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beevean · 9 months ago

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N!Alucard swearing in particular doesn't mske sense because he was raised by the two people in the whole show who actually never swore once and were really refined, not to mention he presumably lived in pretty isolated conditions so there could be no way for him to gain any rude behavior

The show tries to sell the idea that Trevor's behavior rubbed off on him but he was calling his ancestors brain dead hillbillies and overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

It literally makes no sense for him to be this way even in-universe

Yes, exactly.

It's the same logic of that S4 scene where Sypha goes on a rant because "I said shit, you did this to me!" when this woman literally snarked that she was going to make Trevor drink her piss by telling him its was beer, like, 10 minutes after meeting him. No, you made nearly everyone talk the same, you don't get to paint Trevor as the "crass one"!

Funnily enough, Alucard insulting the Belmont heritage by more or less calling them primitive savages for their techniques does fit the idea that he's a haughty spoiled prince who thinks he's so much superior than the low class. Probably not what the writers intended, though :P

overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

In S1E4, he literally asks Trevor if he's "a runt running around with the Belmont crest" before even fighting. And I get the idea that Alucard wanted to test him to see if he could help him, but the antagonism is so forced. I honestly don't know why Alucard would hate Trevor on sight: their personalities are not that opposite.

It's shit like this that pisses me off:

Alucard: This is a simple remote viewing mirror. A little of the activating language is chipped. A few of the runes need re-cutting, but workable. You have the most fascinating family junkyard, Belmont. Trevor: You are a cockwart, Alucard. Sypha: Stop it. *drags Trevor away* You are an adult. You do not have to rise to his every barb. Trevor: He's pissing me off like it's his job, Sypha. Sypha: Grow up, Trevor.

Alucard attacked Trevor first for literally zero reason, Trevor insults him back (less elegantly but whatever, I'd call him a cockwart too) and Sypha reproaches him and tells him to grow up? And then the scene transitions to Trevor explaining the origins of his name... which leads to the two flirting? Bro? The fuck? This is literally "be nice to your bully" logic??

This is the forced framing of the show. It wants to tell me Trevor is the immature, rude one, because Alucard is justified:

Sypha: But it's like he's a cold spot in the room. It's not like your sadness. Trevor: I'm not sad. Sypha: Yes, you are. But I can shout at you, or tease you, and get a reaction that lets me know you're still in there. His sadness is like an icy well. It's bottomless… and it swallows up your voice and anything you try to drop into it.

Trevor's depression is funny, Alucard's depression is tragic. Comic relief vs. real protagonist. You can't make this shit up.

And then this other shit:

Sypha: Stop testing him, Alucard. Alucard: I am concerned I have thrown my lot in with a demented infant. Sypha: I imagine he has similar concerns about you. Alucard: I am also concerned that you enjoy him too much. Sypha: And what is that supposed to mean? Alucard: He is unreliable, emotionally damaged, and apparently very distracting to you while you should be focused on the task at hand. Sypha: Oh. Am I not working hard enough? Hmm? Alucard: And he's a drunk and he's self-destructive and anybody trying to hold on to him may well simply be dragged down with him. Sypha: You're afraid. You worry that you might have made the wrong choice. So you're trying to make him prove himself again and again by constantly provoking him. You forget, Alucard. Trevor didn't get to finish out his childhood. He is not the man here who may not have grown up.

This is not testing. Sypha joked about finding a book with penis spells, and Alucard unprovoked threw a jab at Trevor. He just decided to insult him as soon as he saw an opening. (although, hilariously enough, it lowkey sounds like he's crushing on Sypha and he's jealous that she and Trevor had a decent chat the other night)

Hey, asshole. Trevor literally brought your ungrateful ass to a place that holds all of his heritage, a heritage he was shunned for, because you need help to kill Daddy - and I don't give a shit if you feel attacked in your vampire identity which makes zero sense and makes you look really callous, you want a vampire hunter for the job, you get someone who kills people like you for a living. You have seen him fighting: you have seen that he is very competent at his job, which is what you need. On the other hand, in S2 we barely if ever see him drink like in S1. You literally, literally, have zero reasons to speak that way, unless you're just looking for excuses to be a dick. And if you're that insecure about your choice... leave. Find someone else. Go fight Dracula alone, since in any case you ended up doing all the work. And Sypha, why the fuck did you go and bang Trevor when you clearly prefer Alucard over him. Look, she's defending him, but she's still calling him a manchild! What's with Ellis and his obsession with manchildren and humiliating them!

... I'm sorry, I know I strayed away from the point of him swearing, but N!Alucard is such a rude prick! I hate him! It's not Trevor's fault, he was born that way! He's not even that pretty that would justify him becoming the fandom's blorbo! I want to slap him and Sypha so much and then rescue Trevor who needs much better friends than these two 😭

#anti netflixvania #speaking of swearwords if i cared i'd do some sort of more detailed analysis #isaac (as much as i hate admitting it) uses swear words the best because they feel like real precision f-strikes #hector uses them sparingly too but they're out of place and jarring #carmilla lenore and st. germain sound super forced #death is death. he is peak

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isara0408 · 1 year ago

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Warning: Taro has the Aishi condition, also called Yamada condition in this universe. Ayano and Taro switched places along with the rivals and suitors! :D Enjoy! An emotional moment between Osana and Taro.

Taro nibbled on a strawberry Mochi that Osana's mother made for them for their sleepover. His dull eyes stared at the Mochi he was eating with a blank expression. Osana was sitting next to him, eating one as well while watching a movie. Hanako was already asleep. She was lying down next to Taro, having her head resting on a pillow. Her hair was loosened, and she was wearing her pink pajamas that had a pattern of baby bunnies with carrots. Something her mother gave her for Christmas.

"What university do you plan to go after you graduate high school?"Osana spoke, breaking the silence between them.

"Akademi. I got accepted. I got an email about it a few days ago."Taro replied and returned to eating the Mochi. Osana swallowed the last piece and smiled softly at her childhood friend with excitement,"Akademi? Is it the one that Kusha Corporation built?"

Taro nodded.

"I heard that ,that school is funded very well and a lot of students go there to save some money. I saw pictures of it on my phone, and it's quite gorgeous."Osana reached out and grabbed another Mochi,"I'm glad you got accepted, Taro. You're a smart guy. I know that you'll do great there. Soon, I'll join you there. How does that sound?"

"Cool."Taro mumbled quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor with a blank expression.

Osana's eyes stared at her childhood friend. Her smile slowly faded from her lips. With a sad expression, she glanced down at her lap,"Maybe when you enter Akademi, you can make new friends-"

"I don't think so. People don't understand me. As always, they will just distant themselves from me because of my condition. It's nothing new."Taro protested, shaking his head and finishing his Mochi. Osana frowned sadly from the negative response,"But you'll never know. Maybe someone will genuinely want to be your friend."

"Hm..."

Osana sighed deeply with irritation and grinned her teeth,"Look, Taro, you will eventually have to make friends. Friends who will be there for you like I am. Hanako will have to make friends as well."

"How?"Taro glanced over at Osana with the same blank expression on his face,"People always distant themselves once they realize I'm not like them. I don't express my emotions like them. Once they notice how dull I am, they leave. It happened every single time. I'm not lucky like you, Osana. I can't make friends the way you do. Maybe I was meant to be alone with this condition. It's something I can't escape, no matter what I do." Osana listened to Taro's words as her irritation disappeared, but was replaced with sadness once again,"Oh Taro..."Osana muttered, placing her hand on top of his,"Sometimes I wish I could take that condition away from you. For you to live a normal life without that empty and hollow feeling you have. I just feel so useless whenever I can't help you with what you're feeling, with what you're going through, and can't express well. I don't want you to be alone..."Osana spoke as her eyes crowded up with tears.

Taro noticed Osana's eyes crowding up with tears.

"I don't know how it feels to have your condition. I don't understand how it feels to have that empty and hollow feelings you have in your chest that you can't get rid of. Your father told me a lot about it while we grew up together. Many of those things scared me..."Osana explained, remembering the times of Taro's father explaining to her the possibilities of endings for Taro and what happened with their ancestors,"Along with Hanako. She can end up the same way."Osana mumbled as tears escaped her eyes while her gaze lowered. Taro watched his childhood friend quietly sob, not wanting to wake up Hanako from her slumber. He glanced down at Hanako, who was sound asleep. His hand reached out and gently stroked her head.

"Your father told me that... a few of your ancestors killed themselves because of this condition. They had everything in life, but that hollow feeling never left them... and a way for them to escape it was to take their own lives. One of them shot themselves in the head, another hang themself, another jumped off a building, another took poison, another told their own child to take kill them off..."Osana revealed to Taro as her quiet sobbing continued. Tears continued to escape her eyes as some rolled down to her chin and fell onto her pajamas shorts,"I don't want that to happen to you..."

"Osana,"

Osana slowly glanced up and looked at Taro with her eyes still crowding up with tears. Taro stared at her with a blank expression; however, his eyes were crowded with tears as a single tear escaped his eye,"I know what my ancestors did. I know there's a chance of me taking my own life one day if I can't bear this hollow feeling anymore. I know Hanako will do the same if she can't handle it anymore. I know."

Taro held onto Osana's hand,"But it's something I can't prevent. It's something I will do if I want to and need to."

Osana shook her head as she sobbed, clinging onto the hand of her childhood friend,"Please... if you do ever think of doing it, please, don't. I still need you here with me. Hanako will need you. Your mother will need you here with her. I'm here if you need me. I'm here. I promised you that I'll never leave your side. I'll be your friend until the end. I want to keep that promise until the day I die. I want you here with me. I want us to grow up and see it."Osana reached out and wrapped her arms around Taro tightly, burying her face onto his shoulder,"Please... don't leave me yet."

Taro wrapped his arms around her, listening to her quiet sobs against his ear. He closed his eyes and buried his face onto her shoulder, tightening the hug,"I don't like seeing you cry."Taro whispered quietly,"Stop it."

Osana sniffled,"I can't help it, you idiot..."She gripped onto his pajama shirt as her sobs slowly calmed down. Taro awkwardly patted Osana's head, "Don't call me an idiot, dummy."

A small chuckle escaped her mouth. She pulled away from the embrace and wiped her tears away,"I can if I want to."She talked back with a smile on her lips. The smile faded away seconds after,"But I'm serious, don't leave me yet, okay? I still need you here with me. I still need my cat buddy."Osana reached out and grabbed her phone. She showed Taro that cat charm attached to her phone,"Cat buddies forever, right?"

Taro blankly stared at the cat charm. He reached out and grabbed his phone,"Forever."He showed Osana the black cat charm attached to his phone that was given by her.

Osana smiled brightly at the sight of Taro's black cat charm as her eyes shined as bright as a star.

#yandere #yandere simulator #yanderesim #taro yamada #osana najimi #yanderetaro #swap au #headcanon #osana x taro #osana x taro kinda? i guess lol #yandere Taro

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roxyfoxgamer150 · 3 years ago

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Anything but a- BACKPACK AND A JAGUAR.

Modern AU and Observer Mirabel AU (and Scrap and Hollow)

Observer and Scrap were looking at the portals while Hollow was eating, the same with Observer.

Scrap snickered, "Hey look, the man that insulted your family broke his arm, isn't that funny?" Observer nodded, arms crossed, "It is funny, although please don't ever refer the other observers as my family." She glares at Scrap, who rolled her eyes in amusement.

Suddenly, a portal opens up and an arm goes through, then a body.

Modern!Mirabel looked at them in horror, "Guys! It's Anything But a Backpack Day in my universe! I need something that stands out!" She quickly says, making Observer and Scrap be concerned on how fast she said the sentence.

Hollow Julieta snorted in amusememt while eating a pizza slice, "Use a boat then, I used to go to AUs where it was Anything But Backpack Day, a boat will shock them enough if it's two meters long." She swallowed the pizza, then grabbed another one from a nearby table.

Modern!Mirabel shook her head, "No, that's going to make a huge dent on the boat, I don't even have one." She sighed.

Scrappy Mirabel looked at her in confusion, "Why not just grab Observer's microwave?-" "Hey!" "She never uses it." Observer Mirabel smacks Scrap's head in the back, making her grunt.

"I use my microwave to make my macaroni and cheese better idiot!" She shoves her food to Scrap's vision, it was macaroni and cheese.

"Holy shit- you actually use it? It's covered in dust!" "THAT'S MY OLD ONE ¡IDIOTA!" She smacks her again in the head. Modern!Mirabel visibly wilts.

"If I can't use something, then they won't let me in the school!" Modern!Mirabel says, Observer rolls her eyes.

She eats her macaroni and cheese, and then swallows it, "If you want to stand out, use something that isn't commonly used in school events like that. A basket is commonly used, a microwave is commonly used too, luggages, sacks, a few boats in one school, and a net." She stabs a macaroni with her fork.

"It's better to use something else, like a sled or an animal that will make everyone actually record you." She proceeded to bite the macaroni, and eat one again.

Hollow Julieta looked at her in confusion, muttering something like "Ay Dios mío I influenced her.", while Modern and Scrap were looking at her in shock. They then looked at each other and grinned mischieviously.

Observer Mirabel immediately knew what they were planning.

"OH DON'T YOU DARE-"

—————

All of the students were creating a contest on who has the best "non-backpack" in the whole school.

A boy patted his basket where his books and materials are in, grinning, "I have the best one here!"

A girl laughs at him, "That? I have a whole shopping cart!" She laughs at the boy who pouted.

Another student barged in the conversation, "Lol you call that the best? Bitch I have a fridge!" The student shows off their fridge that looked expensive, seems like they were a rich one.

Everyone around them placed their own votes by saying who they choose, most of them saying that the third student won the Anything But Backpacks Day conte-

"HOLY SHIT!"

The students in one hallway suddenly started to record in silence, not even making a sound.

The other students and teachers walked towards them, wanting to see what's making record in shock.

One of the teachers choked in shock when they saw what the students were recording.

It was Mirabel.

With an animal beside her, carrying her school materials.

It wasn't a huge intimidating dog, it wasn't a goat nor a horse.

No.

It was a jaguar.

The jaguar looked much more intimidating and large, like it was the ancestor of them.

It had larger teeth and a bigger size.

"Make way people! My bag needs space to walk!" Modern!Mirabel said while grinning, Observer Mirabel was carrying Mirabel's school materials on her back.

Observer looked at Modern!Mirabel, an eyebrow raised, Modern!Mirabel just smiles nervously.

"Okay, maybe I did over do it."

#mirabel madrigal #encanto au #observer mirabel au #mirabel au #random thought i had lmao #scrappy mirabel au #hollow julieta au #My motivation is deleting itself lmao #Is this a drabble? I think it's a drabble idk-#this is cringy #why did i make this

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katyasrussianaccent · 4 years ago

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you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15.

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker.

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single.

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.”

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do.

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”.

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks.

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers.

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.”

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in.

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it.

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time.

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar.

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for.

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else.

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.”

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen; Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that.

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you.

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body. You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?”

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement.

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you.

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task.

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were.

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list.

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?”

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit.

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!”

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands.

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02

#my fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband/reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x yn #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x reader #corpse fic #corpse smau #corpse imagine

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smaidjor · 4 years ago

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and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 1)

Hey guys! Welcome to another angsty fic by yours truly, provider of flower husbands pain.

Some things you should know before you jump into this:

1. This is a companion fic to my fic "i know they're losing". You can understand it without having read the other one, since it's the same story from two different POVs but I think the overall experience is better with both!

2. The overall title of each fic is from the mitski song I bet on losing dogs. Chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films.

3. There is a lot of lord of the rings lore in both fics, and I mean a lot. You may be kinda confused if you've never read tolkien's works. It will all be explained eventually, though!

4. With the fact that it's a companion fic and a lot of people came here from Jimmy's POV in mind- this is a lot heavier of a fic. The content warnings are heavier and the angst is more intense. You have been warned.

(Obligatory disclaimer that this is about characters, not ccs, and do not ship real people, as always!)

Chapter Title: to these memories i will hold

Chapter Wordcount: 4000

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, panic attacks, past death, very frank discussion of death. (In general, if suicide or death are triggering topics for you, this is probably not the fic for you. Stay safe and take care of yourself!)

