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rdxmption · 1 month ago

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Questions. | MXK

SUMMARY:

“What are we, Aurelius?” said the boy, who held back the unshed tears in his eyes. “..Something.” said the other, who was filled with guilt.

OC IN THIS STORY: MYOHU AURELIUS & KENTO VAINZEN.

Several months have passed since Myohu ended his relationship with his best friend. Since then, both have lived largely solitary lives, with particular loneliness experienced by the one most affected by the breakup.

Kento dedicated his life to pondering all the things he did incorrectly, he did it all. He attempted to move forward, but the memories persisted in his thoughts. However, his butler and other residents of the house offered him reassurance, assuring him that things would improve soon, but he couldn't help feeling like their words were all just empty lies.

Myohu, in contrast, lived his life in solitude. Since moving out of his parent's home, he has been making a living by working part-time. His warm smile masked a deep sadness, he was adored by everyone at work. He was pleasant, benevolent, and hospitable towards the guests. Nevertheless, he found himself in his own house, lying in bed all by himself, consumed by feelings of guilt.

While sitting in his room, Kento quietly read a book to himself. Seeking to escape from memories, a little bird landed on his windowsill. With a letter held in its mouth, he looked up from the pages of the book he was reading. He squinted inquisitively, then rolled his eyes. Opening the window, he grabbed the paper. He unraveled it, just to discover the handwriting he recognized. The haunting memories made his eyes widen, as he scattered his gaze to read the memo:

“Beloved Vainzen, I understand you're hesitant to receive something from me, but please give me just one opportunity. I've sent this letter to the little birdie, hoping to see you up the hill, where I last caught sight of your gaze. I won't reveal the timing, you inform me instead. Respond to the bird promptly upon receiving this letter. Inform me of the timing, and I will arrive. I simply want to check in on how you've been over the last couple of months. Best regards, Aurelius.”

As Kento gazed at the bird perched peacefully on his windowsill, he could sense the anger growing inside him from the letter he had received. He let out a sigh while softly caressing the bird with his slender, calloused fingers. "What does he believe his identity to be?" Is it worth leaving me for months just to send a letter? Pathetic.." Kento addressed the bird, but let out another sigh. He muttered, "Fine.. I'll provide him with an opportunity. Myohu, damn you, I was beginning to let go.."

Kento couldn't help but wonder what would transpire in their brief moment together as he penned his response. The bird waited calmly for a response, making only the sounds of his gentle breathing and pen writing. He hesitated in the middle of his sentence and couldn't help but grasp the pen tighter, he held solemnly—his heart full of regret and wrath. He stopped himself from crying and carried on with his letter. Not too long afterward, he completed the letter. He carefully folded it and let the bird take it, watching as it took off into the distance.

Myohu was engaged in his homework at that moment. Despite his part-time job, he manages to allocate time for his academic responsibilities. As a bird settled on his windowsill, his ocean-blue eyes were drawn to the grey-feathered creature. A faint smile appeared on his face, accompanied by a soft sigh. He murmured, "I anticipated your response, Kento." Bringing the paper inside, Myohu began to read the words of his long-time companion.

“You certainly have a talent for provoking me, do you not? I am granting you an opportunity; you must be at the hill by 00:XX PM. That is all. I trust this will not be a waste of my time, Aurelius. Vainzen.”

Myohu emitted a soft laugh, picturing how Kento would have articulated this in a tangible way. His voice would have been infused with disgust and fury, but despite the smile gracing his lips, his eyes were filled with a whirlwind of emotions. It felt as if his heart raced with an overwhelming desire to reunite with the one he had lost so long ago.

"What does your beauty look like once more?" he softly inquired, his eyes locked on the sun as it sank below the horizon.

As time continued to flow, Kento found himself standing beneath the tree. He reflected on its transformation from a mere sapling to a robust entity, feeling as though it had grown alongside him and Myohu. Amidst his thoughts, he detected the sound of soft footsteps approaching. His crimson eyes shifted to the ginger-haired boy, whose face bore an insincere smile that Kento recognized all too well.

"You are late," Kento remarked, prompting a chuckle from Myohu as he halted in front of him, crossing his arms in a display of amusement. "I’m only five minutes late—"

"Much like how you were late to comprehend the impact of your actions on me," Kento interjected, his gaze sharpening. He pondered the purpose of their meeting: were they here to reminisce, or was another argument on the horizon?

Myohu's smile vanished abruptly upon witnessing the fury etched on Kento's face. A wave of sorrow washed over him, and he clenched his fists tightly within his pockets, fully aware that he was the reason for their estrangement. "Kento, I—" "My actions have affected me as well, I assure you."

His voice trembled, yet his breathing remained steady. As he cast his gaze downward, all he could perceive in Kento's eyes was an overwhelming rage. In a moment of impulsiveness, Kento struck his own face, a reaction that surprised even him.

"How can you possibly make such a claim? You promise?! You abandoned me! How can you assert that it has impacted you when it is evidently your fault, Aurelius?!" Kento erupted, causing Myohu's eyes to widen in shock. Slowly, he turned to see Kento's cheeks stained with tears, intensifying his feelings of guilt. He felt a deep sense of remorse.

"Kento, I understand that this is a lot for you to handle—"

"Indeed! It is a lot for me to handle; you were gone for months. It felt like an eternity."

As silence enveloped them, an unsettling chill permeated the air. The trees danced in the wind, and Myohu bit his lip, struggling to articulate his thoughts. However, no words emerged; only the sound of his heart pounding in uncertainty filled the void. Kento's tears continued to fall, and Myohu recognized that he bore the responsibility for this pain.

“What are we, Aurelius?” said the boy, who held back the unshed tears in his eyes. “..Something.” said the other, who was filled with guilt.

Kento chuckled softly, biting his lip in a moment of amusement. As he wiped away his tears with his sleeves, Myohu felt an overwhelming desire to pull him close and embrace the boy before him. However, he regrettably concluded that it was not the appropriate moment for such an action.

Kento let out a sigh, his gaze drifting toward the horizon as it gradually succumbed to the night. His crimson eyes met Myohu's oceanic ones. As the glimmer of hope and freedom faded, he uttered, "I knew this was futile; we were always destined to follow separate paths. Aurelius..."

Shortly thereafter, Kento turned away, making his descent down the hill along the same route that Myohu had taken on the day of his departure. Suddenly, Myohu seized his wrist and called out to him, his voice trembling with emotion, particularly guilt.

"Vainzen! Please... I am truly sorry. I had to leave; it is difficult to articulate, but I promise you! I swear by all that is sacred that it was equally challenging for me."

Kento contemplated granting him another chance, yet the weight of his anguish overwhelmed him, prompting him to pull his hand free and face forward. With his final words, he murmured, "Then you will understand how difficult it was for me to remain on the same hill where you abandoned me."

Kento ultimately continued on his way, fading into the distance. Myohu's hands fell slowly to his sides, his expression unchanged. A sorrowful frown emerged as he chose a different path down the hill.

They found themselves worlds apart, grappling with the nature of their relationship—were they merely friends or something more?

#angst #oneshot #oc fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 writer

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again.

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out.

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him.

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married.

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'.

It made you want to puke.

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared.

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth.

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him.

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby.

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!"

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him.

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out.

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line.

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault.

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him.

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you.

He didn’t even make it to the hospital.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free.

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder.

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default.

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars. Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better.

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink.

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences.

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.”

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt.

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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akaashiclub · 4 years ago

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girls chase boys ☇ t.k.

☇ pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

☇ genre: fluff, oc is an absolute babie who has no shame, tsukishima goes from ‘she’s annoying’ to ‘she’s aight’ to ‘i may be lowkey in love w her it’s nbd tho’, oc will literally not give up, tsukishima is still a first year (word count: 4.1k)

☇ synopsis: usually when experiencing such a soul-crushing rejection, one would give up on their feelings, right? right?

☇ a/n: i binge-read some haikyuu fanmanga and i was ~inspired~ plus like... this trope?? persistant bubbly x uninterested cold is?? literally everything?? (playlist link: here)

“i like you!!!”

you kind of felt like the main character of a shoujo, with the wind making your hair dance in the air

standing face to face with your longtime crush

(and by longtime, you mean about two months)

that’s when it all started

no— it was earlier

the orientation ceremony

all the first years standing in neat, organized rows, listening to the principal give a welcoming speech

at least, that’s what you were supposed to be doing

in reality, your eyes were trained on the 188cm tall blonde in the row in front of you

you couldn’t see the stage— also, you didn’t care

bc ~he~ was in front of you

tsukishima kei

you learned his name later when you discovered you were in the same class

and he sat in the adjacent row, one seat forward

the absolutely perfect position to stare at his side profile the entire class

and that is exactly what you did for two months

that and gathering info on him

tsukishima kei, 188.3cm (now 190.1), born on september 27th, best friends with yamaguchi tadashi, #11 on the karasuno volleyball team

and then there you were, confessing your undying love to him

...or something like that

“no thanks. not interested.”

usually, that would soul-crushing enough to make them leave him alone

not you <3

the giggle that escapes your lips makes his eyebrow twitch on confusion for a second

“that’s okay~” you respond.

(that’s okay ?)

(what the fuck kind of response is that being rejected ???)

(yours!!!!)

you’re exhaustingly persistent, as tsukishima comes to find out

or should i say—

“tsukki~!!”

the hair on his neck rises when you flounce into homeroom with that sing-song tone

you plop down into the seat in front of him (key note: not yours) and rest your elbows on his desk with a little grin

“don’t call me that,” (he doesn’t look up from his book)

“what~! why not?”

“only my friends call me 'tsukki’”

you snort, scooting a little closer

“that’s mean. how many times have we walked home together, and we still aren’t friends?”

“you followed me home, i didn’t consent.”

“‘followed you’?” you pout. “we live on the same road, naturally we’d walk home together,”

he doesn’t respond, just flips to the next page in his book

“do you have volleyball club today~?”

ignored.

lol

she stays strong!! she doesn’t give up in the face of adversity!!!

“you don’t have to answer, i already know you do.” you chirp. “it’s boring walking home without you... maybe i’ll come with you today~!”

it’s like talking to a wall

(a very cute, 190cm, blonde, glasses-wearing wall.)

(🥰)

instead of responding, he puts his headphones on and keeps reading

a small exhale escapes your lips, and one of the girls in the next row over leans towards you

“y/n... i think it’s a lost cause...”

“he’ll come around eventually,” you shoot her a smile, and then turn back to tsukki

you lean forward, reaching towards his head and tugging the headphones down around his neck

and when he looks up (he does within an instant), you shoot him a sly smile

several students around you gasp

after all, who would dare bother tsukishima with his headphones on??? that’s some instant death shit

“move.”

“i like being this close to you though,” you tease

and he rolls his eyes, standing up and heading for the exit of the classroom

the shock in the classroom — that you’re still ALIVE — is clear

your friend from before gapes

“y-y/n what are you playing at??”

“courtship,” you sigh dramatically, and hop to your feet to chase after the blonde monster

“tsukki~!! are you getting lunch?? wait for me~!!”

everyone on the first floor knows: it’s become the norm to see tsukishima, book in hand, headphones around neck, and followed by a chirpy pipsqueak

even yamaguchi doesn’t stick as closely to him as ‘tsukishima’s lapdog’ (as you’ve started being called by the fellow first years) does

the nickname doesn’t really bother you

after all, it’s just a reminder of your determination and refusal to give up

which is a virtue, in your mind!!

some people feel bad for tsukishima, constantly being bothered by you for weeks on end

others admire your stubbornness

and one group of people you can always count on supporting you are the karasuno volleyball club <3

ever since you started showing up to their practices

and all their practice matches and official games too

they all befriended you

but you grew tired of just sitting and watching tsukki on the sidelines, so you asked coach ukai if you could help out during practices!!!

there can’t rly be ... three managers... so you suggested retrieving balls or being tsukki’s personal assistant

he saw right through you <3

but it’s ok bc he thought it would be entertaining and agreed

tsukki: angy

even when he’s annoyed he’s cute tho <33 and you make sure to tell him that <333

and so! you get tsukki’s water, towels, etc etc (ofc u help other ppl too when they need it but tht’s what the two managers r for... tsukki is ur #1)

the other players are like 0.0 she’s kinda scary... but cute at the same time doe...

one day you’re in a particularly good mood (aka: a bad day for tsukki lol)

“tsukki~!”

“don’t call me that.”

“i want to tell you something,”

the whole gym is kinda just 👁️👄👁️ waiting to see what happens

“what? i need to change, hurry it up.”

ur inner monologue: kdNNN even when he’s mean he’s cute!!!!

but anyways:

“i like you,”

hinata, kageyama, tanaka, noya, literally everyone: 😳😨 mf what—

sugawara’s like “oh god he’s just reject her and crush her heart... right in front of EVERYONE—”

“not interested.” tsukki says, and his tone isn’t any less cold than usual

u kno that anime lightning effect when the character’s body is joLtED...

tht’s everyone else in the gym

tanaka and nishinoya are highkey ready to let you cry into their jerseys when—

you laugh

you right after being mercilessly rejected: 🥰

you can’t help it !!!!! it’s not discouraging you ok??? you alr knew what he’d say!!! but you had to tell him <3 can’t let him forget tht he’s the ✨love of your life✨

entire gym: s h o o k

“did she just l a u g h??”

“is she okay?? no srsly”

“what... just happened”

tsukki walks off, water bottle in hand

you follow after him, bouncing on the soles of your feet

“don’t forget your towel~! want me to wipe off your sweat~?”

“no thanks.”

cue fading banter between you two as he goes to change his clothes

he has to be like hOe GeT oUT for you to not go into the locker room lmfao damn... thirsty bitch... same tho

later tanaka and noya (feat. hinata who just wants to be included) jump tsukki

“shE LAUGHED WHEN U REJECTED HER??? IS SHE OK???”

“she confesses to me every week. she’ll do it again. it’s not that big of a deal.”

“not thAT BIG— can u imagine if kiyoko liked us that much.... ”

(cue tanaka sobbing)

tsukki was right tho

after the third time you randomly confessed to him in front of them they were just like

same shit different day, anyways rolling thunder

but they still highkey adopted you

so they go grr grr when tsukki rejects you all cold and shit

shockingly tho??? the more you confess the less it’s “not interested” and more just “*sigh*”

is this... PROGRESS???

but the zero braincell triad cornered him again in the locker room one day

(it’s their trademark)

(nishinoya) “so why do you keep rejecting her??”

(hinata popping in) “yea she’s super dedicated and helpful!!!”

(tanaka lowkey shuddering) “she’d probably let herself get hit in the face w a volleyball if u asked”

(and tanaka would be: correct)

(but anyway)

“she was annoying,”

“she... ‘was’ annoying???”

“... she IS annoying”

“tsukki... do you possibly like her??? but you’ve gotten so used to rejecting her that it’s automatic now??”

tsukki’s like V.V

“you’re reading too much into it,”

sage!nishinoya is about to probe deeper but at that moment you pop your head around the corner of the locker room and shout

“tSUKKI~!!!”

and they all scatter to hide themselves while shrieking

except tsukki, who is already clothed and gives zero fucks lmao

but anyways!!! a couple weeks pass and takeda got y’all set up with a practice match !!

with who?? nekoma!!!

hinata is like 🤩🤩 kENMA!!

only players and members of the club are supposed to go rly....

but you’re like “??? i’m tsukki’s personal assistant are you trying to take away my rights??? i’ll sue you” and coach ukai gives in sdjfkf

“tsukki can i sit with you~?”

yamaguchi about to sit there: 👁️👄👁️ bruh

tsukki doesn’t say yes but he also doesn’t say no :D

“what’re you reading?”

“english book,”

you’re like: wait— mf hold up... did he actually just answer ??

tsukki simp mode: ACTIVATED

“can i see??”

“you’re failing english, you won’t be able to read it.”

“ouch,” you pout, but there’s a small smile on your lips. “but how’d you know i was failing english?”

he doesn’t respond

“i guess it is unfair that i know everything about you and you don’t know anything about me...” you sigh

“you don’t know everything about me,” he retorts, still not looking up from his book

hehe~ gotcha

“oh? test me,” you grin, scooting closer to him

“don’t wanna.”

“you’re just scared i do know everything,” you say smugly, trying to bait him

“bet you don’t know everything about me!!!” hinata pops up from the seat in front of you

“you’re right, i don’t,”

(he pouts and disappears again)

“tsukki~” you whine. “tsukkiiiii~ i’m bored.”

