#wrote this one month ago while insanely stoned | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heyhoeudoin · 5 months ago

Text

TIMES SENKU TALKED ABOUT YOU

"I will always be by your side."

pairing: senku ishigami x fem!reader

words: 9.2k

genre/s: fluff, mystery, storytelling in the third perspective (special ep, s3, s4), slight angst

warning/s: she/her, swearing, ambiguous/not direct ending

synopsis: there is always someone next to senku, all the time.

masterlist ; loyalty built from love (part 1)

a/n: jokes on you guys, i was already writing a part two even before i got many requests for it. also, i wrote part 1 like months ago and it took months to write as well, so when i re-read it for part 2, part 1 was so ambiguously written good that even i have no idea what the hell i was going for.

also, don't be shy to give any comments, because i am reading those and i love them all <3

anyone could tell that senku misses you

like a lot...

to the point that he mentions you

a lot...

it was rather endearing to the people around him

it's cute that senku still remains the habit of talking about you whenever you're not physically with him

yuzuriha always liked that habit of his

she will never not be bothered by it, she's used to it after all

he would always at least mention you once a day

he just loves talking about you

it's really endearing and an adorable side to the usually unaffectionate friend of hers

"the first balloon that humanity took flight in was made of hemp cloth," shared senku as gen let out an awed noise. "the one massive ordeal to overcome is..."

"right..." yuzuriha raised her hand. "you need a crap ton of cloth, don't you?" she asked with a slightly painful look on her face, already knowing the work she's going to put into.

"oh, look!" senku pointed at yuzuriha with a devilish expression. "i totally didn't realize! we've got the crafts club here!" yuzuriha jabbed a fist at his chest.

senku and kaseki then got onto the floor and bowed, performing a dogeza. "the science team will commit itself to designing the passenger basket," senku explained in a robot manner.

"we'll make any tools you need," kaseki tells her, raising his head.

"can i leave the cloth making to you? to the yuzuriha crafts team?" senku confidently asked, raising his head.

yuzuriha nods as senku stood up and the two shared a high-five. "of course you can!" she exclaimed with a peace sign.

"i could've had y/n help you with this. well actually, i think she would've helped immediately without me saying anything, but..." senku trailed off, but yuzuriha understood what he's trying to say.

she placed a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. "i know, senku. it's fine! i've got it handled."

later on yuzuriha asked senku and kaseki to make a loom to get things going a bit faster and easier. as she waited, senku called, "hey, it's done." she turned around expecting a simpler loom, but it was not. she let out a surprised noise, falling onto the ground. a pleasant surprise, she was given.

"was this not what you were expecting, yuzuriha-chan?" kaseki asks, a bit worried.

"we didn't have much time," says senku, looking a bit worried too. "did you want an electric one? maybe i should've. y/n would have my head seeing i didn't immediately make an electric one for you."

yuzuriha hurriedly dismissed their worry. "no! no! i appreciate it a lot!"

"they're the senku department store's first high-end products. it might be a while before they start selling," says gen, looking at the racks that held an assortment of clothes and the people that looked around the new place.

"y/n would've love this," senku absentmindedly mentions. "she would've easily volunteered for that fashion show too."

gen turned to senku as if he grew a head.

"oh, also, hand them out to anyone who works," senku then tells gen. "we have a living manifestation of greed who'll buy just about anything."

that was first time gen heard senku talk about you as if he's some clingy boyfriend that misses his girlfriend, he thought he was finally going insane in the stone world

he genuinely would have never thought that senku's the type to be like that when it comes to relationships

which was already shocking in of itself

he truly never expected to have "senku" and "relationship/boyfriend/girlfriend" in the same sentence

are you two really just boyfriend and girlfriend though?

it doesn't seem right to call you and senku, girlfriend and boyfriend

it feels like the two of you have something more

ryusui never met you

of course because when the fuck would he ever

but he has been in the same room as you a few times

people from the "rich, noble, important" families would hold these galas for the "high-class", and you attended some of them for connecting purposes

he, on the other hand, attended most of these which made it possible for him to have seen you in person a few time

though, he never dared interact with you

he only stared at you from afar in awe

it was also an added bonus that because of one of these galas, your family ended up connecting with his family through buying yachts

though, other than that, the nanami conglomerate and the l/n family has no other connection than a business one

and so when senku mentioned your name...

he didn't know what to think when senku mentioned you as if you were an old friend

and judging by chrome's reaction, it seems that the scientist has mentioned you a few times already

"we're in the sky, protected by nothing but our own skin and flesh. you don't get this kind of extravagance anywhere else," he says, looking on the horizon they are given from the air balloon. "not this unique sensation."

"yeah," senku agreed. "y/n would love to be here right now, but sucks to be her for not being here." he cackled out a laughter as chrome turned to him and gave him a light jab.

"seriously?" he deadpanned, but then got distracted by a flock of bird, flying pass the balloon. "we're with the birds!" he exclaimed.

actually, did he even refer to you as if you were an old friend?

it almost felt like he referred to you as if you were dead...

and in a manner that only a really close friend has the rights to do

ryusui didn't believe that though

i mean, how could he?

you dead?

it's ridiculous (utterly ridiculous)

he can see the reasons on why senku has survived and thrived

he also knows the reasons on why you, too, are just as capable of surviving and thriving

so where are you really?

"it's as good as bread from a popular modern shop," senku says after taking a bite out of the stollen that francois just baked. "it'll last to the other side of the planet, and it's good as hell. a perfect food that i've been dying to have and we've got it now!"

"greed equals justice," is all what francois says.

"y/n's really missing out," senku absentmindedly called out. "she would've devoured these so fast, well, as much as her stomach can handle." he smiled fondly at the thought

gen turned to him and asked, "does she like bread that much?"

"loves them even more so than the average person," senku says with a tired expression from just thinking about it. "that girl dragged me around the globe just to have a damn bread tour."

francois wasn't sure if they had heard the scientist correctly

did senku just refer to you like you two are old friends?

you?

a member of the most powerful family in the entirety of japan?

the eldest of the said family?

the next in line?

the hidden treasure of japan?

it was strange

they were confused on why senku would have connections to you

and judging from gen's casual follow-up question, your name has been brought up more than once by senku

but it wasn't their job to be curious and to question the lives of others

their job was to serve ryusui-sama

and for the sake of the nanami conglomerate, ishigami senku is an absolute want

minami, being the journalist she is, are one of the only few people that knows you a bit better than most

after all, she was handpicked by the l/n family to be one of the few media representation for your first ever media debut

it was groundbreaking for her career

and it also broke the entirety of japan

you had revealed then that you will not be accepting any courting, and offers of marriage because you had already found the person you'd spend your life with

no one knew who you were talking about

she remembered the massive wave of investigation happening shortly after the publication of that interview done by... everyone, really

no one ever figured it out who this person was

...or is

maybe she's the first amongst reporters to finally figure it out

"at least let me take the first picture for memory's sake!" exclaimed minami with an embarrassed expression.

"perfectly fair," voiced ukyo and gen.

ryusui laughed, raising his hand in the air. "i'm buying the photo, model rights, and all!" he declared.

minami turned to him, angry, baring teeth. "why should the first photo be yours?!"

"what are you talking about?" he asked. "it's a record of the beginning of technological civilization. it should be senku, obviously. am i right?"

senku owlishly stared at ryusui and minami.

"an exhibit at the nanami museum, representing the history of the new world." ryusui walked over to where senku stood with all the other cameras.

senku stuck a pinky into his ear. "what are you talking about?" he asked. "if anything, the first picture should be y/n." a wave of silence rose amongst the revived people. they know fully well that what senku had said was absolutely correct.

but they also know that it won't be possible right now.

the scientist sighs, breaking the silence. "it's too bad she's frozen shut right now," he mocked casually with a teasing grin.

"i think you're the only one who can joke about her like that," gen commented with a slightly awkward chuckle.

in the end, senku had the honors of being the first person photographed in the stone age, posing the famous einstein pose and minami had the honors of photographing the first picture in the stone age

but that wasn't the only thing that she got from this

she's always listening, you know? and there was one thing that stood out from the banter around her

no one in japan would have the courage, the boldness to joke around your name like senku had just did

not to your face nor behind your back

and yet senku, being the man of knowledge he is, is bold enough to do so

why is that?

was gen right?

that senku really is the only person who can joke about you like that?

since the surrender of tsukasa, there were many rumors she had heard about the two of you and it was all the same thing

that you and senku have something going on

she refuses to believe those rumors

she's a journalist—she shouldn't be believing in those rumors!

her motto is to find the truth

and the truth she will find sooner or later (when she gets the guts to ask you)

when they found the oil, obviously they had to test it out

gen was the one conducting the test drive (because he's the only one with drivers license)

then taiju dropped by, getting a whiff of that oily smell

"hey! it's the love potion," commented taiju. "are you going to give it to someone, senku?"

the people there were confused on what taiju had meant. "what are you talking about, taiju-chan?" asked gen.

"you made some for me that day, remember?" taiju says as his mind took him back to the day it all started. "so that i would have the confidence to confess to yuzuriha. you also said it worked out for you and y/n because of it. it was the last moment we had before we all got petrified."

senku ended up cackling afterwards. "i did! i said that! i told you it was a love potion! you still believe that, you meathead?! that was gasoline!"

"what?! it was?!"

"also, no way in hell would i ever use something on y/n unless she forces me in another of her batshit insane experiments," senku deadpanned. "but if you think it smells the same with no prior knowledge—"

now, gen is totally one to assume

and what senku said kind of sounded like an implication...

in both that way and a completely different way

although, if it was that way then, knowing senku, he would have never mentioned it

so it was probably an actual batshit insane thing

why does gen feel like his image of you will be changed while they're here

a small moment of reference when yo was whispering some shit to gen, pinning senku as some sort of mad lad

well, he kind of is but...

"i'm pretty sure he's wack," whispered yo to gen. both sweating.

"nah, y/n's the one who's wack between she and i. i've still got my mind intact, just barely," senku retorted, looking back at the two.

when valentines came, gen had an interesting answer to his question

"ah, valentine's day," mused gen as kohaku repeated it, confused. "yeah, events are important. for the drago—i mean, for the morale."

senku and yuzuriha went out of the laboratory, handing out the chocolates. gen turned to senku with a question in mind. "do you give chocolates to y/n-chan, senku-chan?"

senku shook his head. "nah, y/n doesn't really like them," he answered which shocked gen. "she'd rather have things that she could wear or practical gifts."

see

look at that

that gave a lot to gen

senku practically confirmed that he gives gifts to you!

and also does so on VALENTINES

if that's not confirmation of being a couple, he doesn't know what is

but then again...

like he had thought before, it doesn't feel like the two you are just boyfriend and girlfriends

but what other kind of relationship would still condone in the valentines romance gift giving?

shouldn't there be some kind of answers by now?

then after they took the group photo with the finished ship

senku looked a bit... down? contemplated?

it was strange to see

why would he be feeling down?

it was quite obvious as well

"are you unsatisfied about the pictures, senku?" asked minami, holding her camera.

"nah, i don't care about that," answered senku.

"then what's got you so down, senku-chan?" asked gen.

senku stared off in the direction of where the tsukasa empire was with a somber look. gen immediately understood from that alone. "take lots of pictures when y/n comes back, journalass," senku told her as he walked off towards the ship.

everyone knew that you barely had any pictures

after all, you were called the hidden treasure of japan

you probably told senku how you felt about it, and he remembers

gen thought it was sweet

minami felt herself gushing about it

when ryusui called upon the people who were needed on the expedition, it was gen's turn to come aboard.

and, to be perfectly clear, tsukasa was left behind by choice because he felt obliged to protect the kingdom of science since most of the battle team were coming along to the perseus

"uh, you don't need me, do you?" asked gen, frantically. "i've got the strength of a bean sprout."

"we don't know what kinds of enemies we're going to meet. what good is a mentalist if they aren't there when that happens, dumbass?" explained senku. "i'd have y/n instead of you if she wasn't being frozen away like a piece of salami."

the modern people felt cultural shock at the casual way of senku playing around your name, but at the same time they feel that they should get used to it.

"ah so i'm just a second choice, huh?" mused gen as he trekked up towards the ship.

"of course you are," senku answered without thinking. "it's always y/n first to me."

the crowd who watched the take off of the ship awed at the display of loyalty senku accidentally announced. gen started grinning, knowing full well that he caused senku to slip like that. senku then grimaced at what he said even thought it's true.

maybe senku should dial back a bit...

ryusui also knows now that you're very much alive somewhere in the kingdom of science

he just doesn't know why you're not physically present

also, did his ears deceive him or did senku just practically confess his feelings for you?

but it wasn't that...

judging from the way the people present cooed at his confession and how gen was smirking like he set it up on purpose

was there something else between the two of you?

this time, it was yuzuriha who shared something about you

"these kinds of people are always dying to show you the machines they tuned the hell out of," says nikki, looking sympathetic.

