. The second that Finnick comes to the conclusion that he’s ready for it again, you’ll be unstoppable. All he needs to do is say yes.

“The tributes might be feeling a little overwhelmed after today,” she says, her eyes darken a bit. Secret meanings, they’re hidden everywhere. “The balcony would be a good place for a pep talk after dinner.”

Elysia’s a rule breaker too, it seems. Suggesting that you take your tributes out there and warn them in some way. This is why you like her, she’s not naive and stupid like the other escorts. You got lucky, placed with a woman who might not be on your side all the time, but there are times she waivers and caves.

“I think they might like the lights of the city.” you agree, nodding your head, “Smart thinking.”

Finnick’s caught on too, he nods, and then stretches his arms, “I’m going to take a quick nap. The two of you will be here to collect the tributes, so I’m off duty.”

He turns, heading up the steps. Elysia bids him a short goodbye, and then the two of you wait for him to be gone completely before she starts to gossip, “You should’ve seen him this morning. Normally, he’s not so serious but he stepped up when he realized that you weren’t coming out.” she pauses, and then her eyebrows push in, “Was that on purpose?”

“No, it wasn’t.” you shift on your feet, checking the clock on the wall. There’s about half an hour before the tributes come back, “I’m not surprised. Once a victor, always a victor. It’s hard not to mentor when you know that the tributes need your help. It’s hard not to be overbearing and in control, either. Took me a while to figure that out.”

“Well, I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Don’t plan on it.” you tell her, “I only slacked because I drank. I’m just lucky Finnick didn’t stay out too late. How’s the Capitol liking Four?”

“They’re excited about the volunteers, I’ve been talking them up all day. I’m going to go back out for a little while and check up on Laurel and Pleurisy. Have anything you want me to pass along?”

“No, but we should probably have the token talk tonight as dinner, or tomorrow at breakfast.”

She snaps her fingers, “I knew I forgot something this morning. You threw me off.”

“The last time, I promise.”

“Good.” She says, heading down the steps, “Try not to obsess over the broadcast, (Y/n). Annie and Marsh are fit, it’ll take a miracle to bring them down.”

“Don’t jinx us.” you joke.

She leaves through the elevator, you wander around the apartment for a minute, deciding if it’s worth it to stay out here. But in the end, you sit on the couch and pull out a book to read. Capitol fashion, the past trends and how they affect today. The last time you checked, they’re still drooling over the idea of gems and expensive fabrics.

Anything to make them look expensive and upper class. But you know their secrets, after years of mentoring and talking to sponsors, you’ve begun to notice when they’re faking. People who aren’t rich, invest in the Hunger Games in hopes that they’ll win it all back. The betting room is an intoxicating place if you’re in debt and need a place to be flashy.

The truth is, the Capitol isn’t all silver and gold. They’ve got their own lower class, but the difference between their lower class and the districts is that the districts will help each other. If your neighbors needed a babysitter or dinner for the night, your doors were open. You’re all a tight-knit community normally, but with the Hunger Games, it makes you even closer.

Annie and Marsh come through the elevator, foreheads glistening, sweat stains under their arms and down their backs. Needless to say, you think that they had a good workout. They pause in the doorway, Marsh leans over to catch his breath, Annie seems pretty happy.

“Hey,” you fold the book halfway, “Sorry for not being up this morning. How did your first day go?”

“Good!” Annie beams, “We’re good at a lot of things in there, so there’s not much to learn. I think that we’ll spend the last day going through stations that we don’t know just in case.”

“That’s good. Anyone offer an alliance?”

“Not really looking for one.” Marsh stands, he’s in worse shape than Annie is. His face is redder, like he ran a couple of miles in the heat, “But no offers, we’ll let you know if there are any.”

You nod, “Go shower and get ready for dinner, Elysia will come and get you when it’s time.” you watch as they start to go, “Oh! Also, be quiet in the hall.”

“We will.” Annie says.

You read in the living room for a little while longer, but end up packing it up and heading to your room to relax and make a phone call back home. Reed’s the one that picks up, letting you know that everything is going just fine. He passes the phone around after that, you get an array of greetings and questions about what’s happening and what you think is going on.