“so?”

“can i wear your headphones?”

“no thanks. i don’t wanna get headlice.”

you scowl. “mean,”

you bite your cheek, staring a hole in the side of his head but he doesn’t even blink

if tsukki could major in ignoring you people, he’d have straight A’s

fortunately, you have ways to counter this

“kei~~” you whisper a little too close to his ear, and he jolts up

you try not to let the amusement show on your face, but you can’t help it

glaring at you, he pulls his headphones off his head and puts them on yours

“now be quiet,”

“mm~” you chuckle

a couple hours later, you pull into the parking lot of nekoma

the friend groups pair off, and kuroo makes a beeline for tsukki, only to catch sight of you

“hey four-eyes— who’s this?”

tsukki glances down at you, to which you shoot him a sugary smile

“dunno,” he says, and walks off

you wave to kuroo with a sunny grin

“i’m y/n~! i’m tsukki’s personal assistant and future wife~”

his eyebrows rise, and with a quick bow, you bounce after the blonde

once the group is all in the gym, practice jerseys are handed out and you help yachi and shimizu prepare the water and towels

you’re about to make a beeline for tsukki, when someone calling your name stops you

“y/n! wanna get me some water?” kuroo calls

you only blink for a moment before hopping to it, darting across the gym

for the rest of the day, kuroo is constantly calling for you—

“y/n! can you wipe the sweat off my neck?”

“hey, y/n, get me some water~”

“y/n!”

“y/n, over here!”

and by the time the several hours is over, you haven’t gotten to speak to tsukki once 🥺 snnff :(

when you finally get a free moment, you look around for him, but he’s nowhere to be found

sad face :(

and then !!!! turns out nekoma paid for bbq for everyone 🤩🤩 cats are so generous

and somehow??? you find yourself surrounded by nekoma players???

“here y/n, want some of my bbq?”

“no, take mine!!!”

“do you want any fruit?? i have some!!”

“you were so helpful today!! how’d you stay so energetic the whole time??”

you flash a smile, ready to charm the shit out of them, when a voice interrupts:

"hey, personal assistant.”

your eyes light up, bc you’d recognize that salty ass voice anywhere!!!

the guys around you part to reveal—

“tsukki!!!” you squeal, maybe a little too excitedly

“aren’t you supposed to be assisting me?? get me some food.”

you shove your plate into the free hand of one of the nekoma players (his name was... liam? lief... lev?) and dart to get tsukki something to eat

when you hand it to him, you flash him your most dazzling smile

“eat up! you worked hard today~”

he eyes you silently before digging in, and you smile absentmindedly while watching him

“why are you staring at me like that?”

“because i like you,” you respond without hesitation

he averts his eyes, but doesn’t say anything mean

your stomach flips a little

i’m coming for you, tsukishima kei.

on the ride home, you’re once again sitting next to him, and he gives up his headphones without a fight this time

you’re so tired from running around helping kuroo all day that you find your eyelids getting heavy as tsukki’s music plays in your ears

you try to subtly lean on his shoulder but he pokes you away

you glare at him, pouting, but settle for leaning against the headrest

and then, you’re drifting off

and you’re having a strange dream

a pleasant dream, with fuzzy corners and honey-colored light streaming across the scene, but still strange

in this dream, he’s kissing you

it’s not like you haven’t had dreams like this before, it’s just that this one feels so much more vivid

and yet blurry at the same time

even when the dream ends and you blink back into consciousness you can still distinctly feel his lips against yours

his glasses brushing against your cheek

his fingers interlacing with your hair

a warm smile curls up your lips as you grasp lingering wisps of the dream, when—

“you’re drooling.”

your eyes snap open and you jolt up, furiously wiping the side of your mouth

“am not!!”

tsukishima blinks uninterestedly from the empty bus aisle, arms crossed

“dreaming about something vulgar?”

you grin, resting your chin on your palm

“would you like to hear ab—?”

he’s just “nope,” and turns towards the exit

hopping out of the seat, you follow him

“it was such a nice dream,” you sigh

“must’ve been, if you were drooling that much.”

“i was not—”

and then you notice something

everyone else is already gone from the bus

“wait a minute... did you wait for me?”

you hear a scoff

bUt hE dOEsNt DeNy iT

“you WAITED for me!!!!” you exclaim, happiness radiating off you in waves

“if i’d left you on the bus, nishinoya and tanaka would’ve killed me if i didn’t,” he says curtly

but you are, after all, the human equivalent of ‘this sign can’t stop me because i can’t read’

or that tiktok trend

tsukishima: i don’t like you, i only waited for you because i was literally forced at gunpoint

y/n: 🎶i waited for you🎶

the next day, it’s practice as usual at the karasuno gym

but?? sniff sniff someone is here that shouldn’t be

this rando first year has been pacing around right outside the gym entrance

and all the vbc members are like 👁️ whomst?

and when you finally arrive (right along behind tsukki)

he yells out your name

and holds out a bouquet of flowers <3 how cute

“y/n, um— i, i know you don’t know me but i’ve liked you since the orientation ceremony!!! i think you’re really pretty and cute and smart—”

cue a quiet scoff from tsukki, “if she’s his definition of smart, then how dumb is he?”

cue sugawara jabbing his side (sugamama is protective of his child y/n)

“—and i know you like tsukishima, but i hope you’ll give me a chance!! i can make you happier than him!!”

at this point, everyone in the gym is watching like 👁️ oh?? TEA??

and is that... is that an aura of raging irritation coming from tsukishima??

you open your mouth to politely reject the guy, when

literally out of nowhere tsukki just a p p e a r s

“hey, idiot. aren’t you supposed to be my personal assistant?? go set out the volleyballs instead of flirting,”

you dip your head and smile apologetically at the guy before heading towards the store room

and after that, you notice tsukki is a bit harsher, a bit more off his game, a little more easily irritated than usual

during a free moment, you nudge tanaka

“doesn’t he seem like he’s in a bad mood??”

zero braincell tanaka is like “??? isn’t he always like that??”

“no... something is definitely off today...”

what . could it be . i wonder .

every time you try to do your usual “tsukki~!!” he just turns away and ignores you

doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary, but you can just tell something is wrong

you still have no idea why he’s acting like this by the time practice ends

and when you go to the locker room to find him (so y’all can walk home together), he’s already gone :(

so, a little more droopy than usual, you head out

only to be surprised by a voice when you step outside

“took you long enough,”

you whip around to see tsukki leaning against the wall with crossed arms

he clicks his tongue and then sets off

and when you don’t immediately follow him, he glances over his shoulder

“are you coming or not?”

sdjfksjsdkjfsdjf smmpdfhsdf !!!!!!!

it’s just one sentence, and it doesn’t really mean anything

but hearing the words makes something incredibly warm bloom in your chest

you grin

“of course i am,”

that feeling lasts well into the next morning, but is replaced by a nauseating knot in your stomach when you arrive at school

because everyone’s whispering about one thing:

“tsukishima got called to the principal’s office!!!”

“whaaat ! why??”

“i heard he was caught with the answers for the upcoming exam!!”

your stomach . clenches

and before anybody can say another word, you’re sweeping out the door and down the hall

and in less than 30 seconds, you’re slamming open the door to the principal’s office

the principal and tsukki both look up, equally shocked at your sudden appearance

“y/n, what��”

you ignore him for the first time in your life

“sir, i need to tell you something.”

the principal is just like “... ?? can it wait??”

“no, it can’t.” you take several steps forward “the test answers, they—”

“y/n, don’t—”

you ignore him for the second time in your life again

“they’re mine,”

the principal blinks

“then why was tsukishima found holding them before class??”

“yesterday, they must’ve fallen out of my backpack. he probably picked them up without knowing what they were, so please don’t punish him,” you bow. “punish me instead,”

.. y/n dumb bitch

yea, you’re suspended for two weeks

and ofc there’ll be a mark on your record

plus you’re automatically given a fail for the upcoming exam so you’ll have to retake it later oof....

but as much as all that sucks, you don’t regret it bc you’d rather take the fall than let tsukki be wrongly accused and suffer for it

but honestly the break from school is kinda vibes 🥴

don’t even think about the homework you’ll have to make up

your phone is blowing up with texts from your friends

including your surrogate dads and moms from the karasuno vbc 🤧 they’re so worried about you

you’re sad you have to miss practice for such a long time but... you don’t regret your decision

“y/n!!” your little sister knocks on your door “one of your classmates is here for you,”

“‘kay!!” you call back, checking the time

shidt bitch time flies when you’re watching anime alone in your bedroom

you hop up and open your bedroom door to come face to face with the one. the only. tsukishima kei

your eyes are like O.O

“tsukki??? what are you doing here??” you grin “are you here because you’re worr—”

“no,” he cuts you off “i’m here to deliver your homework,”

“you could’ve given it to my sister, y’know,” you tease. “why’d you come all the way to my bedroom?? you missed me, hm?”

he doesn’t answer, instead surveying the room before sitting down on the edge of your bed

you blink, surprised he didn’t comeback with a cold retort

“tsukki?” you ask quietly, sliding into your desk chair

after a moment of silence, he fixes you with a stoic gaze

“why’d you lie?”

“because... because i couldn’t let you take the blame for that. i don’t know what happened, but i know you weren’t cheating. i know it.”

“neither were you. what’s the difference?”

you press your lips together in a frustrated pout

“the difference is that it’s you!!! i’m mediocre. i’m not outstanding. i’ll go to an average college either way, and it’ll be fine. but you..! you’re so smart!! and talented!!! you could do anything you want!!! you could get into an elite college!! the last thing you need is for some stupid misunderstanding to sully your transcript—”

“y/n—” he tries to cut in, but you bulldoze right over him

“— and i know you probably think what i did was useless and unhelpful, but i don’t care!!! i don’t care about a mark on my transcript, or being suspended, or failing all my exams, or even being expelled—”

“y/n—”

“— but i absolutely refuse to let that happen to you!! you’re too special for—”

this time, it’s not him speaking that interrupts you

this time, it’s him kissing you

you nearly combust on the spot

tsukki— tsukishima kei is kissing you

he’s leaning over you, with one hand on the chair’s armrest and the other steadying your head with his fingertips

your stomach does several full somersaults

and then, all too quickly, he pulls away and returns to his spot on your bed

you stare, eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape

“w— what was— why did—”

“you wouldn’t stop talking,” he mutters, eyes focused a little too hard on the wall

for a moment, you’re too shocked to move

and then your 🥰tsukki🥰 mode activates

and you just fuckin LUNGE at him

“y/n??? what—!”

kisses!!! kisses on his cheeks!! his nose!!! his forehead!!!

and shockingly he doesn’t?? push you off??

me heart just skipped a beat wjdkfjs

he’s just like “y/n, you’re fogging up my glasses, please stop,”

“i refuse!!!! i’ve been waiting months to do this!!!!!”

once he manages to de-suction you from him, you fix him with doe eyes and a cheeky grin

“hey, tsukki??”

“.. what?”

“i like you,”

he blinks

adjusts his glasses

“make sure to finish that homework. i’m bringing tomorrow’s homework too,”

as he’s leaving, you hope he can feel your glowing smile on his back

the next day, you get a message from the school letting you know that your suspension and other punishments have been retracted

as the real culprit of the cheating was found

an unannounced locker-search discovered several exam cheatsheets almost exactly like the one tsukki found in the locker of a student, and the school realized their mistake <3 how nice of them

and that meant you were free to return to school, name cleared!!!

the volleyball club was eagerly awaiting your return

so when they saw tsukki arrive for practice, they expected you’d be following right along behind him

but instead???

you were koala-ing on his abdomen

“bro... did you carry her all the way here like that??”

“the real question is why he allowed it,”

you shoot a blinding grin at the guys

“he can at least do this much for his girlfriend~!”

the entire gym is like WhA T !!!!!

“hE SAID YES???”

“nope,”

“he... asked you out?? then??”

“also no...”

“did he at least tell you he liked you...?”

“...”

“NISHINOYA STOP SHE’S TEARING UP,” sugamama to the rescue

you let go of tsukki and half the team goes IN on him

“dude wtf!!! she got suspended for you and you didn’t even at least tell her you like her???”

“not just suspended, almost expelled!!!”

“yeah that!!!”

“i say we kill tsukki,”

“tanaka no,”

“GUYS!!” angry!daichi makes an appearance “it’s time for practice!!!”

grumbling, the team disperses

you’re about to head to the store room to help get out the practice equipment, when—

“y/n.”

you turn “hm?”

he’s silent for a moment

“i wouldn’t have kissed you if i didn’t like you.”

your face flushes a deep red

but then he adds, “either time.”

either...? time...?

W A I T

your eyes POP OUT

“that— that wasn’t a DREAM???”

he doesn’t answer, just heads onto the court

but you think you see a slight smirk

and maybe... just maybe??

his ears are a little more red than usual.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!!#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #reader x tsukishima #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fic #haikyuu au #au #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu imagine #tsukishima au #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei au #girls chase boys #fanfic

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ivarthebadbitch · 4 years ago

Text

Strange things can happen

Chapter 8 summary: Ivar fucks around and finds out.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 3468 (big chapter this time!)

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare (let me know if you would like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 8: And lead us not into temptation

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”

“Have your debts been forgiven, Father Wilfred?” the boy asked.

The priest looked up warily from his prayer book. He had been reluctant to teach Ivar again after their first lesson, but under pressure from Prince Aethelwulf and his daughter Aldreda, he had little choice but agree—on the condition that Ivar was not to touch any of his books ever again, let alone eat the pages. Everyone had felt that this was a reasonable request, and so lessons had resumed.

Father Wilfred cleared his throat and continued the prayer. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.” He crossed himself and frowned at Ivar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boy raised his eyebrows. He reached out, grabbed at the priest’s sleeve, and poked his finger through a hole in the fabric just below his wrist. “I think you do,” he said slyly. “I heard you had a problem with your debts, Father Wilfred. As a matter of fact, I heard you stole from the church.” He clicked his tongue. “I can help you.”

Father Wilfred scoffed and pulled away. How in God’s name had the boy heard about that? “I doubt that very much. I sinned, but the king has been gracious.”

“Of course,” Ivar nodded. “And I am sure you have done nothing since then that would cause him to regret his decision to show you mercy.”

He dabbed at the small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was a bluff, surely. There was absolutely no way that this boy could know that, in a moment of weakness about a month ago, he had taken a small silver bowl that had been carelessly left out on the altar after mass. Although Ecbert had pardoned him before, he wasn’t the only individual to whom he still owed money, and those others were not so forgiving. But Ivar didn’t know about that. Or did he?

He swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

Ivar leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I want you to help me escape this place and return home to Kattegat. I promise you that the reward will make it worthwhile.”

Father Wilfred stared at him. To meddle with the family of the king bordered on treason, and was a far worse crime than stealing or gambling. As the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar would no doubt be fine if they were caught conspiring, but Father Wilfred certainly could not plead for leniency on the basis of maintaining important diplomatic ties. His head would be on a stake in the courtyard in hours.

His jaw twitched. “How much can you give me in return?”

Ivar told him, and his eyes widened. With that amount, he could pay off his most demanding creditors and still have enough left over to leave Wessex and begin a new life somewhere else, far from Ecbert’s reach—assuming, of course, that Ivar could actually deliver what he was promising, which was no certain thing. It was reckless and risky. But it was a way out. Perhaps God had provided for him after all.

“Is it enough?” Ivar asked nervously. For a brief moment, Father Wilfred could see the desperation in his eyes. If he didn’t agree, then the boy had told him his conspiracy for nothing. And given their first encounter, it gave him some small amount of satisfaction to watch him sweat.

“It is,” he said at last, and watched Ivar breathe a small sigh of relief.

The boy stuck out his hand and after a moment and against his better judgment, Father Wilfred reached out and shook it. “So it’s agreed, then?”

God, he was absolutely going to regret this. “Agreed.”

***

Ivar dedicated the next two weeks to reconnaissance while Father Wilfred arranged his transportation to the nearest port and secured his spot on a boat home. He worked out the schedule of the guards that were assigned to patrol the hallway during the night. He found a suitable location to meet the priest for when he made his escape. He discovered that the gates to the villa were usually closed at sunset, except for the nights before and after a feast for one of the many Christian saints. On those nights, it was normal for carts full of food and drink to arrive and depart at all hours, and the guards tended to be more lax in their inspections. Lucky for him, one such feast was fast approaching.