AO3

Actual fic under the cut:

Scott didn’t expect to survive 3rd life. No one did, he thinks, but especially not him. Clever, clever Scott, who knew his fate too well for his own good. He could have chosen his allies carefully, he knows, could have played on their emotions to make them think he was loyal until the moment he turned on them to win. He knew who the strongest factions and warriors were, the most cunning and intelligent participants in this death game they were forced into. Instead, he chose Jimmy. Sweet, dopey Jimmy, who had the personality of a golden retriever and only a handful of braincells at any given time. Jimmy, who was worth more than all the stars in the sky to him. Who made him feel alive . No, Scott didn’t expect to win. Not when it was Jimmy by his side- when it was Jimmy by his side, winning didn’t matter. All that mattered was Jimmy’s blush when Scott pressed a kiss to his cheek, the way his hair looked like gold in the sunlight and his smile lit up Scott’s whole world.

After Jimmy died, Scott stopped wanting to survive 3rd life. What was the point? The stars can shine on without the sun, but all life on Earth would wither and die. The same happened to Scott’s broken, bitter heart, he found. Jimmy was the first person in years to love him truly, wholly, with no strings attached; it was terrifying how quickly Scott fell for the first person to look at him and not expect him to be anything but what he was. Scott’s world, which used to be mountain peaks and endless blue sky, narrowed to warm brown eyes and a grin like sunshine quicker than he could comprehend. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, it all came back to him. What was Scott without Jimmy? The unwanted twin, the unloved child, the un-elven elf. Because who cared if he was a good shot with a bow or good at organizing teams or building pretty little houses? He would always be second-born, second-best.

It was fitting, really, that when Scott died, he died alone. Some might find it ironic that the man who knew enough people to fill the roster of a championship held by a god every month died without a single person to witness it save his enemies, but in the end, it was always going to be like this, Scott knew. He hadn’t been there to see Jimmy die, he hadn’t been able to hold him in his final moments and soothe the agony of death. Maybe this was his punishment. He wouldn’t be surprised; the gods of this world did not smile on him and never would. Why should they, when he had failed the only person who had ever found him good enough?

When he woke up in Rivendell, he was almost disappointed. Almost. He considered ditching the rest of the elves, up and leaving to somewhere that didn’t make it feel like the noose of immortality was slowly tightening around his neck. If nothing else, Noxite would let him crash at the MCC server for a bit until he found somewhere to go. And yet, in the end, Scott’s stubborn sense of duty won out. The elves needed a ruler. Xornoth had disappeared to god knows where, and though they had been braver, wiser, better in every way, Scott was the one who had stayed. Who was willing to take up the crown that weighed so heavily on its bearers. So Scott, who no one ever expected to rule, took up the burden of leadership.

Now, he tries and fails to get out of bed and wonders what the point of that even was. He’s fading, and worse than that, he’s fading over a human. His ancestors are probably rolling in their graves. Rivendell will be leaderless within a decade, and this time there are no heirs to take control. Not even a ‘spare’ like Scott used to be. What a mess.

There are footsteps on the stairs. They’re unfamiliar, meaning they could be a threat, but he’s too tired to bother sitting up. If he dies, well- it’s inevitable, really, in the same way watching the mortals he loves dies is.

The person comes around the corner, and Scott realizes with no joy that he won’t be dying today after all. Katherine looks both curious and concerned, but her voice tilts towards the latter when she asks “Scott?” and then, more hesitantly “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her, exhausted. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?” She sounds so thrown off by his state that Scott almost feels bad.

Whatever it is, it must be important if she’s come all the way here, though, so he gestures her to a chair. “No, no, stay. I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Nothing about the question is funny in any way, but Scott laughs regardless. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.” He offers it out, knowing the unnatural cold is unsettling no matter if you’re elven or not. Katherine does as he asks, the concern on her face only growing as she grips his icy hand.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott explains. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, a frank reminder of the slow and painful death that awaits him.

Katherine gasps, and Scott knows he’s alarmed her.

He goes on, though. “It usually happens to old elves, world-weary.” Ironic, it’s ironic that he’s saying that as a young elf explaining his own death. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

Her face is nothing short of horrified. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

He has to laugh. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.” Though he feels so much older than that, both in elven terms and in human.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment of silence, then, “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.” He’s so, so exhausted. So sick of having to claw and scrape and struggle for the barest scraps of happiness.

“Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?” Katherine sounds so hopeful that the question seems almost naive even though she’s far more capable of a ruler than he is. Naive in the affairs of elves, maybe, much as she’s intelligent in so many other ways.

Scott tries not to flinch at the innocent inquiry, thinking about the deaths from fading that he’s watched. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.” And again, and again, until there’s nothing to be done but let them die , he finishes in his head.

Katherine nods, a look of determination overtaking the hope. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No. You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.” She sounds so firm that he doesn’t dare disobey, though his exhaustion makes a fair effort at convincing him to. Will this really fix anything? Unlikely. But it’s worth it to try, if only to humor Katherine. At least this way she’ll have the comfort of having tried to save him when he inevitably fades away into nothing

Scott takes her hand, though it brings him little warmth, cold from her trek here. “Alright.” He swallows the bitter grief in his throat before it can seep into his words. “We can try.”

He leads Katherine around Rivendell, taking some pride in the way she oohs over the decor. If there’s one thing he can do right, it’s building. While some elven rulers might see it as below themselves to help build houses for their citizens, Scott finds building soothing. It’s one of the few skills he picked up during his time away that people really appreciate; no one wants to live in a shitty house.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

If Scott said that the name Xornoth didn’t make him flinch, he would be lying to himself. It’s not your sibling , he tells himself. It’s just a coincidence .

It’s through the virtue of years of lying that his voice comes out steady. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya-” his heart doesn’t ache when he says Jimmy’s name, it doesn’t- “well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?” Katherine asks.

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer. He won’t- can’t talk about Jimmy, not without remembering how he looked with an arrow through his throat, bright smile gone and face frozen in fear. How does he explain how much Jimmy meant to him? How much he’s now giving up, knowing he’ll have to lose it one way or another?

Katherine drops the topic, seemingly sensing that she’s stumbled on something sensitive. When she has to go home, she leaves with a friendly goodbye and a promise to visit, and Scott believes neither. Who would put the effort into visiting him? He’s not a good friend, he’s not a good king, and god knows he’s not a good husband. In fact, he’s actively avoiding his husband. He may have kept the pufferfish Jimmy gave him, but that doesn’t mean anything. He can’t fall in love with Jimmy again. Loving Jimmy will kill him. (Scott ignores the small voice at the back of his head that whispers that he’s still in love with Jimmy and it’s already killing him just as he always knew it would.)

To his surprise, Katherine does come back next week, and the week after that. He’s ashamed to admit it, but there’s some part of him that’s pathetically grateful when she shows up at his doorstep. It’s a chance to not be alone . Much as he dreads the day when she finally gives up on him, it’s nice that someone cares enough to try and save him from himself.

The third week, Katherine doesn’t show up. Instead, the footsteps on the stairs are familiar in a way that makes Scott’s heart twist painfully.

He takes a deep breath. “Hello, Jimmy.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Jimmy asks. Scott can tell he’s startled by the way his voice goes up, almost frightened.

Scott steels himself, taking a deep breath before rolling over to face his ex-husband. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He forces himself to not get distracted staring at Jimmy, instead going on before Jimmy can open his mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?” Jimmy’s so curious. So naive, as always.

Scott laughs, bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?”

Scott hears the concern in Jimmy’s words, and he can’t bring himself to break the news. It’s not as if it matters. It’s not as if Jimmy would care; he came here because of Katherine. Maybe he cared at the start of Empires, but Scott’s been nothing but rude to him since. There’s no reason for him to care. (He cares. Scott’s lying, like always. Jimmy cares and Scott knows it.)

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks again, more insistently.

He refuses to say it. He needs Jimmy out, out of his room and out of his life before he does something he’ll regret. “You should go.” To prove his point, he tries to stand, finding himself too dizzy to quite pull it off. Jimmy rushes to catch him, and Scott hates himself just a little for how that still gives him a warm feeling.

“Scott, what is going on?”

He brushes Jimmy off, letting go of his arm and hurrying for the stairs. He can’t let Jimmy work his way into his heart again; Scott won’t be strong enough to let him go this time.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?” Jimmy sounds almost angry, but Scott can hear the distress under it and that’s what breaks him.

“I’m fading, alright?” His voice nearly breaks at the concern on Jimmy’s face when he whirls to face him. “I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy sputters, seemingly caught off guard. “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords-” Scott thinks back to third life- “from arrows through the throat, from grief.” The words come out more raw than he intends, leaving him scrambling to recover his composure. He takes a deep breath in and out, forcing his voice to steady again. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

“You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!” Jimmy calls after him, although Scott can hear his footsteps following as well.

“You did ask, to be fair.” Scott replies. His voice is calm. He’s fine.

“I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Scott starts towards the bridges, intending to show Jimmy the enchanting tower and then the door. He doesn’t care about how fast he’s walking, Jimmy can keep up. He’s taller than Scott and probably has better balance at the moment too. Scott’s struggling not to fall, honestly, but his pride won’t let him go slower.

Jimmy breaks the awkward silence with the question Scott least wants to hear. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?”

“No,” Scott says firmly.

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .” He can’t talk about it.

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

The words strike right at the raw wound of Jimmy’s death, and Scott freezes. Inhales. Exhales. Tries to keep calm.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Scott!” Jimmy cries. He sounds so upset, Scott’s heart aches. “I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott takes a deep breath. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died?” He can’t think straight through the rage clouding his head, the desperate need to prove that Jimmy’s wrong , that Scott loved him so much it’s killing him. “You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy? ” His voice damn near breaks on his husband’s name, and Scott thanks the gods he stopped believing in a long time ago that it doesn’t.

“No,” Jimmy says. His voice is soft, gentle, almost as if Scott is a wounded animal that needs a delicate touch. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

The words punch the air from Scott’s lungs, raw and soft and real. Scott is an excellent liar. Jimmy isn’t. Scott knows that Jimmy is telling the truth. What he doesn’t know is how to handle that level of devotion. He wonders again how Jimmy- sweet, genuine Jimmy who wears his heart on his sleeve and is hopelessly devoted to an elf who can’t be fully his- chose Scott of all people. Scott, who’s as bitter as Jimmy is sweet, who’s sarcastic and snarky and hasn’t been good enough for just about anything in his life. He certainly wasn’t good enough to save Jimmy, Scott thinks bitterly.

He shakes off the thought. “I buried you on the hill above our houses. I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

“Did he?”

Scott almost laughs at the innocent question. “How would I know? Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now?” Jimmy’s tone is uncertain, hesitant and it hurts . “I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott looks away from his earnest gaze, but he can’t stop the truth slipping out. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” Jimmy asks, seemingly bewildered. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott doesn’t want to think about this, wants to say it even less. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says wryly, unable to resist a bit of morbid humor at his own expense.

“Scott! That’s not funny!”

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Jimmy sounds genuinely distressed, and Scott drops the wry smile. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.” It’s a simple statement. The truth, as much as he can give.

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy’s outrage is justifiable, but Scott just shrugs.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it?” It really does. “But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

A hand lands on Scott’s arm, and he turns, startled. Jimmy doesn’t give him time to react, throwing his arms around Scott and pulling him close. Scott almost lets out a very undignified squeak at the sudden contact, though he slowly relaxes into Jimmy’s hold.

He should pull away. He shouldn’t give Jimmy false hope like this. But Jimmy is so warm , and Scott is so unbearably cold. Every fiber of his being is screaming that this is what’s right; screw Rivendell and obligations and too-heavy crowns, Jimmy is home to him. He’s warm for the first time in months, and the most heartbreaking part is that it can’t last. He can’t do this again.

He pulls away, ignoring the painful hope on Jimmy’s face. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” For the first time all conversation, his voice well and truly wobbles. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

Scott shakes his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.” The words are like glass in his throat, but he forces them out anyways. They have to be said.

Jimmy’s silent, and it hurts more than if Jimmy had yelled at him.

“Goodbye, Jimmy,” Scott manages, turning away before Jimmy can see the way his face twists in pain. He makes his retreat as quickly as possible, stumbling and nearly taking a tumble just before he reaches the door. Unlike before, there’s no helpful ex-husband there to catch him, to make sure he’s alright and ask a million questions until Scott’s forced to admit that he’s not okay and hasn’t been in a long time.

He fumbles with the latch, hands shaking and vision blurring. Finally, it clicks, and Scott stumbles inside and slams the door shut before sliding to the ground. He won’t cry. He won’t . He doesn’t love Jimmy, he can’t love Jimmy anymore. Jimmy was never meant to be his. They might have carved out a few precious moments, stolen them from the universe and giggled like kids with their hands in the cookie jar as they kissed amongst the flowers, but those brief moments were all they were ever going to be allowed. It was always going to end this way, Scott tells himself. There’s no use crying over a mortal who will be dead in the blink of an eye to an elf. What would his parents say? That this was typical of him, probably. Typical Scott, always wanting what he would never be able to have. Typical, predictable Scott, loving a mortal who shouldn’t be worth anything to him.

He’s crying. There are tears spotting his cyan robes, splashing onto the wood floors he worked so hard on. Scott rubs at his eyes furiously, but that only makes it worse, sobs shuddering through him and leaving him hollow and aching. He’s so cold . The ache in his chest has returned tenfold, stealing away his breath, and he curls further into himself, struggling for air.

He’s going to die. He is going to die , alone on the floor of his house because he fell for someone he couldn’t have. For all that he’s spent every minute since Jimmy’s death in 3rd life wishing for some way out of this cruel world, he’s terrified now that it seems inevitable. He’s scared in a way he hasn’t been in forever, breath coming quick and shallow. He's scared, and he is so, so tired of this ache that haunts him, the chill that he can never get rid of.

“Jimmy,” Scott whispers. There’s no way for the human to hear him, but the name brings him some comfort. “ Jimmy .” He wants his husband. He wants someone to hug him. He doesn’t want to fade away freezing and alone, no one there to hold his hand or reassure him that the pain will be over soon. Internally, he begs for someone, anyone who cares to come looking. To find him, even if they’re too late to save him. Someone. Anyone. Please.

No one comes, and Scott lays on his floor until his breathing steadies out again. His head spins when he forces himself to his feet, and he has to lean against the wall for a few moments. There’s no time for dramatics, he tells himself sternly. He has a kingdom to rule. He cannot afford to break over a mortal he never should have fallen for in the first place. He doesn’t love Jimmy anymore, he can’t .

(He’s lying. But Scott has always been an excellent liar, even when it’s to himself.)

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #i maintag my fic because i dont fear god or scott smajor #my writing

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bruh-haikyuu · 5 years ago

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Hey! Can I request the Seijoh teams reactions to finding out that Kyotani has a gf whose the total opposite of him? She's from another school but these hoes manage to spot them getting close behind a corner when she comes to support Kyotani at an official game or sm. Btw, I really enjoy your writing! 💖

A/N: you see,,, I deadass have this complex for delinquent-looking characters who are actually soft. Even though the chances of coming across one of those is rare, THOSE KINDS OF PEOPLE ARE MY TYPE. SO THIS REQUEST REALLY WENT AND S P O K E TO ME. THANK YOU ANON FOR QUENCHING MY THIRST

cingulomania. | kyōtani kentarō

word count: 2057

warnings: some swearing!

(n.) a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

At first, Kyoutani had been your neighbor. True to everyone’s surprise, he was much shyer in person regardless of how much boys and girls in your neighborhood told you that he was a monster. You thought that he was alright.

It was when both of your parents introduced you to each other that you started to slowly build the foundation of your friendship. He’d timidly nag you to help him play volleyball and dirty your clothes when you accompanied him to check on the stray dogs by the river. You’d drag him up to your room to play pretend restaurant and ask him to pick out one of your frilly dresses to wear to a birthday party. Your differences didn’t matter to any of you. You thought that he was kind.

He was ‘Ken-chan’ to you for a rather long while until he’d snap at you to stop calling him by that nickname. You were hurt, of course. As any other 10-year old would. But you had complied to his demands, even with tears and snot streaming down your face. He had never yelled at you, not even once. So he had hugged you that day, engulfing you with his regret and affection. And that was when it started for you. You thought that he was kind of cute.