"they won't let you go until their done," kohaku added.

"i'll be alright!" yuzuriha clarified, making kohaku and nikki shocked. "i always sat through senku-kun's five hour rocket lectures and stuff."

"we have a veteran here!" exclaimed nikki, still looking shock with kohaku.

yuzuriha laughs at that. "if you think i'm a veteran, then y/n must be something else! she always did listen to him..." she mused with a fond smile.

senku smiled as well from that comment.

yuzuriha may not be as close to you as she is to senku, but she completely adores you!

...after getting over the fact that you're the y/n l/n

you were like... any other person, just a bit clueless in other areas

actually, you were a lot like senku in a lot of ways

it's a good portion of the reason why the two of you have the relationship that you two have grown to have

this time, gen was the one to first mention you to amaryllis

albeit in a more... implied upbringing

despite not actually knowing if you two are intertwined or not

but he's very confident that you two are

"that kind of attack isn't going to work on senku-chan," he says. "he's already married, you know?"

and then he went scummy

to which kohaku shouted and hit at him for

and then she later scolded herself after forcing a kiss on senku to save her own ass

she kneeled on the ground and slammed her head on the floor in a dogeza position, facing the direction of ishigami village. "i am sorry, y/n. i will be held responsible for this action, and i will allow you to give me whatever punishment is deemed necessary."

senku sighed, sticking a finger in his pinky, looking exasperated. "y/n's reasonable, calm down, she won't be that mad." his eyes looking far away in the same direction as if thinking of something himself for you.

while senku was making conditioner for kohaku, he mentions you

"y/n's actually been nagging me about making hair stuff for a while now," senku commented while making the hair products. "she always had this specific routine for her hair."

amaryllis didn't know who you are. "is she the one who's married to him?" she asked gen.

"yes," he answered. "y/n-chan is a very powerful person. she's probably even stronger than the strongest soldiers here on the island."

"really?!"

senku glanced at the implied threat gen displayed with an unamused look, but let him does so anyways. it's true, after all.

when amaryllis tried to girlie-fy the boys,

"you know, y/n would actually be impressed that you could fake being a girl like that," senku mentions, crossing his arms on his chest after washing off the makeup on his face.

"really?"

"she'd probably even call you—in her words—a tall baddie." senku made a grimace as he said that.

then when the two girls and one boy dressed like a girl left, gen mentioned your name to start a conversation

"if only we have y/n-chan, huh?" gen comments.

senku shook his head. "nah, she wouldn't do that," he says. "although if she was here, she'd probably go all stealth instead."

"are they really..."

"i'm not answering any questions you have about them."

"so you do know!"

gen was inspecting the earpiece, amazed and shocked by how simple it can be done

and then, of course, senku mentions you

"it was y/n who actually taught me how to make that," senku commented. "i don't know why she bothered learning to make one when she could literally buy the best one, but she said she liked how simple and cosmetic it can be if made like this. though, i'm glad she taught it to me now because it certainly useful for this."

"of course this is y/n-chan's design, not yours," says gen, holding it up in front of him.

as senku looked through the pile of gold dust

as the pile of platinum grew

it was the first time he felt vulnerable since you had been frozen shut

he isn't one to be all emotional, but at moments like these... it really showed just how much care byakuya had for him

senku scoffs. "if y/n was here, she'd be bawling her eyes out," he says, his eyes a bit glassy himself.

"you counting seconds all that time, and your papa collecting sand for decades..." gen looked wistful. "you two are alike."

once the team were able to make the revival fluid, the thought of reviving their stoned comrades were first in the list

senku ordered kohaku to cleanly cut the greedy captain when given the chance

afterwards, ryusui's stone parts were delivered to them

"i've always known you're ridiculously rational, but... but still you're practically psycho at this point!" screamed gen after figuring out what's happening.

senku shook his head with a smirk. "nah, y/n's the psycho one between us," he corrected. "if she was given parts like these, she'd be experimenting, mix-and-matching them. i'd be the only one to get her to stop."

"every time you say things about y/n-chan that she's a psycho and all, it ruins the image i have of her and i can't help but not believe you," gen bluntly replied. "except you're the only one that knows who she really is, so i have to believe you."

senku cackled.

when kohaku was fighting against moz, all she could think about was how he's nothing compared to you

"i like strong girls, too, as long as they have a pretty face," he says as he took out the machete out of his weapon. "what kind of men do you like, kohaku-chan? how about me? i'm strong as hell."

the girl let out a sigh, then tied her hair up to her usual ponytail while crouching down. "strength is strength of mind," she states, making him slightly confused. "to be able to continue hammering a wedge for as long as it takes to carry out one's will. that's the kind of person i'm drawn to."

her pose changed to a battle stance. "well~ this is a problem, moz. you seem to be the exact opposite," she tells him. "and compared to him?" she scoffs. "actually, compared to her? you're nothing. literally. she's stronger than both of us combined, actually, stronger than anyone else on this island."

"i don't know who you're referring to, but you're cute, kohaku-chan. just not cute enough though."

did kohaku just imply something

AND

maybe come out of the closet?

maybe

maybe not

who knows

but she really wasn't lying

moz really is nothing compared to the people she admires and respects the most

as the parts of the gun was laid out on the table, the people from the 21st century had recognized it

of course they did, after all,

"this is what made men and women, young and old, all of humanity, all of homo sapiens, the apex predators. it's the invention of the gods and demons, and even then, humans who owns these rank higher than what we can see on the pyramid," senku states as kaseki finished the building of the gun.

"we, humans, may be on top of the food chain, but once given some source of power? we become our own enemies. and we all know who's at the top here in japan." he lets out a teasing smirk as some let out a sigh, knowing who he's talking about.

"tools are neither gods nor demons," ukyo says. "it's up to the person to determine how it's used."

"then let's be damn glad that our rulers didn't use these to become demons," cackled senku as he just had to make a joke.

both gen and yuzuriha let out a loud sigh.

ukyo decided to ignore the misplaced joke, and continue with what he was going to say anyways.

then later on when ryusui asked who would wield the gun...

senku turned his head towards the stoned yu. "if i had continued my gun lessons with y/n, maybe i can, but compared to the only police officer? yeah, he's better off with it." then he hummed, turning to his two childhood friends. "how about you two? any of you comfortable wielding a gun? i know you both got lessons from y/n also."

yuzuriha shook her head. "well, it's best to just leave it with yu... my lessons with y/n were more of for self-defense," she says.

"i also think it's better for yu to handle it. he's the professional," taiju says. "y/n tried to teach me, but i just always end up using my hands during the mock fights."

gen, ukyo, and ryusui turned to the trio in different waves of shock.

"i wonder how those lessons went knowing your non-existent strength, senku-chan," gen mused.

the scientist rolled his eyes.

it was actually pretty shocking to hear that the trio had gun lessons with YOU

like what an honor??

but it also makes sense for none of the trio to pick up on it since they've already had pretty different skill sets; a gun just didn't fit within it

it was also kind of scary to think about it

everyone knows that the l/n family are all skilled and powerful people

each person had a different skill set honed and trained to the absolute perfection, and that the regime it took to get there was of on a entirely different level

to hear that you had taught those three a small part of your regime,

just how hard was it?

it was an honor, but at the same time, no normal person can probably handle the regime of a l/n

when the team saw that the islanders were getting evacuated

it was a sign that ibara planned to petrify the entire island

"w-we're in huge trouble!" exclaimed suika in a panic.

"nah, just the opposite," senku says with a confident smirk. "when the going gets tough, the tough get going. we might be able to take all of it. the enemy, the kingdom, and the medusa!"

he starts cackling. "oh, y/n, you could've been so damn useful here, why'd you just have to go and get punctured," he sighs with a shake of his head.

ukyo looked at senku in nervousness. "why does it seem like you always have to insult her situation?" he rhetorically asks.

yuzuriha chuckles. "you'll get used to it," she says with a sympathetic smile. "it's his way of showing his love to her."

ukyo thinks that he'll never get used to it

he was one of the people that didn't know the dynamic between you and senku since your accident had happened right when the stone war ended

it's not like he doesn't believe that you two are together, it's just that he's the type to have to hear/see it to believe it

he still have that image of you in his head

that you're someone like tsukasa, except way dangerous and way scarier

it also doesn't help that you and your family are probably the only people that can get past his enhanced hearing

it's easy to say that he's afraid of you

which is why every time senku goes and makes fun of your accident, it gives him whiplash

this time yuzuriha was the one to think of you as she stared at the broken stone fragments of the master of the island

"it isn't over yet," she says. "we have to keep thinking, and keep going; that's what i learned from him... her... from them! we still have some adhesive senku-kun made for us in the kingdom of science." her eyes glistening as she darted from piece to piece.

you and senku are one of the most goal-oriented people she knows

senku will not stop until he completes what he needs to do

and you will not stop until you get what you want

it's almost scary

and when senku freed hyoga as their last resort

"we weren't cornered," senku tell ibara with a smooth confident voice despite the sweat dripping from his face. "we had you corner us into this particular room." with that, he dropped the glass of revival fluid.

of course, gen felt like he needed to mention you to get hyoga to fight for their side. "also, don't forget that if anything happens to senku, y/n-chan will have you head," he whispered out, loud enough for hyoga to hear. "i wonder what'll happen to you after seeing her dearly beloved bleeding out."

senku sighed and shook his head at the shit gen is saying, but he can't oppose to it because it's true.

the only reason hyoga was able to inflict a critical hit on you is because you were protecting tsukasa's sister. and so what if you weren't protecting anyone AND anger engulfed you?

it's safe to say that no one wants to feel the true wrath of a member of the l/n family, much less from you

"i'm alone," senku says out loud as he watched the sun set off in the distance. his back heavy from the phone, his body aching from tiredness, and his shoulder throbbing with dried blood. his eyes glistened in nostalgia as his memories of the early stone world passes through his mind. "again. i'm alone again..."

the phone rings, shocking him out of his pondering.

"can you hear me, senku-san?" called ruri from the other side. "how are things over there, senku-san?"

he stared at the phone in front of him. a smirk slipping through his lips. "no," he changes his mind. "i'm not alone this time." he then quietly added,

"i also have someone i need to go home to."

as the topic of ruri and the mainland was brought up while they ate, taiju had lots to say

"is this ruri girl chrome's girlfriend or ex or something?" amaryllis asked francois, excited to hear some juicy details about her new allies/friends.

"no, i'm told that she is senku-sama's former wife," they answered.

taiju looked absolutely shocked, shaking from the news. "what?!" he exclaimed, really loud. "when did you get married, senku?! weren't you going to marry y/n?!?!" he shook the scientist by the collar.

senku had his fingers in his ears the entire time, not phased, but annoyed. he's used to the loudness of taiju after all. "just for three minutes! we got divorced right away," he explained.

that only fueled taiju more, shaking the scientist once again. "what?! when did you get divorced, senku!? was y/n okay with this?!"

"okay! okay!" senku exclaimed as he took the hands off of his collar. "i just said we got divorced right away! also, y/n was fine with it! it was ages ago."

now, francois isn't one to oblige in gossip especially when it's related to you

but when taiju implied that you and senku are betrothed, they can't help but wonder

are you and senku really engaged to each other?

they had seen how normal engaged couples are, but the two of you don't seem to act like that

but then again, you're, y/n l/n and he's, senku ishigami

not one is normal

the small group now stared at the trashed upper control room located on the perseus

chrome was fuming. "those assholes made a damn mess! they didn't even know what they were dealing with! bastards!" he ranted as he stomped onto the floorboards.

"now's not the time to be getting all salty," senku piped up as he stuck a pinky into his ear.

"actually, i've never seen senku truly angry," taiju says, smiling at his comment.

"no, i get angry. i'm not a saint. i'm just too busy to," interrupted the scientist. "and y/n definitely seen me angry a few times."

later on, when they finally de-petrified kohaku and ginro

instead of giving ginro a hug, kohaku ran to senku, giving the scientist a hug

ginro was mad about it, but who cares about him and his pervy ways

kirisame was blushing at the sight of kohaku hugging senku. albeit, him not reciprocating that, but receiving it with a smile and soft eyes anyways.

"oh right. kirisame-chan, you think they're in a legit relationship, don't you?" gen says. "senku's actually in a relationship with someone else. kohaku's actually breaking a lot of rules doing this."

"i don't think that's what that hug is about," says amaryllis. "not between those two."

"it better not be," screamed gen, purposely gaining kohaku's attention.

kohaku broke the hug off with senku. "i almost died!" she exclaimed to gen. "let me be relieved of surviving!"

then she kneeled to the ground and made a dogeza once again at the direction of the ishigami village. "i also assure you, y/n, that that hug was nothing. i would never do you like that. i would choose you over him any day," she stated as senku rolled his eyes while both gen and nikki laughed.