The Feasts of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, as Aldreda explained to him with probably more patience than he deserved, commemorated the martyrdom of the two apostles. The main thing he took away from the whole story was that Christians had some sort of unhealthy fixation on crucifixion. Aldreda gave him a little smack on the shoulder when he told her this, but she didn’t exactly deny it.

Since their trip to Mercia, she had been more relaxed around him and wasn’t going out of her way to avoid him any longer. By the gods, she had even kissed him. To his profound relief, nothing had happened after that and she hadn’t pressed him on it. Not that he wasn’t interested—even though she didn’t look much like the usual type of woman he liked, he found her attractive enough in her own way—but the prospect of trying and failing with a woman once again terrified him. It wasn’t even important if nobody else ever found out. He would know and she would know for certain that he wasn’t really a man, not in the way that mattered.

At any rate, he would be gone soon and then it really wouldn’t matter. He just had to sit through an exceptionally long and boring mass first. He was too on edge to nod off to sleep as he usually did during these things, so he ended up fidgeting and shuffling around in his seat until Aldreda inevitably jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

“Ow,” he whispered, pretending she had hurt him more than she actually had. She rolled her eyes and he grinned back.

Finally, after an eternity of listening to the archbishop blather on in Latin and watching everyone else in the room but him go up to the altar to eat the bread god, it was time for the actual feast. The guards carried him to the main hall, which had been fully transformed for the banquet. The first dishes had been brought out by the servants and the wine was already flowing by the time he settled into his usual place at Aldreda’s side at the highest table, which was reserved for Ecbert’s family. Ecbert stood up and clapped his hands, gave a mercifully short blessing, and the feast began in earnest.

Ivar cast his gaze around the hall in what he hoped was a casual manner, until he finally spotted Father Wilfred on the far side of the room. When he caught the priest’s eye, he gave him a cheerful little wave. Father Wilfred immediately looked away. As long as the miserable little priest wasn’t planning to betray him, that was fine. Now it was time to set the next part of his plan in motion.

A servant came by with a wine jug, and he held out his cup. After the girl had filled his cup, he gestured for her to fill Aldreda’s next. “To my wife,” he said, and clinked his cup against hers. Aldreda blushed and took a long sip.

He made sure to keep her cup full throughout the feast. Though she was not a particularly small woman, she was no match for him when it came to holding her liquor. She soon grew tipsy and then somewhat more than tipsy. By the point she nearly fell backwards out of her chair, he decided he had gone far enough. The banquet was winding down anyway; the hall was already half empty and the servants were busy carting empty platters back to the kitchen and mopping up spilled food and drink.

With a word to the ever-present guards, one man draped Ivar’s arm across his shoulder and levered him up while the other offered Aldreda a hand and steadied her when she stumbled. Ivar felt a sudden surge of frustration as he watched. He was her husband and that was supposed to be his job, if only...

“Ivar?” Aldreda asked him woozily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “Let’s go to bed.”

They finally made their way back to their room, albeit more slowly than usual. Aldreda stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily beside him, hiccuping and then giggling at her own hiccups. She fumbled a little while undoing the buttons on the front of her dress, and Ivar waved away the servant who stepped forward to help her. “You can leave us,” he said. “I’ll take care of her.”

Once the servant was gone, he took over the task of helping her out of her dress, letting down her hair, and unclasping her necklace. “I don’t know why, but I think you wanted to get me drunk tonight,” she accused him, words slurring together. She giggled again and bunched the fabric of her shift between her fingers. “Are you trying to seduce me? Do you think that if you give a lady enough wine, you can get her to do whatever you want?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, unable to stop himself from blushing. He hoped he could hide her necklace before she noticed, but she stood up, crossed the room on unsteady feet, and dropped it on top of the dressing table where she usually kept it. Then she plopped back down on the bed and watched as he undressed. For the first time in weeks, he suddenly felt shy around her.

“You could try, if you want,” she said. “To seduce me, I mean. I wouldn’t mind. We’re married, after all.”

“You’re drunk,” he told her bluntly as he set aside his shirt. He didn’t think she was mocking him, but he couldn’t quite believe she actually meant it either. At any rate, her timing couldn’t have been worse. “And you know I can’t do that.”

His words came out more harshly than he had intended, and she winced. “I meant no offense,” she said.

He sighed. “I know you didn’t.”

They didn’t talk after that. Aldreda turned on her side, facing away from him. Before long, he heard her breathing grow slow and steady. He lay on his back, wide awake, and watched the shadows move across the ceiling. There was nothing he could do now except wait until Father Wilfred was ready for him, but his mind was already racing ahead to the next thing. By evening the next day, he would be on a boat headed home. He could already picture the approach to Kattegat and the curious crowd gathered on the dock, with his parents and brothers at the front waiting for him...

The bells rang. It was exactly one hour after midnight. With his heart thumping in his chest, Ivar slid out of bed as quietly as he could and started to get dressed. Usually, he would just scatter his clothes on the ground and let a servant pick them up for him later, but tonight, he had been careful to keep everything he needed in a neat pile so he wouldn’t waste time fumbling around. As he pulled on his boots and laced up the leather braces he wore around his legs, he listened to Aldreda snoring faintly on the bed. She was normally a heavy sleeper anyway, but with all the wine he had plied her with, he felt certain she would not wake.

Once he was fully dressed, he crawled over to the dressing table she had left her necklace on top of. Ivar suddenly realized that it was just out of his reach while he was on his hands and knees. He let out a quiet curse as he gripped the edges of the table and painstakingly pulled himself to his feet.

Aldreda shifted in bed and he froze, his legs trembling underneath him as he tried to keep his balance. “Ivar?” she asked sleepily.

“Go back to sleep,” he told her. He could feel the table starting to tip and he threw all his weight forward to prevent it—and himself—from crashing to the floor. He had prepared an excuse in case Aldreda woke while he was getting dressed or leaving, but it would be a little more difficult to explain to her that he had inadvertently knocked over her dressing table while trying to steal her mother’s necklace as a bribe for his escape attempt.

“Mm,” she answered. She rolled over and her breathing slowed once again, and Ivar let out a silent sigh of relief. He quickly snatched the necklace, lowered himself back down to the floor, and shoved it into his pocket before he could change his mind. It’s just a necklace, he lied to himself. Her father can get her another one.

He knew he couldn’t linger any longer. The guard that patrolled the hall outside their room would be changing soon, and he had to time it so that he left while the hallway was clear and before the next set of guards arrived. He crawled to the door and strained his ears, listening to the faint murmur of voices on the other side. An eternity passed before he finally heard them walking away.

Ivar exhaled slowly and waited another moment. He cast one final look back at Aldreda before reaching up to grab the handle and tentatively pushing the door open.

The hallway was empty. The next set of guards was late, no doubt caught up in the aftermath of the feast. He silently thanked the gods, dragged himself into the hall, and carefully shut the door behind him, checking again to make sure he hadn’t been seen. Then he made his way as quietly and as quickly as he could to the meeting place he had chosen with Father Wilfred.

The priest was already waiting for him inside the rarely-used storage room down the hall, tapping his foot impatiently as Ivar crawled inside. “You’re late,” Father Wilfred snapped. The man looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and he kept anxiously glancing over his shoulder even though it was just the two of them in the room. He held out his hand. “I want what you promised me.”

“Fine.” Ivar took the necklace out of his pocket and reluctantly handed it over. The priest held it in his hands for a moment as though weighing it, and then he stuffed it down his shirt. They both knew there would be no going back for either of them after this.

“Cover yourself,” the priest ordered, tossing Ivar a large, dirty blanket in return. After Ivar wrapped himself in the blanket and covered his head, Father Wilfred picked him up with a grunt and slung him over his shoulder, staggering under his weight.

“Really?” Ivar groaned as Father Wilfred started walking. It would be extremely obvious to anybody they passed that the priest was carrying a body, blanket or no blanket. “This is the best disguise you could come up with? We’re going to get caught.”

“We will definitely get caught if you keep talking,” Father Wilfred whispered back. “And if you had a better idea for a disguise, you should’ve told me. You’re the most recognizable person in this entire palace!”

“That’s not my fault,” Ivar said, but he shut up after that. From inside the blanket, he had no clue which direction Father Wilfred was taking him, and for a moment, he wondered if he had horribly misjudged the man. The priest could be taking him straight to Aethelwulf to tell him everything. Then they’d toss him in the dungeon and leave him there for the rest of his life. He could call the man a liar, but it would be no use—after all, it was hard to come up with an innocent explanation for why he had just stolen Aldreda’s mother’s necklace and had himself wrapped in a blanket to get smuggled out of the palace.

Fortunately for him, Father Wilfred did not take him to Aethelwulf. After a considerable amount of huffing and puffing and Ivar repeatedly banging his chin into the priest’s back as he went down some stairs, Father Wilfred finally paused, dumped Ivar on the ground, and pulled the blanket off his head.

Ivar blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. They had ended up on the grounds just outside the kitchen, behind a cart full of wine barrels. Father Wilfred was saying a few words to a burly man that Ivar assumed was the owner of the cart. Then he turned back to Ivar and gestured to an empty barrel that was lying on its side. “In you go,” he said. “Everything has been arranged. My friend here will take you directly to the closest port and the boat to Kattegat.”

Ivar looked dubiously at the inside of the empty barrel. It seemed far too small. “You can’t be serious,” he complained, but after a moment he scooted inside and discovered that it was indeed a very tight fit. His joints protested as he tried to fold his legs in closer to his body in a hopeless attempt to get comfortable. The wood reeked of wine and it made him slightly nauseous.

Once he was in, Father Wilfred and the other man turned the barrel upright and lifted it onto the cart. Ivar looked up to see the priest staring down at him with a thoroughly annoyed expression on his face. It occurred to him that he was unlikely to see Father Wilfred after this. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I hope I never see you again in my life,” Father Wilfred said before he could say anything. Then he jammed down the lid and left Ivar in almost complete darkness.

He waited there for what felt like years. Finally, the cart began to move. He gritted his teeth as they hit seemingly every pothole in the road and he attempted without success to find a better position for his cramped legs. With the lid on the barrel, the smell of stale alcohol was nearly overwhelming and he could hardly keep himself from retching.

His adrenaline had kept him going all night, but as the cart rattled on through the darkness he finally felt himself growing sleepy. Despite the discomfort of being squeezed into a barrel, he ended up dozing intermittently and then jolting awake whenever the cart hit a rough patch. After the first few times this happened, he found himself longing for the soft sheets and down-filled pillows on Aldreda’s bed, and the gentle warmth of the sunlight hitting his face in the morning, and lying there half-awake until finally Aldreda yawned and nudged him to get up…

Gods, what was wrong with him? He had left all of that behind. He tried instead to think about home, and everything he was going to do when he made it back to Kattegat—assuming his mother ever let him out of her sight again. But he would wear her down eventually. He always did.

After a long while, he could hear the birds starting to chirp, and around the edges of the lid, there was the faintest hint of light. He inhaled deeply, trying in vain to pick up the smell of salty air over the stench of old wine. Father Wilfred had told him it would be a day’s journey to reach the port by cart, but perhaps he had overestimated it. They might be there sooner.

The cart came to an abrupt halt. Ivar heard men talking and then the sound of somebody climbing onto the back of the cart. His heart beat faster. Perhaps the cart driver had decided they were far enough away from the royal villa and it was safe to let him out. Or maybe they had already arrived. Once he was on the boat, nothing—barring another storm or some other intervention of the gods—would keep him from making it home to Kattegat.

The top of the barrel was suddenly wrenched open. Ivar blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light only to find Aethelwulf glaring down at him. His father-in-law’s face was red with fury.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

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blueburds · 4 years ago

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OC Interview: Altrethir Valran

Tagged by @sleepswithvillains - I loved your approach to this prompt and I’m doing mine in a similar style!

I’m gonna tag @trixcuomo and @seilune ! I think you two would especially love to do this :D

A printed magazine plopped onto Altrethir’s desk with a slap. His eyes flicked up, meeting the gaze of Andronikos. The human man simply gestured to the magazine.

The Sith arched a brow as he looked to it and groaned internally. The picture. Out of all the ones they took, why that one? He looked far more imposing in others.

“I see you’ve found a copy of the latest issue of the Imperial Chronicles,” Altrethir muttered, tentatively bringing it closer to have a look for himself.

“Just happened to stumble across it,” Andronikos said. “The interview you and Ashara went to last month, was that all for this?”

“It was, yes,” Altrethir replied as he flipped to the page where said interview was written. His eyes darted across the words, as if he was checking to see if they altered anything he said.

► Name? ➔ “Darth Nox of the Dark Council.”

He says, but I ask for his real name. He is hesitant.

“Altrethir Valran.”

► Are you single? ➔ "I am married to my work.”

► Are you happy? ➔ “At the moment, I feel mellow. Overall, I am content with my position and achievements, but strive to do more to better the Empire.”

► Are you angry? ➔ “I am able to make myself angry within a second, but I will refrain from doing so now.”

► Are your parents still married? ➔ “They were still together when they passed.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth place ➔ “Hutta.”

His mood shifts and for the first time this interview, he tears his gaze from me.

► Hair color Lekku patterns ➔ Darth Nox’s lekku are moderately tattooed. There are, however, more designs upon his face than there are on his head tails.

► Eye color ➔ An unnatural scarlet - like that of powerful Sith - that are a slightly lighter gold toward the pupil.

► Birthday ➔ “Mid-spring.”

► Mood ➔ Darth Nox appears calm, relaxed, if not observant. I can feel him watching, maybe judging, my body language.

► Gender ➔ “Male.”

► Summer or winter? ➔ “Both can be dreadful, depending on the planet. I suppose if we use Dromund Kaas for this scenario, I should say summer. I’m more accustomed to heat than I am to bitter cold.”

► Morning or afternoon? ➔ “Morning, I suppose.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love? ➔ “Once more, I must confess that I am married to my work. I’ve little time to spare on love.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight? ➔ “Attraction, indeed, but not love.”

► Who ended your last relationship? ➔ “I haven’t any past relationships.”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart? ➔ “Physically? Yes. And intentionally.” Nox gives a sly grin. His apprentice fidgets in her seat in discomfort.

► Are you afraid of commitments? ➔ “Not at all. I wouldn’t have made it to where I am today if I wasn’t truly dedicated.”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Nox pauses to think, his face scrunching lightly in thought. He exchanges a glance with his apprentice but she gives a big shrug. “I don’t recall,” he says, “I don’t think I have.”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔ “It’s unlikely that I haven’t.”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “I have, yes; but I was able to make the most out of my emotions.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust? ➔ "Both are appealing to me.”

► Lemonade or ice-tea? ➔ "’Ice tea,’” Nox sneers. “Stars, no. Tea, but hot.”

► Cats or dogs? ➔ “I’m not much of an animal person, to be quite honest. I suppose a cat would require less maintenance.”

► A few best friends or many regular friends? ➔ "A few close friends, but perhaps that is my introverted side speaking.”

► Wild night out or romantic night in? ➔ “A romantic night in, certainly.” He smirks, “That is, until my theoretical partner and I tire of it and crave something more exciting.”

► Day or night? ➔ “Both, I suppose. I’ve no preference in that regard.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out? ➔ Nox huffs a sigh, “More times than I should care to admit.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs? ➔ “No.” But his apprentice slowly raises a brow. He pauses. “Once.”

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “I have, and I still do. The state of the Empire means everything to me.”

► Wanted to disappear? ➔ “Several times, I fear. It is a rather nice feeling, I will admit, to be on a planet in which no one recognizes you. To give a recent example, Rishi was quite an interesting experience.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes? ➔ “Both are quite nice, though I notice one’s eyes first.”

► Shorter or taller? ➔ “I’ve no preference in that regard; both are fine with me.”

► Intelligence or attraction? ➔ “I feel as though I’m cheating,” he grins, “Once more I should answer with both.”

► Hook-up or relationship? ➔ “I’m in no search of a relationship at the moment, nor a hook-up. So neither.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along? ➔ Nox frowns and shakes his head, “No. No, we do not.”

► Would you say you have a ‘messed up life’? ➔ “Depends on one’s point of view. I tend to be optimistic, so I see my past as a road of opportunities that lead me to this stage in my life. I had many, many hardships along the way, but I’m content with the person I turned out to be.”