Unfortunately, you can’t tell them that you saw the arena, either. It’s a surprise for them too. You know that Reed won’t tell anyone, he’s got the whole Capitol-Hunger Games thing on lock. But sometimes Mox forgets what’s supposed to be secrets, and what isn’t. One slip to Caspian, and the whole secret will be out. And it’ll be traced right back to you, because you’re the one that keeps the Dorazio families company.

You wrap it up with Alyssum, listening to her talk about whatever comes to mind. You only get off the phone when you see that dinner is drawing closer. By the time you’re able to get off the phone, you barely make it to the table before the tributes. You and Finnick ask lots of questions at dinner, curious about how they’re feeling and sizing up the competition.

As always, every single year, the only threat they can come up with is the careers. You constantly remind them that they’re careers too, and today proved that, “If you showed off like Finnick told you to, you just threatened them and everyone else in that gym. And it’s going to be even worse now that you’re not allies with them. The other tributes are going to have two groups to worry about. You two, and the careers.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the careers pick you guys out first in the arena.” Finnick says, picking at his food, “You’re going to be the first threat, especially if you score high during training.”

You snap your fingers, catching Annie and Marshs’ attention, since their eyes have drifted, “Don’t get nervous. It just means that your odds are increasing, and more people are going to like you. It’s an opportunity, remember that.”

“What if they offer an alliance?” Annie asks, shaking her head slightly, “They haven’t yet, but what if they ask?”

“You tell them no.” Finnick says, “Saying it straight to their faces is going to get the message across. They’re more likely to back off then, but it’ll be temporary.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s obvious.”

Marsh clears his throat, “I’m worried that they’ll follow us after the bloodbath.”

“Don’t stay in the cornucopia.” you say, “In fact, I wouldn’t go that deep in. You’ll get sponsors, they’ll fill the gaps that you’re missing. You two just have to focus on running. The careers will be caught up in the bloodbath, as they always are. They’ll be too busy to follow you guys.”

“I hope so.” Marsh says.

You sigh, sitting back in the chair, “You guys need to remember that you’re ready for this. Four and five years of fighting and memorizing. You are just as dangerous as they are at this point. You’re scared now, think that you might be inferior, but the truth is that in a fight, you’re going to hold up. You’ll see.”

Think down, you’ll perform down. You want to tell them that the longer they underestimate themselves, the more they won’t realize their true potential. They’ll never measure up the way that they’re supposed to. You open your mouth, to say exactly what you’re thinking, because you’re the mentor and you should know better than them.

Finnick’s eyes shift to you, waiting for what you’re going to say. But you hesitate, because you know that mindset doesn’t work for everyone. You got chosen for the Hunger Games, you didn’t volunteer like they did. Unlike them, you didn’t have a choice but to go. The only thing that kept you going the entire time before and inside of the arena was family, and thinking that you were more than you actually were.

You’re not sure that’s going to work with them. They know who they are, they know the things they’ve learned and the worth they hold. They’re just nervous, you don’t need to tell them that they’ll do fine inside of the arena. Everyone has their moments of doubt, right? But you don’t remember having it this bad, and considering you age, you should’ve been depressed.

Once again, it was family that was keeping you alive. The constant visualization of you being the last one standing while your name was announced over the arena. You also knew that you were going to do well that year. It was a gut feeling. Just like how it’s a gut feeling that Annie or Marsh is gonna live this year.

You close your mouth, smiling slightly at Finnick. His lips part momentarily, and then he mimics your own smile. You think he’s realized this too. The constant reassurance of your tributes is babying them. They’re just nervous, they know that they’re going to do well. You could let up on the pressure, but they need it. They’re going to be under pressure inside of the arena, too.

“Are you guys done? There’s something I want to talk to you guys about.” you wipe your mouth with the napkin, and then stand up from the table.

“I--yeah.” Annie carefully stacks her plates and bowls into a neat pile for the avox to collect. Marsh is much sloppier, but tries to be as considerate as she is. You think that she has experience in this type of thing.

You raise your eyebrows at Finnick, who’s still seated at the table. He shakes his head, “I’m busy tonight.”

“Stay safe, then.” you tell him, and then start up the steps, “Come on, you two.”