"you got that right, kohaku!" nikki hollered.

later at night, once the team finished de-petrifying the islanders and the rest of their people, a party of celebration was happening at the deck of the perseus

ginro and suika found senku and his team down at the lower half of the control room where the comms are

as senku bluntly asked what ruri needed, amaryllis was shocked

"eh?? isn't this your first time talking to your former wife after all that's happened on the island?" she lets out.

"that's senku for you," is all kohaku says.

"who cares about the former wife, he's already got a current wife to think about much less than a former one," retorted gen, making kohaku hit his head.

"that's my sister you're talking about."

on a cliff, some of the battle team gathered

kohaku and kirisame stood in front of each other

ginro, kinro, nikki, and kokuyo were stationed at the side, as the audience

"now that we know why-man is our enemy, our job as the battle team is no longer to investigate," kohaku announced as the leader of the said team. "it's to train for the inevitable battle!"

ginro lets out a frightened screech. "we just defeated the petrification kingdom! this is even scarier!"

kohaku and kirisame took a stance, then lounged for each other. the two neck and neck in skill. those watching couldn't help but be in awe at the sight of the dance.

"they're evenly matched!" exclaimed nikki.

"they're both incredible," kokuyo lets out.

"you're strong," kirisame says in between strikes. "you were holding back the last time we fought, weren't you?"

kohaku scoffs. "i wasn't going easy on you. i would never be disrespectful. i apologize. i was simply not accustomed to moving around in a dress."

ginro then bursts out a scream that he held in during the entire duration of the spar, freezing the two girls in shock. he then also ran away.

kohaku shook her head at ginro. "i won't be able to teach you more than you already know since you and i fairly the same in combat skill. the only person who can teach all of us more techniques is y/n, and hopefully when senku heals her, she'll continue lessons."

"y/n? is this the person you were apologizing for?" asked kirisame.

"she's better than all of us combined," is all kohaku said as her gaze stared at the direction of the ishigami village with a sparkling look in her eyes.

a small blush slowly flushed on kirisame's cheeks the more she stared at the way kohaku looked.

it was quite an intimate look that kohaku gave

kirisame noticed it was the same one she had gave to senku

after building the windmill, chrome looked around and wondered for senku

it took a while for him to figure out where the mad scientist could have gone, but he finally found senku

opening the door to the mobile lab, chrome immediately asked, "yo, senku, what the hell are you doing all by yourself?"

senku managed to let out a chuckle. "working on an exhilarating craft," he managed to say pass his crusty lips.

"oh, shit!" chrome screamed at the shocking sight of a dehydrated and crusty senku.

senku downed a few bottles of water which made his complexion slowly come back. he lets out an exhale after drinking. "completely forgotten about hydrating. got too used to having y/n take care of that for me," he absentmindedly mentions.

senku and chrome continued to talk about the plans that senku had for later during the night.

chrome could tell that senku missed you

how could he not have noticed?

everyone practically knows also!

senku always somehow mentions you at least once a day

he never thought senku could be so damn clingy...

it takes him back to the times he witnessed the two of you intimate moments

they really need to come and revive you already

he could never get used to that empty space next to senku

later at night, a small festival was being held at the beach

the lights dimmed, gaining the attention of all

"do you hear me, all?" chrome exclaimed from the speakers. "we're gonna show you something that's going to leave the whole of treasure island speechless and wanting more! rainbow bridge, max level!"

a few seconds later, fireworks shot out into the sky.

senku stared at the night sky that bloomed an array of fireworks, imprinting their colorful displays for all to see. his eyes glistened with nostalgia, a memory popping into mind.

"hey, senku, do you think you could show these back in mainland?" asked kohaku who now stood next to him.

senku turned to her, the memory fainting away. "maybe, we'll see," he replies.

"would you change your mind if i mention that you could see these again with y/n standing by your side next time?" she retorted.

he hummed. "i was just thinking about her," he revealed, quietly. "the first time she saw fireworks, she was with me and byakuya. i could already see her whining about not being there for the first fireworks in this stone world." he scoffs, then lets out a sigh. "fine, we'll do it again at mainland."

kohaku smiled a teasing grin.

a little later, after the firework show, senku stood in front of the treasure tree. he heard footsteps behind him that got closer, and closer. "why are you here?" he asked without looking back.

"just an early morning stroll," answered kohaku. "is it not the same for you?"

"thousands of years ago, byakuya and the other astronauts set foot here for the first time in an utterly deserted new world," senku quietly says as his eyes glistened. "though they've long since turned to dirt, aside from a few fragments of rock."

kohaku scoffs as she quickly and easily climbed up the tree. "that's not true!" she exclaimed as she walked over to where the treasure laid. "you, i, and everyone else will someday die and return to dust, but their will is passed down, refined, and carried on into the future."

senku stared at kohaku who now stood at the small entrance way of the treasure. "isn't that what humanity calls 'science'? that's what you and y/n taught me, senku," she says, looking down at him.

he chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "yeah, that's right. we're going way farther than those goofy astronauts. we're going to the moon," he stated. "and y/n will be stoked to hear it; she always did love the moon."

kohaku jumped down from the top of the tree, now standing on an elevated root. "it's not true that byakuya and his team left nothing behind. in fact, they connected everything for us," she mentioned.

senku didn't reply, but instead added, "typical, i mean, he's always done the connecting."

kohaku didn't understand what senku had meant when he said that

there are many things about senku... about you that she doesn't know about

some day, she'd like to know more about the two of you

the perseus landed

people started talking about the missing cracks

chrome immediately showed the medusa

"does that mean that mean she'll finally wake up?" tsukasa asked, stepping forward.

senku chuckled as he walked down. "yeah, let's get her out of that damn cold sleep already. our hidden treasure of japan, y/n l/n." the scientist may have not said anything else regarding you after that, but they all knew how much he wanted you to stand next to him again.

"we say cold sleep, but really, we just froze her..." commented gen.

"yeah, like an ice cube," cackled senku. "i bet you she wasn't even asleep most of the time, but suffering from the cold. she hates the cold."

gen sighs at yet another tease towards you.

"that's not the real problem though, is it? you can always trust a sailor's gut," ryusui piped up, then his eyes narrowed on the scientist. "when ibara jabbed you... senku, given how pragmatic you are, you would have healed yourself immediately with the dr. stone set. am i right? yet the crack in your forehead is still there. in other words, you didn't use it. you saved it for... y/n. why?"

"oh right, you don't know, ryusui-chan?" gen asked. "y/n-chan and senku-chan are intertwined. of course, he'd rather heal his y/n-chan over himself."

some people silently laughed knowing that it's true. ryusui, however, looked shocked. there were many implications, but never a confirmation. senku didn't say anything regarding his relationship with you, though, instead he had a different reason.

"actually, the medusa is out of battery."

that gained everyone's attention.

"that thing runs on batteries?!" exclaimed taiju, next to senku.

senku chuckled. "dunno," he says. "and we don't exactly have the luxury of smashing it open to have a look-see inside. but it is using some kind of energy. the one thing that could never happen is for it to make energy out of nothing."

he turned his head to a certain girl. "kirisame," he called out. "is the petrification beam's area specified in radii?"

"yes, why?" she answered.

"when i stoned ibara, i specified five meters. but the petrification beam barely made maybe a meter and a half."

kirisame looked taken aback. "that's impossible!" she argued. "it's never deviated in size..." then her eyes dilated as some form of realization dawned onto her. "...it's out of energy?" she lets out in shock.

here they are in the cave where you were put to sleep

senku, chrome, kohaku, taiju, yuzuriha, gen, ginro, kinro, ryusui, nikki, ukyo, and matsukaze

chrome lifted the lid of the makeshift freezer making the cold fog explode that slowly dispersed to the floor, revealing your pale cold body.

senku walked over to stand next to you. he stared at you as his eyes glistened with memories. he absentmindedly raised his hand to your face, leaving a lingering touch. his thumb caressing your cold cheek.

the small intimate moment of affection really caught ryusui off guard

senku's eyes always held conviction

after all, his eyes are the most transparent part of him

yet ryusui never saw it that soft and so full of love before

he honestly thought that gen was messing with him

but this?

seeing it for himself really changed everything

kohaku approached and stood next to senku, holding the medusa. the two turned to each other, their eyes making contact. no words were exchanged. senku gave a nod as kohaku then bent down and placed the medusa in the space of your clasped hands.

taiju walked over and took senku's hand and placed it on top of yours. "senku! hold y/n's hand with all you've got!"

senku looked taken aback. "what?" he lets out.

"i see!" exclaimed kohaku. "if you hold her really close to the device, it might give her just a little more of the light."

"that's seriously not going to make a difference," senku retorted, but a small smile formed on his face. "fine, whatever, and if i get caught in the beam, it'll heal my wounds and cracks too; perfect."

yuzuriha then walked over, standing next to taiju. she placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him a smile. then she removed it and placed it on top of yours. kohaku and chrome, too, placed their hand on top of yours.

"one meter, one second."

the green light engulfed you as your skin slowly turned to stone. the others pulled back their hands while senku immediately took the vial of revival fluid and pours it on you. the stone skin cracked and fragments fell, both stone and ice.

you sat right up as you screamed, "senku!" then you stood up and out of the freezer, tackling him into a hug.

"did they hurt you?" he asked as he pushed away and cupped your face with one hand.

your eyes widen as a big smile formed on your face. the others were confused by what senku had meant. "no, no, i'm okay," you answered as you placed a hand over his. "did they hurt you?"

"who cares."

"i do!"

you and senku then bursts out laughing.

"sorry, what just happened?" gen managed to ask. "what was that?"

taiju and yuzuriha were chuckling as well. "every time they reunite, they always reference steven universe," yuzuriha explained. "i think it was one of the first things that y/n watched with senku."

"that gem cartoon from the states?" gen asks, but then he immediately hums afterwards. "no, wait, that makes sense."

you turned your head to kohaku with a smile and soft eyes. her eyes glistened as she stared at yours. you extended your arms as she ran into them. nuzzling her nose into your chest while you tightened your hold.

a second later, you pulled back and turned back to senku. "so what's our situation now?" you asked.

"she only just woke up," says matsukaze in awe.

"i've heard around that that's how she is," commented nikki. "always working like him."

"although, i think that she's more serious and formal than him," ukyo mentions. ryusui nods his head, agreeing with ukyo.

"we're attacking the moon!" exclaimed senku with a not-so-serious face.

you owlishly blinked at senku, then a huge excited toothy wide grin formed on your face. "ah! no way really?!" you squealed as you clasped your hands together which caught the others off guard. "senku, darling, it's your dream!" you engulfed the man into a tight hug that lifted him off the ground. if anyone caught onto that affectionate name, no one mentioned it.

he pushed you away. "we've got company, y/n, calm down," he tells you with a lazy smirk on his face.

"who cares about the company!" you retorted. "tell me: are we blowing up the moon?" you asked looking like a child that just got permission to do something they've always wanted to do.

"what?! no!" screamed out senku. "this is a mistake. maybe i should make tsukasa the soldier for the moon."

"wait, honey, no! i'm kidding!"

"i take back what i said," ukyo says in absolute awe and shock with ryusui, nikki, and matsukaze also looking hella shocked.

"yeah, my image of her is completely ruined," mentioned gen.

it was then you caught sight of new faces. "oh, hello," you formally greeted with a short bow. "i don't think i've met you guys yet. although, your face is familiar. i apologize, but could you relay your name to me again?" you gestures your entire palm at ryusui.

the four felt a wave of whiplash at the sudden change in tone and demeanor of the person in front of them; a very important person they may add.

"h-hello, i'm nikki," she greeted, really nervously.

"ah, you're the woman on the phone. i'm glad to see another woman on the battle team." you smiled at her as she nodded, freezing up and pink dusting her cheeks.

"i'm ukyo," he says, raising his hand up.

"yes! the one with good hearing. i'm pleased to see you on this side now," you tell him as he gave a loopy smile, his cheeks a bit faint of red.

"ryusui nanami," he bowed, taking your hand into his and giving a light peck on it.

your eyes widen at the familiar gesture and at the name. "ah, one of the sons of the nanami conglomerate," you acknowledged, then you realized something.

"wait!" you turned around to senku. "you guys built a boat?! just how many things did i miss?"

this time, gen spoke up, "i'll tell you all about it."

"hello, gen," you greeted with a slight smirk. "you're not walking on eggshells around me anymore," you stated as you looked him, up and down. "what changed?"

gen shook his head as he chuckled. "senku ruined your image for me," he says, making you coo.

"aw, senku, you still have that habit?"

"shut up."

this is when ginro decided to speak up. "senku, i just figured it out!" he exclaimed, his face being way too overly arrogant. "you hurried back to y/n because you were worried she was going to spoil in the freezer, right? i know you hate all that mushy stuff, though!" his elbow jabbing into senku's neck.