► Have you ever ran away from home? ➔ “Korriban was the only place that felt like a ‘home,’ but no. I was made an official apprentice and left Korriban to bigger and better places.”

► Have you ever got kicked out? ➔ He thinks. “No, I don’t believe I have.”

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends?➔ “A wise woman once told me to keep my friends close, and enemies closer.”

► Do you consider all your friends good friends? ➔ “Mn, not all.”

► Who is your best friend? ➔ “Oh, how I despise favoritism,” he waves a hand dismissively, tossing a smirk to his apprentice. “I cannot say that I have a single best friend. But I’ve grown close with some of my crewmates, and I’d certainly trust them with my life.”

► Who knows everything about you? ➔ “Such information would be unwise to include in a public magazine, I’m afraid. For their own sake, I must refuse to answer.”

Altrethir heaved a small sigh. From the looks of it, they wrote down everything correctly. “Frankly, I’m surprised they didn’t ask more personal questions.”

“Those seemed pretty personal to me,” Andronikos said with a light shrug. “Surprised you even answered some of those. So, Sith. Who is your best friend?”

Altrethir tossed him an amused grin, “You clearly read the interview. I’ve multiple. And, yes, you are certainly one.”

“Good. Would’ve been kind of offended if I wasn’t,” he mirrors the Twi’lek’s smirk and pushes himself from the desk, leaving the magazine with Altrethir. The Sith turned the next page and- saw an advertisement for Korriban, with Harkun’s face on it. He sneered and abruptly shut it. Why hasn’t he killed that man?

#i'm gonna go out on a limb and say this interview was after Revan's defeat but before Ziost got fucked #Altrethir 'I have to ask Ashara if I've hugged anyone in the past week because I can't remember for myself' Valran #and his Relationship(tm)✨ with Theron is 100000000% secret #he aint gonna tell any kind of journalists about that #Altrethir Valran #writing stuff #this was FUN BTW i loved this #my art #art's super rushed cuz i wanted to do it TODAY so sry for the laziness

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prosciuttulipa · 5 years ago

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Performance Art - Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Hello everyone!

This ficlet is dedicated to @softlimefluff as a little thank you for the OC Stand Design she did for me! Rohan is a character I’ve never written for before, so my apologies if it’s not in character! I did have a lot of fun trying to portray him though, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Pose for me.”

It’s a sunny day in Morioh. Breezes are common during this season, and one passes through the neighbourhood, tousling your hair and rushing past Rohan’s ears before dying down. Comfortable silence fills the air. Sunshine filters in through the trees, lights up your face, and he sees your cheeks are flushed. “Pose for you?” You ask.

“Yes. I’m losing precious time waiting.” He flips to a new page in his sketchbook, pen in hand. “Just sit where you are. You were watching the birds before, yes? Continue doing that.”

As per usual, it doesn’t take him long to get his sketch done. The proportions are perfect, the lighting defined, the details impeccable.

But something isn’t right. There is a lack of depth in your graphite gaze. The negative spaces feel like cheap imitations for sunlight. It’s missing essence, spirit, core. It is a piece that is easy on the eyes, a shallow aesthetic and nothing more.

Ridiculous. He has pressed his lips against yours, and hence he knows the warmth they bring. He has cupped your cheeks, the small of your back, your thighs, and hence he knows how perfectly your dips and curves fit into his. He knows how you work because he has observed you. Your crutches, your passions — all of it, he has taken the time to make sense of. So why won’t it translate?

He sketches another piece. Then another one. Then another. Plain. Flimsy. Empty.

“Rohan? Is everything okay –”

“Not now.” He hears frustration in his voice, and he snaps his sketchbook shut, thinking. “…You’re free to stop posing.”

He is glad that you don’t press for more. The sun lights up your gaze as you get up from where you are, another breeze playing with your hair. He thinks about that image as you head back in, and flips open his sketchbook once more. He draws it like it was, mid-motion.

Still not right.

You are Rohan’s only subject for weeks, and he fills sketchbooks with your expressions and poses. He tries different mediums. Charcoal grasps the texture of your skin, but its lack of color fails to convey how brightly you glow in the sun. Watercolour produces your soothing energy but teeters on the edge of melancholic, making you a faraway past when you are tangible, real, now. Oil pastels and oil paints are saturated and make you overbearingly intense. Acrylics are adaptable, but too adaptable — you stand out to him, and he will not use such a pliant and passive medium to portray you. Chalk. Crayons. He turns to photography, but he is always a shutter shot too late, capturing stiff shoulders and strange expressions. Even when he does manage to catch you unaware, the photos are disappointingly superficial. He hates all of them.

“Still trying to draw me?”

It has been a month since he has found himself working away at the mystery of portraying you. Rohan looks up from his sketchbook to watch you sit down with him at the dining table, a steaming mug between your hands. The sun filters in through the windows, catching in your hair.

He starts sketching out of instinct, but gives up once he sees that you’ve moved positions to look at the window. It doesn’t matter anyway — even in its preliminary stages, he knows the sketch is going to end up disappointing.

“…I’m sure you’ll get it.” He hears you say, and looks up to see you smiling, mug at your lips. “You are the great Rohan Kishibe, after all.”

“I am the great Rohan Kishibe.”

You huff out a laugh through your nose, lips curling up even more. He watches as you sip at your drink. He listens to your quiet hum.

Watch. Listen.

The realization knocks the breath out of him, and suddenly the day seems a bit brighter, a bit more vivid. Of course. How didn’t he see it earlier? Your charm doesn’t come from being captured and immortalized for all eternity. Expressions ever changing, moving, standing, sitting, but never truly still –

“Rohan, you’re going to break your pen.” Your voice brings him back, and it rings out in the quiet of the morning. “…Is everything okay?”

He nods, looks up and watches you, really watches you now.

Your smile is beautiful. “You figured it out?”

“Yes.” This may be the one time where he decides his sketchbook and pen are not needed, the one time where drawing and inking into paper is not the way to go. This is it. If he is going to make you art, then this is how you’re meant to be experienced — alive, present, charming audiences with every word you breathe, every move you make.

“Not going to draw me?”

“No.” He answers, “This is right.”

You are performance art, and he’s got the best spot.

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years ago

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Pureblood 14 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 2,576

Warnings: Violence/ Torture

Masterlist:

Chapter 13 // Chapter 15

‘Dear Remus:

The Christmas party wasn't as disastrous as I thought it would be, but it wasn't much fun either. I hope you’ve had something better.

Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you is the progress of the plan:

Regulus and Jenna heard my father talked about a minister who will marry us as soon as we graduate, he’s supposed to be a great friend of the family, although I never met him. The ceremony will be different from that of my older brothers. The men talked about a future change in the wizarding world. May have to do with what happened to me in the summer, I still don’t know the details, but the fact is that they’re in a hurry to get us married and unite the families.

The women talked about a huge dance where only the most important families are invited. I thought that with the Christmas party, all the presentations would end, but I was wrong. Jenna heard that even the Potters are invited.

I don't know which news makes me more nervous.

It's all we could get, I don't know what it can do, but I'm confident you can come up with something huge and cool– by the way, did you like the gift I sent you? I was planning to go buy that book myself in a Muggle town near my home, but I had to send the house elf, I hope you like it.

Merry Christmas, Wolfie.

P.S x

I put the letter in an envelope, walk to the window where Lif is, Jane and Apollo’s owl, I give her a snack and I give her the letter.

"With the Lupins, little Lif…” I pat her head and she flies off.

I decide to take a shower and change into a simple blue shirt and jeans. I leave my room and hear voices from the stairs.

"Enough Isis!"

"Who is Remus, my dear Juno?" Isis and Juno are at each end of the table. Juno looks furious, her face is red, unlike our older sister who has a huge smile. "Is anyone in love? You mention it too much in your journal…”

She says holding up a black notebook.

Wait a minute.

"Remus?" I ask drawing his attention. Juno bites her lip.

“It's not what it seems! It’s not Remus, Isis shouldn’t read my diary!”

"Did someone say Diary?" Balder comes to my side. Isis shares a look with our brother and throws the notebook at him, who catches him in the air and runs to the living room, Juno and Isis follow him and since I want to know what happens, I also run.

"I can't talk to him, I just can't, is too embarrassing," Balder recites in a high-pitched voice making us laugh. “What does Persephone have? I am much smarter than her– and interesting. I don’t get it!”

I turn to Juno and my smile disappears when I notice her watery eyes, and how she hugs herself.

"Hey, Bal, come on, that's private,” My brother ignores me and continues reading. "Balder!" My voice surprises him and he sees me raising an eyebrow. "I said enough is enough.”

"And what’ll you do about it, little sister?"

Suddenly the four of us are running around the house. Isis and Balder throw the notebook at each other while Juno and I try to catch up with them. And to our bad luck, they take advantage of coming of age to cast the spawn spell just as we’re about to catch them.

But after a moment I manage to jump on Balder's back and we both struggled to get the notebook. I pull his hair and he complains.

"You're a damn bloody monkey, Persephone!"

"Return the diary or I'll bite you, Ape,” I stretch and finally take the notebook, but I don't have time to celebrate since Balder loses his balance and we both fall to the ground.

Isis and Juno see us and the last one lets out a sigh of relief when she sees me with her diary. The tense moment is replaced by Balder's laughs, then followed by the girls, including me. Balder and I carefully get off the ground.

The laughter continues until I feel something go down my nose, I touch that part and my fingers are bloody. “Oh, great.”

"Classic, Persephone’s always the one who gets hurt," Isis snorts.

"Oh, this is my time to get in," says Jane walking towards us with a small briefcase in hand. "I heard laughter, I knew you would need my help," She gestures with her hand and guides me to a dining room chair. I sit down and she faces me, opens the briefcase and begins to heal my nose.

Isis and Balder start a conversation as if nothing had happened and go towards the living room, while Juno approaches us.

“Oh, yeah." I lift the notebook without looking at her as Jane takes my chin to wipe away the blood.

Juno takes it and hugs it against her chest. I thought that would be it and she would leave, but she just stands there. Jane and I share a look.

"Are you hurt, honey?" The blonde asks.

"Oh no... I just–" She watches me and suddenly her cheeks flush. Now I understand. I giggle.

"So do you like Remus?" I raise my eyebrows and Jane stops touching my face.

“Who's Remus?" Jane asks and Juno bites her lip.

"It's nobody. Please don't tell him,” She begs me and I laugh.

If I’m honest, thinking about Juno and Remus… I don't like that idea.

The last time I had a conversation with her, it was not kind at all, also, I don’t want Remus to be close to my disastrous family, he already has enough with me.

"I won't tell him, take it easy,” She nods and leaves.

Jane puts a little bandaid on my nose.

"Done, just be careful next time.”

"If there’s a next one, it’ll be worse, I assure you. Isis is right, whenever we play I get hurt– I broke my arm once and was only on the swings! Apollo and Balder decided it’d be a good idea to help me swing very high,” We both laugh.

"Can I ask you something?" She says.

“Sure?”

"You know that Remus guy,” I nod. "It's not to criticize you or tell you what to do, but don't you think it’d be good to help Juno with the boy?"

“No,” She raises her eyebrows.

"Just like that?”

“Yes," I think she expects something more. I roll my eyes. “Juno's not Remus’ type, they wouldn’t be a good couple.”

“Why're you so sure?" I sigh.

"Listen, I don't know what impression you have of Juno, here she’s always more serious and quiet, but at Hogwarts she’s different, everything worsened since... the accident in the summer." She shifts in her chair, obviously Apollo told her what happened.

“I don't know what’s going on in Juno's mind, I just know that they’re not good things and I’m not going to let those things happen to Remus. He’s…” I think about it for a few seconds and smile. “He’s become a good friend of mine and because of that, I want to protect him.”

"But Juno’s your sister?”

“All the more reason, I’m going to protect him from my own family. He doesn't need any more problems, Jane.” She finally sighs.

"Well, I'm not going to get into your business," I nod and suddenly she smiles. "Do you know who’s excited?" She lifts her blouse to expose her belly. “He's been kicking since he heard you.”

"Yes, this is scaring me, Jane," She laughs.

"If you don't come for your gifts, I'll keep them to myself!" I hear Isis scream. I don't wait any longer and run towards the huge Christmas tree where all the presents are.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

After life's most awkward family reunion, in which it seemed like I didn't exist, they finally let me go back to my room with my Christmas presents. I sit down on the floor in front of my bed and put them close to me.

The first is Regulus' gift, a beautiful necklace, apparently gold, I smile. The next one was from Remus, which I open with a lot of emotion, it’s a red notebook, really nice, I open it and I find a note on the first page.

‘Here you can write our progress with the classes... or you can use it as a journal, you can do whatever you want, but I wrote what we’ve done in the last weeks, I hope you like it.

RL.’

I keep going and laugh when I find his notes, warnings and some muggle jokes, obviously explained. He’s really sweet, I can see the details and the dedication he had in doing it.

The following gifts are from relatives, with some notes to wish me luck with my marriage, some people I don’t even know –I’m sure they only want to get a place at the wedding. I roll my eyes. The last one I open is a small navy blue box, I open it and I find a pretty simple necklace along with a circular charm. I check it everywhere, but there’s no note. I don't give it much thought, but I decide to put it around my neck.

“Persephone," a thick voice scares me, I look up meeting my father at the door frame. I shrink into my place.

"Y-Yes?" I can't help but stutter.

"I think it's time to talk, come with me,” He doesn't wait for an answer and leaves my room. I get up and follow him.

We both head to his study. Upon entering, he locks the door, then walks to his desk and leans in front of it.

I bite the inside of my cheek when I see the room, I remember that I was always afraid to come here, so I told my dad that he should always have the curtains open, so that more light could come in, which he did. But now the entire room is dark except for the center, which is lit by the dim light of three candles.

My hands sweat and tremble uncontrollably, I can hear my heartbeat. He just watches me quietly for a few minutes.

"You should know that your marriage to Sirius is not a punishment for what happened a few months ago," for the first time since I returned I dare to look him directly in the eye.

"That's not true," I say in a weak voice. I clear my throat. "If it wasn't one, you would’ve made the news next year or even when I was in seventh grade, why now?"

"Dear Persephone, it's not all about you,” I raise my eyebrows at his words. A smile appears on his face, but it’s not the same as when he knows of some mischief of mine. That look, those gestures he makes when he is doing business, when he knows that the other person has no way out.

"Isn't my wedding about me?" I say louder in a moment of bravery. "You don't have to lie– No, wait, you already did that.” He raises an eyebrow.

“It's the only way to unite the Black and Singh families."

"I have better ideas.” Shut up, please.

"Your wedding is not the end of the world,” He says raising his voice.

"It is for me. You're going to ruin my life and Sirius's. We both want to choose whether we want to do it or not,” He laughs now.

"Do you think I had a choice with your mother, nor did the Blacks have it?"

“That's no excuse for us not having a choice.”

"You don't understand anything, silly girl"

"I won’t marry Sirius.”

"Yes you will!" He’s fast and I back up until I hit the wall. “I will not allow you to ruin the family name because of your tantrums. We’re doing you a favor, given what happened in the summer and the constant rebellion of Sirius, it is time for someone to put you in your place!” My eyes tear up. "This is your time to remedy your cowardice.” He moves away a little. I’m surprised at his words.

"Cowardice? Not wanting to kill a Muggle family, is that what you call cowardice? ”

"They are infe-"

"They are not!" I interrupt before he continues with the same sermon as always. "That family was innocent, I was and you didn’t mind taking their lives!" The memories come quickly.

That day in which nothing was different, until my brother Apollo and Isis abandoned their routines with their family to arrive at our house late at night. I remember that my father called me and I went down to the living room, the furniture was not there and everything was lit by candles and the flames of the fireplace.

"What's going on?" I asked. My whole family was gathered in the center, their bodies are covered in black robes.

"I want you to come closer, daughter," Says my father, raising his arms. I get closer until I'm in front of him. His hands touch my shoulders.

"Unfortunately, the dark lord is in a great hurry to gather his people, and we can't wait for you to turn seventeen, darling," He touches my cheek.

“Dark Lord?”

"Finally there’s someone with courage to put an order in the magical world,” adds my mum.

"We will explain later, now you must do something for me, would you do it?" I nodded. "That's my girl,” suddenly another black figure comes out from behind my father.

"This is Bartemius Crouch Jr." The man comes up with a sinister smile and takes my hand.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Singh," He says, then releases my hand and goes to a corner.