They don’t say a word behind you, not even a question on where you’re taking them. You bring them deeper into the apartment, around to the balcony that’s off to the side. The top floor--District Twelve’s floor--has a better balcony, one that blends in better. But you’ve explored this place plenty of times, you know it’s secrets now.

You hum, unlock the door and then open it. A gust of wind blows through the doors, warm and welcoming. It reminds you of the salty air from District Four, also hot during the summer after baking in the sun all day. Annie goes through the door first, thanking you quietly for holding it open. You press your hand to Marsh’s back, pushing him out a little quicker.

Looking behind you, there’s no one. The hallway is dark because you didn’t turn on the light. And it’s empty, because the floor’s don’t hold peacekeepers. They rarely even have Capitol attendants waiting around every corner. Which means that you guys should be just fine outside. Since it’s windy, it’ll be harder to hear you if there are cameras and microphones.

You shut the door tightly behind you, and join the tributes at the railing. The city below is bright and alive, as it always is at night. The Capitol is full of a bunch of insomniacs. They never are up during the morning, but they’re wide awake at night. Sometimes, you think that you can relate to them in this sense, but for a different reason. For a while, you were afraid of the dark too.

Marsh leans over the railing, like he’s testing its sturdiness. Your eyes scan over the wall, until you find the windchime. Pulling it down from the roof, you toss it right over the edge without a single warning to the tributes. On the way down, it continues to clink and whistle.

“What was that for?” Marsh asks, eyebrows knit together, eyes on you.

“Just in case you get any bright ideas. Watch.” you say, and they do. It takes a couple of seconds, but the windchimes hit the forcefield and come bouncing right back. When you catch them in your hand, they’re as black as charcoal and no longer sounding as delicate as they did before.

You crush the wood in your fist and watch the wood turn to crumbs. Then, you drop it off to the side. Marsh has now backed off of the railing, crossing his arms. Annie takes one step back, but still looks over the edge curiously.

“We’re close in age.” you start, looking out to the city too, “I’m only two-three years older than you two. Finnick is even less than that, so I can understand why it’s hard to believe us when we tell you that you’ll do just fine inside of the games. We haven’t been inside of the games for a while, and our track record is far from perfect when it comes to mentoring.”

You look at them now, you’ve got their attention, “Believe me when I say that this year is different. You two are special, more capable than the tributes in the past were. Your lives have revolved around this idea since you signed up for the boarding school. You have fought hard to get to this point. Don’t give up on yourselves now. This is the most important part.

“It’s hard to know what to prepare yourselves with when it comes to training.” you pause for a second, trying to figure out how to word this. You know exactly what they should use, even if you never used it personally, “Tomorrow, I want you to focus on agility.”

You look between their faces, trying to read their expressions. Annie is smart, you know that she’ll catch on. Marsh is a different story, he’s always driven by explanations. You can’t give him one this time, which might ruin your subtle plan to push them in the right way. In the gymnasium, they have blocks for agility training. You hop from block to block, that gradually gets higher. It’s timed, but that’s not the important part.

They’ll learn how to assess the ground that they’re going for. Maybe help them when it comes to picking and choosing where to place their feet, strengthening their confidence in non-dominant feet. The better they’re at with going up and down uneven ground, the better.

“Okay.” Annie says, “I was looking at that today already, so I think that it would be a good idea.” Her eyes then land on Marsh, who stares right at her. He trusts her, that’s a good thing when it comes to allies. It might be his downfall if she ever plans on betraying him, though.

“Sure.” Marsh finally agrees, and then looks at you, “You’re the expert.”

“Don’t get me wrong, this is your games. You’re the ones going into the arena, so you should be planning out what you want. But trust me on this one, okay?” the wind has died down, the previous cover is now gone, “Go to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, (Y/n).” Annie says, her eyes show that she understands, and you give her a gentle nod.

They go back inside, but you stay outside for a little while longer, leaning against the railing as you stare into the city of the Capitol. A place that’s so pretty on the outside, but absolutely ugly on the inside. The definition of how looks can be deceiving.

Hopefully that idea can apply to your tributes next.

“Good morning!” You yell, clapping your hands together as you come out from the hallway.