Your feelings for your childhood friend didn’t remedy as time passed; much to your chagrin, you felt that it simply multiplied. Especially as the both of you matured into your second year of junior high, when Kyoutani decided that he wanted to have his volleyball skills “known and feared throughout the prefecture”. But was there really a need for it though? You thought that he was already amazing.

In your last year of junior high, you felt a rift beginning to form between the two of you. It had become increasingly difficult to even spend time together, especially with your high school entrance exams looming over the corner. The lunch box you usually reserved for him had gone cold from being untouched for months. You had made many friends in hopes to fill the growing hole in your heart while he had made multiple… adversaries. You didn’t like making hunches, but it had seemed like Kyoutani was deliberately avoiding you. He’d run off quickly whenever he saw you and barely replied to your texts anymore. It was like he never wanted you in his life to start with. You had cried in heartbreak from the thought. You thought that he was selfish.

After what seemed like ages without contact, Kyoutani had finally called out to you, saying he wanted to talk. You were angry, seething even; you considered turning him down. This was the same boy who avoided you like a plague for months. But he was the same boy you grew up with and by the graces of your ancestors, fell in love with. You hadn’t even thought of an outcome when you accepted his invitation. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. You thought that he was spontaneous.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Sorry for avoiding you,” he had said, sheepishly scratching the back of his hair. “I guess you felt a bit lonely.”

“Thanks for noticing,” your response had been ice cold that day and your frown didn’t falter.

You had agreed to talk to him by the river you used to play at. Silence dwindling between the both of you, you had watched his contorted expression reflect off the river’s waters.

“But you had been making so much friends lately, it was kind of hard for me to talk to you.”

Your frown had only deepened into a frustrated pout, “You’re one to talk! You and your volleyball. Volleyball early in the morning, volleyball late into the night. It’s always been volleyball when we were kids too, Kentarou! I didn’t want to stop you from doing what you love, but it doesn’t have to be like this either, you moron…”

Kyoutani’s lips had fallen into a flat line and his eyes wavered from yours. You had brought your knees closer to your chest and spoke again.

“I got into Wakabayashi Girls’ High School.”

“Ah, congratulations… I heard the criterias for Waka-joshi are the toughest—”

“You don’t get it!” There it was. Your string had finally snapped.

“…”

“I know we can’t be together forever. I know that! Our paths to different high schools are proof of it. But somehow I want us to,” you had muttered, slowly unlocking every defenseless part of your heart accompanied with the hot, searing tears that nearly swallowed your face whole. “I want us to be together for a really long time, Kentarou. But… but not as… not as…”

“Not as friends.”

When you had looked up to see him, he wasn’t like he was Kentarou anymore. It was like he was Ken-chan all over again. Your Ken-chan. You’d missed him so much it hurt, but you were glad he was here.

“We’re so different. You’re sociable and cute and you cry at the smallest things. And I’m just… the fucking worst.”

You hand had reached out to take his, fingers lacing with each other. “Ken-chan…”

“But I can’t help it. I hated myself for the longest time for it but I wondered if I really did have a chance with you. I wondered if you’d let me ruin this friendship of ours. Or maybe you’d hate me forever for it. But hearing you say that to me now, I don’t give a shit anymore.”

Kneeling in front of you, he had taken both of your hands, eyes fixated on the small rhinestones you had pasted on your nails. Against the rough palms of his beastly hands, yours had seemed so tiny, but he couldn’t help but to notice how well it fit with the contours of hand.

“I like you, Y/N. Please go out with me.”

Just like that, Kyoutani Kentarou had offered you his entire heart. And you took it unconditionally.

Arms thrown around his shoulder, you had sobbed hysterically into his shoulder, splotches of tears staining his shirt. “K-Kentarou!”

“H-Hey, I’ll fall over! Idiot, don’t just do things like this so suddenly!” he had scolded but ultimately rested his arms around your torso as he fell into the calming lullaby of your heart. You had smiled.

You thought that he was rather silly.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You felt like you were going to lose yourself in the crowd sooner or later.

When Kyoutani told you it was going to be “a little packed” in the Sendai City Gymnasium, you didn’t think you’d be squeezed in like a can of anchovies. You were going have to ask him to be more specific about numbers next time.

“Hey, Y/N-chan, you think Oikawa-kun will make eye contact with me from the stands?” your friend Natsumi murmured, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Nacchan, you’re lacking ambition!” your other friend Yayoi chuckled, affectionately ruffling Natsumi’s well-kept hair. “We’ve got our secret weapon Y/N on our hands. If anything, we’ll ask her boyfriend to introduce us.”

“Yayoicchi, I don’t think Kentarou would want to do something like that,” you finally chirped, having given up on trying to interpret the lousily marked venue map.

“So selfish, Y/N-chan! You guys are so different, I don’t get why you don’t just go for the cute guys,” Natsumi groaned.

“But it’s quite romantic, isn’t it? The tale of Seijoh’s beastly Mad Dog and Waka-joshi’s sparkly princess…” Yayoi swooned, her glasses nearly slipping down her face.

Just as you were about to chastise your friends for being annoying, your cell phone piped up, alerting you of a text from your “beastly” boyfriend.

From: Kyoutani Kentarou

Subject: Where are you?

10:34 AM

I’m waiting by the entrance. Hurry up. I only have a few minutes before the others find out I’m missing.

You replied with a quick “I’ll be right there!! \(-ㅂ-)/ ♥ ♥ ♥” and hurried your way through the bustling crowd.

“Y/N-chaaan! Where are you going?” Natsumi hollered.

“I’ll be back! You two find our seats, okay?”

“Hey, Y/N! Buy us some croquettes while you’re at it!” Yayoi echoed, her voice drifting away with the background.

When the cool breeze of the spring air kissed your face, you felt your shoulders lighten—it was beyond your imagination, but you survived the rampaging influx of people in the gym.

It didn’t take long for you to identify a lanky, scary-looking boy tucked away into a secluded corner of the gym’s field. Approaching him carefully, you felt him flinch violently under your grasp when you wrapped your arms around his torso as a surprise.

“Kenta~rou!”

“Y/N! Don’t do shit like that!” Kyoutani scolded, turning around in your embrace to pull at your cheeks in annoyance. “I could’ve punched you by accident or something.”

“Kentarou, stop pulling at my cheeks,” you grumbled, hands flying to his wrists to unsuccessfully pry him off your springy face. “If you’re going to punch me, then punch me out of love~”

“No way. You’re weird.”

“Don’t be cruel. I came here to watch you play,” you pouted, crossing your arms in mock frustration. “It was super hard to ask for permission from the teachers and my parents to come here right after school ended, you know!”

Kyoutani nodded solemnly, giving your head a few gentle pats before finding interest in your shoes. “I see. Sorry for all the trouble and thanks for coming, I guess.”

You gave him a pleasant smile, enough to make him hear angels singing in the horizon. “It’s okay, Ken-chan. Do your best today, alright?”

“Y-yeah.”

Leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, you were stopped in motion when a shrill cry broke the atmosphere between the two of you.

“Yoohoo, Mad Dog-chan! We’re done registering, so let’s—Oh?”

Kyoutani tensed up against your skin. Ah, it was him. The elusive captain of the Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club. Heartthrob Oikawa Tooru, accompanied by every other senior Kyoutani had been so dead-set on avoiding just for this moment.

“Ain’t that the Wakabayashi Girls’ High uniform?” Matsukawa said, eyeing your uniform intently.

“Ah, that’s right!” you exclaimed. You had completely forgotten to change out of your uniform when you hurriedly chased the bus to the gymnasium.

Placing his hand beneath his chin in a display of wonder, Oikawa flashed you a grin that was sure to make Natsumi and Yayoi green with envy. “So, what’s a pretty Waka-joshi princess like you doing out here with our Mad Dog? Are you his relative? Or maybe his friend? Or perhaps—”

“Don’t.” Kyoutani stressed, teeth bared in defense. “Let’s just go already.”

Sighing in defeat, Oikawa complied, only once turning back around to simply wink at you and say, “I hope you’ll be cheering for me, Himesama-chan~”

You shivered in disgust. Now you were certain why Kyoutani wanted to evade him at all costs.

Once you were sure Kyoutani’s seniors were gone way past the corner, you called out for your boyfriend again.

“One more thing, Kentarou.”

“What is it now?”

Giving him a light peck on his chapped lips, you grinned when he stared at you with eyes as wide as saucers. “Good luck.”

At that exact moment, you thought that he looked a bit like an excited Corgi.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“She kissed him!”

“Be quiet, Oikawa, he’ll hear us,” Iwaizumi hissed, craning his neck a little further in hopes to get a clearer view of your romantic escapade.

“I’ll bet you this week’s ramen that he scared her into dating him or something,” Hanamaki said, eyebrows furrowing deeply. “There’s no logical way. She’s just so fluffy and cute and he… Nah, man! It just doesn’t add up like that.”

“Lucky, he’s just lucky. Maybe he drew some kind of crazy fortune on New Years’.”

“I want crazy fortune like that too, we’re going to need it to win against Shiratorizawa this year.”

“Makki, you’re asking for too much. Luck comes from hard work too, you know.”

“Hey, if you think about it… We’re third years who spend our days playing and thinking about volleyball; it’s like we’re married to it or something,” Matsukawa pondered aloud. “Even Kyoutani has a cute girlfriend to balance it all out. At some point, aren’t we kind of…”

The third years sighed, shoulders slumping, realization dawning across their features.

“Lame.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #kyoutani kentarou #kyoutani kentarou x reader #kyoutani kentarou imagine #kyoutani kentarou scenario #aoba johsai x reader #sfw #bruh haikyuu writing #kyoutani x reader #kentarou x reader

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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fire on ice | a crackish Jonerys drabble

Soooo... @moggett reblogged this post and well I felt compelled to write a drabble for one of those prompts so I give you this crack fic-- a funeral home meet cute!

I give you....FIRE ON ICE! And this is also partially @youwerenevermine‘s fault, lol, because we literally had same idea for one of the prompts.

“Thank you so much Mr. Snow.”

Jon nodded politely, solemnly, his gray eyes the perfect amount of sympathetic, sad, and he hoped the right amount of ‘normal’— lest people think him a total fucking creep—while he shook the hand of the Greatjon Umber, whose son Smalljon Umber had unfortunately encountered the wrong side of a chainsaw while out trimming trees.

Greatjon began to go into a tale about his son—who by all accounts had been a horrible person—speaking like he was the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror for all his ‘talents’ and ‘successes.’ “Hmm,” he murmured, walking him slowly to the door. “He sounds like quite a man your son, thank you Mr. Umber, we will speak later regarding tomorrow.”

“Of course, thank you again Mr. Snow.”

The door shut loudly behind him, Jon slumping against it, relieved. He glanced at his cousin, who had emerged from the basement, shaking her chopped bob out of its messy little knot atop her head. “He gone?” she demanded.

“Aye.”

“I had half a mind to sew his arm on backwards.”

Jon closed the doors to the viewing room where Smalljon rested in repose until tomorrow when he’d be taken to the Karstark’s castle for the final funeral and ultimate burial in the crypts, as was custom for the Northerners. He clicked his tongue. “Arya, be nice.”

“Remember when his wife died, and he squeezed my arse?”

“Aye, I remember.”

“Thought so.” Arya checked her phone. “Your beloved texted me. We have another on the way. This one fell from the Wall. Ygritte said he’s a fucking mess.”

He made a face; he hated that she referred to his ex-girlfriend as his ‘beloved.’ “Will you stop calling her that?”

“She works for the morgue Jon, what were you thinking?”

“It’s hard to find women in this line of work.” He heard the bell ringing on the other side of the old stone house that served as their place of business and home—the five-floor monstrosity he knew people in town referred to as ‘Castle Black.’ He did wear a lot of black. Came with the territory. He waved off Arya. “Just make sure you finish up with Mr. Lannister before the end of the evening.”

“The rich dude who died on the shitter? Yeah, no thanks, that’s all yours.”

“Do you want to take this one? Where the fuck is Robb anyway?” Robb was the master of this shit, not him. He was better with the dead.

Arya walked away before he even could try to play ‘Dragon, Wolf, Lion’ with her or answer as to where her eldest brother happened to have gone off. Guess it was all him. He caught his reflection in one of the mirrors in the hallway, adjusting his black tie at his neck and raking fingers through his curls. It did nothing to tamp them down. He schooled his expression, solemn, and pushed through the dark wooden doors from the funeral home side of the floor to the entry way. He let them swing back and folded his hands in front of him.

“Welcome to Three Wolves Funeral Home, may I help you?” he asked, voice gentle; you never knew who might be waiting to speak with you on this side of the building. He’d been accused too often in Robb’s post-services discussions of being too cold.

The woman standing in a dark red dress with long black overcoat was not someone who appeared to be in mourning, but then you never really knew, some people were good at masking emotions. Her silver hair was in an elegant, braided knot at the back of her head and she had large black sunglasses folded in her hands, gazing at the table with various brochures for caskets.

She turned, blinking wide violet eyes at him, her lips crimson, face pale. “Good afternoon,” she greeted him, eyebrow arching. “I’m inquiring as to your crematory services.”

“For yourself?” he blurted, before he realized how it sounded.

She smirked, while he flushed, thrown off by her stunning beauty. He tried to school his expression again; she could very well have been there for her husband, boyfriend, or other, he did not need to stumbling through this. He wished Robb was there. “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it? Well, I can assure you I’m not here to burn myself alive, but you know…” She inspected her hand, a couple rings on them glittering gold. She grinned up at him. “I have heard stories my ancestors were immune to flame.”

His throat constricted. “Apologies. Can I help you?”

“Your crematory services?” she wondered again, walking by him and into the showroom, running a finger over an ebony casket.

“Ah…I am afraid Three Wolves does not offer such services. We can, however, assist with selecting one, urns, and preparing a memorial service.” He wondered what she was doing; she was now leaning down to look underneath a massive white casket. No one really cared what the underside looked like. He gestured towards the office. “We can speak in private, if you wish?”

The woman shook her head. “No I’m fine, thank you. Just doing a little bit of research.”

“For a relative?”

“Something like that.” She wore very high heels, which clicked loudly on the hardwood. She glanced sideways; eyes shrewd. “Are you one of the Three Wolves on your sign out front?”

“Yes, Jon Snow, I’m the mortician.” It sounded so creepy like that, but it was the truth. Robb handled the hand shaking, the business side. Arya was their resident makeup artist—she could do wonders with faces practically taking them on and off—but he was the one who handled everything else.

“Hmm, yes I heard of you.” The woman offered her hand. “Dany.”

“Jon,” he repeated, like an idiot. He was put off by her beauty, rather disarming. He swallowed hard again. “Nice to meet you. Is there…”

“This was enlightening Mr. Snow. I’ll be back.” Dany wiggled her fingers, waving, striding out decisively. “See you later.”

What the seven hells was that about? He spun on his heel, about to ask her what else he could help her with, when the front door slammed shut, bell ringing on her exit. He heard the door from the services wing open, Robb walking in. He scowled. “Where were you?”

“Talking with the Umbers, heard it went well, did we have a customer?” Robb adjusted his tie, eagerly seeing dollar signs. “Where are they?”

“They left.”

“Damnit Jon!”

He rolled his eyes, storming by. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“With Tywin Lannister? Better make him look good, the Lannisters are paying through the nose for this.”

“Aye,” he said idly, heading downstairs and to his ‘lair’ as Robb referred to it. He shook his head, preparing in the locker room, putting on scrubs and his protective gear. When he tugged on gloves, walking over to the block of freezer drawers, he rolled his eyes again, making another face. He was better with dead people anyway.

-----

A couple of weeks later, Jon saw the beautiful silver-haired woman again, this time from the front step of the funeral home, while Arya sat on the railing, Robb in shocked horror as the sign went up across the street.

Dracarys Funeral Home and Crematory Services

“How did this happen? We had the run of things here!” Robb exclaimed.

Arya cracked her gum. “Want me to get info?”

The silver haired Dany waved from the front step of her home. “Hello Starks!”

Jon shook his head, appalled. “I thought she was just asking because someone died…like they all do.”