"Persephone, you must show Mr. Crouch that you’re worthy to be on the side of the Dark Lord."

"But... I- I don't- I don't know, dad," I say nervously.

"Don't worry, it's a simple thing, I'll be here.” Isis reaches out and holds out my wand. "Take it," I obey with my trembling hand.

Then they all stepped back to reveal three kneeling figures. My father guides me until I’m in front of them.

He holds up his wand and the cloth that covered their faces disappears. My breath cuts short and my eyes are wide, I try to back away, but my father avoids it by putting a hand on my lower back.

A man, a woman and an 8-year-old boy. The three wake up and when they notice the new location they begin to move, and try to speak, but the ties on their hands and feet and the cloth in their mouths prevent it.

"Crucio!" My father exclaims and the three of them screech in pain. The little boy is crying just like his mother.

I look at them with pure terror, what the fuck do they want me to do with them?

"What is this? Why are they here? Who are they, dad? ”

“Calm down, Persephone. This family–” He points out to them. “They are Muggles, do you remember what I have taught you about them?” I nod in confusion. "Well, now you must show that we’re superior to them.”

“Wha– How?" My father stands behind me and whispers in my ear.

"Kill them.”

Taglist:

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107 @thagreenmoon @madmaiden2890 @bloodorangemoonlight @ren-ela @avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @mey-rapp

#Pure blood #hp fanfic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter #remus lupin #harry potter #twoidiots writing

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peaky-shelby · 5 years ago

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Back to you [4]

“Thunderstorms in spring„

Pairing: oc x Halstead bothers

Previous: prologue, episode one, episode two

Series summary: an old friend comes back and is need for help from the Halstead brother’s. Will this story end in heartbreak or a win?

Episode summary: Loralai talks to jay about the case and she and will are back to their old ways.

Words: 1745

Warngings: lots of angst this time, angry will

Author’s note: quite ironically this page is only the calm before the real storm. Some big revelations happening in the next chapter woohoo!! Please keep commenting and sending feedback it’s the only way I’m motivated to keep writing and it helps a lot. Thank you!! (+) quick dedication to @peachlle for reading and commenting, you are amazing♥️ I hope you’ll enjoy!!

Jay entered the hospital with a file in his hands. Turns out Ruzek had managed to shoot and kill one of the three guys that had attacked them earlier in the day and that was their only lead. They followed it but nothing good came out except a few random names and a photograph. He was hoping Loralai would have more to tell now that she was awake.

He stopped his pace when he heard loud voices coming from Loralai’s room, he took a peek and saw Will standing next her, shaking his head. His was very familiar with this picture of the two of them.

“This isn’t a joke Loralai!” Shouted Will. Jay felt like he was taken back to Will’s old apartment, listening to them fighting on their bedroom while he was in the living room, trying to ignore them.

“Isn’t it?” She asked, her voice loud and clear “because it feels like we’re back in time! It’s always the same fight with you Will, the same dialogue! You haven’t even changed your lines!”

“My lines? What about your ways Lor? How many times do you have to get hit to realize that you gotta stop—“

“IT’S MY JOB!” She shouted back.

“Your job is to write not to dodge bullets and pray that you’ll survive!”

“I don’t care wether I’ll survive or not!” She spat “even if I die, at least I’m dying for a reason! People will hear the stories that matter—“

“And what about the people that love you?” He asked, cutting her off before she could say anything else “what about your parents? Your sister? Me? Jay who saw you bleeding out in his hands? You die and then what happens to us? You really think it’s gonna be that easy for us to let go?”

Loralai scoffed “it didn’t seem like it was that hard for you to let me go three years ago.” She looked away “which reminds me. You are not even my boyfriend and I’m not your girlfriend so why the hell are we even fighting about this?”

Will didn’t answer to that, even Jay could feel how much it must have hurt him when she said those words. It was a cruel reminder but the truth. Will didn’t need to listen to anymore if it and as he stepped out of the room and turned the other way he bumped into Jay. He held him still.

“You ok Bud?” He asked but all Will could do was move his head. There was so much anger in his eyes, Jay expected to see smoke coming out of his ears. He looked down, rubbing his face, there were so many things he wanted to say but couldn’t so instead he settled of the typical “I have to go.”

Jay watched him leave without stopping him and then looked at the door to Loralai’s room. He fixed his jacket, like he was about to get in a ring and took a moment from himself to gather all the strength he could before he stepped inside. It was weird to see her again, awake. She was staring at the ceiling, biting her lip and scratching the sheets with her nails like she always did when she was angry. Ah, the details.

“Hello Sherlock.” He said, getting her attention. Her face light up immediately when she saw him, like she had been expecting him. She reached for him with her arms and jay walked quickly to her, wrapping his hands gently around her. He was so happy to see her safe and healthy. “How you feeling?” He asked, pulling away just enough to look at her.

“Better now that I don’t have your brother yelling at me.”

“he’s just worried about you a lot and you don’t make it easy for him—“

“That’s bullshit Jay! How many times a day do you have a gun pointed at your head? Why doesn’t he give you that speech of love and death— he thinks because I’m a woman I can’t take care of myself.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Loralai! He texts me everyday to make sure I’m ok, he’s as worried for me as he is for you the only difference is I’ve been trained to dodge the bullets! You barely know how to hold a gun!”

Loralai didn’t say anything and before she could come up with a smart reply jay left the file he was holding on the bed and pulled out one of the photographs. “Have you ever seen this guy before?”

Loralai accepted the change in subject and took a moment for herself to think. “No.”

“Ruzek shot him while he was running away. He’s the only one we got from the car. We have no other leads so I was hoping you’d tell me more.” He sat down on the chair next to her bed, waiting to hear her story.

She sighed, looking at the ceiling “one month ago there was a fire at the Heathwood’s family house do you remember?”

“Yes it was an accident—

“Except it wasn’t.” She said confidently. “My editor asked me to write a piece on it and Michael Heathwood who had magically survived. It was a Miracle, the kind of shit that people love to read. But when I met with him...”

“You knew there was something wrong” he finished her sentence and bowed his head “why didn’t you go to the police?”

“The police were on it Jay! They porpusly looked the other way. If I went he would find out! So I did it myself. I looked as deep as I could. His wife, Alicia Stewart, died only one month before the explosion from a car accident and When the house exploded his father in law, Stefan Stewart and his mother in law, Carla Stewart were the only ones that died.”

“You saying he wanted to kill that family?”

“im saying there are far too many coincidences Jay!” She cleared her throat “so I might have illegally checked his bank accounts.” Jay raised his eyebrows and stood still across from her. He didn’t approve at all of what she had told him “I didn’t find anything which was even weirder”

“And I don’t suppose you gave up from then on...”

“I spied on him, searched everything I had on him and you wanna know something funny? Michael heathwood didn’t even exist two years ago!”

“Wait wait—“ He raised his hands, signaling her to slow down. “What?”

“His real name is Peter Evans! He’s a con artist! He tricks rich families, kills them, takes their money, saves it under a different name and runs.”

Jay stood up, pacing the room until he balanced himself on the edge of the bed, trying to process everything that she had told him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you! Make sure that this..” He pointed at her wounds “wouldn’t happen!”

“I had to get enough evidence first. Create the story. If he realized I was on to him he’d disappear in thin air”

He stood straight again, crossing his arms “And Where is your evidence?”

“In the flash drive I gave you!”

Jay didn’t answer, he narrowed his eyes looking at her confused. “What flash drive?”

“In the car!” She insisted “I gave you a USB! Did you lose it?”

Jay hid his face in his palms “it must have fallen on the car.” He said, trying to reassure himself that the information was safe. He looked back at Loralai reaching for her hand and giving it a light squeeze “we’ll find it.” He told her. She held his hand before he could slip it away and he looked in her eyes, his heart beating a little faster. It was the bruise right under her eye that made his body shiver, he couldn’t stand seeing her like this.

“I owe you an apology...” she whispered, completely changing the subject. He tried to fake a smile as if he didn’t understand.

“For getting shot at?”

“Jay—“

“Don’t.” He warned “Not now. We’ll talk when all this is over.” He brought her hand up to his lips and gave it a light kiss before exiting the room. On his way out he caught Will behind the reception, making some notes but he decided not to bother him. Will saw him too from the corner of his eye but he was still angry from before to have any conversation with any body.

When he finished writing his notes he looked towards Loralai’s room. She had her eyes closed and she looked like she was about to fall asleep, god knows she needed that rest. He sat down on a chair, watching her sleep. He couldn’t go home and he couldn’t go in her room after their argument so this was the best way to check up on her and make sure she’d be ok. After a while he started to fall asleep himself. The position of his neck was so uncomfortable that kept waking him up and annoying him. When he opened his eyes again because of the pain he saw Loralai moving nervously on her bed. Turning her head right and left and whimpering. He jumped of his chair and rushed to her side.

First thing he did was check her wounds but he saw nothing alarming. When his hand touched her skin, her eyes shot open and she grabbed for his wrist. She looked so terrified to him, so broken, nothing like the confident girl he was used to having around. All the time he knew her there was always one thing she couldn’t battle and that was her nightmares.

He made sure to look calm and not scare her anymore than she already was. “Hey hey it’s ok. It’s just me. Lor?” He held her hand softly, stroking her fingers until she broke down into tears. This was the first time he had seen her cry today, all it took was a nightmare. He sat next to her on the bed, pulling her swiftly in his arms to warm her. He caressed her back and kissed her forehead, whispering sweet words in her hair, his breath falling on her like a veil of safety. She snuggled closer while he spoke, reassuring her that it would be alright.

He always thought of her like a thunderstorm in spring. It didn’t rain a lot but when it did... it was hell.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #will halstead #chicago fire #chicago fan fic #chicago pd #chicago med #chicago #nick gehlfuss #jesse lee soffer #one chicago

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duskdragon39 · 4 years ago

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dust can’t settle: Commentary

I thought you were done with credits and notes and commentaries, I hear you say. You had an entire chapter dedicated to credits and notes. Why do you have more notes?

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, @stellarfoam and I wrote a thing for @pod-together, got a whole ton of talented people to help us read it, and created the first ao3 relationship for the tag “Original Fear Entity Avatar Characters & Original Fear Entity Avatar Characters (The Magnus Archives)” except the tag was too long so the “the” got dropped. You can find that here. If, however, you have already read/listened to/somehow otherwise experienced our oc/self-insert-heavy original statement fic, welcome! I assume you’re here because you wanted to listen to me ramble on for yet another thousand words. If you’re not looking for that, well, here it is.

Under the cut, anyways

The World of DCS:

This is, very technically, the Magnus Archives fanfic.

I say technically, because nowhere in this does canon appear. It appears in the inspiration and base worldbuilding, but other than that... yeah no.

So this started when Kai and I looked at the worldbuilding TMA has for the U.S. and went “yeah there’s got to be more than one institute.” Thus the San Francisco Institute for the Unusual and Paranormal was born, along with its satellite offices in Denver and Chicago. Those same satellite offices also serve The Usher Foundation in DC. The branch offices collect statement, both written and recorded, and other research on the paranormal. Every five years, SFIUP sends along a couple of archival assistants to go and transfer those files to long-term storage in San Francisco or DC. The relationship between the branch offices and SFIUP can be best summed up as follows:

Chicago & Denver: Bigger archives are always bossing us around :( San Fran & DC: Alright but can you like, actually store your statements Chicago & Denver: No.... San Fran & DC: Okay, so...? Chicago & Denver: DON’T TELL US WHAT TO DO

Also, we said screw you to Smirke’s 14. There’s every chance that by defining and putting boundaries on the 14 he actually helped shape them into those roles, and we figured that different places would have different mergers and interpretations of those 14. Most of our statements merge or ignore the defined fears- Something There is Dark/Hunt/Eye, Hung is Vast/Buried, Beauty is Eye/Vast, Shasta Lake is just a weirdly big fish, Dragon’s Cauldron might be Hunt? It’s more just a “alright but wouldn’t it be COOL if...”

We also have another giant document about how the fears might manifest in different parts of America.

Because there is never an end to the worldbuilding.

The Car:

Some random facts about the car for your enjoyment: - It woke up because something something knowledge = power and Lee and Dusk (LD) kept reading it statements - So now the equation knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass applies, which is to say that the trunk is a transdimensional space that LD primarily use for storage of random things. - Also a flesh monster. - It’s just back there. - It tried to kill them at one point while crossing through Minnesota. They shoved it in the trunk. It just sort of. Remains there. For awhile. - The car did not approve. - In case your wondering, the car is more or less a traveling archive, and LD are its archivists. - However LD did not sign up for this, and so their road trip culminates eventually with them killing the car. It is a long and terrible battle, and the two of them nearly die. - I have, somewhere on this computer, right now, a recording of the Car’s lovely voice actor Lynx doing a variety of absolutely terrible voices, including petulant teenager and valley girl.

Statements:

We have two pages worth of statement ideas still that we’ll get around to writing someday. If we stop adding to them. Here’s the stories behind some of the ones that made it into the fic, and some other general things I wanted to talk about.

Chapter 1: Archivist’s Note, San Francisco, Shasta Lake:

The recording classification system does not have much thought put into it, but follows the following format

[Media type];[Supernatural Classification].[Year].[Month]:[Employee(s) responsible for the case]

So in the case of [S;F15.2015.06-09:LD)], it’s: Statement(s);Multiple fears.2015.June-September:Lee & Dusk

Is this a perfect system? Hell no. Did this get as deep into archive classification systems as I wanted to go for a 15k fic? Yes.

The Shasta Lake statement pulled heavily from several sources, including the Shasta Lake fishing website, Wikipedia, and an actual news story about a couple of guys who saved a sturgeon from choking on a catfish. It’s kinda an amazing story, especially since the fish was actually about 8 feet long.

Things I don’t want to run into, thank you.

Chapter 4: Empty City, Gas

Empty city was, as mentioned in the fic, inspired by a statement @laurenbrightwing gave to us. And yes, LD absolutely have gone and explored graveyards and abandoned buildings for the Aesthetic of it.

Gas, however, came from The Car, an absolutely beautiful TAU fic by Feneris. Don’t ask what it runs on. You don’t want to know. Chapter 6: Greenway

Fic-Dusk used to work for the Denver Branch Office before going to San Fran. The branch office never forgave them for their treachery.

Chapter 7: Hung

Eastman Chemical Company is an actual company stationed in Tennessee, and this statement was very heavily modeled after Mag 124: Left Hanging, except with more buried vibes.

Needs more buried should be a motto.

Chapter 9: The Dragon’s Cauldron

Guess who went down a research hole? It me.

Research notes for this statement can be found here.

Sources: Debunking the Myth, Fear of Yellowstone (U.S. National Park Service) Native Americans and Yellowstone National Park: Hot Springs, Legends and Sacred Places Explore the Fort Yellowstone Historic District (U.S. National Park Service) Whittesly Yellowstone Myths.pdf Timeline of Human History in Yellowstone - Yellowstone National Park (U.S. National Park Service) Legend of the Sheepeater Indian Tribe in Yellowstone - My Yellowstone Park The History of our Local Tribe: The Sheep Eater Indians - Bitterroot Ranch Dragons in Yellowstone - Yellowstone National Park (U.S. National Park Service)

Chapter 10: Something There, Archivist’s Note 2

RIGHT. This is a fun chain of events that have taken about three years to mature into this story.

Something There started off with a nightmare about something stalking me through my house. I was thoroughly creeped out, and then promptly forgot about it for the next day until I went to walk through my house at night and thought I heard something moving behind me.

About a year later, my composition teacher told us to write a speech. I think the prompt was truth?

So I went off about the thing supposedly living in my house, how no one would believe me if I told them, and implying that I absolutely was lying about the entire thing. My teacher loved it, and I got the highest grade I’d gotten that year for that assignment. (“They lauded me for that, did you know?”)

If that sort of vaguely existential crisis sounds like something you’d have fun reading, the full speech can be found here.

A bit later, I read the same speech for an open mic. One of my friends there yelled out that she believed me- something that did make it into the final version. (“One of my friends told me she believed me, once. I… I just shrugged and told her that there wasn’t actually anything there.”)

It eventually made its way into this project via me trying to figure out what the hell to use for a more spooky statement and stumbling across the speech sitting in my google drive.

I managed to scare myself to the point of not being able to go upstairs in the dark for about a week with the updated version.

I wrote it.

This seems counterintuitive.