No one is looking awake this morning, and you can’t really blame them. Annie and Marsh have been working hard at training for the past two days. Lucky for them, today is the last. But it also means the private training scores happen this afternoon.

Finnick leans his head against his hand, watching as you come to the table. He looks fairly amused by your enthusiasm, and how your tributes are lacking.

“In the Training Center today, you’ll have the first half of the day for training, but after lunch is time for scoring.” You sit at your spot, “Don’t stress out about it too much. If you kept a skill that you’re good at hidden, then you’ll do just fine. After training, you’ll come back here. And then we’ll wait to see what happens.”

The avox delivers a plate of food, you don’t hesitate with starting to eat. Honestly, the more you look at your tributes, the more they start to look green. They’re picking at their food, not really looking at you or Finnick. It’s definitely the nerves kicking up again. Yesterday they did so good with not even feeling it.

You share a brief look with Finnick, he’s playing with the rope bracelet around his wrist. It looks exactly like the one he had when you guys were inside of the arena, but you know that it’s new. If you remember correctly, the last bracelet broke just after the Victory Tour. Guess it fulfilled it’s duty, and Finnick got a new one because of it.

“Tomorrow we’ll have a different sort of day, it’ll be more relaxing,” you continue, picking up the mug of light brown coffee, “And then it’s interviews.”

“Just like that, huh?” Marsh mutters, pushing around the food on his plate.

“You guys should eat, you’ll need the energy.” Finnick says, “Even if it’s not much.”

Annie listens, but Marsh’s heart still isn’t into it. You try to keep conversation light with them, but they’re duds, so you switch to Elysia to talk about how tomorrow will happen. Elysia knows more about proper etiquette when it comes to being on stage, so she’ll be the one taking care of how Annie walks in heels and how they respond to questions.

Which just leaves you and Finnick to decide their personalities on stage.

You wish Annie and Marsh good luck, “The first thing you do in that private room is breathe, got it? Calm yourselves down.” you then give them a smile and let them go.

Elysia isn’t too far behind, going to do her daily duties of rounding up people that could potentially sponsor your tributes in the arena. It leaves you and Finnick at the table, left to figure things out on your own.

“I think we can put Annie down as kind.” You say, “Or have her try to talk smart to get people to look at her more.” you rub your forehead with an open palm, “But if she scores low, then talking smart won’t do anything.”

“At least one of them have to act dangerous.” Finnick says, you nod slightly, “Or the both of them. Even if they score low, they can still be mean on stage.”

“It’ll just take the effect of it away.” pressing your lips together, you stare off at the wall for a while, “We’re just going to have to wait and see, I guess.”

When you place your hand down on the table a little too hard, you can hear your ring clink against the table. Standing, you stretch your arms and move some hair out of your face.

“Where are you off to?”

“Tribute tattoos.” you say, and then pause, “Not for actually tributes, for my parents. I should be back before they’re done, but to be fair, when we came back from ours, Anchor and Mags were nowhere to be seen. It’ll be good for them, not knowing what to do next.” you start down the steps, “Teaches them some independence.”

You get all the way to the front door, looking behind you to Finnick. He’s absently staring at you, like he’s waiting for something. A while ago, when you and Finnick were still dating, you used to describe him as a golden retriever, because he’s loyal and would love to go with you, if you asked.

You wonder what happened to the loyal part. You press down on the door handle, “You’re invited if you want to go. I think they take walk-ins.”

“One of us should be here.” He says.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” you let out a small laugh, “Or are you just scared of needles, Odair?” You give him a cheeky grin, opening the door and leaving, “I’ll see you later.”

You get all the way to the elevator, inside with the button pressed when Finnick rounds the corner, hand covering the doors before they can close. It’s hard not to give him another big smile, especially with the annoyed look on his face. Secretly, you know that he liked the invite, and he’s going to enjoy your company.

“What’s with the tattoo obsession?” he asks.

You scoff, “Obsession? This’ll be my second one, thank you.”

“And the first one being…?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

You roll your eyes. You’re pretty sure he was around for this one, but you lift the hair off of the back of your neck anyway, turning to let him see. It should be a D3, obviously for District Three. You got it for Blaire, you knew him for so little time, but you’re sure he was your best friend inside of the arena.