"he's absolutely tackless!" says kohaku.

"well, if he just wanted someone super strong, he could've taken my top student—i mean, guard, matsukaze-kun." ginro really got carried away.

matsukaze stared at you

he was wondering why you were considered the strongest

he honestly thought it was that tsukasa man

that man was trained to the absolute limit, he could tell with one look

but you?

you didn't look like you were trained like tsukasa was

he stepped towards you and gave a bow, staying in that position. "my name is matsukaze," he greeted. "y/n-dono, if it would be all right, i would like to challenge you once you are well."

you looked at the new face in glee. "oh? then how about now? let's go outside," you tell him. "oohh~ this is fun! i never had anyone challenge me before."

"gee, i wonder why," mused gen, already knowing the outcome of this fight.

matsukaze now understands why you're the strongest here and not tsukasa

you had defeated him with a single finger

a single finger that you used on his forehead to stop his lunge and forcefully push him to the ground

your leaking bloodlust and monotone stare caused him to freeze on the ground, too speechless and afraid to move

you blinked your eyes and your demeanor changed, reverting to what it once was before the fight. "oh my, i apologize, matsukaze," you tell him as you extended a hand to him. "you challenged me," is all you say.

he politely took your hand as you helped him up. he bowed down to you and say, "i am defeated."

"you're a very capable man, and i'm glad to have new members for the battle team," you tell him.

ginro is now humbled

"since the device is out of battery, senku's crack will never go away now," says suika as she walked over to in front of him

"no!" you exclaimed with a huff as if you were child who were having a tantrum.

people slowly turned to you. senku sighs, feeling like he knows what you're going to say.

"i like the stone cracks!" you announced as you walked over to senku. you then traced the lines on his forehead. "it gives him character and he looks... really... good with them."

"y/n..." senku called with a warning tone. "did that freezer like give you a damn concussion or something?"

you laughed as you just give him a hug. you arms around his shoulders, your head burying into his neck. he sighed and hugged you back with one arm that rubbed your back in a comforting way.

this is when gen was like "why should senku-chan get all the fun?" leading to everyone else getting back their petrification cracks

you included of course, after you had stopped clinging onto senku like a koala

although some people didn't forget the small public display of affection you and senku shared, in fact, it really caught them off guard

ukyo, ryusui, nikki, and tsukasa aren't used to it

you were acting like a clingy girlfriend that hadn't seen her boyfriend in months

and senku is acting like a boyfriend who's nonchalant about his girlfriend's clinginess, but everyone knows just how much he missed you!

two people with the most specific personality and a reputation to uphold, and yet here they are soft for each other

it's strange

but at the same time, it felt right

ukyo was down at the control room, double checking everything in case the islanders from treasure island had touched anything else

he thought no one else was on board besides some who would drop of supplies then leave afterwards

but then he heard you

...and senku

he looked around and saw that no one was on the surface, so the two of you were probably below nearby, in one of the rooms

"what was with you awhile ago?" senku asked.

"what do you mean?" you asked back.

"you..." ukyo could hear the hesitation in senku's voice. "did you not think that we... that i—!" a tremble in the scientist's voice. "were you... unsure of ever waking up?" he finally managed to ask. his voice whispering by the end.

a pause. all ukyo could hear was the breathing and the beating of two people. he could hear the anxiousness from each one.

"senku..." you called, softly in a whisper as well. "you need to understand that..." your voice trembling. "that i wasn't expecting you to find the medusa that quick. those months in the cold dark, i was preparing myself not to see you again for who knows how long."

you inhaled a shaky breath. your heart beating rapidly. "i know that those few months were nothing compared to the time we were apart in stone, but at least we both knew that the other was alive—!" your voiced cracked.

"just when you and i were together again, the stone world takes it away once more. how cruel is that?" you let out a shaky fake laugh.

"i could have died in my sleep, senku," you croaked out to him, sniffling and trembling. your breathing became rigid as senku's became heavy. you were probably crying at this point.

both of your hearts were beating so fast as well.

"no," senku says with full on denial. "no, y/n, you would have not died. y/n, you would have not fucking died!" he screamed out.

"what do you know?!" you screamed back at him. "i was the one in that damn freezer. i know what my body felt like throughout those damn fucking months. you know how my—" you took a deep breath. "my body felt like it was on it's way to death!"

"hah~ shit," you exhaled a shaky breath. "maybe i have already died, and i'm just wishing that you were next to me." a thud to the floor then rapid footsteps, ukyo heard.

"y/n, y/n, shit— don't do this— fuck! i'm here, y/n, i'm real. dammit y/n—! i'm right here!" senku screamed out in reassurance.

then ukyo heard a desperate kiss shared between the two.

ukyo left the perseus in a daze at what he heard

he could hear the emotions the two of you felt during the entirety of that

it was strong

to the point that he could feel it as well

"ukyo-chan?" called gen. "did something happen on the perseus? why are you crying?"

ukyo raised his hand and wiped his cheeks. it's true, he's crying. "um..." he hesitated. "senku and... y/n-san are..."

gen widen his eyes then it softened. "let's leave those two be for now," he says. "it must've been hard for them both. i've never seen them apart from each other for that long."

ukyo fully believes it now

that you two are together

even before the kiss had happen

masterlist ; loyalty built from love (part 1) a/n: i'm actually not as proud of this one compared to part 1, but that last bit? yeah, i like it part 3 will happen when the next season comes

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pomefioredove · 1 month ago

Text

so yesterday I theorized that the fae in twst could be french, possibly breton inspiration, and was mercifully corrected by @tresgansosenunabrigo who actually knows things about french folklore unlike meee

we had a really good talk, which breathed life into a thought of mine about Briar Valley being parallel to ancient Irish mythology, that I had brushed off as insane months ago

some of the following is an old essay that I wrote, that I now find very very... um, incomplete at best, incorrect at worst. I've done my best to put out something more accurate, relevant, and interesting

but, for the sake of this essay: this is only for speculative purposes in the context of fiction. I am only drawing small parallels, and this is not a theory. I am not a teacher. I am not claiming to know everything. I'm just some guy who reads

a brief forward:

my credentials are "religious studies major" and not much else. I am not Irish, nor am I pagan, and my knowledge/study in Irish mythology is very secondary to Catholicism. I have been close to and spoken to a handful of experts within the field but am not one myself.

furthermore, I look to old/historical sources for knowledge, and reject eclectic and appropriative wiccan ideas. this has been a seven year long labor of love, but I'm still not perfect, and continue to sift through my sources every day. The misinformation that eclectics have created about Irish mythology have made way into books, into articles, into common belief, so it is, in fact very difficult not to internalize misinformation. I'm trying </3

and I am begging anyone in this field to correct any mistakes I make.

additionally I've only read a little bit of book 7 so I may be totally crazy. this is just a speculative piece, after all.

a glossary of knowledge:

for the purpose of this essay, I may use "fae" as an umbrella term, which includes pixies, medieval French fae, the aos sí, and the Tuatha de Danann*

*please note that the Tuatha de were gods in their original sources, but were changed to fairies, other supernatural beings, and occasionally kings in later Catholicized retellings.

I will be focusing most on ancient beliefs, with vague mentions of medieval/post-Catholicism ones. Catholicism is extremely important in the context of these stories, as it was the Catholic monks who preserved them in written form, and it's quite literally impossible not to mention. it's had a huge influence.

etc.

when talking about folklore, mythology, or religion, it's literally impossible to draw definite lines. it's why I hate when people say "well this religion stole this thing!" because religions intermingle, they share, they swap, they sometimes even meld with each other into something unique. ever-changing and different and the same. the Romans adopted their beliefs from the Greeks, and they shared gods with the Gauls, and then Christianity used the image of Jupiter as God. a big part of being a history major is understanding how to draw connections between cultures and peoples.

Admittedly, I am not familiar with the French idea of fae. I know that it is medieval. post-Christianity. it's a fairly loose term that denotes a "magical woman, skilled with words, herbs and stones" (via Wikipedia) and not much else. this is relevant to the Sleeping Beauty story, in which all the fairies are women. Maleficent's guards are not fairies, but ghouls (is that the right word?). I couldn't tell you the exact origin of French fairies, but it's not far-fetched to say they could have had "Celtic"* influence

*in reference to more than one culture in this context. scottish, manx, welsh, irish, etc

It is, perhaps, more important to add that French fairies are romantic figures in nature. very... fairy-tale esque. characters such as the fairy godmother and the good fairies in Perrault's version of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are good examples of this.

TWST fae... are... a little different. obviously. while it may be easy to simply argue that "it's twisted, so they're darker" or "Briar Valley is based off Maleficent's domain so of course it's dark", it's implied (and shown!) that good entities come from Briar Valley, too. pixies exist in TWST, for example. then there are the good fairies from Sleeping Beauty, which have to exist alongside Maleficent in the canon of TWST. The fae here are layered, much more so than in their sources.

This is where I start seeing shit.

war, weapons, and invasion

When speculating on the influence of French folklore in Briar Valley, I was told that "war" is a rather uncommon thing in their stories. Invasion is, of course, an imperative theme in Briar Valley history, in Lilia's background, and in book 7 as a whole. So. I get thinking.

The war between the fae and the humans carries significant parallels to the war between the Tuatha de Danann and the humans in the Lebor Gabála Érenn, the Book of Invasions, wherein the "fae" and the humans warred over land and resources until the former were driven out of Ireland and the humans became the ancestors of the modern Irish. And by "parallels" I mean this exact thing happens. THE EXACT THING. The Book of Invasions was literally the first thing I thought about when in Lilia's dream.

War is, of course, a recurring theme in Irish mythology. Ná Morríghan is associated with war, there's that entire book of invasions, like, anything about Cú Chulainn, etc.

I also, very quickly, want to draw a comparison between Lilia's magearm and the four treasures of the Tuatha de Danann, which are described in literature such as the Lebor Gabála and Cath Maige Tuired (iirc). magical weaponry is a fairly common motif in various Celtic mythologies. in Irish mythology, it's the Spear of Lugh, and various swords, clubs, etc. The magearm just struck the same chord for me.

nature

I fear this is about to get very ~ohooo magical pagan connection to nature!~ please bear with me.

The mythology of Ireland is very, very, very tied to the land. You can still see this today, actually. Various natural formations- hills, islands, etc- have mythological names. Much like Olympus in Greek mythology, places mentioned in Irish mythological sources have real-world counterparts, such as Tech Duinn, the House of the Dead, being Bull Rock- a tiny island off the coast of Cork (cool post about that and the ancient Irish belief in death here). Trees had important religious, cultural, and linguistic (see: Ogham) connotations. Many of the Tuatha de had animalistic attributes and associations, such as Morríghan and crows. Even more were associated with fertility and agriculture, which was kind of a big deal. Symbols that which represent fertility, are rather common motifs (such as the Lia Fáil on the Hill of Tara, which I've read is theorized to be phallic).

That's not even mentioning the oceans, the cliffs, the forests, or the sidhe (a "fairy mounds", manmade or natural features that connect our world to the otherworld of Irish mythology).

At multiple points in Lilia's dream do we hear the fae talk about how important nature is to fae. I am unsure if this strong love for land is a theme in French folklore.

I also want to briefly point out that, in reputable sources, the "Celtic" day began at sunset. Darkness- night, winter, cold- were important to the ancient Irish, both in culture and in mythology. It's probable that their "New Year" began at Samhain (soh-wen), the holiday that celebrated the beginning of winter, to put it briefly. Here's a discussion post about this (and I sent this ask!!!!)

I just find the significance of darkness and night to hold some ground with the concept of "nocturnal fae" in TWST. "Night's blessing's", they say.

form

I also want to add, very quickly, that there are multiple different iterations of "fairies" in Irish mythology and folklore. The Tuatha de resemble humans. The modern aos sí are more mystical. The Fomorians (whom are or are not fairies, depending on who you ask?) are described as more animalistic and monstrous. The nature of fae in TWST is unclear, but they read, to me, as human-like with different abilities, different physical attributes, and a different connection to land and nature. Which is, in form, similar enough to the "fae" of Irish (and other Celtic) folklore.

Lilia

Head in hands. Shall we talk about the importance of the paternal figure in Irish mythology. I feel I have to.

I really really hate saying the word "fertility" so much because I start sounding like a Wiccan, I promise I'm going somewhere with this.

In the Nature segment, I briefly touched on the importance of fertility and the phallic symbol. I know that usually, when talking about ~fertility~ in reference to paganism, people are talking women/goddesses, but throughout my readings of Irish mythology, I've found that male fertility is just as important. More specifically, fatherhood. I, unfortunately, couldn't find much input on this, but I think it's safe to say that The Dagda, for example, is considered an important father figure and is associated with fatherhood.