Does this make this a self insert story? No. Statement giver here does not in any way respond like I would have in this situation, and they’ve since drifted even farther into full OC territory.

The “they can’t hurt you if you’re watching/if you see them comes from the lovely tma time travel fic “Strangers in the Dark” by Mayarene Rose.

MouseK also gave us the closing line for the fic! It wraps it up so nicely, and I’ve already squeed about this in the fic itself, but they deserve more because the line’s amazing and I love it. Conclusion:

Thanks to everyone who gave us statements, inspired us, and helped us with the project. It’s been an excellent time, and there have already been discussions of either statements collected on this journey or short stories set in the same universe being written.

Thanks for reading!

- Dusk

#podtogether 2020 #the magnus archives #statement fic #twisting roads #duskwrites #too many thoughts head full

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n00dl3gal · 4 years ago

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A Day Off- Bakugo x OC

A commission for @everythingbaku! They requested their OC Ren enjoying a day off with Bakugo. It’s my first time really writing the explodey boy, so I hope I did him justice.

This is where I’d plug my commissions, but I’d rather not get shadowbanned, so instead just check my page’s description.

It was rare for the agency to give both of them the day off. It wasn’t a small agency, but both Katsuki and Ren were reliable and powerful. It would be better to have at least one on call, even if the other was at home. But neither were going to argue with a day together, no obligations. Except possibly meeting Kirishima or Yayorozu for lunch.

Katsuki woke first. Even on days off, he was dedicated to his routine. Early to bed, early to rise and work out. It took a lot of discussion to convince him to not practice his Quirk indoors, yes they were Pro Heroes with no shortage of money, but the insurance only covered so much and purposefully caused explosions didn’t fall within any clause. Ren had triple-checked the contract.

Regardless, Ren woke to a half-empty bed and smiled. Same old Katsuki. Well, maybe not same old. He’d mellowed down quite a bit since UA, even if he was still prone to outbursts. He was better, and improving every day, and Ren loved him for that. For a lot of reasons, really.

Reluctantly, Ren pushed himself out of bed. He could hear Katsuki down the hall in the workout room. He meandered down, pausing briefly to look into the spare room. It was supposed to be an office for Ren, but they ultimately moved the computer into the corner of the bedroom. Now it sat empty. For a moment, Ren wondered if they might fill it- but they were too busy for that. At least for now.

Katsuki was lifting weights, facing away from the door. Ren smiled to himself, admiring his husband’s back muscles, before activating his Quirk. “Good morning, Kacchan!” he said in a perfect recreation of Midoriya’s voice.

The effect was immediate. Katsuki yelped, dropped the weights- narrowly missing his toes in the process- and whipped around. “Deku, what the HEL- Ren, you ass!” Ren laughed, crossing the room to kiss Katsuki’s cheek. “I couldn’t resist, I’m sorry, love,” he cooed. Katsuki groaned but pulled Ren into a one-armed hug. “Ready to enjoy our day off?”

“Yeah, just let me finish these reps,” Katsuki said, letting Ren go. “I left some breakfast for you. Might be cold though.” “Oh, how romantic,” Ren teased, picking up one of the weights. He did a quick curl before giving it back to Katsuki. “If things fall through with the others for lunch, I say we get takeout for dinner. I could go for some Italian.” Katsuki nodded. “And if we do go out for lunch?” “Leftovers, I guess. If we have any.” Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, wishful thinking. Come sit with me when you’re finished, yeah?” There was a grunt of agreement and Ren took his leave.

As promised, there was a bowl of tamago gohan sitting on the kitchen table with a banana nearby. Ren popped the bowl in the microwave- even if the egg ended up cooking, he’d still be content- and began unpeeling the banana. It was a simple breakfast, but a nutritious one. Just the kind of thing Katsuki would prepare with his strict, self-made diet. It made Ren smile.

He opted to dine in front of the TV, curling up with his breakfast. The news was discussing Todoroki’s latest mission, how he was measuring up to his father’s legacy, nothing out of the ordinary. Ren noted with a smile that Katsuki put extra soy sauce in his gohan. A small gesture, but it meant a lot.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Katsuki joined him, sweat beginning to build on his forehead. “What’s the latest?” “Oh, the usual, news about Todoroki and Uraraka, Present Mic’s being loud… slow news day.” “Good. I’d hate to be called into work,” Katsuki said, wrapping an arm around Ren’s shoulders. “You sleep OK?”

“I always sleep better when I’m next to you,” Ren said, twisting to kiss Katsuki briefly. His husband flushed but squeezed him closer. “I’m surprised you got up so early. You’ve had so many late shifts, you deserve to sleep in at least once in a while. And don’t give me some story about how your skills will deteriorate if you take a day off, we both know that rest days are important,” he added, used to Katsuki’s usual response.

But Katsuki just shrugged. “Force of habit at this point. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t. And I didn’t want to wake you, so I figured working out would keep me occupied while you slept.” He smiled. “You deserve to sleep in, yourself.”

Ren smiled and ate another bite of his breakfast. “And I quite enjoyed it. Thank you.” The TV began a new program, a retrospective about All Might. No doubt Midoriya would be mentioned at some point, if it was recent enough. Katsuki grabbed the remote and swapped to a game show. “You don’t want to watch it?”

“We’ve both met All Might, and we both know those programs are full of shit. Besides, if today really is gonna be a day off, I don’t want to use my brain and think. I’d rather watch people get hit in the face.”

Ren sighed, somewhat fondly. “Yeah, that sounds like you, hun.” He finished his gohan and set the empty bowl aside. “Hmm… I should go shower and get dressed…”

Katsuki wrapped his other arm around Ren, tugging him as close as he could. “No. Unless we know we’re leaving this place, I’m spending as much time with you as I can. I’ve missed you, Ren.”

Ren’s heart swelled. Katsuki wasn’t often overtly affectionate, opting instead to express himself in smaller gestures (like the soy sauce). It always made Ren’s knees shake when he acted in this manner. He buried his face in the crook of Katsuki’s neck. “If you insist… I’ve missed you too.”

They didn’t speak for a while, instead basking in each other’s presence. It had been months since they shared anything more than brief hugs, quick hand touches, stolen kisses between rescues. It felt like years since they had sat this close, skin touching skin in way only the bed normally saw. Ren knew it was fleeting, they’d be returning to work in hours, so he relished it as much as he could.

Eventually, Katsuki shifted, pulling Ren into his lap. “Alright, enough cuddling. Let’s get to the fun part,” he whispered, breath husky. “If you want to, that is.”

Ren smiled and kissed his husband, deep and wonderful. “Hmm… I think I could be convinced, but then I’ll really need to shower.”

. . .

Lunch ended up being called off. Kirishima was on the other side of the city and Yaoyorozu had unexpected paperwork. Sometimes, it was comforting to know that even pro heroes had to deal with the same inconveniences of life of civilians and those without Quirks. Still, Ren wasn’t too disappointed. He was fine with whatever food was floating around the house, even if it was mostly leftovers (despite previous fears), and the promise of takeout for dinner was more than enough to satiate him.

Katsuki was harder to please. “We’ve been planning to meet up for months. And I picked those two because Todoroki and Midoriya are way too busy, those bastards-” “Don’t blame your friends for being busy, it’s not their fault they’re in high demand,” Ren said in an attempt to placate him. All it earned him was a glare. “If you really want to go out, we can see if Tsuyu is free…”

Katsuki shook his head. “Honestly, I could care less ‘bout going out with them, I just wanna spend time with you,” he mumbled. Ren snickered and kissed his cheek. “Oi, don’t get a swelled head over it, fuck…”

Ren giggled. “I won’t, I won’t… I just love you.” He took Katsuki’s hand and squeezed it. “I know I say it a lot, but-” “I love you too,” Katsuki interrupted, squeezing back. “I mean, obviously. I wouldn’t have married you if I hated you.” He looked away pointedly. “And I don’t mind you saying it a lot… it’s nice to hear. I know you love me, sure, but it’s still- fuck, what I’m trying to say is it’s nice. Comforting. I’m not great with words.”

Ren nodded, lifting their joined hands so Katsuki could see them. “I know you aren’t, but it’s alright. Your actions speak for you, babe.” He pulled then, yanking Katsuki up from his chair. Ren grabbed Katsuki’s free hand and began swaying back and forth. “Remember how nervous you were to dance at our wedding?” “You’re seriously never going to let me leave that down, are you?”

“It was adorable, hun! The great Bakugo Katsuki, Pro Hero, with a grace and finesse in battle all his own, was worried about his first dance with his husband! We practiced for months in advance.” Katsuki groaned. “I know, I was there.”

“Hmm… maybe we should practice for our anniversary,” Ren said lightly. They were already spinning in a small circle in their kitchen, chests pressed close together.

“You just want an excuse to dance with me,” Katsuki pointed out.

Ren shrugged. “Why put all those lessons to waste?”

It was a shallow excuse and they both knew it. But it didn’t stop Katsuki from sighing and giving in. He even dug out his phone and put it on shuffle. Luckily enough, the song wasn’t some trash metal or screamo punk, but a more downbeat instrumental. Not really ideal for waltzing, but neither made any move to change the music. “If you really have a problem with it, just think of it as more exercise,” Ren suggested.

“You’re acting like I’m not already dancing with you, dipshit,” Katsuki countered, but there was no venom behind it. “You’re such a nerd.” “Yes, but I’m your nerd.”

“Ugh, stop it, you’re making us sound like we’re still in high school. Let me have some dignity,” Katsuki whined, biting the inside of his cheek.

Ren poked said cheek before kissing it. “We’re alone, babe, and I already know you have absolutely no dignity left. You lost it a long time ago… around the same time you married me.”

Katsuki shook his head and pulled Ren closer. “Nah, I actually think that was the most dignified thing I’ve ever done.” It was a sentence that, even in context, didn’t make much sense, but Ren sensed the hidden meaning behind it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

They weren’t even dancing anymore, just standing while Katsuki’s phone cycled through his eclectic taste in music. “Whether it was dignified or not, it doesn’t matter. I’m still going to tease you mercilessly because I love you.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ren.”

. . .

True to his word, Katsuki pulled up a menu for a local Italian place on his phone around dinnertime. “What’re you hungry for?” he asked.

Ren took the phone, scrolling through the options. “The pasta primavera looks good, but that’s what I always get. I should branch out…”

“If you know you like it, get it,” Katsuki replied. “Means I won’t be stuck eating your leftovers when you end up hating it.”

Ren giggled. “Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me. And what are you planning on ordering?”

Katsuki shrugged, leaning back on the couch. He took his phone back, hand lingering on Ren’s. “The shrimp scampi sounds good. Combo that with a side salad and I should still be on my diet.”

“Babe, you allowed to take a day off from your diet,” Ren whined, grabbing the phone again and tapping the screen. The menu changed to the dessert offerings. “Look, they have cannoli! You love cannoli!”

“I’ve never had a cannoli in my life.”

“Well then maybe you love them and you just don’t know it yet! Come on, please?” Ren stuck out his lower lip, batting his eyelashes. Katsuki rolled his eyes and pressed “add to order.” “Ah, babe, you’re the best!” Ren cooed, giving Katsuki an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.

Katsuki huffed. “It’s just because you’re annoying when you beg… and we share a bank account. Don’t get greedy.” He placed the order for delivery and he tossed his phone aside. “Come here.”

“And you just said ‘don’t be greedy,’” Ren commented, but complied anyway. Katsuki pulled his husband onto his lap. “Also, about cannoli… I’ve never had one either. But there’s chocolate involved, so I need to try it.”

“OK, but there was also chocolate decadence cake or whatever bullshit they call it these days. You could’ve just gotten that and we wouldn’t potentially have the same situation we were trying to avoid with your entree,” he chastised.

Ren shrugged. “It’s an Italian restaurant, get the Italian dessert. When in Rome, and all that.”

Katsuki elected to ignore Ren’s ramblings and silence him with a kiss. The effect was immediate, Ren quickly kissed back, tangling his hands in Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki smirked, exhaling a small laugh. Ren’s breath hitched and he practically smashed the other’s face to his. “Yeah, you know what happens when you start talking shit, don’t you,” Katsuki half-whispered. “You know what it does to me, and in turn, what I do to you.”

Ren groaned, sucking on Katsuki’s neck. “This- is gonna- get really awkward- when the- delivery- person comes,” he said between kisses.

“We’re already fucking famous and famously married, let them see,” Katsuki growled. “Remind them that you’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” Ren echoed, pulling away with an audible pop. Katsuki knew he’d have a hickey when he went into work tomorrow. He didn’t care. If that was going to be his only reminder of his day off with his husband, he’ll take it.

God, husband. It had been years and it still felt surreal.

Ren nuzzled the spot he was sucking on with his nose. “Got a bit carried away,” he said, not sounding in the least apologetic.

Katsuki shrugged. “At least you didn’t use your Quirk.”

. . .

The food was excellent, and as it turns out, both Katsuki and Ren like cannoli. The cream was a bit unfamiliar, but the cookie was very tasty. Ren giggled as Katsuki burped. “It wouldn’t kill you to say ‘excuse me,’ babe,” he joked.

Katsuki huffed out a breath through his nose. “And it wouldn’t kill you to keep your mouth shut for once.” It was a joke, one they were both familiar with, and neither held any hostility for the other. Just affectionate teasing. Well, affectionate on Ren’s side, at any rate. Katsuki was still at least somewhat angry at all times.

Ren took the plates and placed them in the dishwasher, humming to himself. Katsuki followed, offering some help. Ren shook his head. “I know you work a long shift tomorrow, love, and I want you to enjoy as much of your time off as you can.”

“Yeah, but you have the night shift,” Katsuki protested.

Ren shrugged. “So? I can sleep all day in preparation. You can’t. Go rest for once, please.” He kissed Katsuki’s cheek.

Katsuki responded by wrapping his arms around Ren’s shoulders, helping him scrub one of the dishes. “I’ll get bored. And I told you, I wanted to spend time with you today. I intend to fulfill that desire.”

Ren leaned back against the other’s chest, taking a deep breath. “I can’t stop you. I know it’s futile. And I don’t want you to think I don’t enjoy your company or help. I just… worry about you.” He twisted his neck to look Katsuki in the eyes. “You work so hard and it feels like you never take time to enjoy yourself, today excluded- for the most part. You don’t- you don’t have to worry about getting stronger, anymore. We know how strong you are. And we love you for it.” Despite his usage of “we,” both knew Ren meant “I.”

Katsuki sighed. “It’s still not enough,” he admitted. “I know that, logically speaking, I’m never going to surpass Deku while he has One for All. But damn, if part of me still doesn’t want that badly.” He pressed his forehead to Ren’s.

“...you have so much he doesn’t have, and never will,” Ren said quietly, shifting to hug Katsuki properly. “Don’t focus on what you’re not. Focus on here and now.” Katsuki nodded, breathing slowly. “Focus on me, Katsuki. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It came out so easily, so truthful. They moved closer together, even as they were already pressed skin-to-skin. “We should-” “I’ll finish the dishes in the morning,” Ren said quickly. “I’m thinking we might want to take this back to our room…”

“That’s exactly what I was about to suggest,” Katsuki said, hands shifting down to grasp Ren’s waist. “Shit. I love you so much, Ren. Every part of you. Even when you transform. I love you.” Each sentence was punctuated by a kiss, a grinding of hips together. “Fuck, you’re right, let’s go. I’ve been waiting all day.” Ren gasped a little at the sensations his husband gave him, before nodding vigorously. “I knew that was your plan the second you agreed to dessert,” he joked, quickly guiding Katsuki away from the kitchen. Katsuki fumbled to turn off the switch and open the door to the bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed, hands still roaming under shirts, lips occupied with each other’s breaths. “Say it again,” he asked, voice quiet.

“What? That I love you? Are you really that insecure in our relationship? Need I remind you of the fucking wedding rings on our fingers right now?” Katsuki said, somewhat annoyed.

Ren smiled gently, kissing Katsuki. “I just like to hear it. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world to me,” he whispered.

Katsuki softened, finally pulling off Ren’s shirt before his own. “Fuck… then I’ll say it all the time. I love you, Ren. I can’t wait for our next day off.”

“Me either… even if it’s not going to be for quite a while.”

#noodle writes #my commissions #everythingbaku #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x oc #katsuki bakugo fic #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bhna oc #not my oc

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Patreon Tier Reshuffle in February and General 2020 Developments...