“Oh, I remember that.” Finnick says, “Looks like it needs a touch-up.” he mutters, and then you feel cold fingers against the back of your neck. He runs his finger over it, but it’s gone quickly, “Just for Blaire, right?”

“Didn’t really know Verda.” you let your hair down.

“Yeah, that’s true.” He says, the two of you walk side by side out of the elevator and to the front doors, which is currently fairly crowded by a group.

They’re not dressed in bright colors or solid white, so they can’t be Capitol people or peacekeepers. And if they are stylists, they’re definitely dialed back a lot like Laurel is. Out of all the stylists that you’ve seen come and go, she’s definitely more tame than the rest. Even your prep team is pretty normal-looking.

The closer you get, the more it dawns on you. It’s a pack of mentors, four of them all gathered together in the middle of the lobby. You take the initiative, going in front of Finnick to lead him through. From afar, it was hard to see who exactly, but now you know that it’s District One and Two’s mentors; Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria and Wade.

You’ve worked with them in the past, they’re not bad people to be around. But they have the career mindset going on all the time, it’s hard to be around them. They all won their games years ago--with the exception of Wade, who won a year or two ago--and they’re still living life like that doesn’t matter.

You guess the career complex really themselves worked into their brains. Whereas your tributes have moments of anxiety and hesitation, their tributes never do. But a downside of that is the impulsive and brashness when they’re inside of the arena. It never hurts to think things through, but they don’t do that. It’s why you knew that Trink and Lennox would follow your treasure trail, because they wouldn’t think ahead about how they’re wandering right into your trap.

To be fair, though, they did think that you were severely injured. You also were several years younger than them, and had never trained the way they did for their entire lives. Then again, you scored high, you took down Horace. They should never have kept you around for as long as they did. It’s the same reason why you took down Allio; because he was a threat. And you were too.

“Hey, guys.” you call, making them look over.

You’re sure that they’re getting ready for a celebration, considering their tributes never score badly. However, you think this is the last day where all the tributes will get to intermingle the way they have been for the past couple of days. Tomorrow they’re inside, the day after they get brief moments on stage and after interviews to swap compliments. Then they’re straight to the arena.

“(Y/n)!” Cashmere says, she opens her arm, you go ahead and give her a hug, “We haven’t seen you since the Tribute Parade. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re hiding from us.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely hiding.” you laugh, they do too.

“Our tributes want to have an alliance with yours.” Enobaria says, “They haven’t had the chance to ask, so they wanted us to give it a try.”

You open your mouth to tell them that it’s not going to happen this year, but Finnick’s speaking over you, “Our tributes aren’t really looking for an alliance this year, they want to go it alone.”

Every single one of them share the same confused expression. You almost laugh, but clear your throat instead, “Annie and Marsh are working as a pair this year. We didn’t want to push them on an alliance if they didn’t want one.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Cashmere says, “I hope they know what they’re doing in the arena.”

“They’re definitely a couple of fighters, that’s for sure.” you shift on your feet, and steal a glance at Finnick to make sure that he’s not uncomfortable. You could talk to these four all day, it’s hard not to make friends with the other mentors when you’re by yourself.

At some point, their sponsors became your sponsors by default. You worked together, all hands in to make sure that one of your tributes would come out. It worked for a while, Cashmere and Gloss got a male victor almost immediately, and so did Enobaria and Kurt. The only reason why the new male victor from One isn’t a mentor is because Cashmere and Gloss are siblings; they like to work together.

“Two volunteers in the same year is new.” Gloss says slowly, you and him stare at each other, “What are you guys up to?”

“Same thing you guys are.”

Wade sneers, “Clearly it isn’t as good.”

Your eyes find Wade, he hasn’t warmed up to you the same way that Kurt did. He’s still a naive boy, only eighteen. He’s still got a lot to learn when it comes to mentoring. That making enemies shouldn’t be the top priority on the list. When your tributes team up, you’ll want the other mentors to be cooperative.

“I’d be careful if I were you.” Finnick says, you can hear the smile in his words, “You might just end up eating those words.”

One last look over him, and then it’s back to your favorite three, “Anyway, you guys know Finnick, right?”