“You didn’t think that she was scoping the competition?” Robb shouted.

“I told you I’m better with the dead than I am the living!”

“Oh leave him alone,” Arya chided. She rubbed Ghost’s ears—his great white wolf—gazing across the street again, shrugging. “Maybe we can make this work. Jon, you were the one who met her, maybe you can get some more info. They do crematory, we don’t. Maybe we can make a deal or something.”

Robb nodded, poking his shoulder. “Go over there, find out more.”

Jon sighed. He really didn’t want to do this. “I have that Wall guy to deal with.”

“Jarl will keep, go find out more.”

He slid away from the column, clicking his tongue for Ghost to follow him, the two of them crossing the street and up to Dracarys. He entered into the front room, seeing that everything was a shade of black and red. He glanced at Ghost, who was scanning the space with his bright ruby eyes, white fluffy tail wagging slowly. “What do you think?” he mumbled.

The walnut wood stairs creaked in the back, drawing him towards the door leading away from the showroom and sitting area. He peeked into another part of the old house, just like how their business was set up, with a viewing room and seating area. He moved to another door, which was open, leading down a set of stairs.

A massive black cat yowled from a sunbeam near the door, hissing at Ghost and running off. Ghost didn’t bark but took off after the cat. He sighed, calling out. “Please don’t kill her cat!”

He went down the stairs and pushed open a set of swinging double doors, pausing at the sight. It was state-of-the art and he scowled at some of the fancy equipment he’d been trying to convince Robb to upgrade to for the last year. He ran his tongue over his teeth, arching a dark brow at the woman who had been wearing head-to-toe designer when he’d met her and now was in black scrubs and protective gear, leaning over a dead man, a kit of makeup and brushes next to her.

“Jon Snow,” she called.

“Daenerys Targaryen.” He used her full name. The proprietress of the competition, he would not refer to her as Dany. “You could have told me you were moving in across the street.”

“And you would have shown me around? I think not.”

He stepped closer, curious at what she was working on. His eyebrows flew to his forehead. “Greyscale, huh?”

“Hmm,” Dany murmured. “Yes.” She looked up, grinning. “I saw you coming over, decided not to stop you from finding me. You’re not squeamish.”

“No I’m not.”

“They call you the King of the Dead.”

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d been called. “And you are?” he retorted.

“The Dragon Queen, I suppose you could call me. Or at least, that’s what they called me at mortician school.” She selected another brush, grinning. “I’m offering a service that your busines does not Jon Snow, that’s all.”

“The North doesn’t burn their dead.”

“I know, but many in the South do. There’s plenty of them moving up here.” Dany stood and pushed the gurney with the greyscale man into the freezer, closing the door. She removed her gloves and gear, walking by him, and began to wash up. She tossed a serene smile over her shoulder. “I think we can make this work Jon Snow. Don’t worry about it.”

“Robb isn’t used to competition.”

“And you?”

He shrugged. “I work better with the dead.”

“So do I.” When she finished, she studied him for a few seconds, which unnerved him. He tore his eyes from her, wondering what she was doing. She approached him, hands on her hips. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

He frowned, nose wrinkling, surprised. “Coffee?”

“A hot beverage, sometimes served with milk and sugar? Other times with various accoutrements like cinnamon or chocolate?” Dany’s smile softened. He saw then how gentle she actually was, how soft. It was comforting and he wasn’t even grieving. She must be very good at her job, he thought. He was numb, unsure how best to reply. She patted his arm, stepping by him. “Come on, I’ve got a lovely blend from Braavos.”

In the kitchen on the third floor of her house, where he assumed, she lived, she prepared the coffee. He wondered where Ghost had gone. “This how you get all the competition?” he managed to get out. “Ply them with coffee?”

“Just you.” Dany sat down across from him at a small bistro table in a large bay window, with a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance. She passed him the mug of coffee and used a small ceramic pitcher to pour milk into her coffee. Lifting it to her lips, she smiled again, warm and eyes dancing. “You intrigue me.”

He sipped his coffee—it was very good—a small smile on his lips. “You are an interesting one, Dany…if that is your real name.”

“Only my friends can call me Dany,” she mouthed.

“And we’re friends?”

“Well I hope we’re not enemies.”

Jon figured he’d have to wait it out and see for certain, but he didn’t think enemies was the best word for it. He was not good at this sort of thing, so he chose to continue drinking his coffee. He set the mug down on the table, sighing and cocking his head, a slight furrow to his brow. “I’m not good at this.”

“I know,” Dany shrugged. “But I am.”

Well that was that then, he figured, smiling at her.

-----

“So where did you two meet?”

Jon wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, as one of Sansa’s friends from King’s Landing had cornered him, trying to get info on Robb. “Where did I meet…?” he echoed, playing dumb.

Margaery Tyrell frowned. “Where did you meet Daenerys? Sansa didn’t tell me. In fact, she’s being really weird about things. Won’t even tell me what Robb does for a living.” Her eyes lit up. “I like a challenge.”

“Um, well…”

His wife of the last two hours emerged at his side, looping her arm through his. “We met at a funeral home,” she said, smiling at Margaery’s wide-eyed, horrified expression. Dany gazed up at him, love shining from her beatific face. “In fact, we contemplated holding the reception there, but figured everyone might think that a little weird.” She smiled even wider. “Also in the future, please keep the Fire on Ice Funereal Services in your thoughts for any funereal needs!”

Jon stifled a snort, glad to be rid of the odd questions. He smiled down at his beloved. “We didn’t actually consider the reception there or…did you?”

“No of course not, I don’t want to mix business and pleasure.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we did?”

“Nah, I came to scope out the competition and this really cute guy who couldn’t look me in the eye without blushing wandered in.” Dany rose on her toes, pecking his cheek. She patted her hand against his chest. She beamed again. “Best decision I ever made. I could have sent Viserys.”

At the mention of her annoying older brother, Jon shivered. He squeezed her close. “Very well then. Let’s at least try to figure out a better story, you’re scaring people.”

“Well it is the truth.”

Jon shook his head, but smiled anyway, his arm around her and hers around him, both of them walking off into the crowd of guests. He even thought that he overheard someone say the King of the Dead had found his queen. He kissed her temple, sighing. He certainly did.

THE END

#jonerys #Jonerys au #Jonerys drabble #worst prompts challenge ACCEPTED #I blame Erika for this one #crack fic totally

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five-rivers · 5 years ago

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Ectober 1: Fog

AKA Familiar Part 3.

Find this and the first two entries to this series here.

Beyond the tiny off-color spot in the center of his right eye, the whole ‘kidnapped and forced to be part of a weird magic ritual’ thing hadn’t altered Danny’s appearance. Good. That was something he always worried about. He let out a long, soft sigh that fogged the mirror in front of him before leaning back.

The police and Danny and Sam’s respective parents had believed the ‘overshadowed and kidnapped’ explanation as well, thank goodness, so they hadn’t gotten in trouble. Which… maybe shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, considering that it had been true, if edited for length and certain damning content (e.g. all the parts with Danny being a ghost and the aforementioned magic ritual). Tucker’s eyewitness account had helped.

Vivian hadn’t made a repeat appearance so far, which was also good. At least, Sam hadn’t called him about her. Danny rubbed his right eye. Something told him she wouldn’t have to call him to know she was in trouble.

Good.

Overall, the time since Danny had flown them back through the portal had been pleasant, or nearly so. He felt happy and oddly secure. Was it just knowing that Sam was alright? She was a major target of his ghostly Obsession. Maybe they could get Tucker in on this as well? They’d taken the book with them, and Danny wouldn’t mind getting stabbed again.

His core vibrated happily in his chest, making his heart and bones shiver.

Yes, that would be nice…

There was a sharp rap on the door. “Danny?” called his mom. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been in there a while, and something like being kidnapped by a ghost…” She trailed off, a touch of anxiety in her voice. “That can be traumatic.”

Oh, no. He’d made Mom worry. Happy feeling gone.

“I’m fine,” he said, turning on the faucet to make it seem like he’d just started washing up. “Really!” He shut the water off and dried his hands quickly before opening the door. “Just, you, know, a bit tired, that’s all.” He smiled, broad and genuine.

Maddie smiled back, although her brow was pinched. She had pushed her hood back, and her hair was frizzy with static. “You were missing for almost a whole day, Danny. You’ll have to forgive me for worrying.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Mom.”

She sighed and ruffled Danny’s hair. “At least, next time you think a friend is being possessed, if there ever is a next time, come to me and your father. Okay? Making sure ghosts don’t hurt people is our job. So is keeping you safe.”

The irony. If only Danny got paid, he could say the same thing. Alas, it was not to be.

He nodded and smiled. No promises. “I think I’m going to go up to bed, now, if that’s okay?”

“Alright,” said Maddie. “Do you still want to go to school tomorrow? Everyone would understand if you didn’t.”

“Yeah. I just- It wasn’t that big of a deal. I want things to go back to normal.”

“Wow,” said Tucker, pointing at Danny. “That is not normal.”

“What’s not normal?” asked Danny, looking down at himself. Had he spilled something on his shirt without noticing? It had happened before. But, no. Everything looked just like it had when he put it on this morning.

“You’re wearing black,” said Tucker.

Danny looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. So?”

“All black.”

“Okay, captain obvious.” He turned to his locker and started putting in his combination. The hallway was just a little bit too crowded for him to feel comfortable phasing through the door to fish for his books.

“You never wear all black.”

“That’s not true. We all wore black at that Saints’ Fire concert just a couple of months ago.”

“Yeah, but that was for a concert. Danny, you’re even wearing the boots Sam got you!”

“I know what I’m wearing, Tucker. It’s just clothes. Do we need our textbook for English today? Or can I just bring Mockingbird? I can’t remember the schedule.”

“Just Mockingbird. Did something happen while you and Sam were in the Zone?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, honestly. “A couple of things. Got complicated. That ghost is apparently Sam’s ancestor. And also a witch. Witches and magic are a thing, I guess.”

“You sure? Could just be ghost powers,” said Tucker, momentarily distracted.

“Pretty sure it’s magic,” said Danny.

“Danny! Tuck!”

The two boys turned to face Sam, who jogged up to them and then doubled over, hands on her knees.

“Are you okay?” asked Danny, worried.

“I wasn’t able to sleep,” said Sam. “Too much energy. You?”

“I slept normally. Had to fight the Box Ghost at three, but,” he shrugged, “that’s normal.”

Sam straightened. “We need to—” She stopped, blinking. “You’re wearing black.”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged.

“Why?”

“You said I should?”

Tucker made a sound like a dying pterodactyl. “Something happened!” he said, excitedly. “They’re embracing their feelings. I’m so honored to witness.” Tucker proceeded to squeal.

“Dude,” said Danny, “what is wrong with you?” Then he glanced at Sam.

Sam looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

Danny deflated. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward, concerned. “I mean, other than not having slept.”

“We really need to talk.”

“Aw, come on, Sam, you can’t end your romance before it even begins,” said Tucker in a singsong voice.

The warning bell went off.

“Lunch, I guess?” asked Danny.

“Sure.”

They sat down in their usual spot behind the school, where no other students went because it was both out of the way and lacked anything resembling a comfortable place to sit. Sam, Tucker, and Danny, however, had adapted.

“So,” said Tucker, rubbing his hands together with glee. “You have to tell me the details. All the details. What happened? Are you guys dating now? How did you get de-liquified? That really freaked me out, by the way.”

Sam put her hands over her face and groaned. “No, we’re not dating. Ugh. How do I even explain what’s going on?”

Danny jumped in. “Sam’s witch ancestor did something weird to my powers and wouldn’t let us go until we did a ritual that, uh, sort of bound me to Sam as a familiar spirit. Also, she wants Sam to be her apprentice. So, we have that to look forward to.” He fished his sandwich out of his bag.

“Wow,” said Tucker. “I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“That was a lot more concise than I expected,” said Sam.

“It hits all the important points, though. Except for the de-liquification. If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure how that happened.”

“Right,” said Sam. “Anyway, we have to figure out how to undo it.”

Danny choked on his sandwich. “What? Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’” demanded Sam, clearly aggrieved.

Danny furrowed his brow. “I know we didn’t do it under the—”

“Word of advice, man, whatever you did do, don’t phrase it as ‘do it.’ Unless this ritual thing involved—"

“Tucker?” said Sam, blushing furiously.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Got it. Sorry. I blame hormones.”

Danny had no idea what Tucker was talking about but decided not to ask. Instead, he let out a quick puff of air. “I know we didn’t want or ask for this, but it does seem to come with some benefits. Did you try out any of the spells in the books we took with us last night?”

“No, because the last one made me stick a needle in your eye!”

There was a fundamental misunderstanding happening here. A disconnect. Danny tilted his head. In moments like these, Spectra’s voice seemed to echo in his head. He ignored it.

“I didn’t mind,” said Danny. “I’ve been hurt worse. Besides, they don’t all need you to stick a needle in my eye. I read them, too, you know.”

“Do you not care about how you can’t lie to me?”

“No? You already know all my big secrets, anyway.” Danny didn’t know why Sam was so upset about this, but it was starting to make him anxious. His fingers had made deep impressions in his sandwich.

“Wait,” said Tucker, “it does what?”

“Yeah!” said Sam, running an agitated hand through her hair. “That’s not all, either. Apparently, he has to follow all my commands, too, like I’m some kind of discount Freakshow!”

“This isn’t like Freakshow!” protested Danny. “I didn’t have any choice about that!”

“You didn’t have any choice about this either,” said Sam, making a sweeping motion with her hands so violently that she rocked back on her heels. “We were basically hostages. You can’t tell me that you’re actually okay with this.”

“I am okay with it,” said Danny, taken aback by Sam’s vehemence. “I like knowing that you’re safe, and, if you have powers, too, you can, you know, be safer. Also, it would be cool if there was someone else who had them, I guess.” His sandwich was well and truly squished at this point. “I was actually… Earlier, I was thinking that it might be a good thing to see if Tucker can get in on this, too.”

“You’re joking,” said Sam, flatly.

“Dude, I think we’ve all seen that I do not handle power well.”

“No,” said Danny, shaking his head. “I like this. And I trust you. Both of you.” His face twisted up. “Maybe back when we started out, and you were talking about freeing zoo animals and wrecking Hummer dealerships I might have been a little apprehensive, but, even back then, I know you wouldn’t have made me do anything I didn’t want to do. You guys let me overshadow you to practice. This isn’t really any different. Right?”

“Don’t look at me, man,” said Tucker, raising his hands. “You two are the ones on the inside.”

Sam stared at Danny for a moment longer before pinching the bridge of her nose. “We need to undo this,” she said, firmly.

The edges of Danny’s eyes started to hurt, and he blinked them rapidly. “Okay,” he said. “If you want to.” It did affect Sam, too, after all. If she didn’t feel like she had consented, then undoing it really should have been a no-brainer.

Danny really didn’t want to undo it. He liked this. He liked the way it made him feel.

“After school,” said Sam.

“Okay,” whispered Danny, looking down at his destroyed sandwich. “I guess I should get rid of this, huh?”

And then he ran.

It would be wrong to say that Sam didn’t feel guilty. She did. She felt hugely, incredibly guilty. Like she’d kicked a puppy.

Thing was, she didn’t exactly have a choice. Danny obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. The ritual must have done something to his head beyond screwing with his free will.

How could anyone be happy when they were forced into obedience?

If they let this go on, Danny would eventually resent her more than she resented her parents. After all, her parents didn’t have mind-control abilities.

“Hey,” said Tucker, breaking the silence that had lain over them since they started the walk to Sam’s house. “Not to be a downer, but what do we do if that ghost—”

“Vivian,” supplied Sam.

“Vivian, right. What do we do if she comes back and she wants you to do magic stuff? Or she gets mad that you cut your connection? We didn’t do a super great job of fighting her last time.”

Danny shrugged, exhaustion evident in the curve of his spine. “We do what we always do. It won’t be the first time it takes us two tries to fight someone.”

“Strategies?” prompted Tucker.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can find some kind of weakness in those books… Though, she probably wouldn’t have let us take them if we could get her weakness from them. If all else fails, I guess we could chuck a bucket of water at her.”