It's just important.

Head in hands again. Now let's talk about fostering. Fosterage was, by most sources, a really big thing in ancient Ireland. Raising someone else's child, including that of your enemy, was not only acceptable, not only common, but traditional. And the themes of fosterage exist in the mythos, too- in Tóraigheacht Dhiarmada agus Ghráinne, the demi-god Diarmuid was fostered by Aengus Og. Aengus Og was also fostered. Fosterage is a theme in Cú Chulainn's story, so on and so forth. The gods/fae/etc foster humans, they foster demi-gods, they foster other gods.

I wanted to mention both of these as important themes in both Irish mythology and Lilia's story because like. come onnn lol.

And One More Thing!!!

This isn't super relevant to this essay, I just like to bring it up: Lilia is vampiric? Well, there's vampires in Irish folklore (or close enough, anyway. the link gives a few different versions of the story and their origins). Some think that Abhartach was actually the true inspiration behind Bram Stoker's Dracula. I don't know how much credibility this theory has, I've read a few essays on it. I just think this is fun.

Silver

Much of what I said in Lilia could be said here, too. All I really want to bring up is the symbolism of acorns. I've mentioned that certain trees had mythological connections, and the oak tree was. Um. A big one. It's a recurring theme, past, and present. Even the "Celtic Tree of Life" is an oak. I don't know, it's just important.

I could also draw some pretty stark comparisons between the story of Fionn mac Cumhaill, a heroic figure in Irish Mythology, and Silver, but that would be a bit much.

Sebek

Half-god and half-human heroes, fae, whatever etc are very much present and important in Irish mythology. That's all I can think of for now.

Malleus

I suppose I could, if I tried very hard, find something to say about Malleus, but this is where the ~medieval Europe~ starts to seep in. I am unaware of any dragons or dragonlike creatures in Irish, or other Celtic, myth.

Nobility is, however, a major theme in Irish mythology. There are many rules, there are laws, there are gods and goddesses of sovereignty, it's huge, and sort of parallels Diasomnia's structure, in a strange way. I'd need to know how their housewarden is chosen, lmao.

conclusion

Do I think the TWST writers have an intimate knowledge of ancient Irish mythology and are purposefully making allusions to drive me insane specifically? no. obviously not. is it possible that these myths have influenced the general idea of fae, and thus were included in the writing process unconsciously? yes. absolutely!

Ultimately, this is more of a thought exercise and an analysis than a theory. Take it as you will.

so on and so forth.

#writing this almost killed me. IT'S SO LONG

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totowlff · 2 years ago

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somewhere in the haze

➝ when your race for generational talent came to an end, you didn't expect to be so shaken. however, you also did not expect to be supported precisely by your great rival

➝ word count: 4,4k

➝ warnings: mentions of health problems

➝ author’s note: i don't even remember the last time i wrote a one-shot, but this one made me particularly happy. hope you like it.

Sitting at the dark marble-colored bar, you stared at the aperol spritz you'd ordered, the slice of orange floating amongst the slivers of ice that still lingered at the bottom of the glass. You typically didn’t make a habit of drinking, especially by yourself, the night before a Formula 2 feature race.

However, you felt like you deserved a drink or two, especially after the insanity of the last few months.

You downed what was left in your drink and signaled to the bartender for another. The man nodded, whisking your glass, with its lone orange slice, away. You stared at the veins of the marble bar top, losing your gaze in the faint white veins running through the stone as the image of a young boy’s face filled your mind. His dark eyes were filled with tears, and his lower lip was trembling.

“You said they would accept me,” he repeated in your head.

— Y/N? — a familiar voice asked behind you.

You sighed deeply. Of course he was here. Why would he be anywhere else in the damned city aside from this exact hotel bar?

You glanced to your side and found a tall man looking at you with a serious expression on his face. It was just like that afternoon a few months ago, in that cramped garage in the Italian countryside.

The sky was gray and depressing that day, but the environment at the track was electric.

You were in Lonato del Garda for two days already, following the ROK Cup International Final 2018, one of the main karting competitions in Italy. It brought together more than 420 drivers from 21 countries, all looking for a chance in the world of motorsport. Something you could offer them.

The prancing horse embroidered on your jacket was proof of that. You worked for Scuderia Ferrari, and your job with the team was scouting talented up-and-coming drivers for the Ferrari Driver Academy. Judging by the eight laps you’d just watched, you found one, and a good one.

As you walked through the garages, looking for the number 633 in the columns, you mentally reviewed the information you had gotten about the boy by talking to other people who were there.

His name was Andrea, but everyone called him by his middle name, Kimi. His father, Marco, was a driver as well, and was extremely passionate about the sport, to the point of having founded a team with the family surname. Kimi had been racing around Europe for three years, winning championships and drawing attention for his impressive results, as well as his mature and extremely intelligent racing style.

“He’s exactly what I want”, you thought, as you strolled into the garage marked with his number. You expected to find the boy with his father and his mechanics, but to your surprise - and not a pleasant surprise - there was a tall man standing next to Kimi’s cart, his hands resting on the equipment.

— Your overtake on the third lap was fantastic — you heard that familiar voice say, with its deep and distinct accent. “Damn you”, you said mentally, as you approached the three.

— Indeed it was — you said, forcing your face into a pleasant smile.

The three of them looked up at you, each with a different expression. While Kimi and his dad looked excited to see you, the man clearly looked annoyed.

— Y/N, what a surprise to see you here — Toto Wolff said, dryly.

— Don't act like you don't expect me to be here, Wolff. You know I'm always on the lookout at these competitions — you replied in the same tone, while approaching the boy — Besides, I was told there was a boy with the name of a champion running around here. You must be Kimi, right?

The boy smiled.

— Yes, that’s me.

— I'm Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you — you replied, holding out your hand to shake his.

— Are you from Ferrari? — he asked, his brown eyes glued to the prancing horse on your jacket.

— Yes, I'm with the Ferrari Driver Academy. As you may know, I’m always looking for drivers that can be developed within our program, as we did with Jules Bianchi, Sergio Perez, Lance Stroll and, more recently, Charles Leclerc.

— Never mind that none of them drive for Ferrari at the moment — Toto said from behind you, his voice dry and detached

— We are not looking for talent just to feed our team, Toto, but the whole category and the sport as a whole. Better than some teams that claim to have a driver academy and haven't actually recruited any drivers yet — you spat, glancing back over your shoulder. You could see his jaw clench — But Ferrari has already nurtured the careers of several drivers in all steps of the feeder series, through Formula 1. And I would love to have someone like you, Kimi.

— Good evening, Wolff.

— Didn't expect to find you here — Toto said, sitting in the stool next to yours.

— You know I always come to watch the feeder series races, Toto.

— I was talking about this hotel, Y/N. You always stay where the rest of Ferrari stays, don’t you?

— They ran out of rooms — you muttered, nodding to the bartender as he placed your second Aperol spritz in front of you. You took a sip, and squeezed the orange slice into the drink.

— So you decided to stay here?

— Yes, Toto. Does that bother you? — you sneered.

— Not at all, Y/N — he replied — If I’m being honest, I actually prefer your presence to that of most other people’s.

His words had you looking at him with pursed lips. He was wearing a denim shirt and cream-colored dress pants. His hair was a bit mussed. He had a playful smile on his face that somehow never failed to make you feel strangely lighter.

— If Christian saw us talking like this, he’d be jealous. You know that, right?

— I hope so — Toto murmured, before waving to the bartender and ordering a beer — But I don’t care. If I could get away with it, I'd run him over with my car at the first opportunity.

— Wouldn’t we all — you muttered, before taking another sip of your drink. When the bartender set his beer in front of him, he took a generous gulp, and an uncomfortable silence stretched between you, as both of you were undoubtedly thinking about the month before.

Especially after everything that had happened.

Sitting in the Antonelli family’s living room, you knew you had won. Kimi was sitting next to you on the sofa, showing some newspaper clippings and photos, while Marco told more about his son's participation in karting competitions around Italy.

— His first real competition was the Easykart International Grand Final in 2015, at the Circuito de Lignano. Kimi won almost two seconds ahead of second place, it was fantastic.

— That was the day I knew for sure that I didn't want to stop racing — the boy said, smiling.

— And I hope you don't, Kimi — you replied, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder — You're very talented, one of the most talented boys I've ever seen.

— Toto said the same thing the last time we met — the boy said, smiling — He said that I have the potential to drive in Formula 1 someday.

The mention of Toto made you tense up, a wan smile tugging at your lips.

— I usually say that Toto doesn't know what he's talking about, but this time I'll have to agree with him. You really do.

A gleam of hope appeared in Kimi’s eyes.

— Kimi, dear, can you put these things away? — Marco asked. However, when you looked at Kimi’s father, you realized what his intention was.

— Yes, dad — he replied as he got up to take the photos back to where the family kept them. The silence lasted for a few seconds, the sound of some children's television program drifting into the room, making the silence even more tense.

— My son is very excited — Kimi's father finally said — He only knows how to talk about your interest, how he might be on the verge of becoming a Ferrari driver…

— That's excellent, Marco — you replied, smiling.

— But I can’t help being a bit worried, Y/N.

You swallowed hard.

— Worried?

The man in the armchair took a deep breath.

— We are reaching a point in Kimi's career where he needs to step up into a higher category. He wants to go into single-seaters, like Formula Renault or Formula 4, and I fully support him, and want that for him, too.

He didn't have to say another word for you to know what the problem was. Despite having a privileged and much more comfortable condition than that of many other boys, the Antonelli family was not wealthy to the point of being able to fund Kimi’s racing career themselves, especially in a category much more expensive than karts.

It seemed strange, as Marco had a racing team, and Kimi already had some sponsor backing, but nothing of that was able to guarantee that he would be racing in the following years, especially in the category he wanted.

— I know, Marco.

— I want to offer a sure thing to my son, so that he can dedicate himself to his racing career without having to worry about running out of money and having to drop out of a series mid-season. To have the backing of Ferrari would be amazing…

You smiled.

— Will be amazing, you mean. It will be.

Toto took another sip of his beer.

— I guess you heard the news, huh? — he said softly.

— What news?

He was silent for a few seconds.

— We reached an agreement with Kimi.

You raised the glass to your lips, taking a generous sip of your drink.

— Congratulations — you muttered, trying to disguise your frustration.

— For what?

— You won.

He put the beer bottle down and turned to you, one eyebrow raised.

— Won what?

You huffed in frustration.

— Won the battle. Our fight for Kimi.

— Y/N…

— It's fine to celebrate your victory, Toto. You’ve signed a generational talent, the future of motorsport. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to stop bragging about having managed to sign him. I probably would have spent the rest of my career reminding you of it.

— Y/N, you know I was already resigned to the idea of not having him in our program.

— Were you?

— Yes. I thought it was a long shot, truly.

You sneered.

— You've got to be kidding.

— I’m serious — he said, his face set in a serious expression — I knew I was going to lose. I could have offered to fully fund his entire career myself, but I knew it wouldn't matter if you made him an offer.

— I…

— Having your attention means having Ferrari's attention, and what Italian kid wouldn't want to drive for Ferrari?

You looked back at your glass, the squeezed-out sliver of orange bobbing along the top of your drink. He wasn't wrong.

— I had already started talking to the family of another boy who was in the same championship with Kimi that weekend — Toto continued — Until you called me, Y/N. You begged me to sign with him, to take him. I… Thought it was strange, but I’m not ungrateful, but I’ve been meaning to ask… Why?

The question brought another memory back, something churning in your stomach.

Kimi's eyes sparkled as she stared at the screen that was just above the red reception desk. Looking at the images of the celebration of Sebastian Vettel's last victory, in Belgium, the previous year. Kimi was probably imagining himself in the German driver's shoes, winning trophies in those legendary red overalls. You were imagining the same thing as you went to greet him

— Good morning, Kimi! — you said happily — How are you?

— I’m fine, Y/N, looking forward to seeing everything — he replied, as his father smiled at you.

— We appreciate your invitation, Y/N, it was very generous of you to invite us to Maranello — Marco said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

— It was the least I could do for our future academy driver. Shall we start with a little tour?

You guided the boy and his father through the Gestione Sportiva, pleased with the absolute enchantment on Kimi’s face. He seemed interested in every aspect of the factory, asking questions and revealing a bit of his own familiarity with it all, considering he had grown up around racing cars.

However, you were most looking forward to showing him the simulator. All of the academy drivers used it, including the team’s Formula 1 drivers.Something told you he would love to try it himself, and after a few conversations with the simulation engineers, you got the go-ahead for him to do a few laps himself.

As you told him this, Kimi’s face broke into a broad smile.

— Are you serious? Like, really?

— Of course, do you think I would joke about such a thing?

— This is amazing! Thank you, Y/N — he exclaimed, giving you a hug. You reciprocated almost immediately. Your heart felt warm and full.