“Yeah! Honestly I was a little surprised when I saw him at the Tribute Parade.” Cashmere says, “What’s got you back on the move, Peacock?”

You can hardly hide the surprise that washes over you. The use of his Capitol-given nickname has got to sting, especially with everything that the Capitol does to him. You know that every time that it’s brought up with you, your mood dies instantly and you make sure that the person never brings it up again.

You press your lips together, eyes slowly making their way to him. Finnick’s a lot smoother than you are when it comes to holding back his emotions sometimes, “(Y/n)’s pretty convincing when she’s threatening you.”

A smile creeps onto your face, “I only had to do it once, so you know it’s pretty effective.”

“It’s nice to see you two together again.” Enobaria says, “Where are you two off to?”

“I’m getting a tattoo, I invited Finnick along.” the clock on the wall says that you’ve got about a half hour before your appointment, “We should probably get going, don’t want to make my favorite artist unhappy.”

“It was nice to see you.” Gloss says, “We’ll pass on the word to our tributes.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you guys later.” you wave, to your favorite three.

You only get a couple steps away, before you’re grabbing Wade’s collar with both hands, yanking him towards you. He’s quick, pressing both of his hands to your shoulders and leaning away. But his eyes are searching your face, panic expressed through his eyes at the dead serious look you’re giving him.

“Next time, you should watch how you talk to me. Otherwise, you’ll have a pretty problem on your hands.” you shove him back, “And my eyes are up here, fuckhead.”

You hold the door open for Finnick, give Wade a final glare, and then turn your back to them. After you’ve rounded the corner, you roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“Well, you beat me to it.” Finnick says, “I was going to say something.”

“I’m on top of it. I’ve always been on top of it.” you then give Finnick a smile, “Not my first rodeo, cowboy.”

Finnick’s face twists, “Don’t call me that, ever.”

You laugh at his face, “Bet it’s better than being called Peacock, huh?”

He shrugs, “I don’t mind it all that much. It could be worse.” and then his eyes fall on you, suggesting your title without even saying a word.

Your jaw sets, you grit your teeth and look away. You don’t want to be known as a name so harsh, it’s not who you are. Only in unique moments does the name seem to fit like it does. Leave it to Finnick to get something so delicate and flowery, and for you to be known as the opposite.

The Executioner. And yet, you can’t get any of your tributes to follow in the same bloody footsteps that you’ve walked.

“I wish they’d picked something else.”

“Like what?” Finnick asks, it’s quiet for a moment, until he breaks it with his own laugh, “The Betrayer.”

“Traitor.” you correct, “And to be fair, I’ve heard that one too. During the Victory Tour, don’t you remember District Two shouting that at me? They weren’t very happy.”

“Who cares what District Two thinks?” Finnick scoffs, “District Eight felt the same way about me. It’s not my fault that their older teenagers don’t know how to take care of themselves.”

That’s fair, actually. One of the tributes was eighteen, the other was seventeen. Both went at Finnick, you think that the girl died first and the boy died second. He came around later when you were half-dead inside of the cave. Finnick never stopped working for the title even while you were gone.

“Either way, I got the short straw.”

Finnick’s voice is quiet, “I think it makes you fierce.”

You look over your shoulder, eyes finding Finnick’s. Soft, green, gentle. Genuine. He’s the first to smile, the light reaching his eyes. Just for a second, you can see the boy he used to be, making your heart twist sadly. You won’t ever get him back, will you?

You smile too.

The tattoo’s don’t take long, just like how you expected. Permanently embedded in the skin on your collarbone, are the names of your parents. With Ryatt, your father, on top, and your mother, Aesira, on bottom. You would’ve got them over your heart, but you and Finnick agreed that it was too cheesy.

Finnick decided to go down the same path you did. So, after you got your tattoos done, you sat off to the side and watched as Finnick got his own family on his left shoulder blade. Just like how your parents are gone, his entire family is gone too, including his younger brother.

That summer was by far the hardest for the both of you.

It took months to find out, but eventually Laurel came around with the details. The following year, when you were eighteen and Finnick had turned seventeen, you were told exactly why everything crashed and burned the year before.