“I hate to say it, but I doubt the Wizard of Oz is a good source for how to deal with witches,” said Tucker.

“Well, considering all the other ways of ‘dealing with witches’ are literal torture, that’s all I’ve got.” Danny’s words were clipped.

Yeah. He was mad.

“We could try some charms and stuff,” suggested Sam.

“Before or after we cut our bond?” asked Danny, no inflection in his tone. “Because that might make the difference.”

“Danny, I’m just not comfortable having you as my slave. Which is what this comes down to.”

“I know,” said Danny. He still didn’t sound happy.

They reached Sam’s house, and they all crowded into Sam’s room for the most intense study session ever. Not counting Tucker’s post-Ember deprogramming.

Sam started with the original book, the one the ritual had come from in the first place. Reading it again made her so mad. Mad enough that, at first, she didn’t notice her rapidly increasing heartrate. Not until she was pressing her hand against her chest and struggling for breath.

“What,” she gasped, “was that?”

Danny shook his head, eyes wide and worried even as he kept his fingers wrapped securely around Sam’s wrist. “I don’t know. Whatever happened, though, your pulse is going back down. What were you looking at?”

“Just the ritual from before… I wanted to see if there were loopholes we could use,” said Sam, trying to get her breathing back under control.

Tucker plucked the book from where it had fallen near Sam’s knee and scanned the page. He winced. “Hey, it says here that your side of the deal is giving Danny your heart.”

“Yeah?” said Sam.

“Your heart, which just went crazy when you started trying to figure out a way to back out of the deal?”

Sam felt Danny’s hand contract around her wrist. “Oh,” he said. “But I didn’t want that to happen.” He sounded lost, hurt, and more than a little offended.

“I know, man,” said Tucker, soothingly, “but you don’t want the contract to be broken, either, right?”

“No,” admitted Danny. “I’m sorry, I like it.”

“Yeah. So,” said Tucker, “I guess it isn’t as one-sided as you thought, Sam.” He made a face. “What was your ‘promise,’ anyway?”

“To be friends,” said Danny. “We thought that would cause the least amount of issues, in case there were penalties.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, okay,” said Tucker. “That makes sense.”

It did.

This was bad.

This was the worst-case scenario. Sam bit down on her lip. Danny was- It was like he was in a fog, as far as this thing went. That’s the only way she could describe it. There was no way he was seeing the situation clearly. It didn’t matter if it was because of the familiar contract or Danny’s ghostly nature.

If Tucker was right and Sam had a heart attack every time she tried to do something about it…

Yeah. That wasn’t good.

“Maybe we should look at something else for today,” suggested Danny, far too cheerfully. “Like, we should see if you can do some of these spells and how it affects us. It seems like I’ve been feeding you energy somehow, right?” He began paging through one of the books. “That’s probably why you were awake all last night. That’s going to be useful, I bet, and oh! This one sounds cool. We could make fog everywhere. Just think about it, Sam. We could be so spooky at night!” He brought out the puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh,” said Sam. “Fine.” She stabbed a finger at Tucker. “You keep searching for a way out.”

The corners of Danny’s lips twitched downward at that, but sprang back up when Sam turned her attention to the spell he had picked out. Weakly, Sam smiled back.

This was going to be hard.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week 2020 #day 1

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peach-pops · 5 years ago

Text

song and movie: i see the light from tangled || 1.4k masterlist

warning(s): light swearing

author’s note: here’s the first 1.4k event! this request is directly based on the actual Toro Nagashi Festival in Japan so if you guys wanna read more about it, click here! maybe just maybe this is a bit ooc for bakugo but i did my best to try and stay along the lines of his character while focusing on the song! let me know if you want to be tagged to the celebration and if you guys liked it!

word count: 1.5k

lyrics: All those days chasing down a daydream. All those years living in a blur. All that time never truly seeing things, the way they were // Now she's here shining in the starlight. Now she's here suddenly I know. If she's here it's crystal clear I'm where I'm meant to go

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

Bakugo rubbed the material of the lantern between his fingers as he waited for his classmates to pass around the pen. The rest of 1-A talked amongst themselves, getting ideas on what they could write on their lantern and the possibilities seemed endless.

Ever since Bakugo was old enough to go to the Toro Nagashi Festival, he wrote the same wish on his lantern to send down the river: to surpass All Might and become the number one hero. Of course, after the events at the Kamino Ward, he had to change his wish up slightly.

Even though Bakugo looked disinterested, he paid close attention to what his classmates were going to write down; Sero and Kirishima gave honor to their ancestors by writing down their family name while others like Iida and Todoroki wished for their families health. It came to no surprise that Kaminari had written a wish to do well in his upcoming exams which only sent the rest of the group into a fit of giggles.

After Uraraka had written down her wish on prosperity for her family, she passed the pen over to you and Bakugo couldn’t help but look over your shoulder as you carefully wrote something that made little sense to him; to my sun, my moon, and all my stars.

You heard Bakugo let out a ‘tch’ underneath his breath so you looked over your shoulder and gave him a curious glance,” What? You don’t like it?”

“ It sounds like a shitty line out of a romance manga,” Bakugo cringed but in the back of his mind, he was hoping you would indulge him on the meaning,” what does it even mean?”

Everyone knew how much of a tough guy Bakugo was to crack but somehow, you had managed to find a way for him to consider you a suitable friend and you both were okay with these set terms. In fact, you were the only one who could drag and beg Bakugo into coming along to the lantern festival to begin with.

“ Well if you’re gonna be mean, I guess you’ll never know,” You hummed as you handed Bakugo the pen.

Your fingers brushed against his only for a moment before he swallowed hard and yanked the pen to his chest, letting out a grumbled response as he wrote down his own wish that made you laugh.

“ What the hell are you laughing at?”

“ Nothing! It’s just very on brand of you, that’s all,” You smiled as you read his dream over in his voice,” to become the number one hero. You’re like a broken record Katsuki! Why don’t you wish for something like everlasting peace or success for your exams like Denki?”

“ I can pass just fine on my own and when I’m number one, I’ll make sure there’s everlasting peace or whatever the hell you said,” Bakugo retorted boldly even though your comment made him feel wary of his wish,” and don’t call me that dumbass.”

Before you could reply back with an even more insulting nickname, a soft chime rang throughout the field where others were waiting with their lanterns. Everyone started to slowly make their way down the hill to the water’s edge and once the class found a space along the water, Todoroki started to help light everyone’s lanterns.

Once your lantern was lit, you sat by the edge of the water and held the lantern in your lap as if you were soaking it all in.

Bakugo said nothing but as he was getting closer and closer to getting his lantern lit, he felt something he hardly ever felt. Anxiousness.

He had no reason to be because in his mind, this was all just some tradition he never second-guessed. For years, he had written down the same dream because even as a child, he had always wanted to be a hero. Things were different now, he still wanted to be a hero but his gut was almost telling him that it wasn’t all that he wanted.

His hand had a mind of his own as he quickly fished out the pen that was still tucked into his pocket and crouched down to write something else along the opposite side of his first wish. He felt his cheeks heat up as he finished writing it and even though he felt himself become somewhat embarrassed, he made no attempt to cross the fresh words out.

The anxiousness he felt faded almost instantaneously now that he was comfortable with his wish but he still didn’t hesitate to threaten Todoroki’s life if he even tried to flip the lantern to the other side to read his new wish.

(Todoroki paid no attention to Bakugo’s threat but obeyed his wishes nonetheless since he had no intention of reading it anyway)

“ Hurry up before this lantern sets me on fire,” You urged Bakugo as he realized you were waiting for him this whole time.

Bakugo only huffed in response but made a rather quick pace towards you and sat down beside you with his lit lantern. He did his best to keep his new wish facing his chest and away from your eyesight and you were none the wiser.

“ Okay, ready?” You asked as Bakugo nodded, waiting for you to make the first move.

You carefully placed your lantern in the cold water and Bakugo followed pursuit after. You let out a small gasp as you watched a part of Bakugo’s lantern start to crumble from the weight of the wrinkled side and you immediately reached out towards it.

Bakugo almost swatted your hand away, in fear that you would see the new wish but you swatted his hand first.

“ Oi baka! Leave mine alone-”

“ Oh shush, I’m helping you!”

His eyes followed your steady hands as you carefully reached down into the water to straighten up his crumbled lantern and became just like new.

“ There ya go, all better,” You said softly as you gave the lantern a helpful nudge to guide it down the slow current,” aw look, our lanterns are floating together!”

Bakugo looked out toward the direction of his lantern and sure enough, both of your lanterns sailed slowly out towards the current of the bay. The action alone made Bakugo’s chest tighten up but your attention was cast out to the sea of lanterns.

The stars along the satin night sky reflected off the water and meshed with the city lights in the horizon, making it look like the whole sky and earth were filled with infinite stars. In your eyes, nothing could compare to the view of specks of various golden shades that rocked slowly along the dark sea but Bakugo would disagree-there was someone who could outshine the view.

There was something about how each lantern represented a person with a dream that made Bakugo feel comfort like no other, almost as if his wish didn’t seem as obscure as someone else’s was bound to be.

And yet, with all of the infinite lanterns that were cast out into the water, Bakugo knew there was no one else in the world who wanted their dream to come true as badly as he did.

“ For as long as I can remember, I’ve always gone to this festival yet every time I come, it completely takes my breath away,” You sighed peacefully as Bakugo understood exactly what you meant,” I will never get used to this, isn’t it beautiful?”

Bakugo’s eyes never left your face as he carefully studied your glowing expression, the flow of the lanterns illuminated your face in a soft light. His chest swelled with warmth and he couldn’t help but let out a soft breath,” Yeah, beautiful.”

Bakugo didn’t mind the comfortable silence between the two of you but knowing you, it wouldn’t last long and he was right.

“You know, I really like what you wrote on your lantern,” You said as you looked at Bakugo, who was already looking back at you,” I hope your dream comes true Katsuki.”

Bakugo let out another ‘tch’ at his name but made no effort to correct you.

He thought you were praising the hero wish so he only nodded. Number one hero.

He had always wanted to hear that sort of praise from people but he wasn’t even thinking of that wish. In all honesty, Bakugo was thinking of the one he had freshly written moments ago after thinking of you, one that he would take to the grave, or for however long the lantern would float along the bay for.

“ Me too...and I hope yours comes true or whatever but I still think it’s stupid,” Bakugo replied as you smiled to yourself before nudging Bakugo’s shoulder playfully to which Bakugo nudged you back even harder,” you ever going to tell me what it means dumbass?”

You shook your head and watched as Bakugo rolled his eyes,” Nope but you’ll find out soon enough.”

Bakugo was fine with your answer as you two both looked out to the bay, watching the infinite lanterns bob up and down across the water.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you thought back to Bakugo’s lantern.

There was never a rule against taking an innocent extra peek at someone’s wish so that’s just what you had done when you adjusted Bakugo’s lantern when you swore you saw extra words that weren’t there the first time.

“ To Y/N, my new dream.”

taglist: boosyboo9206

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kayr0ss · 5 years ago

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A Tactical Approach

[Diakko Week 2020, Day 2: Hand Holding / Cuddles, Fluff] AO3

Happy to participate in Diakko week 2020! @dianakko-week

---

Akko had never considered herself a strategic person but sometimes life led a girl into situations that felt like war.

And this was a battle she was determined to win.

She assessed the setting—it was important to know your surroundings and use them to your advantage after all. What could she possibly do to make the most out of this situation? What was the ideal picture of a victory in her mind?

Victory was sweet. Like plums.

It would also be warm and absolute, full of conviction and with no space for hesitation.

And hopefully victory wasn’t sweaty. Oh by Jennifer—please—she hoped victory wasn’t sweaty!

Why were her hands sweaty now of all times? She sighed, wiping her palms along the fabric of her skirt in an attempt to alleviate the problem. Satisfied, she returned to assessing the terrain of her battle. She was in Diana’s dormitory, sitting on Hannah’s stolen study chair so that she and Diana shared a desk, huddling themselves shoulder-to-shoulder. It was eight fifty-seven in the evening and she had been waging this war for all of seventeen minutes by now.

Yes, she was counting since eight forty.

The opposing party of this skirmish just so happened to be the object of her affections. What were her motivations? What would her next move be? Akko squinted at her foe, watching as she flipped another page of the Ancient Runes textbook she was examining. She brushed back blonde and green tresses behind her ear, the candlelight of the lamp on her desk flickered playfully across her features and oh my god she has it bad, doesn’t she?

Akko exhaled, releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Diana looked up, blue eyes softer than usual, and tilted her head in inquiry.

“Is everything alright, Akko?”

Ah. She really had it bad.

“Yeah.” Akko said in a quiet voice. It was so unlike her that Diana’s brow quirked upward. The movement was subtle, but they were near enough to each other for Akko to notice.

“Book.” The blonde chided, pointing downwards to the (very much ignored) Divination textbook lying in front of Akko. “You’re getting distracted again.”

Akko simply huffed. “Like it’s my fault!”

That won a small chuckle out of Diana, who turned a little pink if Akko wasn’t seeing things. This meant the implication didn’t go over her head—and that was all and well. Akko didn’t want it to go over her head. She knew that Diana knew that she… felt things.

Many, difficult to describe things that she frankly didn’t have the vocabulary for, so she’d much rather express it in actions. Diana leaned in a little, bumping their shoulders playfully. Akko giggled, looking back towards the pages of her book with no intention of reading. She felt her face heat up but she still smiled, appreciative of what was such a small yet meaningful gesture of affection from the normally aloof Diana.

She bumped her shoulder back. They were both smiling into their books now.

These little interactions had brought her back to the essence of her battle—of the mission she was on, and the victory she aimed to secure.

Now wasn’t the time to get distracted! The setting was perfect: quiet, candle-lit, with the rest of the room glowing softly in yellow and without Hannah and Barbara in sight. The curtains were pulled open and, despite it being a little cloudy, the view was just as wonderful as a clear night sky.

Akko examined her artillery options. She already used the 'shoulder bump'. Was it a good time to…

To maybe… lean her head on her shoulder?

She huffed while shaking her head and pretended it was because of the book. That wouldn’t work. She’d have a hard time reading and would probably fall asleep. She didn’t want to put Diana in a situation where she’d have to support her weight too much.

Displaying affection was such a difficult war to wage.

Her most distal appendages might work though—she had a whole two hands with fingers and thumbs! Right. She should use those. Maybe. But they were sweaty! Gods, did this have to be so hard!

But she was Akko Kagari and so far just doing it had worked wonderfully for her! And so she threw caution to the wind, and… placed her hand on the desk.

It was a strategic move. If Diana picked up on her cue, she should place her hand within pinky-reaching distance, right? Right? Akko swallowed, trying her best to look disinterested in where Diana’s hand would fall next.

The blonde had finished the words on her page, and motioned to flip to the next. Akko watched in her peripheral vision, almost in slow motion, as Diana’s hand fell back lower, lower and finally—yes!

She put it on the desk. Beside Akko’s hand.

Akko picked up an extra quill and flipped open her notebook, keeping her left hand obviously still and available, hoping that Diana hadn’t started learning Japanese because she decided to write her notes in her native language to ‘aid with recall.’

Never mind the fact that she was nervously scribbling ‘please hold my hand, please hold my hand, please hold my han—” over and over again.

Ah, but Diana seemed engrossed, and Akko took it up on herself to take initiative. Again.

It was time to deploy stealth tactics.

Slowly, and with no small amount of nervousness, she inched her pinky finger a whole centimeter to the left. That was progress! Diana hadn’t noticed. Perfect. Emboldened by her success, she went and moved in closer.

Shit. Diana pulled her hand to scratch an itch along her chin and—that was illegal, it was so cute! To Akko’s relief, her hand returned to its original position except this time it was… closer?

Was Diana picking up on her stealth tactics?

Suddenly losing her nerve, Akko ceased her slow advance. But then why would she? Reciprocation was a good thing, right?

She took a chance, looking towards her notebook to scribble a little more nonsense, and then brushed their pinky fingers together.

Surely such a small action should not have such a profound effect on her—felt from the tips of her ears, down to the pit of her stomach. There was fluttering, fluttering everywhere and this slow exchange felt like it was going to drive her insane!