During your time negotiating with Kimi and his family, you couldn’t help but develop a fondness for him. It was something simple and sincere, similar to the affection you felt for the other drivers at the academy, who you were proud to call “my boys”. And you were sure that Kimi would be part of that little family that you had formed inside Ferrari.

With a generic overalls and a helmet provided by the simulation engineers, the boy sat in the cockpit in silence, while the virtual version of Monza was set up for him to do a few laps.

— Charles broke the record for this track — Ash muttered, as he typed something on the computer.

— What was his time?

— 1:20'05'' — he replied, starting the simulation.

Seeing Kimi’s speed in a kart was already impressive, but you were astonished seeing the ease with which he piloted the single-seater, even if it was just a simulacrum. It didn't take the boy long to adjust to the buttons and controls on the steering wheel and to do several quick laps, the surroundings of the circuit becoming a blur on the screen, as he accelerated through the curves.

— Fuck…

— What? — you asked, noticing Ash's surprise as he stared at his workstation.

— That’s not possible — he continued to type something into the computer, before looking at you, wide-eyed — He’s beaten Charles’ time.

You downed the rest of the drink in front of you. The memory of the boy's expression in front of you was too painful, even more so considering that you were the one who caused it.

— Well, he needed a place where he could develop— you answered, without looking at him — And Mercedes was the only place he could go.

— But…

— I took him to Maranello, back in February, with his father — you continued, your eyes fixed on your hands — He was so happy, Toto, so excited. I showed them everything I could, even the simulator. Did you know that he beat the lap time record at Monza?

— Who’s time did he break?

— Charles — you said, smiling wanly — Ash, the engineer who operates the simulator, was shocked, but I knew he could do it. It was fate. We had to get him for Ferrari, there was no other team, but… when it came time to put pen to paper, it all went wrong.

Toto remained silent, his fingers tracing the star on the beer bottle. Maybe he wasn't sure what to say at that moment, maybe it was a silent invitation to keep talking, so that’s what you did

— I had scheduled a meeting with Maurizio so we could finalize the last details of his academy contract. He already knew everything about Kimi, I had already spoken about him more than the other drivers in our program — you said, a pained smile on your face — He even told me that he was looking forward to meeting him and…

Suddenly, your eyes filled with tears of frustration, your lower lip trembling. It was as if all the feelings you had been building up inside you had found a way to escape, revealing all your anger and guilt for what had happened in the boardroom.

— We sat down with Maurizio and he started a whole speech about how he'd seen videos and numbers and had listened to me ramble on about him for hours and was really curious to meet him — you continued — After a few minutes of conversation, I asked if we had a proposal ready to present to them and Maurizio said no, because the academy would not sign Kimi.

— But you said…

— Maurizio said he was impressed, that his numbers were good and that he believed in his potential, but that Kimi was too young. He didn't want to invest in the development of a kid who wasn’t even in single-seaters yet, and the academy didn’t take on drivers that were still in karting. He just dumped Kimi, Toto — you said quietly, working up the courage to look at him.

Toto’s expression was soft, almost as if he was acknowledging that this was hurting you deeply. Then, in a move you weren’t expecting, Toto leaned over and wrapped his arms around you, in a tender and sincere hug. It made you cry even more, because he was approaching a facet of yourself that you didn’t show most people.

— You know that doesn't mean you're a bad professional, right? — you heard him say softly, close to your ear — Things don't always work out and that's okay.

Then you looked up at him.

— It’s not so much that they didn’t work out for me, Toto — you said, sniffling — It's that they didn’t work out for Kimi.

You felt dizzy as you accompanied Marco and Kimi to the reception area of the Gestione. Maurizio had never even hinted that he wouldn’t take Kimi into the academy, quite the contrary. He’d gotten your hopes up, which caused you to get Kimi’s hopes up in turn. Hearing Maurizio say he wasn't interested in signing Kimi was like being jolted from a sound sleep by being doused in a bucket of ice water. What made things even worse was that Kimi had ceased talks with other driver academies and other potential sponsors. Ferrari was what had mattered, and Ferrari simply let him go.

— Well, that wasn't the end I envisioned for our day — you started, only to be interrupted by Kimi.

— Why did you say that?

— Say what?

— Why did you say you wanted me, Y/N? — he asked. He sounded upset. The way he looked at you made something inside his chest sink.

— Because we wanted you, Kimi. I talked to Maurizio, he showed interest, he was willing, I don't know what happened — you started stuttering, your nerves getting the better of you.

— I thought you wanted to support me, that you wanted to be part of my future…

— I do, Kimi…

— Then why did you lie!? — he yelled. It made you shiver. You imagined this would look strange from the outside, a 12-year-old boy yelling at someone old enough to be his mother — You said they would accept me, I believed you!

— Son, please — Marco said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

— Kimi, I'm sorry, I didn't know what he was going to say — the look in his eyes made you stop talking. His eyes were full of tears, his jaw set. He didn't want to cry, but at the same time, it was like he was making every effort not to break down. Then, without saying a word, he turned and walked towards the revolving door that led to the street, without looking back.

— Sorry about that, Y/N — Marco said quickly, his eyes glued to the boy as he walked towards the parking lot — I understand your reasons, but at the same time, I can't help but feel sad to see my son like that. You know how it is for a parent, right?

The last sentence made you freeze. You didn't know how it was for a parent. You didn’t have kids. “It’s not like I’ll ever know”, you thought as the boy's father said goodbye and left you behind.

— So, you called me — Toto murmured, his eyes locked with yours.

— For some time now, I've seen these kids as more than just talent. A lot of them come to Europe alone in search of their own dreams and leave their families behind, and don’t have anyone they can count on, other than their academies and teams. When I say I see the academy drivers as my boys, it's because I mean it. I see them as my family, a part of me — you hesitated for a few seconds, wondering if you should finish your thought, but you did anyway — Like the children I'll never have.

— Don't you want to be a mother?

— It's not a question of wanting to. It's a matter of not being able to.

Another awkward silence followed, filled by the ambient conversations in the bar. Even still, it was like you’d lobbed a grenade and you were waiting for the explosion. However, Toto didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out and brushed a lock of your hair that was falling over your eye with a strange tenderness. It was strange, considering your relationship was professional, but antagonistic, but you didn’t shy away.

— You can’t have kids?

— No.

— I'm sorry — he said softly — I'm really sorry.

Toto's expression was laden with sincerity. The way his brows were furrowed and his eyes locked with yours were ample proof that, in the midst of all your silly jockeying for talent in the motorsport world, he was a kind, caring man. And that scared you a little.

— I'll survive — you said, wiping your face and pulling away from him.

— But if it makes you suffer — he began.

— That's not what makes me suffer — you snapped.

— Y/N, you just told me that you see the academy drivers as your children because you can't have any, clearly this is a psychological response to your suffering…

You looked at him, with a serious expression.

— Are you my therapist now?

— I'm just stating the obvious here.

Your eyes went back to your empty glass. You traced the drops of condensation on the outside with your fingers as you considered his words. There was nothing to say, especially when you knew he was right. However, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving him another win, especially when he had already won so much from you these last few months.

You caught the bartender’s eye and ordered another Aperol spritz, neither you or Toto saying anything until another glass was placed in front of you. There was something depressing about crying to your professional rival in a bar, but then again, there wasn't much to do. These feelings had been inside of you so long that they flooded out as soon as someone asked.

— What now?

— What? — you asked, before taking a sip of your drink.

— What will you do?

— Honestly? I don't know. After what Maurizio did to me and Kimi, it just feels like I’ve been betrayed. I don’t even want to look Maurizio in the eye right now.

Toto looked at you, looking surprised.

— Is that why you’re not in the same hotel as the rest of your team? — he asked, earning a raised eyebrow in response — I should have known something was wrong.

— I’ve just gotten the feeling lately that my input isn’t… valued. But at the same time, I don't really know what to do.

— Why don't you get out of there?

— And where would I go, Toto? — you asked. In the end, that was the big question. It wouldn’t be easy to leave Ferrari, from a bureaucratic point of view. They might whine about your years of service to the team and try and guilt you into staying, or even offer you a big pay raise. But in the end, you could walk away. But then what?

— Well, Mercedes needs an academy director — he muttered. His voice was strangely casual as he picked up his beer and took another sip.

— Are you offering me a job?

— No — Toto said, a smile on his face — It’s just an observation. I’ve tried to get everything set up, but now that we have an academy in earnest, I can't dedicate myself to it the way I'd like to, because of my other obligations. I would need someone to do it and I would want someone with responsibility, intelligence, experience, and the love for what they do

— That sounds a lot like a job offer, you know that, right?

— Would you accept it if it were?

— Well — you said, but hesitated. There was one crucial detail: the first driver supported by the Mercedes driver academy was Kimi, and you doubted the boy would ever want to see you again — I don't know. I think your new driver wouldn't want to see me there…

— Kimi and his father know that you were the one who referred him to me — he said.

Your eyes widened.

— They know?

— Yes. And I believe they were very happy about it. You didn't fail him, Y/N, or destroy his dream. You gave him a chance, even if it meant he was going to a rival academy. And personally, I find that admirable.

— Is that something you would admire in an academy director?

— I appreciate the human aspect of people, Y/N. And you, despite usually being a moody thorn in my side, are a good person. That’s what I admire about you.

You felt a warmth growing in your chest. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. You downed the rest of your drink in one go before getting up from the stool you were sitting on.

— Where are you going?

— To my room, I have a race to watch tomorrow — you replied, arranging your bag over your shoulder.

— You didn't answer me about my offer — he said, leaning an elbow on the bar.

— You said it wasn't a job offer, Wolff.

— What if it is, Y/L/N?

— I'm going to need to think about this — you said, trying not to smile.

— Want to have dinner with me tomorrow to talk about it?

You raised an eyebrow.

— Is that you asking me on a date?

— Maybe.

— Christian will be jealous.

He gave you a smirk.

— I hope so — Toto replied — So, do you accept?

You squeezed the handle of your bag.

— At seven, here?

— Perfect.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #formula 1 one shot #wlffog #oneshotwlff

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passthroughtime · 10 months ago

Text

i've had this (and following) post for quite some time now in my drafts, because i have planned to make them a series but post all at the same time, but i i guess it will never happen. so, i'll post what i have because deleting them would be a waste either way. everything below is how i wrote it a month ago.

i wanted to think aloud why i write kuwagami the way i write them (as an excuse to go insane, re-watch every cutscene there is and over-analyze everything i can get my hands on). spoilers, delusions and some pathetic bitchy grown-ass men ahead.

part two is here.

i think they are so hard to get right (for me, at least), because each time they meet, they act differently around each other. like. literally every time. and we are forced to look at their relationship from the yagami's pov, who's the most volatile in this regard. if kuwana could've known yagami's past, gather other's impressions about him (sawa's of course, but also sugiura and tsukumo) even before they met, then yagami is kind of... far behind on that lol, and his prejudices hold him back further down the plot. he doesn't really understand (or rather, want to understand) kuwana until after the boat scene, while kuwana earlier expresses that yeah, he knew that yagami would say that.

but i'm getting ahead of myself there. let's start from the beginning.

part 1: before they met

yeah okay, i kinda embellished that part, it doesn't seem that sawa shares something substantial about yagami. but, at that point, kuwana doesn't really consider yagami much of a threat, though of course hasn't brushed him off completely. his main focus at the moment is, of course, sawa, who, as far as he knows, is the closest to discovering the truth.

so, getting rid of a prying detective is like killing two birds with one stone but you wouldn't be upset if one of them survived. or something. even though yagami appears in the picture way too early, kuwana underestimates him. he doesn't have a reason not to, there is no indication he did any digging at this moment. otherwise he would know that this detective is no pushover.

sawa doesn't really underestimate yagami at this point, as she is the one who informs kuwana of a new threat. though i think she uses yagami more than cares about kuwana this much: she knows that this piece of information will provoke kuwana to make a move, if she's right in her suspicions about him.

how kuwana knows where they'll meet? sawa tells him, straight up. there are only two ways anybody's going to know the location: through yagami and through sawa. yagami doesn't express the need to sabotage his own investigation, so she must've been threatened by someone who knows about the place from her. and, as far as we know, there's only one person who she shares the location with. the person she's suspicious of.

in this situation, kuwana is pretty reckless. though can't really blame him, he already has a lot on his plate atp i guess.

about the sugiura and tsukumo part: i need to clarify that it's all a speculation, OBVIOUSLY.

we don't see the first reaction kuwana has to hearing yagami's name, so i can't be certain if he heard it before or not. so, there are several possibilities

possibility 1, the easiest: he never heard of him before. perfectly explains why he underestimates him that much and has no reason to thoroughly investigate the guy. even if the circumstances of his appearance are quite troubling, he doesn't have enough time and ground to be wary of him. after all, there's sawa who knows much more about kuwana.

possibility 2: he heard yagami's name from sawa, and not from sugiura and tsukumo. maybe, kuwana hasn't had enough time to do a basic research. just take a second to google him. i'm sure he'd find some troubling things about his past and what he'd capable of. (because yeah, like nobody ever mentioned some dude was kind of a reason why the vice minister of health has resigned, or something. sure.) or maybe kuwana is that reckless actually. i have my doubts about this possibility actually, which i'll talk about in length in the next post.

possibility 3: he heard yagami's name from sugiura and tsukumo, and not from sawa. it's always possible that yokohama 99 might have explained why they moved out of kamurocho, even if they've never mentioned the name of yagami's agency. they've had a nice chat, after all.

they have no reason to withhold this information. MAYBE they share it, and MAYBE that is another reason why after their first meeting kuwana starts to treat yagami differently, — he recognises what yagami is capable of. or actually, finally does some reseach.

possibility 4, unlikely: he heard yagami's name from all three of them and, somehow, it doesn't ring a bell. absolutely none. detective + yagami = who's this? never heard of him. ...or he thinks everything that 99 said to him is utter bullshit, and the guy is nothing to be scared of.

well. either way,

#kuwagami #judge eyes #i don't really care enough to tag this properly aside from my blog's nav in the future so. yeah #putting letters together one word at a time

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2catsinaboat · 1 year ago

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POTC fanfic I wrote a while ago and never shared.