I gave my Patrons first look at this post, since some of the changes will affect their tiers (only to add content though!). Now I’m posting most of it to Tumblr for you to look at and perhaps have a think about...

It’s a long post, and I’m sorry for that...

First of all, I’d like to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s supporting me on Patreon, whether you’re a long-time supporter or you just joined. I know it's a big deal to give your heard-earned cash to someone on the internet and am well aware of the responsibility I have and what an honour it is to be on the receiving end of your generosity and support. So, yes. Thank you more than I can probably ever express.

Secondly, a reminder that all tiers have access to our chilled out Discord server forever. We’ve got a channel for sharing photos of pets, for general chat, for monsters, for sharing artwork of all kinds, a library to share your own stories, an nsfw chat, recipes etc., so hopefully there’s something for everyone, but there’s no pressure to be active if you’d rather not be! There’s also an ongoing DnD game with some of the folks on there too, which is fun!

It might be worth joining the server anyway because I have plans for a new perk which will involve Discord (see below), and I also occasionally run ‘Discord Drabbles’ where I ask for prompts on Discord from folks, which you might have seen posted on Patreon from time to time.

Now, finally, round to the topic of this post!

I’ve been thinking about how to make sure that every tier gets the most that I can give them for their money, so I’m going to do a little reshuffle. It will start in February, and I’ve made sure that I’m pretty much just adding stuff to each tier, so you won’t miss out in the reshuffle.

Here are the new things I’m running only on Patreon from February 2020 in addition to everything else (see below):

Sculpt This!

Patrons can submit artwork or detailed descriptions (a creature/monster, a character, an object) to a designated ‘Sculpt This!’ channel on Discord, and I will pick one to sculpt once a month. I will create a post on Patreon with the artwork and the artist’s name (and a link to their page/site if they have one, and photos of my final sculpture based on their design. That will be available to everyone from the $1 tier upwards.

For those on the $5 tier upwards, a short video will be available, featuring footage of the sculpting process itself.

If the person whose art I use is on the $20 tier or upwards, I will post them the sculpture if they’d like it.

Trope Tuesdays!

A poll will go up prior to Tuesday, with a list of common tropes (notably from the world of fanfic – things like ‘coffee shop’, ‘bed-sharing’, ‘enemies to lovers’, ‘5 times +1’ etc. etc.) and the winning trope from that poll will be the theme for a short story to be posted on a Tuesday.

I’m aiming for these short stories to be a variety of fluffy and steamy, available to everyone from the $1 tier up.

Character Letters

$10 and up patrons can request a letter once a month from their favourite characters from any of my stories (providing I wasn’t using someone else's OC for a commission or the like). This can be sent as a PDF by email and/or posted publicly to Patreon only (not Tumblr), with the option to remove the name if you’d rather remain anonymous.

$20 and up patrons can request a hand-written letter once a month from their favourite character, again with the option to have the text posted to Patreon or not, and with their name, or not.

Commissions

I'm still in two minds about opening these up on here because I got absolutely exhausted – mentally and physically – at the end of 2019 and I’m only just recharging again. I had said I would open them up to patrons only in January 2020, and I may yet do that. If I do, I will create 5 slots, and a maximum of 5k words per story initially, and see how that goes. I realise that’s a small number of slots, but it’s still a lot of work for me on top of the rest of the Patreon commitments. I hope you understand, but I know a number of you responded in a poll to say you’d be interested in commissions from me again.

$10 patrons receive 5% off the first 5000 words of writing commissions, and $20 receive 10% off the first 5000 words of commissions.

Continuing rewards:

Monthly story – the monthly exclusive story will still be available for $5 and up (some of these stories have been known to go up to 10k words and be in multiple parts – think Kieran the satyr’s story from October 2018!)

Early release – I will continue to offer all Tumblr stories (except paid commissions from non-patrons and giveaways/specials) on early release – minimum of 4 days, sometimes longer.

Polls – help me decide what to write next

Character bios and artwork

Future things I hope to bring in later this year:

Gaming with Ghosti

I hope to do some streaming via Twitch of me playing things either on the PS4 (like Assassin’s Creed Odyssey or we could do a special Dragon Age: Inquisition playthrough together), or from PC which could include a number of games, from Witcher III (I still haven’t played much) to Mass Effect, chilled out Minecraft sessions, and a huge number of other games which you could choose to inflict on me and watch me flail around in.

Hopefully Mr. Ghosti could join in too and laugh along with you and just generally have a chilled out time. This would probably happen at the weekend, but I’d have to look into the logistics of it if there’s enough interest.

Discount for Patrons on my Etsy shop

It’s actually live right now, but I haven’t got anything listed yet as I’m unsure of the last few things I need to get in place, but once I’ve got things up on there, I’ll make an announcement and give patrons a special discount code to use in case there’s anything you’d like to buy, from jewellery to polymer clay charms/sculptures.

More Q&A type things and video content

Some of you seemed to enjoy the video I did answering your questions, so I could always do more of this, if there are things you’d like to ask! It could be about anything, not just writing. If there’s interest, I’ll look into it.

More milestone giveaways and mystery ‘lucky dip’ giveaways

I love sharing things with you, so when I hit 200 patrons, I’ll have to think up something special, and in the meantime, maybe I’ll do some more giveaways for you.

If there’s something that you would like to see that you think I could put up on Patreon for you, then please get in touch! I’m always looking for ideas

All tier rewards will be as follows from February 2020:

Brand new items in bold, and slight changes in italics:

(putting in a ‘keep reading’ because it’s getting silly now...)

Shadows:

access to the Patreon-only Discord

access to the ‘Trope Tuesdays’ poll and story

access to the ‘Sculpt This!’ posts

access to some character profiles, aesthetics, polls, and story ideas

small discount on my etsy store (when it opens)

and my undying gratitude!

Pixies and Goblins – all of the above, plus:

one Patreon-exclusive monster story per month

access to the ‘Sculpt This!’ process video

access to the extra, long-running story, released once a month (Werewolf story - coming soon!)

early access for all Tumblr monster stories (excluding paid commissions)

the ‘what’s next?’ poll to help me decide what monster or reader to write

Elves – all of the above, plus:

you can request a letter once a month from your favourite character of mine! This can be sent as a PDF by email and/or posted publicly to Patreon only, with the option to remove the name if you’d rather remain anonymous.

entry into the monthly 3k word story commission – if you are chosen (at random) from the Elves tier (and above) you can have a 3k word story of your choosing written for you

access to ‘Writer’s Corner’, featuring occasional blog posts about writing and workshop goings-on

small work-in-progress previews from both my monster stories and my original fantasy fiction ‘Weaver of Threads’

5% off the first 5000 words of writing commissions, and priority placement in the commissions queue

Orcs – all of the above, plus:

you can also request a letter once a month from your favourite character, but yours can also be hand-written and posted to you if you’d like! You also have the option of it being posted to Patreon or not.

One short story (maximum 1500 words) with a monster and reader of your choice per month (by request only), included within your subscription

A PDF version of any monster story I’ve written and published on Patreon or Tumblr (by request, and sent by email)

10% off the first 5000 words of a writing commission

if your design was selected in the ‘Sculpt This!’ feature, I can post the finished sculpture to you, if you’d like to have it.

Dragons – all of the above, plus:

One 5000 word story of your choosing will be written for you per month (no fanfiction) as a thank you for your patronage (by request only)

Entry into the monthly top tiers free story draw but your story is 4k words instead of 3k

20% off the first 5000 words of a writing commission

A character with a name of your choosing (upon approval!) will be added to a monster story

Priority on jewellery and metalwork commissions and a larger discount on my Etsy store (when that opens)

Kaiju – all of the above, plus:

if you win the random free commission, yours is 5k words instead of 3k!

One 7000 word story of your choosing will be written for you per month (no fanfiction) as a thank you for your patronage (by request only)

One hand written letter of thanks (I have nice handwriting, don’t worry!) sent to you by post, including a little short story

25% off the first 5000 words of a writing commission

30% discount on jewellery and metalwork commissions

Dedication by name in any published work (let me know if you wish to remain anonymous)

Hope you’re excited, and don’t forget that you can always get in touch with me on any of my platforms – Patreon, Tumblr, Discord. If you want to share something but also want to remain anonymous, just send an anon to Tumblr and ask me not to post it.

#patreon #exophilia #new stuff #new content #exophilia stories #monster stories #monster boyfriend #monster girlfriend #long post

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fanfictionisliteraturetoo · 5 years ago

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A Supernatural Christmas Carol (Chapter 1)

Series Summary: After a rough year, the reader is having a hard time doing anything besides work. When Dean encourages the reader to celebrate Christmas with Sam and him, the reader declines. After their disagreement, the reader retreats to her room. Throughout the night the reader is visited by four unexpected visitors. Will these visitors be able to help her have a change of heart before it’s too late?

Chapter One Summary: The reader is trying to find a new case, when Dean reminds her it’s Christmas Eve. The reader and Dean have a disagreement about whether or not they should take a break from hunting for the holidays. After their disagreement she returns to her room where she is visited by someone from her past.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst and character death (an OC, no main characters).

Word Count: 2,160+

A/N: This is loosely based on A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I will be writing five chapters to follow the format of the book. This first part doesn’t have much Dean x Reader but the following four parts will. I’m hoping this series will be completed on Christmas Day. Wish me luck. Merry Christmas and Enjoy!

I sat in the war room on my laptop searching for a case, completely unaware that today was Christmas Eve. Earlier this year, I severely injured my left leg which didn’t allow me to do much hunting. On top of my physical injury, my heart was also injured. My sister joined a sinister coven of witches who used their magic for riches, success, and power. After months and months of not hearing from her, she finally reached out to me and asked to meet up. I immediately packed up and headed for Oklahoma where she claimed to be. Once I arrived the situation quickly turned south, and literally went up in flames. My sister was where she said she would be but she wasn’t who I thought she would be. Before I stopped hearing from her, we talked at least once a week. I attempted to keep her distant from my hunting life, to protect her. When she went missing I wasn’t sure if she was dead or alive. As soon as I saw her in that diner I knew something was off. The situation ended with her lighting the diner on fire in an attempt to throw me off her track, but in doing so she almost killed me. That’s when I knew my sister was gone.

These injuries made it difficult to leave the bunker. I often felt stir crazy as I watched Sam and Dean come and go. In an attempt to be helpful, I crafted myself into the bunker’s personal caretaker. With my leg still on the mend I couldn’t do a lot of the heavy lifting but I did manage to do some basic chores along with lots of organizing. Between all the things the Men of Letters had collected, combined with things brought in by the Winchester’s, the bunker needed some serious assistance. However, most of my time was spent in the war room or the library, surrounded by lore books, my laptop, and my journal. I was now the team’s main case finder and researcher. I missed hunting and for now this was as close as I could get. I couldn’t help my sister, but I could help plenty of other people by helping the boys catch monsters.

Today felt no different than any other day. I got up early, made the boys’ breakfast, and started searching for cases. I was coming up dry and had been for days. I was just getting into some weird, but promising, internet pockets when Dean came in.

“Merry Christmas Eve (Y/N)!” Dean cheerfully greeted me as he entered the room.

“Eh it’s just another day” I muttered, as I continued to scroll through tabloids

“It’s just another day? (Y/N) it’s Christmas Eve! You can’t be serious?” He teased.

I had honestly forgotten about Christmas, and even with Dean reminding me I didn’t really care. Working was helping me feel like I was in control. After the year I had, what little control I could gain over my life I quickly took.

“I am Dean. We’re hunters, we don’t really have time for that sort of thing.” I replied, closing my laptop in defeat. I wasn’t going to get anything done at the moment.

“Exactly my point sweetheart,” Dean pulled up a chair beside me and sat down. “We’re hunters. Sometimes we need a little bit of normalcy to balance us out. Plus the holidays are a great excuse for pie!” He laughed.

I simply replied “You can have pie any day,” and stood up to collect my things. Perhaps I could find another spot to do my research.

“Why are you so tense?” Dean questioned, standing up with me.

“What else can I be, when I live in a world full of monsters?” I retorted. “Sure it’s Christmas Eve but people are still dying Dean. People are losing their sanity, their homes, and their family because of the evil that’s out there. The longer we sit here and play house, the more likely it is someone falls victim to another untimely death.” With that I grabbed my things, held them close to my chest, and headed for the exit.

“(Y/N)!” Dean grabbed my shoulder, turning me to face him. I could see his eyes glittering from the tears he was holding back. I knew I had hurt him, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I was not going to change my mind. There was too much at stake for me to worry about the holidays.

“Dean! You can celebrate Christmas if you want to, just leave me out of it.” I curtly replied, causing Dean’s hand to drop off my shoulder. I wanted to run to my room while I had the chance but I could tell he wasn’t done with this conversation yet.

“Listen, this job is hard (Y/N), but a lot of good comes from it. Every time we gank some douchebag the world is a slightly better place. I know that sometimes it feels like a never-ending battle, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. However, I also know how important it is to rest up occasionally so you don’t burn out. And on top of that I know that it’s important to open up to others, so that the darkness you fight daily doesn’t get bottled up, until you can’t handle it anymore,” He paused. “(Y/N) I know you’re trying to make up for the terrible year you’ve had, but you’re turning into someone I don’t recognize. I’m worried about you, hell we’re all worried about you! There’s no way for me to understand everything you’re going through, but I do know what it’s like to lose people. Please let me help you?” Dean’s words made my heart wrench. I couldn’t open up to him. It wouldn’t solve anything and it would cause me to lose focus.

Before Dean finished speaking, I heard Sam enter the room behind me. He must have been standing there for a while, unsure whether or not he should come in and join the conversation. Sam went immediately to Dean’s side and crossed his arms. Once Dean was finished, Sam spoke up.

“Dean’s right (Y/N), we are worried about you. We just want to help.” Sam delicately declared.

For some reason what Sam said struck my nerves. Perhaps it was due to the thoughts of my sister plaguing my mind or perhaps it was due to something else. Deep down I knew both of them were trying to help. I knew that I shouldn’t lash out at them. Unfortunately for them, my anger and sadness overcame my logical thoughts.

“I didn’t ask either of you to be worried about me,” was all I could say. I turned around and briskly headed towards my room. I could feel Sam and Dean’s eyes on my back. The whole ordeal made my heart feel like it was in my throat. Breathing became difficult, and upon arriving to my room I quickly closed and locked my door. To my despair, I put my studies aside and dropped onto my bed. Of course I was disappointed in that interaction with the boys, but I couldn’t let that get in the way of my work. Once I caught my breath I sat up, went over to my desk, and dove back in.

Eventually, I came across a blog that claimed to be a dedicated witch tracking blog. Thoughts of my sister continued to consume me. I tried to read through the blog, but my mind would not focus. I turned off my laptop and set it aside, then bent down and picked up the Celtic legends book on my floor. Hoping that reading would pull my mind somewhere else, I opened the book to where I left off. For a few moments I was able to read without any problems but the words quickly became difficult to understand, just as the webpage had done. I reread the page in front of me a few times with no luck.

“Whatever,” I grumbled, placing the book down. I rubbed my temples in the hopes that I could get myself to focus on the task at hand. When I picked up the book again I was shocked by what I saw. The golden design on the cover had completely shifted its shape. I threw it down and scooted away, trying to observe it from afar. I blinked a few times but the image remained the same. The golden spirals now curled elegantly to form a portrait of my sister. I had used this book plenty of times before and it had never changed like this.

Even though she was made of golden swirls, she looked the same. Beautiful tresses of hair framing her face, full lips, and eyes that pierced the soul of whoever looked into them. I decided to scoot closer to investigate, my eyes fixed on the book, when suddenly the design was normal again.

To say I wasn’t frightened would be a lie. But I sat down anyway and tried to get back to work. I picked up the book and inspected it, half expecting the cover to change again. But there was nothing on either side. No image of my sister remained. The stress from fighting with Sam and Dean combined with the overall stress from this year was getting to me. I read for a while longer and somewhere along the way fell asleep at my desk. I started to wake up as a chill filled my room.

When I sat up to move to my bed, I could see my breath. This was not normal for the bunker and I started to get nervous. I shoved my hands under my mattress in search of my rock salt gun, but it was nowhere to be found. Just as I was about to call out for Dean, a figure appeared before me.

To my shock and horror, it was my sister. She looked similar to how I had seen her last, but instead of looking angry she looked sad and instead of being tangible she was transparent. I felt sick to my stomach and even though I wanted to scream, I couldn’t bring myself to say or do anything. I was paralyzed with fear and confusion.