Wasn’t Diana supposed to be the overthink-y one?!

Then she noticed that Diana had gone remarkably pink. Her eyes were still on the book, but there were details that Akko finally picked up once she let herself stare for just a minute.

Diana’s eyes weren’t moving. They were intense and boring a hole into what must have been the same passage on that very same page[3] for the past two minutes. Her eyes fluttered prettily, and Akko swooned a little.

She hooked their pinky fingers together—Diana had obliged willingly.

It was fascinating to watch the way she tried to steel her expression, but the way the column of her throat moved as she gulped was something Akko didn’t miss.

Oh, this was going to be the death of her. She pulled her own red eyes back towards her textbook.

Was Diana nervous too? Looked like it, at least a bit. The thought of it made the fluttering grow stronger than it ever did before, and Akko figured she was probably a raging shade of red by now.

But she loved every minute of it.

Diana—god damn it—pulled on the cuff of Akko’s sleeve to bring her hand closer, and pried her palm open, facing upwards.

And then she began to gently brush her fingertips along the inside of her palm, still feigning interest for her textbook, and Akko wanted to set herself on fire.

Akko never wanted this to end. Her heartbeat was going into overdrive, and she was pretty sure her palms were starting to sweat again but it was too late to care about that now, wasn’t it? Diana’s breathing seemed shallower, and that was a sentiment she could relate with. Somehow, it was comforting to see that she wasn’t the only one so nervous about this whole ordeal.

Praying to each and every one of her Asian ancestors, Akko steeled her nerves.

She’s going to do it.

She’s going to move in for the winning blow.

She splayed out her hands, gently, doing her best to caress every inch of skin Diana had in contact with her, before catching the spaces in between Diana’s fingers to fit her own hand snugly into a hold.

Diana was done pretending to care about the book. She had gasped, softly, and looked downwards towards their hands. She was blushing wonderfully, eyes wide, and the small smile that grew on her lips was an image Akko wanted to remember forever.

“Shall we take a break?” Diana finally broke their silence. She looked up towards Akko and—by the nine the look she was receiving was so tender it felt almost unreal.

“That’d be nice.” Akko giggled, dropping any pretense of disinterest as well.

Diana looked a little shy and hesitant, and Akko was about to ask why but then Diana leaned forward, snuggling close as she settled her forehead on Akko’s shoulder. She was trying to hide a grin. How sly!

“I can see the smile on your face, you know.” Akko’s giggles didn’t end, and she rarely spoke so softly.

“Can you blame me?” Diana’s speech was muffled against her shoulder, smile evident in the sound of her voice.

“Gotta admit, I can’t.” Akko’s grin was just as wide.

“I could get used to this.” Diana admitted, running her thumb against the back of Akko’s.

Now that they’d finally gotten to holding hands, they might have some trouble learning how to let go. Diana definitely showed no intention of doing so anytime soon.

Akko’s chest bloomed with warmth, affection, and something more.

Victory was sweet.

It was also a little sweaty and involved a lot of nerves and—

(Akko watched as Diana pulled herself upright again, bringing Akko’s hand closer towards her)

—it felt like a kiss to the back of her hand.

---

fin

---

A/N: Thank you to Tototops, who did a wonderful job beta reading and correcting all the little errors I made in this chapter! I appreciate you so much, you did so good!

Also yes hand holding is a BIG DEAL guys

#Diakko #Dianakko #Diakko Week 2020 #Dianakko Week 2020 #Diakko Week #Day 2: Hand Holding #Haha #Fluff #LWA #Diana Cavendish #Akko kagari #i love them sorry #our babies

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softboywriting · 5 years ago

Text

Haven Port | Chapter Four | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Shawn and his pack have moved to your tiny town of Haven Port. You’ve never met werewolves other than your dad before and you’re infinitely curious. You may be only half werewolf but you and Shawn have a connection that will send you on a wild romantic journey in this small town you call home. [hybrid reader] [werewolf shawn]

Word Count: 2.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

You and Shawn stay up for hours talking about everything and nothing. You find out he has two brothers who have their own packs. You tell him about your dad and what it was like growing up in Haven Port. Shawn tells you about his parents and how they moved far into the Canadian wilderness when the pack he grew up in disbanded just two years ago.

Around one in the morning you find yourself slipping into unconsciousness, laying with your head on Shawn's lap. It's easy to drift off when he is talking, voice soft and level as he strokes your hair and ears. You're not sure what he's talking about currently, you've been so out of it for several minutes now.

"Shawn?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't some packs like hybrids?"

"Genetic impurity." Shawn sighs heavily. "Some people think humans shouldn't be allowed to taint the bloodlines our people fought hard to keep alive. It's stupid really, because if we hadn't cross mated with humans we would all be dead by now. The ones who argue for purity disgust me because even they have human ancestors whether they want to acknowledge it or not."

"We're all mutts in the end." You yawn sleepily. "Such a stupid term."

"Mutt?" Shawn brushes his thumb over your ear gently. "That's a terrible word. It's a pretty low blow to people who are hybrids like you."

"I've heard it before, I don't take it personally."

"Someone called you that directly?"

"In school. It's been a long time, and teenagers are mean."

Shawn hums. "I've only heard other werewolves call hybrids that, not human kids. Interesting."

"It's fine."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mmhmm." You close your eyes and he stills his hand in your hair. "Yeah?"

"While you were distancing yourself, did you feel anything?"

You peek one eye open and he's looking out across your room. "Feel something? Like what?"

"Heartache." He looks down and his eyes meet yours. He looks overwhelmingly sad. "Sadness, longing, sleeplessness."

"Yeah, all of those things actually."

He closes his eyes and cradles your head against his stomach. Tears fall on your nose and forehead.

"Shawn?" You reach up and touch his cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm relieved." He sniffs and wipes his face before taking a deep breath. "I was worried that you didn't feel the pull of a mate. I was scared I was wrong about us, that things were very onesided."

"The heartache and stuff is because we're mates?"

"Yes. When mates get separated without knowing they'll come back to each other, they will feel heartbroken and lethargic." Shawn twists his finger around your hair. "It's a bit extreme, but it's how mates work. We love very passionately."

You turn your face into his stomach. "I haven't been sleeping, and I've been so upset and vulnerable lately. It makes sense now. Did you feel like that? Was it really bad?"

"I felt like I was going to fall apart. I was moody and angry. I didn't sleep, I went for late night runs instead. I tried to come see you at first but I couldn't find you and so I figured you didn't want to see me, which made things hurt more. I don't want to feel like that again."

"I'm sorry." You whimper, fingers curling into your bedspread. "I caused so much grief."

Shawn strokes you ear and brushes back your hair from your face. "Look at me," he says gently and you look up from where you've turned your face mostly into his stomach. "You didn't know. It wasn't intentional. You thought you were doing the right thing. I understand, and I forgive you."

You nod.

Shawn leans back and you position yourself so you're laying against his side, head on his shoulder. A few minutes pass and you think of how you felt without him versus how it feels now. There is nothing like feeling comfortable, safe...loved.

"Do you think the pack will try to get to know me?" You ask softly just as Shawn's breathing slows down as if he were going to sleep.

"Yes." He mumbles.

"What if they don't like me?"

"Then they can leave."

You look up and he's got his eyes closed. "But they're your pack. I can't come between you and them."

Shawn slides his hand up the back of your shirt and traces your spine tenderly. "You're my pack too. Everyone was new once. If they choose not to get along with you then they can choose to get along elsewhere. I'd expect the same if I brought in anyone else."

"You want me in the pack?"

"How could I not? You're my mate, believe it or not, I have no plans to leave your side any time soon."

You close your eyes and lay your hand over his heart. It beats steadily, and he brings his hand up to lay over it. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Coming to Haven Port. I thought I'd be alone with Parker until I died, then you walked into my shop and changed my whole world. So thank you."

He hums softly. "I was supposed to come here. It was meant to be, and I'm glad I did. I didn't expect to meet you but when I did I knew why I chose Haven Port."

"So you're saying it was fate?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, I'm glad fate came through."

"Me too."

_____________________

Two days later and you go to Shawn's place for the second time. You're nervous, hands shaking as Shawn pulls into the driveway. It's reminiscent of the first visit, same time of evening and everything.

Shawn reaches over and holds his hand out, palm up for you. "I've talked to them. There is no need to be nervous."

"Tell that to my gut. I feel like I'm going to puke."

"Please don't throw up." He threads his fingers between yours and brings your hand to his lips. "They respect me, they know what I expect from them."

"Okay. If...if I'm uncomfortable can I leave?"

"Yes. Always."

The house is empty when you walk in. There is no one at the door, no one in the main room. There isn't so much as a peep from anyone or anything but the heater in the corner of the living room under the window. It's much less of a greeting than before and you're not sure if it's better or worse.

"Guys! I'm home!" Shawn announces and walks up behind you, arm wrapping around your waist. "They're here somewhere."

Ryan jogs down the stairs and his steps falter when he sees you. "You brought company?"

"No, I brought a member of the pack." Shawn says firmly.

"Right, yeah. I forgot." Ryan looks up where Lindsay and Jo are both standing at the top of the staircase. "Shawn's home."

Jo turns and goes back to where ever she had come from.

Lindsay walks down slowly until she's a step above Ryan. "Hey, long time no see."

You raise your hand in an awkward wave. "Yeah, I have been...uh...busy."

Shawn looks past the two of them and scowls. "What is Jo doing?"

"I don't know?" Ryan shrugs and Lindsay shakes her head.

Shawn releases his hold on you and pushes past the two wolves on the stairs to go find the youngest member of the pack. You're left alone, staring down two people you don't know how to approach.

Ryan steps down until he's in front of you. "So, what do you do?"

"I run a tea and coffee shop. I make gift baskets that I sell online." You pull a sample of a chamomile blend from your pocket. You brought some with you to hopefully give as peace offerings. "You can try one?"

Ryan takes the bag from you and turns it over in his hands. "You made this?"

"Yeah, the flowers are from-"

"Who cares." Lindsay says as she walks past and into the living room.

You clench your jaw and look down as you feel yourself flush with anger.

"Thanks." Ryan says and follows Lindsay, leaving you alone in the entryway.

Shawn comes down the stairs and looks around for the other two. "Where'd they go?"

"I don't know." You swallow thickly. "I don't care. I want to leave."

"What? What happened? I was gone for a minute." He holds your shoulders. "What happened?"

"They don't like me Shawn. They don't even want to try to like me." You flatten your ears back and take a deep breath. "They hate me because I'm a hybrid. You said it yourself that their old pack didn't like hybrids. I'm pretty sure they didn't grow out of an idea that was ingrained in them as children."

Shawn growls. "Lindsay! Ryan!"

Both of the wolves appear and you go up the stairs to Shawn's bedroom. You don't want to be around when he lays into them. You don't want to be the center of attention.

You take a seat in Shawn's room near the door. No sooner than you get sat down then the door opens. It's Jo. She looks down and then closes the door behind her.

"I'm sorry." She says softly. "I'm sorry I made fun of your ears and upset you. That was insensitive and rude. I thought because Lindsay and Ryan were talking about them it'd be okay, that it was just a joke, y'know? Looking back on it now I was so mean for no reason. I don't think your ears are weird or stupid. I'm so sorry I was a bitch."

"O-oh. Thank you for apologizing."

Jo sits down across from you. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah, but why would you want to tell me?"

"Because it sort of involves you. The truth is that I was upset when Shawn brought you home." She picks at the rug under her legs, eyes focused on it instead of you. "I thought Shawn and I had a connection. I thought maybe because I'm a few years younger than him that was the reason he didn't want to pursue it. But I was wrong, I was jealous and angry."

You remember what Ava told you, how she suspected this all along. "Oh, that must have been rough when you found out. I'm sorry."

"No, you don't have to be sorry." She looks up. "I made a mistake, I mistook feelings of brotherly love for the wrong thing. I-I should have gone with Peter probably."

"Peter?"

"Shawn's brother, one of his brothers. He invited me to go with him, and I liked him too, but I chose Shawn." She scoffs. "Now I have no idea how to find Peter even if I did want to leave."

"Are you unhappy here?"

"No. Well, sort of. I love Shawn to death and Ava is like a sister to me. It's just that without Shawn, I'm not sure if I'll ever find someone. I held on to the hope that he was the one for so long." Jo wipes her cheeks and you realize she's crying. "I played myself, I should have known. Now it just hurts."

You reach out and tentatively lay your hand on her leg. "You'll find someone, maybe Shawn knows how to get ahold of Peter. Have you asked him?"

"No. I don't want to ask. I don't want him to think I want to leave."

"But if you're unhappy..."

Jo sighs. "I'll be fine. Besides, Lindsay and Ryan are leaving. They haven't said it to Shawn yet but they are, I overheard them talking a few nights ago."

Your stomach churns. "Why are they leaving?"

"They think Shawn isn't a good alpha, that he's too soft and doesn't care about the good of the pack. Which is wrong, he's incredible and he has always taken care of us. They're just angry."

"Because of me."

Jo nods. "I think they have a problem with you. I don't know why, there is nothing wrong with you."

"It's because I'm a hybrid."

"That's stupid. You're Shawn's mate, you're still a wolf even if you're a hybrid." Jo leans back and braces herself on her arms. "I actually think you're very interesting."

"Thank you?"

"I mean it. I've never met someone who has wolf ears. Do you have a tail too?"

"No!" You laugh and Jo giggles. "Do you see a tail?"

She shrugs and leans over as if looking for it sticking out behind you. "You could hide it, but no, I don't see one. Too bad, I'm sure Shawn would be into it."

"That's so weird."

"Shawn's weird." Jo says softly and goes quiet as if reflecting for a moment. "He's weird but he's also one of the best men I've ever met. You're very lucky."

"You'll find someone like him."

"I know, one day right?"

"Yeah. One day."

_____________________

Shawn takes you home later that evening. Lindsay and Ryan both disappeared, you've no idea where they went but they were not around when you crept down the stairs with Jo after talking for a while. You're sure Shawn must have come to find you and heard you and Jo talking and left you alone. It turns out that Jo has a lot in common with you. You both love cats despite your wolf nature, you both like to knit and sew, she loves coffee and you obviously do too. It's great, and she gives you hope that maybe you could be part of the pack one day.

Shawn turns the Jeep down your street and he reaches over and lays his hand on your leg. "I'm proud of you today."

"Why?"

"You talked to Jo. You let her apologize to you for what she did. I knew she would, that she doesn't think like Lindsay and Ryan." He pulls into your driveway and kills the engine. "I'm sure it's not easy for her to see us together."

"You know how she feels about you?"

"Yes." He sighs. "I've never lead her on, and I tried to always keep everything as platonic as possible. Still she always had that look in her eye. It kills me to break her heart but she knows that mates are not a choice."

"Yeah, she knows."

"Can I come in?"

You lift his hand from your leg and press your palm to his. It's so warm, and so big. "I'm just going to go to bed, but if you want to, I won't say no."

"I'd love to."

You and Shawn go into the house and he goes to the kitchen to make a cup of tea with the chamomile bags you brought with you. You go to the bathroom and clean up, wash your face, put on some lotion before bed, the usual things.

"You're so beautiful."

You shut off the sink and look over at Shawn leaning against the door frame. He's smiling, soft and gentle, just a slight turn of his lips. "Thank you."

"Everything about you is so inviting." He steps into the small bathroom and sets down the mug of tea he's cradling in his hand. He walks you back against the counter after you turn around to hang up your hand towel. "Your eyes, your smile...your voice." He trails off, eyes heavy on your lips. "I'm so lucky."

"I'm lucky, not you."

"No, I'm a hundred percent sure I'm the lucky one." He brushes back a bit of stray hair that's fallen in your face. "Y'know... we're mates and we haven't even kissed."

"Yeah?" You smile playfully. "So what?"

"So maybe I could change that."

"Or maybe you can wait." You press two fingers to his lips and he kisses them. "Let's let it happen naturally. There's no fun in just doing it for the sake of doing it."

Shawn smiles and scratches your ear briefly before stepping back just a bit. "I'll wait forever if I have to. I know it'll be worth it."

You grab his hands and walk backwards toward the doorway. "I know it will be. Now, are you going to stay again?"

"If you're comfortable with that, yes."