It's a rough outline in the beginning part but I wrote a bit better at the end😅 it's really only like the beginning of a fanfic but I don't think I'm going to write anymore so I thought I should share it.

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POTC-bloodthirsty Elizabeth

Brigadier butcher-goes after the corrupt officers

Much more bloodthirsty than normal

Story starts out when she’s 14.

She stays out at a dance very late and accepts a gentlemen’s invitation to accompany her home. In carriage together, he grips her arm, and she gets scared. He asks her to watch the sunrise with him and she agrees. So they walk towards the harbor, and he begins to push her against a wall, covering her mouth. She’s terrified and struggles but he’s stronger. And all she can think about is trying to get out of the situation. Dissociates sorta, takes a step outside of her normal self and looks and the situation with calm indifferent “logic”. So she forces her trembling fingers to find the whale-bone knife hidden in her corset, the latest fashion, and bite the hand that is covering her mouth. She tastes blood and likes it. The guy does not and he slaps her. Then he grins at her, an awful lecherous smile. Now she’s terrified and pissed, and in her fury, she stabs him to death, matching his own smile with a predatory, righteous one of her own.

When she starts to realize the outside world and what she has just done, she is covered in his blood. She begins to fear that she’s insane and terrible but she gets herself calm enough to rid herself of her dress and toss it in the harbor tied around a bunch of stones. And then she gets back to the carriage, mind reeling. The footmen assume the worst, rape, and don’t question her about anything, making sure to get her home very fast.

She stays in her room for the next few months, mind replaying the event over and over. She knows she in the right, never doubted it, but it’s a bit difficult to accept you have the power to end someone’s life just like that. But she does, proud of defending herself and ridding the world of such an awful man. So she picks up knives. Finds herself a set of decent throwing and cutting ones and gets to work practicing. All the time she has in her room, much more than she had before the incident, she practices. She gets quick, very quick with them, and precise as well. She can manipulate the blade in such a way it’s as if it’s part of her own being. So she feels good about going out, knows she can defend herself and if something were to happen she’ll be ready and willing, very willing, to kill. She kills another person when she’s 15 and a half. Its late at night and she was out with her father who has just lessened her protection after her incident and she’s walking back home enjoying the night air. Just as she’s about to leave the town, she gets stopped with a pistol to her back. Someone’s robbing her. They force her into and alley an she lets them, a bit worried about bringing a knife to a gun fight. They’re gruff and harsh, shoving her into a wall and groping at her. The moment they have her turn around to hand her belongings over, her knife slips out and slices their hand holding the pistol. And then it slices their throat. It’s all over, they’re bleeding out, in a matter of seconds, barely enough time to let out a yelp. And she covers their mouth with her hand , eyes sharp and dangerous, a finger to her lip in a gesture to keep them silent, lips quirked in a half smile. She watches as they die, finding nothing but indifference that they have done so, wiping her blade on their jacket and realizing that once again she’s covered in blood. Luckily its only the front and she has another skirt underneath, she changes and tears up her bloodied skirt, covering her top with her jacket. She grabs the man’s gun and brings it home with her.

Now she’s a bit more confident and she wants to be even more so, so she decides to pick of shooting, joining her father for different hunts and even going into the garden at night to practice. She gets good, really good, good enough that she can draw a pistol from her skirts and shoot it in less than 3 seconds. And as such, she no longer needs to worry about staining her clothes. Any person who crosses her, comes to a swift end, she wishes for freedom and no one will stand in her way.

The first time she takes a life as debt for someone else, is when she’s 16. She’s confident in herself, poised and intelligent, having had the best tutors around to educate her not only in society but in a variety of other subjects that her father wished for her to learn. But she is not world-wise yet, has not had the chance to learn much about life below her station, so she is content with gaining a small portion of freedom for herself in the form of protection and strength, and nothing more. She is out at dusk again, blades and pistol strapped under her jacket, looking out at the sunset, when she hears stumbling and shoving. Then muffled shouting. She grabs her pistol, heart steady, realizing that she has a chance to do what others did not. It’s dark in the alley way, and she struggles to find the two shadows hunched in a doorway. But then a knifepoint glints in the rising moon and she sees the scene clear as day. A dark-skinned young woman, barely older than Elizabeth herself, most likely a maid by the look of her clothes, is clutching a bundle of fabric to her chest while pleading for the man to leave her alone. Tears run down her face, wide eyes full of fear, and Elizabeth’s righteous anger turn to bloodthirst, her hand itching to plunge her knife deep into the awful man’s chest.

Instead, she calls out,

“How dare you attack a woman” her voice is as steady as she can make it with her blood coursing through her in a tempo of rage.

The man turns to her now, swaying drunkenly into the sliver of moonlight and reveling himself further. He’s an officer, she realizes, a high-ranking one, with a mean snarl upon his flushed face, hand still clutching the woman’s arm in whats bound to be a bruising grip.

“I’mma not gonna listen to ‘nother bitch talkn’ ab-”

A shot rings out, bouncing off the brick. It slices into the silence in a violent, deadly, crack. Then a piercing scream follows it in a terrible sort of echoing resonance. And it’s loud, loud enough to nearly revive the dead-man on the ground.

“Run” Elizabeth shouts, at the woman, frozen still, eyes fixed on the bullet lodged in the man’s heart. “Run, they’ll have heard you! You must get out of here!” She shouts again, desperation beginning to creep into her tone. The woman glances in the towards the alley entrance where Elizabeth is hidden, wide eyes filled with shock and fear, search for answers in the darkness and then a moment later she turns and sprints away, leather soles slapping in an ever-quieting beat. Elizabeth prays that the woman knows not to tell someone what happened and then steps out of the shadows and gets to work.

It isn’t hard now, dealing with a corpse. She feels little fear for herself, and lets her mind wander to different mundane things while she makes quick work of undressing the man. It’s almost routine by now, and Elizabeth buries the part of her that revels in that fact. Her jacket is going to be ruined of course, so she pockets his coin pouch as payment and then begins what’s bound to be the worst part of this whole ordeal. She hasn’t done this before, the first man she dumped into the harbor and the second was some low-life mugger who no one missed. But this man is probably well known, his identity would be easy to realize, and the navy would want someone’s blood to pay for the justice delt against the crimes this man committed in his life. So, she draws out her blade, no longer needing to be deadly, but still just as sharp, and does what needs to be done.

Blood soaks the air in a pungent stench that’s bound to cling to her skirts. Sweat drips down her forehead and her arms begin to ache from the amount of unskilled hacking she has been doing. But she steadies onwards, ignoring the way the blood in her veins sings at the sight, or the way her heart curls like a wolf licking its grinning lips after a hunt, pleased yet never satiated. Instead, she’s quick and efficient, focuses on the present and never once cares to wonder about why she doesn’t find this as repulsive as she should.

She returns home jacketless, with twice the number of coin-purses and pistols than she had before she set out. When questioned about her missing jacket she replies that she must have forgotten it in the carriage even though she knows it’s sunk deep beneath the hungry waves, wrapping the man’s severed head in a silky tomb. She doesn’t think about the killing until her father brings it up a few days later, instead she finds herself returning to the tortured look upon the young woman’s face. Revisits the pain she felt for the woman in that situation, realizing how many others must face similar dealings with no one to save them, and most aren’t like Elizabeth. And then, her thoughts drift to the feeling of the blood thrumming in her veins when she confronted that man, when she repaid his violence twofold and satiated some of the bloodlust within her. Because, as much as she’s tried to deny it, bury it deep within herself, begging for it to never be found, she yearns for blood and violence, yearns to quench the hunger inside her that demands bloody justice against those who have wronged her or people that she deems should not be harmed. It’s a voice inside that twists and turns, pacing like a starving wolf, sneering, and snarling with shiny, white teeth, it’s a voice that gives two lies for every truth, that hisses and spits vitriol until she gives in, one that is never satiated, only ever quieting for a moment when there’s enough blood and violence to drown it out. And then it’s worse, the once starving wolf grinning a satisfied, ever-hungry smile, yellow eyes reflecting the same murderous intent that Elizabeth is sure is gleaming in her own.

She finds a balance eventually, between her bloodlust, hunger for freedom, and dwindling morals. It takes a while and more missteps, either by nearly getting caught or being unable to calm her mind enough, than she would like, but she gets there in the end. It’s an odd sort of life she’s found, or more accurately, carved for herself in the underbelly of the world. It’s deadly and diseased, shady, and full of all sorts of filth, but she’s free to be as ruthless as she pleases there, and that’s all she truly craves.

She’s just returned to the pub, a rotten sort of place that has more whores than mugs of ale, she’s claimed as her second home, when she gets the first glimpse of him, a pirate. At first, before she began developing this path for herself, she had wistfully daydreamed about being a pirate and reigning over the sea with all the freedom in the world. It was always in the sort of fantastical sense that ignored most of reality, and she quickly lost those dreams when her focus turned towards actual life and the blood that had come to rule it. But now, she passively wonders as she swirls her mug of stale ale, if her daydreams would somehow work themselves into her new life. She is bound to be caught sooner or later, even if she prides herself on being ruthless and careful, no one’s too good to not get found out and she knows she’s used up most of her luck already. So maybe it would make sense to bring herself into a profession that was well known for their battles and lower the risk of getting her neck snapped by the crown when she slipped up. She sighs quietly and readjusts her slouch on the sticky table, eyes scanning the crowd for the pirate again. She isn’t sure how she knows he’s a pirate since he’s dressed like every other sailor around here, but there’s a pulling in her gut when she spies him again, knocking back another ale with a woman sitting in his lap, and with all the rumors she’s gleaned from the locals, she’s certain of what he is. There’s no use in just watching him though, so Elizabeth pushes herself from the wobbly chair and makes her way towards the man.

“I need a minute of your time” She states, just loud enough to catch the man’s attention.

He smiles lazily, a wide disgusting grin that stokes the hunger inside her.

“Sure, wouldn’t want a pretty miss like yer’ self to get lonely…”

The woman in his lap curses at her when he pushes her away and leans closer to where Elizabeth stands. The sliver of bloodlust that constantly lingers, curls like a snake in her gut, lighting her insides in burning flames that she knows can only be extinguished with the demanded blood. It’s a curse that all women are born to endure, she’s come to realize, one that even the most gruesome acts cannot cure, to be seen as something rather than someone. The slinking wolf inside her, howls to paint this man in his own blood, to make him a pretty object in turn.

“I’d rather be lonely, but that’s not what I’m asking” She hisses out, trying to regain control of herself. “I’m here to inquire about your profession.”

“Ahh a lass that’s wanting to try her hand at a bit of piracy then eh? …I could help ye’ out, on the condition that I’s gets somethin’ in return.”

She sits down into the chair across from him, body tense and jaw clenched.

“I don’t need any help, just information on the next ship that’s coming by.”

“That still counts as a good bit of help miss.”

“Fine” she says, fishing out one of the purses she freed from the dead tonight and tosses it on the table between them. “Is this enough for what I want?”