“I really am here, in case you’re wondering. And yes, I am dead” She said while we observed each other from across the room.

“Um…sit down…sit down” I motioned towards my desk chair. She sat down across from me while I sat on my bed. “What happened? Why are you here?” I asked, still unsure if I was awake or if I was having another nightmare.

“What happened? Basically everything you said would happen.” She laughed. “The other witches felt threatened by me, then they plotted against me. Not only did they kill me, but they tethered my spirit to roam the earth. A spiritual ball and chain if you will. I haven’t been able to figure out how to get rid of it yet.” She explained. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to apologize to you and help you before I turn into a vengeful spirit. I know now that everything you did was to protect me, I just couldn’t see it at the time. I am so sorry (Y/N). I threw my life away. I don’t want you to secure the same fate as me.” I began to cry as she spoke. My sister had been dead to me for months, but now she was actually a spirit sitting across from me. What was I supposed to do with that?

“Sis…I am going to everything I can to find those witches….and I will find a way to unchain you,” I sobbed.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Like I said, that’s not why I came here (Y/N). I am not the only visitor you will have tonight. Three more spirits will come to you. They each have a message for you. If you do not listen to them, you will never be able to overcome the challenges that lie ahead. Starting at midnight and following one hour after the next, they will come to give you their messages.”

“Why can’t they come all at once? Who are they?” My heart was racing. Usually when I interacted with ghosts they were already at the vengeful stage. It was worrisome to me to deal with spirits in this way.

“Remember what I’ve said already. Don’t throw your life away. And Sis, I love you. Good luck.” And with that she stood up and backed away. I shot up and tried to chase after her, but I wasn’t fast enough. She was gone.

Whether if it was due to the fatigues of the day or the interaction with my ghostly sister, or how late it was, or most likely a combination of all of these things, I went straight to bed. I felt greatly disturbed but sleep overcame me quickly.

#dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural christmas #spn christmas #a christmas carol #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #christmas #A Supernatural Christmas Carol

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lycorogue · 5 years ago

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New Story: Love Taps

I did it! I was stumped for a little bit there as I focused on my Meet My OCs series and my blog post (which I still haven’t written for this week), but I managed to write up my monthly completed piece of fiction! Whoot!

I jumped fandoms a touch here, but you have to follow inspiration, right?

So, I’d like to present to you my first Fruits Basket fanfic.

You can also read Love Taps at any of these three sites: on AO3, on FFN, or on DA

This story is dedicated to @chibisunnie for inspiring the plot bunny in the first place. It’s always gold when we get to chat! :D

**Disclaimer: I haven't had the chance to start up Fruits Basket Another or the Three Musketeers Arc, so I'm sorry if I have some inconsistencies. I tried my best via the wiki pages... ***UPDATE: I have now read FBA and there ARE inconsistencies, mostly with Hajime and Sawa’s personalities, and I don’t really ship them now that I’ve read the story buuuuut I’m leaving this unedited. Oh well....

Also, this story is about Adult Tohru, so there will be spoilers if you don’t know who Hajime is.

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Love Taps

Kyo's little head bonks carry more meaning and more love than anyone could ever truly know. Anyone besides maybe Tohru, who reflects on an entire lifetime of receiving the loving raps on the noggin.

One-shot

Word Count: 2952 Rating: General Audiences

**Warning: Contains lots of fluff, you might want your dentist on stand-by

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I think I've always known, at some level, that his little bonks on my head were a sign of his affection. It's very fitting for him; to show love with his fists, but in a gentle manner. Those head bonks have always been so dear to me, because they proved that he saw my faults, but wanted a connection to me anyway.

"Kyo? Kyo! I- I think my water just broke! Oh no! What do I do? I know we studied this, but it's really happening!" I paced in a tight little circle, liquid dripping down my leg. "Should I clean this up so it won't stain? Should I go change? I probably need to soak my clothes so they won't stain. Do I have time to do so? Do we have the overnight bag packed? Is my mother's picture in the bag?" I held my pregnant belly as I leaked further onto the floor, unsure which direction to go. That's when I got that delicate bonk on the crown of my head. It startled me still, made me blink a few times as I re-focused, and arched my head back.

"You need to just focus on you and the kid. I've got everything else, you hear me? You always find a way to worry about the wrong things." Kyo already had our overnight bag slung over his shoulder, and was moving to grab my mother's picture to place inside the bag. "Now, if you feel gross, go wash off your legs, otherwise, we should get going."

"Um, I- I don't want to get the seats messy."

"I already have towels so you won't, but we do have a minute for you to wash if you stop dawdling."

I shook my head. "No. I'll be fine. We should get going."

He then smiled at me. "You're going to do amazing." He walked over, wrapped his free arm around my waist, and rested his forehead on mine. "Remember how insanely strong you are the whole time, okay?"

As I nodded, he ushered me out the door so we could meet our son.

That was the beauty of those head bumps. He wanted me to focus. He wanted to help reset me as my world was spinning around me; when I wasn't focusing on the right things, or when I wasn't focusing at all. They were never rough, and they weren't judgmental. Instead, they were always filled with love. In fact, I think I blushed the first time he bonked the side of my head because I knew the love he shared with that action. Part of me must have known that those bonks carried words Kyo couldn't quite say.

Words like 'you worry too much' or 'you need to focus so you'll be safe' or 'I like having you around' or 'please, don't leave me' or even 'you know I love you, right?' Sometimes, they carried the question that weighed the most on Kyo's mind: 'How could you possibly love someone so much?'

"Tohru, we have to go." Kyo sighed as he leaned against the classroom door. He gave an apologetic shrug and head shake towards the teacher.

"It's my baby's first day!" I squeezed our son close to me, and his little arms wrapped around me just as tight. "It's going to be a full day without seeing his adorable face, or hearing his sweet voice, or running around the yard with him."

"I want you to stay, Mama!" Hajime nuzzled his head into my shoulder. "Can't you go to school with me?"

"Okay, enough of this." Kyo softly grumbled. He then took strong and pointed steps towards us before – bonk, bonk – both Hajime and I got little knuckle raps on the sides of our head.

We both blinked, and pulled away from each other as we tried to register what just happened. We turned to Kyo, who blew out a calming breath before resting his hands on our son's shoulders, centering him to face his father.

"You know how a lot of people come to visit us, just to hang out? Just because they miss us?"

Hajime nodded as he wiped a couple of tears away.

"Those are all of your mother's friends-"

"Kyo-" They weren't just my friends. They were his as well, and more importantly, they were his family; I was just the one lucky enough to join that loving clan.

Kyo held up his hand to still my protest. "Those are your mother's friends, and she helped them become mine as well. Do you want lots and lots of friends like her?"

Hajime nodded vigorously, borderline comically.

"Well, then you need to be kind like she is. And you need to be welcoming. Most importantly, you need to talk to them, and show them your big heart. It may not work at first. You may be teased, but you'll then find others just as kind as you, and they'll be your friends for life. Then you won't need anyone else. You got that?"

"Uh-huh."

"It won't work if you are only with your mother, though. Now, turn around." Kyo physically pivoted Hajime so they were both looking into the classroom, Kyo kneeling behind our son and whispering into his ear. "Look at how many friends could be waiting for you in this room. Don't you want to meet them?"

"I do!" Hajime bounced on his toes, a grin stretching almost impossibly far across his face.

"Then go meet them, and we'll see you once school is done. Okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." Hajime squeezed both of us tight before turning and sprinting off to meet his classmates.

"As for you." Kyo stood, and held out his hands to lift me to my feet as well. "He'll be fine, and you need to trust that he'll be fine." He discretely tapped my chest just above my heart. "Just as your mother is always with you, know that you're always with him; watching over him, even when you can't physically be there. Besides, he's in good hands, isn't he?" He addressed the teacher, who looked slightly less exasperated now that my overly-affectionate display had ended. The teacher nodded and gave us a small smile.

"Okay, we can go." I hugged Kyo's forearm to prevent me from shooting forward and scooping up our beautiful child again. Resting his head on the top of mine, Kyo escorted me out of the classroom.

That was probably the greatest thing about those head bonks. They were an anchor. They helped ground me, and even Hajime on occasion. When I was being tossed about in a sea of emotions, Kyo's raps on the side of my head kept me from floating off. Kept me from floating away from reason; floating away from public decency; floating away from alertness; floating away from reality, even.

As I grew older and more mature, the less I needed that anchor; Kyo simply existing in my life was enough. He taught me how to be more alert; how to stay more focused on what truly was important. Having Hajime also helped greatly with that. Soon, Kyo only bonked me on the head once a month. Once a season. Eventually, I realized he had only rapped me on the head once that whole year. Part of me wondered if I should purposely start to let myself drift again; daydream again. Something to call out for Kyo to tap the side of my head. Because I missed it.

I think he missed that connection as well. We hugged. We kissed. We held hands. We snuggled next to each other. None of it was quite the same though, as much as I loved all of it. I think he felt the same way, because the meaning of the tap changed. It now became more of a way to silently tell me 'I know' or 'I feel the same way' or 'it hurts me too, but we'll manage.'

"Uh, I guess he forgot about me?" Sawa-chan shook her head and hid an exasperated chuckle behind her bridal bouquet. Kyo stood beside her, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe how grown up you are!" I nuzzled Hajime's cheek with my own and held him close. My make-up was probably ruined from sobbing all day, but I didn't care. "You found yourself a wonderful girl, and I'm so proud of you!"

"Tohru," Kyo growled. "Must you?"

"But he's married now! Our baby's all grown up, and I couldn't be prouder of him. And look at how handsome he is! He reminds me of you when we got married."

"Do you really think so, Mom?" Hajime's voice squeaked and he pulled me in closer. "I'm only this amazing, and know how to include such fantastic people in my life, because of you and Dad. You truly are the best, Mom. I couldn't do any of this without you."

We started crying into each other's arms, and I only just barely heard Sawa-chan squeaking an "um" before I felt that head bonk. I pulled away from my son, and saw his blank expression as he also tried to comprehend what just happened.

"You two are pathetic, you know that, right?" Kyo shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "It's not like we're never seeing him again, and it's not like we don't have other kids for you to dote on. Let the boy grow up, will ya?" He then grabbed Hajime's left bicep, and yanked him from my arms. In a swift motion he shoved our son on the back; just enough to push him into his wife. "That's the woman you should be smothering with hugs!"

"No, I get it," Sawa-chan joked, "I'll always be second-fiddle to Haa-chan's mother."

"Pfft, don't call me by that nickname." Hajime scoffed, but there was the same twinkle in his eye Kyo used to have whenever he tried to pretend he didn't appreciate my affection.

Sawa-chan didn't seem deterred, and she pulled him into a chaste kiss to lure him into a hug and quick dance.

"And as for you," Kyo came back over and placed his hand on the top of my head, palming it like a basketball. "Let the kids have their day, will ya? Come on, let's enjoy the party." He then started walking away, pulling me along by the head. It kept me a couple of hops to catch my balance, and after a few paces he shifted his hand from my scalp to my back. He gently directed me to a corner, where he kissed me, whispered to me how much the day reminded him of our wedding, and we danced to the slow song playing.

He had felt the same pain I did. That same longing for our little boy again. He couldn't handle Hajime being old enough to marry either. Yet he was strong, and he helped me stay strong that day as well. He let me know with that head tap that it wasn't the time to be sad. It was the time to look ahead at the wonderful life our son was about to start. A wonderful life that somehow lead to me getting frequent head bonks again.

"We're not going to have this battle every time, are we?" Sawa-chan arched her eyebrows as she looked over at Hajime.

"Sorry, dear, but I don't think it can really be helped. I mean, look at her?" Hajime gestured towards me cradling my granddaughter, my eyes overflowing with tears. "Would you want to give her up?"

"Kyo!" I whined, "Don't make me give her back! She's just too precious. Aren't you just in love? How could you not see her every day?"

"Tohru-san," Sawa-chan again reached for her daughter. "We really must be getting home to put her to bed. We'll visit more often, I promise."

I pulled her closer to me and smelled her hair. "I just need a few more minutes. Or you three could spend the night. We can make space for them, can't we, Kyo?" As I looked up at him I saw a small sneer as he swung to bonk me on the top of the head. It was the first one that hurt in decades.

"Don't be an idiot. She's their child and they can take her whenever they want. And our son is grown now, with his own house and own family. They don't need to stick around here if they prefer to be in their own beds tonight."

I sniffled and slowly gave my granddaughter back to Sawa-chan, who was cautiously watching Kyo. Hajime rested a hand on his wife's shoulder to re-focus her, and she accepted her baby girl. Then the kids gave me kind smiles, which helped ease the mild throbbing of where Kyo had hit me.

"Sorry. Kyo's right. I shouldn't have imposed on you."

"No problem, Mom. We appreciate that you love her so much." Hajime scooped his wife and daughter into his arms, and my heart swelled.

Kyo mimicked our son, pulling me into an embrace as he kissed where he hit my head. "It's alright to be selfish sometimes, but you can't be selfish about spending time with people, especially if it means kidnapping our grandkid."

In truth, I nearly 'kidnapped' – as Kyo put it – our granddaughter loads of times. It was just so hard to let her go. She was such a sweet dear. All of our grandchildren were, and I was getting quite a lumpy head from the amount of times Kyo had to knock me to remind me to give them back to their parents. I didn't mind it, though. I truly did miss that special connection that only came from Kyo's playful bops on the head. It wasn't terribly too long before our youngest grandchild was in junior high, and 'kidnappings' weren't as much of an issue. They were all old enough to leave of their own accord.

Still, Kyo discovered plenty of emotional moments to reprimand me: When our children each graduated from high school, and then college; when they each got married, and when they each had their first child; for every additional child they had; nearly every visit with our grandchildren; and the realizations of how old each grandchild was getting. One of the last, however, was when we had to move.

I sat out on our front porch, overlooking the hilltop scenery we've enjoyed for about fifty-years. It reminded me so much of Shigure-san's home, and all the happy memories I had there. Now, in this home Kyo and I had shared for our entire marriage, there were almost too many happy memories to recall them all. I let my mind wander as I watched the sunset, knowing I didn't have many more to enjoy from this vantage.

BONK!

Although the tap on my head didn't hurt, I still rubbed the spot with both hands. I looked over my shoulder and saw Kyo lowering himself to the porch, these days he took much greater care whenever he had to shift from standing to sitting and back again. A little grunt escaped his throat.

"You were daydreaming."

"S-sorry." I continued to rub where he tapped me.

"Daydreaming's fine, but you looked sad while doing so." He dusted his hands off on his pants, then rubbed his left knee.

"I'm sorry we have to move because of me." I straightened the blanket on my lap and watched as Kyo moved to massage his left ankle.

"Tohru, we're old, it happens. I'd much rather we move in with one of the kids instead of you straining to get up that hill every day. It doesn't matter to me that we're moving, as long as you're comfortable and we're together."

"You don't seem to have much difficulty with the hill."

"I also work out far more routinely and with more intensity than you. It kept my muscles strong. You're seventy-three; it's not a shame that you can't climb up a hundred steps each day."

"I just hate the idea of leaving our memories behind; abandoning our castle like this."

I heard another grunt as Kyo shifted so he was kneeling beside me instead of sitting. With a swift swing and a pull-back last second, he once more rapped my head gently with the back of his hand. He then pulled my head to his shoulder so he could run his fingers through my hair.

"My sweet idiot. You think we can't pack up the memories with us? Did you forget your mom once you had to leave your apartment? Did you forget your months living out of a tent? Are you having difficulties recalling life with your grandfather, or any of the time you spent getting to know me and the other Zodiacs?"

"N-no."

"The memories don't live here." He gestured to the house behind us. "Memories live here-" He rested his index finger on my chest, right where my heart would sit. "-and here." He again tapped on my head. "And don't think for an instant that I'll allow you to forget."

I rested my head on his shoulder and re-focused on the sunset. "Thank you, Kyo. Hey, Kyo?"

"Hmm?"

"You think it's alright if I daydream some more? It's such a lovely evening for it."

"Yeah, you idiot. You can zone out all you want. I'm here." He pulled me in for a kiss on my temple, and he grunted once more as he settled back into a lounge beside me. As we snuggled and enjoyed the orange glow of the sunset, my mind wandered to pleasant thoughts. Such as needing Kyo to bonk me on the head.

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