"I'm very comfortable with it."

Shawn breaks one hand away and he grabs the mug of tea from the counter. "Alright then, lead the way honey."

—————

Please send feedback in asks, replies or reblogs. Let me know if you’d like to read more of this story. Thank you so much -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes werewolf au #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes words #shawn mendesxreader #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fics #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes au fic #haven port

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phantoms-lair · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Face Myself Part 3

Woot, actually got it out in time for the new video!

As Lewis entered the cave it began to fade around him, leaving him in a much smaller and narrower space, the rip being the only thing that stated the same.

“Lewis you need to stop antagonizing him.” Lewis opened his mouth to argue but Mystery cut him off. “He didn’t take Arthur to the actual place he died, he turned this truck container into a recreation of it. He’s powerful enough to warp reality, so badly it tore a hole in space and time. He’s powerful and unhinged and you need to be more careful.”

Lewis swallowed and nodded. As much as he wanted to dig some more at the wraith’s stupidity, it showed it didn’t think of collateral damage and there was an injured Vivi out there. Bracing himself, he exited the back of the truck. But whatever he was expecting, it paled in the face of what he was seeing.

Kingsmen’s was a place he’d been countless times before. But it was currently a warzone. The van was crashed into the side of the building. Vivi was injured on the ground, clutching a sword. Lance was standing over her, the smoke from his shotgun showing he’d just fired it.

What he’d shot was a strange plant lady, half her face missing but rapidly regrowing. She was fighting off what looked like a giant Mystery and the Wraith with an oversized pair of shears.

It was almost too much to take in, so Lewis focused on the important part. If Vivi was still on the ground while this was going on she was definitely hurt. He ducked over to where she was, ready to carry her away in the confusion.

“Wha-Lewis?!” Lance asked in disbelief. “Where the devil have you been, boy?”

“I don’t know, apparently undead and out of my freaking mind?” Lewis couldn’t keep his panic out of his voice. Vivi was nowhere near as bad as Arthur was, but she still looked like she’d been knocked around a bit.

“Have you seen Arthur? I can’t find him.” Lewis was sure Lance had wanted to ask a whole bunch of other questions, but of course that one took priority.

“Apparently Anger Issues over there accidentally ripped a hole into the past and future Arthur fell out of it. My Vivi and Arthur are taking him to the hospital. Mystery and I stayed behind to distract the wraith.”

“Hospital?” Vivi tried her best to sit up. “Lemme up. I need to get to Arthur.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’re getting you to the hospital as soon as we can.” He glanced up. “Do you think we can sneak her out?”

“Not sure. The plant lady was pretty focused on her.” Lance huffed.

Lewis glanced around. There wasn’t much cover, besides the truck he had emerged from (and damn, apparently the chaos had overwhelmed Mystery. He was just sitting in front of the trailer and staring). “The rip is in the truck. If we can get Vivi there, we can go back to the present and hopefully lose her.”

“That’s where Arthur is?” Vivi asked hopefully. “It is,” Lewis confirmed.

He and Lance helped her up and led her towards the portal when the plant lady gave a sudden shriek and rocketed towards them, blades first. Lewis pulled in front of him and curled around her. He only hoped those shears weren’t powerful enough to go through him and into her.

A blur of white and red whooshed past him as Mystery, the one who’d come with him, collided with the plant lady. Only now he was the size of a small horse with far too many tails.

Apparently the canine who has been fighting the tree lady didn’t just look like Mystery.

Speaking of, the tree lady seemed shocked by a second Mystery and was thrown off enough that the wraith and his Mystery was able to drive her back. The older, more injured Mystery limped toward them. He stared at Lewis a moment. “Time Travel?” he asked. “Thanks to my idiotic future self.” Lewis grumbled.

“Future self?” Lance turned an incomprehensible look on him. Apparently they hadn’t put it together that the rampaging wraith was his ghost. “You’ve been trying to hurt Arthur?” Vivi’s voice was a growl, fierce despite the fact that she couldn’t stand on her own. “You know I would never- Father Wennel.”

Vivi’s face cleared immediately. “Oh...oh that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Lance’s tone was dark. “Father Wennel was a priest whose church was a station on the Underground Railroad. He was caught and tortured for other locations, but died rather than give them up. Because of his violent death he came back as a wraith - and immediately attacked his former comrades.” Vivi explained.

“All he could remember about his death was their names and locations, the information he was trying to hide.” Lewis continued. “And in his altered state mistakenly believed the information was of the people who killed him. So if I died violently while worried about Arthur-” “And Arthur lost his arm the same time you disappeared.” Lance finished sadly. He glanced at the burning wraith.

“Don’t pity him.” Lewis said heatedly. “That thing used to be me, but it isn’t anymore. It’s dangerous and will stop at nothing to hurt Arthur. It needs to be put down. If we’re lucky it and the tree lady will take each other down.”

“No chance of that.” Mystery said grimly. “He is exceptionally powerful for a ghost, especially for a new ghost, but Shiromori is on a whole different level. I know no way to permanently defeat her, and the only one who can stop her, even temporarily, is Vivi.” “Me?” she asked, surprised.

Mystery nodded. “She was sealed away by your ancestor centuries ago. You could redo the sealing-” “How?” Vivi demanded. “-by driving your ancestor’s blade through her.” Mystery finished. Vivi shot him a look. “Two problems with that. One, I have no clue where it is, two I can barely stand much less wield it.” “The first is not a problem, it can be summoned. The second is more pressing.” “Which is why we should continue with the getting out of here,” Lewis pointed out. He tried to pull her towards the truck, but a wall of plant matter burst through the pavement blocking their path. “Makes sense, if I’m the only one who can stop her, she won’t let me go.” Vivi gritted her teeth. “Okay, Mystery how do I summon the blade?” “You must speak its name.” Mystery leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Vivi nodded. “Okay, big guy, can you support me? I need you to be my framework.”

“No problem.” Funny, though, it was usually Arthur who called him Big Guy. He leaned down, supporting her weight on his arms. He closed his hands around hers, steadying the bat she was holding like a sword. “Thanks,” she said, then shouted something in Japanese.

Lewis couldn’t understand it, but it apparently infuriated the tree lady, who abandoned her fight with his Mystery and his ghost, and made her charge towards them.

“Lunge forward when I say.” Vivi instructed. She gripped the bat tighter, causing Lewis to improve his grip around her.

Tree lady’s shears was uncomfortably close when Vivi shouted “Now!* along with something else in Japanese. The previously blunt bat glowed and extended into a blade, right through the enemies chest.

The monster looked shocked and horrified. She dropped her shears as the excess vegetation shriveled and died. The shears fell from her grasp as her body shrunk in on itself until there was nothing left but a twisted vaguely human shaped tree.

“Holy fuck.” Vivi whispered, staring at the tree.

Lewis’s Mystery collapsed in relief, shrinking back to a dog, while the future Mystery nuzzled Vivi. “You did amazing.”

“You have so much explaining to do buster.” Vivi breathed heavily. “But not now. We got to go through that tunnel and find Arthur.” “*ArThUr…”

Oh yeah. That. “Get over it!” Lewis snapped, forgetting what Mystery had told him about not antagonizing the wraith. You know the story of Father Wennel, Vivi told us ages ago even in my time. You know Arthur would never want to hurt me, especially not for as stupid a reason as that.” “Of COURSE I know about Father Wennel!” The wraith snapped back. “But he couldn't remember his death. I very clearly remember Arthur laughing as I fell to my death. And then having the nerve to ‘look’ for me as if he didn’t know what he’d done.” “He didn’t!” the older Mystery protested, drawing the attention of everyone there. “I changed my mind.” Vivi said shortly. “Start talking.”

The kitsune looked visibly uncomfortable. “It was my fault. I wasn’t fast enough. The demon in the cave took Arthur’s body for his own and killed Lewis before I could move. The only way I could get it out was taking his whole arm off.” Mystery was whining through the story, the memory clearly causing him pain.

That was a lot to unpack. Lewis glanced around. He couldn’t see Vivi clearly from the angle he was holding her at, but his own Mystery was looking clearly horrified and Lance looked shocked, but also angry at the kitsune (if Lewis had to guess, for being the one who dismembered his kid).

“That sounds too convenient.” The Wrath growled.

“That sounds the opposite of convenient,” Lewis shot back.

“Arthur pushed me!” The Wraith shouted. “He killed me with a smile! Why is everyone making excuses for him?”

“Why are you making excuses for it to be him?” Vivi met the wraith’s gaze with calm certainty. “I know who you are now and I know Arthur. And at one point you knew him too.” Vivi tilted her head up and looked at the Lewis holding her. “I’ve seen how far Arthur would go for you, he cares more for you than for himself. So why are you so determined for Arthur to be the villain in your story?”

“Because he is, why can’t you see that?” The golden locket thumped on his chest in a way that looked painful. From the cracks in it purple flames seemed to lick out from the inside.

She was gone. The demon let itself relax at last. It had been annoying for her to show up right as he had finally freed himself from that cave. He didn’t know if she had left or been slain, but he was leaning towards the former. Now he could come out of hiding and continue.

It wasn’t hard to find the kitsune. He was leaking power and nearer by than could be hoped. It skittered as fast as it could manage toward the beast. There. And what luck, he was damaged too. There were others, some mortals and the ghost of that one boy it had killed the last time it had almost claimed a host, but they were inconsequential. Mortals were powerless and such a newly formed ghost would hardly be better.

True, it’s own strength was diminished enough that it would need to kill the kitsune before it took him as a host, but for trapping it in this arm, it was more than willing.

There, it was distracted, Now was the time.

The Wraith’s attempts to cast doubt on Arthur’s character was interrupted by the older Mystery screaming as something green latched onto his throat. Five thin splotches of blood began to stain his fur.

“Mystery!” Vivi called out, trying to run to him, but having her knees buckle under her.

Lewis continued the charge, yanking the thing off Mystery’s next. Then he saw what he was holding and flung it away with a scream.

It was an arm, green but not with the color of rot. The nails had become black talons now liberally coated in Mystery’s blood and a single eye stared out hatefully from the palm. But the worst thing from Lewis’s perspective was the dirty worn wristband around it’s wrist. He knew that wristband, had bought it himself as a gift for his friend.

This was Arthur’s arm.

“There,” Older Mystery gasped. “..is your killer.”

“You…” The Wraith stared at the arm, and Lewis knew he must have recognized it the same way he did. “What are you going to do about it?” taunted the demon within, in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

And then there was fire. So much purple fire that Lewis pulled Lance and Vivi in close to try and protect them and both Mysterys stood protectively in front him. The flames devoured everything, rendering the arm into ashes as well as the demon inside. The tree that used to be a monster was unaffected, but the shriveled remains of vines and such went too. All the while the wraith screamed.

Soon there as nothing left to burn, but he continued screaming. His form flickered, first into Lewis’s face on the wraiths form, then as he was currently, and finally covered in blood with gaping gory holes in his torso and head. The screams changed too, from anger to fear and pain. The Locket was thumping like a heartbeat, with flames blasting out of it and shard flying off.

“He’s destroying himself,” The older Mystery realized. “He was formed from a hatred of Arthur and a desire to avenge himself. He’s done the latter and now knows Arthur is innocent of any wrongdoing. His power is turning itself inward.”

“That’s why he couldn’t believe Arthur was innocent.” the younger Mystery added. “His very existence depended on Arthur being guilty.” The two looked at each other then nodded and charged into the flames.

Lewis felt his heart jump into his throat and Vivi actually cried out, but the flames didn’t seem to touch either of them. Spells flowed simultaneously from both their mouths as they wove a sealing spell around the wraith. The flames vanished, leaving only silence and a badly damaged locket sitting still on the pavement.

#MSA #Ghost Writing #I'll Face Myself #Just as a note when Vivi says she knows him now she's referring to him being the person Arthur's looking for #Not that she actually rememebrs Lewis

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zebrabaker · 5 years ago

Text

Choosing Destiny; Part 2

Here ya go!!

“Um, hi” Raven said, “My name is Raven um- Queen, it’s nice to meet you.” holding out her hand.

“My name is Epel, oh- Felmier, it’s nice to meet you too,” He shook her hand “Sorry if I’m awkward, this would normally be Vil’s job. He’s our dorm leader.”

“Ah, I understand. I’m pretty awkward myself. So, any tips on how to survive here at Night’s Raven? I’m pretty new around here”

“Well um- always avoid Azul. He’s the dorm head of Octavinelle, he loves to make these “deals” with people,” The boy spoke, leading Raven down the halls, “Oh, Also! steer clear of Riddle, he’s the dorm leader of Heartslaybul. There, the students have to follow a bunch of made up rules and if you don’t, Riddle gets mad!” and through twisting corridors, passing a cafe of sorts. They reached the dormitory, tall brick walls surrounded by thin pathways and evergreen trees.

“This is the Pomefiore dorms. You and I are going to be on the top floor, since we’re first years. We share the two bathrooms with every other first year” Raising his hand, he swiped a key card against the keypad, opening the door “The bathroom cleaning is handled by students, but magic is used, so we don’t have to scrub anything, lazy pricks.”

Raven didn’t seem to hear Epel’s afterthought; her attention was on the lavish lounge they walked into, polished chandeliers hung from the ceiling, white rugs with floral embroidery.

The chairs and tables filled to the brim with boys scattered about, studying, playing, talking, strangling each other wait what-

“There you are Epel! Today is your day to help repair the- who is this?” A boy with long icy blonde hair had come storming over, beginning to berate Epel before he noticed her.

He had flawless eyeliner.

“Hello! I’m- Raven Queen. It’s nice to meet you!” The boy stopped and stared at her for a moment. “I was placed here in Pomefiore, the mirror thingy said that it was because I was the Evil Queen’s daughter”

“Deep apologies, did you just say, ‘Evil Queen’s daughter’?” He asked.

“Er, yup.” Raven awkwardly rubbed her neck, heat crawling. “Apparently you guys call her the ‘beautiful queen’ here? Sorry, I’m new to Twisted Wonderland, I’m from Ever After” looking over her shoulder, she could see the students staring at her. The boy stood, gaping at her before being interrupted by Rook Hunt, who had bounded to them.

“Mademoiselle! It’s wonderful to see you again! How is your ankle?”

“I’m fine now, thanks for asking. I’m actually gonna be a new student, I start classes tomorrow... I think so anyway. The headmaster didn’t make it clear, he’s strange. Not as bad as Giles, but still pretty hard to understand.” Raven giggled, and the three boys couldn’t help but blush, she sounded like bells.

“Come on now, there should be an empty dorm on our floor.” Epel said, gently grabbing Raven’s hand, tugging her towards the staircase.

“Tch! Fool.” Vil scoffed. “This girl is the descendant of the Beautiful Queen; she can not just stay in a common dorm!”

“That is true, but where else should she stay, Vil? Pomefiore is quite packed.” Rook pointed out.

“There are two rooms for dorm leaders, I use the second as a staging room for my photos, Princess Raven-”

“Just Raven is fine”

“can stay there, I would never put the daughter of the Beautiful Queen in some commoners dorm!” Epel swallowed a scowl.

“If you could follow me, Princess, I can show you where you shall be staying” He turned on his heel at the other boys, he clapped getting everyone’s attention “Louis, Benard, Trachov-” they snapped off their seats and quickly came to Vil’s side.

“-Rook and Epel, you all will help move my equipment.” Raven was frozen for a moment, as the three boys from the lounge stood before her and bowed. Her greetings evaporated in her mouth.

“It is a delight to be in your presence” The first boy said.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Sorry to be blunt, but you’re beautiful.” The second smiled in a charming way.

“Oh! Uh- thank you.”

“It’s an honor to have you in our dorm.” The third boy pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“It’s great to be here.” Raven quickly nodded back before following the group of boys up the stairs. She shied away from the curious stares of the other boys in the common room, how they had all perked when Vil had snapped at Epel, hungry for drama.

The room was much larger than expected, with a giant four-poster bed in the center left, while the far wall held a desk, a massive vanity, and a small dresser. On the right was a walk-in closet, and what looked like a private bathroom. Next to the door was a large marble fireplace, with a loveseat in front of it. It was a room that screamed ‘Vil was here!’.