The Capitol is sick, a lot worse than you originally thought. Forget the marketing towards new victors, and the Hunger Games themselves. If a victor is good-looking and sponsors do ‘well’, they’re given the victor as a reward. President Coriolanus Snow himself talks to the victor, tells them that they either go into prostitution, or they get a surprise disaster.

Well, Finnick didn’t decline at first. He came back to the Tribute Center and broke up with you, actually. Finnick tried to back out of the deal a couple of days later, but Snow had already made up his mind. Finnick missed an important arrangement that Snow set up, and in return, Snow killed Finnick’s entire family in one swoop without batting an eye.

You vaguely remember Finnick being upset, but it really came down on him when you got back to District Four. You knew about his family dying when you came back, not all the rest. The only people Finnick invited to the funeral was your family, and that was the last time the two of you have ever been close. After that, the warmth turned to ice, and there was no reviving it.

You can’t imagine coming home to an empty house every year. You don’t know how Finnick does it. Even if he doesn’t want to take part in the mentorship or the boarding school, you’d think that he’d come out and train teenagers, anyway. It’s better than being shut in a place so quiet and cemetery-like. The times you’re alone in your own house gives you chills.

Finnick doesn’t seem so sullen after the tattoo. He looks a little more alive, actually. He doesn’t have to say it, you already know that he’s glad he came along. The two of you end up coming after the tributes, though. It’s well past lunch, almost time for dinner.

As much as you enjoy Finnick’s presence, you end up outside on the balcony again by yourself. You like the fresh air and the serenity of being away from the others. You could always do the same thing in your room, but it doesn’t have the same effect. Out here, you don’t feel like you’re being watched.

Elysia comes and gets you on her way to get your tributes for dinner. You thank her, as always, and then make your way to the dining room. Finnick’s standing next to Pleurisy and Laurel when you get out there. Once they see you, it’s big smiles and bright chatter.

“How was it?” you ask, looking to Annie and Marsh.

Annie’s got a small smile on her face, “I think that I’ve scored high. The gamemakers looked interested in what I had to offer, so that was a pretty good sign.”

“What about you?” Finnick asks.

Marsh shrugs slightly, “I was nervous and fumbled, barely recovered.”

“Fumbling is normal, the gamemakers hardly react to it.” you tell him, “Trust me, you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Even I missed when I was with the gamemakers.”

“And you scored a ten.” Marsh says.

“And I scored a ten.” you repeat.

It seems to raise his spirits enough for him to talk more during dinner. Afterwards, you all gather on the couches. Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy sit together in one bunch. You and Finnick next to each other, and Annie and Marsh take up the middle of the couch to see the screen dead on.

“Just before it starts, you guys should know that it’s normal for the careers to score between eights and tens. Rarely does anyone have the skill to get above a ten.” you say, and then Elysia turns the tv on.

Caesar Flickerman comes onto the screen with a white smile. It’s time to get started, it’ll start with District One, boys first. A picture of their faces will appear on screen, and their numbers will flash below.

You’re fully expecting a hard start with District One, since they always score high, but you’re genuinely surprised when the boy scores an eight and the girl a nine. Your mouth falls open, a laugh passing through you, “Well, there’s a twist.”

“Seriously.” Finnick says, “Looks like you two don’t have anything to worry about, after all.”

District Two isn’t as tough, the boy gets a ten, the girl a nine. Which means that Enobaria and Wade have triumphed over Cashmere and Gloss for the first time in years. Rarely do they score over District One. Yes, this year is surely something else, isn’t it?

Three isn’t as memorable, but when Marsh appears on screen, the room falls into a hush. You lean your elbows on your knees, fingers laced together, “District Four, Marsh Millilio with a score of nine.” Caesar smiles.

“Oh!” you laugh, sitting up.

All of you give Marsh a pretty good congratulations, shaking his shoulder and exchanging grins. The tension seems to dissipate from his body, and he relaxes against the couch, “If I did good, then so did Annie.”

“District Four, Annie Cresta, also with a score of nine.”

There’s loud cheering, Annie’s face turns a burning shade of red, but she’s definitely as excited as the rest of you. You can’t imagine how good the two of them are feeling right now. They’re careers, through and through.

They’ve got high scores. All that’s left is to sweep the Capitol off their feet during the interviews.

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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