Scattered around the room was photography equipment and make-up brushes, and many, many make-up palettes. Raven gasped a bit, in awe of the view through the windows. She could see over the woods for miles, all the way to the horizon.

“I apologize if it isn’t up to your standards, Princess Queen.” Vil spoke, bowing low at the waist

“Please, just, call me Raven. Where I’m from I’m not exactly considered noble.”

Raven laughed a little at the self-deprecating joke, leaving the boys stunned.

“Still, you are a direct descendant of the Beautiful Queen! You ought to be admired, revered even!” Vil was walking around, tidying up the room as he went, piling make-up palettes and brushes and styling tools into Rook’s arms who quickly shoved it to one of the other boys.

“Tell that to the kids at Ever After.” Raven scoffed, sitting on the edge of the bed, it was comfy, too much lace though. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here? Is there, like, a village square or a mall or something?”

“Could you sit up Miss Raven?” The first boy from earlier said.

“We’re trying to remove the sheets.” The second explained. Raven turned to the two students.

“Oh really, no it’s fine!”

“I asked them to,” Vil responded, noticing her dislike for lace. “continue as you were, please” he muttered something to the boy next to him.

“So anyways... if I was at home, I would be getting ready for Thronecoming, decorating my float for the parade, getting my dress tailored for the party Briar would be throwing…I really hope Maddie is okay.” she said, sitting back down on the newly changed covers.

“Pri- Raven, what’s a ‘Thronecoming’?” Epel asked, placing a light outside for someone else.

“Thronecoming is a huge parade held every year a week after Legacy Day. Each student gets to decorate a float for a parade, and that night we have a huge party. It’s the kick-off of the school year.”

“And ‘Legacy Day’?” Rook asked, still holding a teetering pile of beauty supplies, as the third boy struggled with the same task.

“That’s…complicated.” Raven sighed, flopping back onto the bed. “See, Ever After High is a school hex-clusively for the children of fairy tale beings, from prince charmings to wicked witches.” Everyone in the room was now listening, a few passer-by's stopping to investigate. “Every student, in their second year, signs what we call ‘The Storybook of Legends’. Once you sign, you’re magically fated to follow the path of your ancestors in life, be it eating a poison apple or sleeping a hundred years”

‘how dreadful’

‘eating a poisoned apple doesn’t sound bad, I’ve had quite a few’

“Louis, mind sharing your thoughts? You look distracted”

“Oh no, not at all. Deepest apologies for my offence, Princess”

“Really- it’s fine,” Raven sighed, I'm never gonna get used to this “Princess” spiel.

“My mother’s line is that of the Evil Queen from Snow White’s tale. A lot of people think that since it’s my supposed to be my destiny to poison my best friend and marry this- guy! He's so- old. But…I didn’t sign. The complicated part is, the Headmaster of Ever After High, Headmaster Grimm, told me that if I didn’t sign the book, everyone involved in the Snow White story would disappear from existence.”

She stood up, furious.

“And, well, I obviously didn’t!” Raven puffed out her cheeks, before hissing out air like a leaking tire.

“That’s…a lot to put on a sixteen-year-old.” Epel muttered.

“Fourteen.”

“What was that, Raven?” Rook asked.

“I’m fourteen. My birthday was a few days before school started. I was castle-schooled for most of my life, so I got to skip two grades. All the make-up and heels makes me look older.” Rook shot Epel a bewildered look. This girl was fourteen, and had almost been married to a man in his- what? fifties? That was…repulsive!

“Well, you’re safe here with us, Raven!” Rook chirped, everyone followed.

“You can expect nothing less from us!”

“Trachov, the boxes.” Vil snapped.

“Apologies, Vil.” So, he was Trachov, the last one is Benard then.

“Indeed. One so lovely as you are, deserves only gold! After all, beauty holds power.” Vil sniffed, checking his eye makeup in the vanity (it was flawless, as always).

“Thanks, but I’m really nothing special” Raven blustered, cheeks painted red.

“Nonsense!” Vil snapped. “You have a fair complexion, a flawless facial structure, full lips that look to be naturally red, unique coloured, large eyes, and you’re petite enough to be considered cute.” Raven looked at the other students, they seemed to agree “Add all that together and you truly look like a doll, Raven dear. Now, we need to introduce you to the rest of Pomefiore, and let them ask their questions so that they keep their hands off you tomorrow, you would not want them intruding in your studies”.

Benard- she thinks that’s right- arrived back in the room with a plate of cookies, he handed them over to Vil before leaning against the wall with Louis and Trachov.

“Remember to restrain yourself, usually I only allow confection sparingly but, I can make an exception for you”

Raven nodded and munched into them, it was simple but very tasty.

“Thank you, Benard- Oh they left”

“Vil asked them to get the Pomefiore students,” Raven jumped at the presence of Epel next to her, then she noticed him eyeing her plate of cookies.

“You can have them.”

“Really?!”

“Epel, the noise” Epel turned to Rook with a look, accepting Raven’s plate.

“And just so you know, Benard’s his last name, same with the other two”

Just when it seemed to get quiet, Raven saw the three who left sprint past the door screaming all sorts of profanity and laughing their lungs out.

“Quiet down out there!” Vil snatched up his jacket and chased after the boys.

Then, it dawned on Raven. they treated her differently, was going to be Ever After High all over again? small tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“Oh mademoiselle,” Rook saddled to her side, cupping her cheeks, “There is no need for tears.” Epel sat down by her side.

“Pomefiore can sometimes be hectic, so don’t worry.” The shorter boy reassured her.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just-” She sniffled a little, trying to stay calm. “I just want to be normal, treated normally.”

“If that is what you want,” They gasped, Vil was already back. “then tell them. You are a part of us too” He joined Raven, Epel moving out of the way, “You have what it takes, and you will do what it takes” They stood up, Raven’s eyes glinted.

“Why else are you here?” a small hug, among the four of them.

“Rook, Epel, go down with everyone else. I need to touch up Raven’s makeup. Your mascara is smeared, dear.” Rook and Epel left, and Vil guided Raven to sit in front of the vanity. From his pockets he withdrew a small pack of makeup wipes and gently stripped off her old mascara, before having her close her eyes and applying a new coat.

“There we are. Now, if you’ll follow me, Raven. Our audience awaits!” Vil clapped with a dramatic flourish, and Raven couldn’t help but giggle. Maybe being stuck here wouldn’t be so bad after all… in fact, it was going to be great.

@sayuricorner @keiwahikari

#ever after high #ever after high salt #twisted wonderland crossover #salt #writing prompt

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tsuyoiqueen · 4 years ago

Text

shout it from the rooftops (tell them all I know) — teen!wangxian

Okay, so first of all, happy new year! I don't know if it's already January 1st where you are but as I'm posting this it's 10 P.M. so let it be said that I finished it before 2021 and will be calling this my last fic of 2020!

This is also the second fic I write for this fandom, so if you're coming from Be My Husband, thank you so much for your support! It means a lot and I hope you like this one as well!

At first, it's not a big deal. Lan Wangji couldn't describe the situation as anything but boring.

He wasn't naive. He knew wandering through Cloud Recesses past curfew and bringing alcohol were not the only rules Wei Wuxian would break. He could tell by the look in his eyes back when they first met. Though, Lan Wangji did give him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he'd wait at least a week to resume his shenanigans.

He was proven wrong and realized there was no limit to that thick faced guy when he caught him drinking with his brother and his friend. He had to keep an eye on him, or the next months would result in more headaches. It was bad enough he had to punish himself after letting his guard down around Wei Wuxian, the first cultivator who seemed to be on his level.

(He would never admit it out loud, but it's true, and maybe part of the reason why he remained tolerant)

—

That night, Lan Wangji left his house an hour before curfew. He ducked behind one of the trees close to the guest disciples' quarters and guarded the place. If getting lectured by the grandmaster didn't stop Wei Wuxian, facing punishment would have even less effect.

An hour goes past and then two, and he wonders if he's exaggerating, the shame in breaking a rule to prevent the dishonor of his clan's motto finally starts taking a toll. Confused, he slowly steps out from his hiding spot, but as soon as he starts walking towards the jingshi, he's startled into action by a noise coming from his left.

It's faint and not enough to put anyone on alert, but Lan Wangji is no ordinary cultivator. He's sharp and wouldn't miss the slightest disruption, so he retreats and heightens his senses, even though it isn't necessary.

A tall figure emerges from one of the guest rooms, sneaking towards the main hall. As the stranger walks, dark hair flutters in the wind, his clothes ripple. When he comes closer, Lan Wangji recognizes the white robe meant for the guest disciples. The person smiles as if he's just hit the jackpot, and though he's still far, Lan Wangji can identify the bottle in one of his hands while the other carries a sword.

He narrows his eyes, gripping Bichen even harder. Wei Wuxian!

Although he's already found the troublemaker, Lan Wangji stands still and waits. Wei Wuxian looks from side to side to make sure he's alone and leaps the rooftop.

The same one from the first night, Lan Wangji notices and feels slightly intrigued about it.

Why would Wei Wuxian come back to the place where he's been caught if he could do it far from Gusulan's scrutiny and in the safety of his quarters? It's not like he knew Lan Wangji was planning to watch him closely. As dedicated as second master Lan was, he would never barge into his room in the middle of the night. The last thing he needed was Wei Wuxian thinking he's been stalking him.

He is not!

He ends up spacing out and barely realizes Wei Wuxian's already comfortably sat on the roof, savoring what he knew to be a drink called Emperor's Smile. Wei Wuxian loves it.

He seems so carefree, Lan Wangji can only furrow his eyebrows, wondering what would be the best way to approach him.

He shakes his head and dismisses that thought immediately. Why should he worry about that? He's there to bring Wei Wuxian to his uncle and make him confess he's breaking the rules, not chat him up!

Drinking and leaving your quarters past curfew are violations of Lan clan principles. Come with me and face punishment. He mentally rehearses, regardless of his previous thoughts.

He heads for the roof, floating calmly, and stares coldly at Wei Wuxian after landing. "Drinking and leaving your quarters past curfew are violations of Lan clan principles. Come with me and face punishment."

Wei Wuxian's so shocked he almost drops the bottle, frowning while he balances his drink in one hand and uses the other to pat his chest, like he's soothing his heart, "Aiya, Lan Zhan! You surprised me! That was good! You almost made me drop my drink again! Though we wouldn't want that, right? After all, you still haven't paid for that first one."

Lan Wangji had been straightforward and clear, but Wei Wuxian hasn't shown any signs of guilt. Perhaps, he should try again, "You are breaking two rules right now. I ask you to follow me."

For some reason, Wei Wuxian laughs, "Have mercy! Don't you think I've been punished enough after all those lashes?" He pouts. Lan Wangji can't avert his eyes for a moment.

Wei Wuxian takes his reaction as pity and rubs his back to remind him of the pain he felt. Lan Wangji isn't the kind to forget easily, but the gesture reminds him of the time spent with the other male at the Cold Pond. A shirtless Wei Wuxian asking Lan Wangji to be his friend flashes through his eyes, and he swallows.

Wei Wuxian doesn't hide how knowing Lan Wangji isn't a complete fuddy-duddy brings him joy, grinning mischievously. He decides to press on, "Lan Zhan, how about this, why don't you drink with me tonight? If you don't want to, you can just keep me company. We're both already breaking curfew."

Lan Wangji realizes his mistake, and his aloof demeanor falters. How can he lecture Wei Wuxian if he's also in the wrong? His ancestors would be ashamed! People who think they can do as they please and expect others to follow their rules are not qualified for the title of Gusulan disciple!

Wordless, he grips Bichen tighter and spins in his heels to go back to his room and sleep immediately. In the morning, he will confess, be punished, and stop minding Wei Wuxian's antics. If being improper is the price to rectify him, he would rather not get involved at all.

He almost leaps away from the roof when an unknown warmth spreads throughout his hand. Dumbfounded, he looks down at his arm, looking for the source of the heat, and he sees it.

He sees Wei Wuxian's hand wrapped around his own, his long fingers clutching Lan Wangji's palm. It'd be easy to free himself or unsheath Bichen and fly back to the ground, but he's unable to move then.

It's embarrassing if said out loud, but it's the first time someone other than his older brother ever holds his hand.

As the meaning of Lan Wangji's own sword's name says, he avoids worldly matters. He doesn't worry about trivialities, such as social interactions or physical contact. Polite as he is, he chooses to greet others with a graceful nod that they always return in kind. No one had ever dared to touch him without permission.

But Wei Wuxian had already proven himself as unordinary, so it was a given that the rumors about how second master Lan was reserved and cold wouldn't affect him as much.

Wei Wuxian whispers, "Lan Zhan."

Lan Wangji lifts his head, analyzing the features of his companion thoroughly. Wei Wuxian tugs on his hand, and he assumes he wouldn't let go until he agrees to stay.

It's rash, wrong, and his uncle would come close to qi-deviate if he could see him right now, but Lan Wangji delicately lowers himself and sits cross-legged on the roof.

"..." Wei Wuxian gapes at him, and something inside Lan Wangji melts as he realizes he's astonished. Wei Wuxian's so caught off guard only then he realizes he's still holding his hand, slowly letting go. "Oh, sorry about that, Lan Zhan."

"Mn." Lan Wangji replies, nodding. It's odd how sometimes he shows no signs of concern in bothering Lan Wangji and even so apologizes for meaningless stuff that wouldn't disturb others.

Wei Wuxian's eyes brighten. It's the first time Lan Wangji talked to him without disapproval in his voice.

Wei Wuxian giggles, "I knew you weren't that mean, Lan Zhan! Reconsidering my friendship proposal, huh? Nothing strengthens a relationship like sharing a drink!"

Lan Wangji doesn't say anything, but Wei Wuxian doesn't feel discouraged, "That day when you got punished with me, your uncle looked pissed off. It's hard to read your expression because you always seem bored or annoyed, but that's just your face, right? You must've been sad after being scolded, should've just listened to me and let that night be our secret. No one would get punished."

Lan Wangji wasn't expecting that topic, so he takes a moment to gather his thoughts, expression unfazed, "It is my duty."

Wei Wuxian takes a long sip of his drink and scoffs, "And couldn't you take a day off or something? I didn't know you were Gusulan rules supervisor." He shakes his head, letting out a sound that Lan Wangji understands as disapproval.

A minute passes where none of them say anything but Wei Wuxian doesn't seem to take more than that, "That's why I invited you. You were around past curfew because you thought I'd cause trouble, right?" He doesn't need to answer. "I knew as soon as you realized you're breaking a rule, you'd drag me with you and ask for punishment, but wouldn't that make your uncle angrier? Would you be okay, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji was not expecting that, "..."

Wei Wuxian rambles on, "Back at Lotus Pier, I'm always getting punished." He takes another sip, staring intently at the bottle. "Madam Yu doesn't like me, so she finds any reason to make me kneel in the ancestral hall. It's not like I enjoy getting scolded or driving her nuts, but I'm not the kind of person who can follow the rules all the time. That's just who I am, you know?"

Lan Wangji doesn't know. Wei Wuxian is his opposite in almost every way. Even so, he seems to be waiting for some kind of confirmation, so he nods, "Mn."

Wei Wuxian smiles, the hairs escaping from his red ribbon flow around his face basked in moonlight. Lan Wangji stares.

"I mean to say I kinda get it why you act like this. You don't wanna let your uncle down. You want him to be proud of you, right? I also want to be someone uncle Jiang can take pride in, but I can't change my whole personality for that. He never showed any signs of wanting me to do so either, only asked me to follow the clan's motto: attempt the impossible!"

Lan Wangji likes YunmengJiang's free spirit, and he's glad Wei Wuxian understands somehow.

"Lan Zhan, what's the Lan clan motto?"

Lan Wangji feels his gaze, "Be righteous."

The laugh that comes out of Wei Wuxian could wake up half of the guest disciples if they weren't so far from their quarters. Lan Wangji frowns while Wei Wuxian keeps laughing until he has to wipe tears from his eyes when he's out of breath.

He leaves the empty bottle aside, lifts one of his legs, and lays his head on his knee, staring directly at Lan Wangji, a smile playing on his lips, "It suits you."

Lan Wangji can feel his ears burning, "Mn."

[Read the rest on AO3]

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