“Hmm….that’s a bit more like it.. I guess we gotta deal then.” Stained fingers snatch the coin away, no doubt to be used to pay the woman for earlier. “There’s a ship headin’ this way, pro- probly gettin’ here in boutta week. It’s big enough to store away on if yer’ got someone to get ye aboard. That’s all I’s can say on that meself…but if that’s done, what say this pretty miss an’ me go up to my room…”

She leaves with blood covered knuckles and the echoes of indignant shouts, mind caught in a riptide of thoughts as the possibility of escape being so close at hand, sinks in. It’s a hesitant sort of…something, tentative and unsure, that she cradles in her belly as she makes her way back home. Sticking with the alleyways and shadows, she traces the familiar route, trained eyes, searching for signs of any creeping danger that is stupid enough to come out when she is prowling around. Her father is really the only thing keeping her here, she thinks, as she skirts around the dancing shadows in the shine of a gas lamp. He is the only thing tying Elizabeth to this island and condemning the foolish men who wander too brazenly about. Marching footsteps chorus through the streets breaking the still night air and she ducks back into the alley. The crown has not taken her dealings lightly, increasing patrols and instating a curfew, even going so far as promoting Norrington to the rank of Commodore. And he isn’t as stupid as she’d like, knows her too well for comfort, even though his prejudice would most likely make him blind to the secrets she carries. The noise has died away, and she slinks out of the alley. Her father, as indulgent as he is, has made his thoughts about the relationship she could have with Norrington known. Another reason to leave this bloody rock behind for clearer waters. Her heart tosses and turns like a ship caught in a storm as she climbs the wall of the estate. Its child’s play by now, handholds so familiar that she wouldn’t need to look where they are, even if she could see through the darkness. As she jumps down, soft soles of her leather boots thumping quietly on the dirt, she forces her heart to settle. She resolves to dwell on all this later, hopefully while she’s out stalking her prey since her mind is always sharper during a hunt.

It starts as the dream always starts. Salt air sticky on her face, whipping it raw and settling her stomach. The bobbing of the ship is second nature now and she’s sure she’ll lose all her steadiness when they return to land. Norrington’s here, and the other man, she can’t seem to remember his name, but her lips utter it anyway. She asks after pirates, all fairy-tale villains to her young mind, mysterious and intriguing, and always bloody, in a way that has her almost frightened of her own interest. The wreckage appears, a phantom corpse in the mist, echoing past battles that make Elizabeth’s heartbeat faster. Then of course, she spies Will, laying half drowned on a board and as cold as death itself.

The scene shifts then, breaking from the usual happenings and skipping forward. They overlap and cut into one another as if she can see into the present and future at the same time. But this isn’t the future, she’s sure it isn’t, because the floating wreckage is still there and burning, and their ship is still sailing past, the man, Gibb’s, she knows his name now, is still dressed as before, but he’s older now, face scarred. He mutters something that Elizabeth can only catch as “Bloody brigadier butcher.” And Will is there, looking older as well, pale and gaunt as a ghost and she knows if she were able to reach out and touch his face, he’d be as cold as the sea again. She blinks, shifting back to the scene before, watching a younger Will be dragged aboard, medallion glinting on his neck like a bounty on his head or maybe payment for the ferryman. They lay him out on the deck and seawater clings to him, refusing to give him up. The sea will always keep her dead, in someway or another. Then the other layer washes up, an older Will, with bloodshot eyes that see too little or too much, reaches out towards her, and the horizon, saying her name like a dead man says a prayer,

“Elizabeth”

His voice is water-logged and hoarse and every breath he draws rattles the saltwater in his lungs. He gets louder, nearly screaming out for her. It’s an agony she’s seen before, on the men who have been dealt her wrath. But they deserved it, and he does not. Horror sweeps over her and she tries desperately to call back, to show she’s there, to end his suffering.

But then she’s back to before. Norrington and Gibbs, her father and the crew anxiously rushing about. She’s kneeling at Will’s side, hands clutching at the medallion. Her gaze slides from Will’s young face to the piece of gold.

Blood soaks it all.

It doesn’t stop, flowing in a sticky spring from her grasp. A metallic scent stains the sea air, quieting the hunger inside. Her hands paint Will’s still body a deep carnal red. Something in her gut curls satisfied. She should shout or move but she’s frozen in place. Forced to watch this play out.

An older Will screams out for her again, chest heaving beneath her, the other scene slipping in. His freezing body is now bathed in the burning blood that does not stop, does not end.

His eyes meet hers, piercing and dead.

He screams again, pained sobs slicing Elizabeth’s soul. The crew runs frantically about, ever increasing in number. Blood pools all around them, seeping into the deck.

It’s gruesome and horrid, Elizabeth’s broken heart purrs at the sight.

From the helm, Gibb’s muttering has turned into a shouting, taunting, chant that she now see’s her father and Norrington have joined. Anger, betrayal, and a thousand other emotions, are cast upon their faces, twisting them into grim mockery of who she knows. She can’t face them; she turns back to Will.

Chaos reigns over the stage she’s on.

And it lasts for hours.

It lasts for seconds.

It lasts for days and days, and barely even a breath.

And finally, at the end of it all, she cries. Her sobs ring out across the deck, anguished and full of bloodlust, guilt-ridden yet satisfied, all caged in an endless battle that claws from Elizabeth’s throat.

“Oh, Captain Swann, how lovely to see you mate,”

She whips her head around, blinking away the saltwater that clings to her lashes, trying desperately to find the source of the arrogant voice. The deck is still flooding with blood and crew and it takes a few frantic moments but then, she spots him. He’s a man she’s never seen before, face filthy and dressed in ragged clothes, wearing a very pleased smirk. He meets her gaze, hand tipping his hat in salute and his lips stretch into a grin.

“I’ll see you soon, Elizabeth.”

And the last thing she see’s before red crashes over her in a tidal wave of death, is the ‘P’ branded upon his wrist.

She wakes with a scream and the smell of blood in her nose. Heart pounding in time with her head. Throwing her covers off, frantic and dazed, she hurries to search her dresser for the first bit of gold she stole. When she finally opens the false bottom of her dresser drawer, it’s sitting there dust covered and unbloodied, far from the fountain of red it seemed to be in her dream. She sighs and relaxes her shoulders, mind slowing from the tumbling nightmare she woke from. The gold piece feels comforting in her hand as she flips it between her fingers, inspecting the thing for any strange qualities. She lets it dangle on it’s chain for a moment and, in a moment of curiosity, fastens it around her neck.

#pirates of the caribbean #potc #elizabeth swann #fanfic #my writing

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years ago

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Golden (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: you are in a relationship with kakaski, but after an accident, you have amnesia, and can’t remember him anymore. angst baby. Very feminine Civilian!reader (you own a bookstore, so cliche lmao) essentially, this series is mindless romantic indulgences i wrote mostly for myself, but if other people can enjoy them then i did my job as a fanfic writer.

A/N: im definitely not writing a fanfic for every song on fine line...haha

Word count: 5600

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He lay awake at night after the incident, imagining the moment he truly knew he was in love with her. Completely infatuated with this beautiful woman working at the bookstore. It was the only thing he could do now that his entire world had come crashing around him. With everything that happened in the hospital, this was the only way he knew how to cope.

He drifted off into the dream once again.

Kakashi stood by the front gates of the village, a paperback book he had just bought in his hand, folded over so he could read with one hand. One more time before he left for this mission, one he knew would last longer than anyone would like, he visited the old bookstore in town. He wanted to think he just stopped by to stock up on reading material, but that wasn’t it.

It was always about her.

When he saw Y/N running up to him, her apron nearly falling off and her hair in disarray, his eyes widened and he set the book down by his side. She was out of breath when she got to him, pressing her hands to her chest to get herself put together. Her brows furrowed deeply as she lifted her eyes to meet his.

“Kakashi,” she exclaimed.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“I know you’re going on this long mission and you won’t be around for a few months, and I can’t stand the thought of you leaving without me telling you this,” she said, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t insanely curious what she had to say. She was a sweet village girl, and he frequented her store, quite a bit actually. On occasion, he would drop by a few times in a day just to say hello. He definitely wasn’t slick.

He waited for her to continue and she didn’t hesitate. “Every time you leave, I get this pain in my chest. I worry about you day and night because I know the life of a shinobi is never guaranteed. I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you this time, if I kept acting like the coward I am.”

“I see? Well, what’s on your mind?”

“I-I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, and I don’t know how to deal with it, so here goes,” she told him, taking a deep breath before her next words, “I think I’m in love with you, Kakashi Hatake. I think I’ve loved you since the first time you stepped foot in my parents store.”

“I…”

What was he supposed to say to that?

“You don’t have to say anything back. It doesn’t bother me, I know how closed off you ninja are. Just please, take my words and hold them close on your journeys.” She paused, clenching her soft fists by her sides. She wasn’t scared of rejection, not at all. She was only scared that Kakashi might not care about her words at all. “Please, don’t forget someone loves you.”

In that moment, he felt his heart stop beating, only for a second, but he felt it. Shifted awkwardly, not wanting to let off that he was getting even a little emotional at her declaration. He was tough as nails, the copy-nin. Not some lover boy, even if he wanted to be. Even if he wanted to swoop in right then and kiss her to pieces.

All he could say was, “I’ll keep that in my mind. Thank you, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome. Now, don’t fool around out there so you can come back to me in one piece!” she laughed, feeling tears bubbling up in the corners of her eyes.

He found himself smiling back at the young woman. “You got it.”

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Kakashi was never really one to express his feelings. Generally, he kept them inside to mourn alone. It was just in his nature, it was nothing personal with the people he knew and trusted. There was just something about Y/N that made him drop down some of those thick barriers.

His girlfriend was a normal woman, working long shifts in the village bookstore since she was a teenager. She never attended the academy, wasn't chakra sensitive, nothing in particular was so outstanding that she was noticed. Nothing on the surface, actually.

It was her smile and her laugh, the way she could make anyone feel like they were important and wanted, that attracted Kakashi to her in the first place. From the first time they met as teenagers in the bookstore aisles, he knew he was caught in some sort of trap. For a minute, he compared the feeling to that of a genjutsu, even though he knew that was far from a possibility.

To him, when she smiled, it felt as if everything was going to be okay. All the pain and suffering disappeared when she was around. He really couldn’t understand how that could be happening, with the world crumbling around him everyday.

That was a particularly rare attribute among ninja folk, whose lives led them to believe that happiness wasn’t achievable and death was common; pain was so normal for him. It was refreshing to have someone around who didn't think like that, that could change the tone of a room in a moment with just an ounce of positive energy. Y/N was innocent to the majority of these harsh realities that the ninja faced, for the most part.

As with most people in the village, her parents lost their lives during the invasion of the nine tails. She was alone for a long time, but despite that, she tried to find joys in reading, in stacking new books on shelves, in talking to unique individuals that would stop by. And as she aged, she realized her most favorite customer was one with a masked face, and a love of gushy, perverted novels.

She was even friends with some of his closest friends, Gai, Yamato, Sakura. She reached out to them, getting visits here and there while she worked during the day. After he informed his closest companions of his blossoming affair with the bookstore girl, they just had to get in an insider view. They kept visiting after the first meetings. Sakura bringing lunch, Yamato helping her with repairs, and Gai just bringing his brightest smile and a boatload of jokes and giggles to share at the front counter.

It was only a matter of time before they fell into some weird friendship, a civilian and one of the top shinobi of their village. He was gone half the time on missions, and sometimes, when he was ANBU, she wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. Occasionally, when a mission was long and difficult, she would hear pawing at her window late into the night. When she pulled back the blinds, a small dog would be sitting there with a folded piece of paper in his mouth, waiting for her to take it.

She loved those letters, they became her prized possessions. There was nothing else she loved more in the world than seeing his kind words written out on paper, his declarations of love that he would never dare say aloud. To him, it was easier to say those things on paper, to not be around when she read about his feelings for her. He was still attentive and kind to her in person, but the letters spoke with a romanticism that he couldn’t.

Y/N practically glowed when she spoke to him, so in love with him she could barely keep it restrained. He knew this. He knew she was as deeply in love with him as he was entranced with her. It had been 5 years since they started dating, and he prolonged the inevitable path of marriage as long as he could. Having a girlfriend was one thing, but marrying someone felt like a burden he couldn’t shoulder. He wanted to, but it just seemed like too much work, too much risk.

After years, he realized the waiting just wasn’t worth it. They were only getting older as the time went by. She just warmed his empty heart, he knew that was something only she could do for him. He needed that.

And that's why he sat in the comfort of Ichiraku, Sakura by his side, sipping on some soup. She was the only one he truly trusted with this knowledge, the only one who could give him genuine advice. He just needed to tell someone what he was about to do. He sat there, his fingers hovering over his pants pocket, eyes trailed down at the table.

"What did you want to talk about, Sensei?" She had asked.

"You really like Y/N, right? Think she's good for me?"

She smiled with a small nod. "Of course. Y/N is so sweet. She makes you so happy I can tell. I think it's really good for you." It was true. Sakura didn’t know what her sensei was like before he met the woman. That was years ago before she was even born. What she did know is that someone with that much pain seeping from his heart could use some love in his life, a stable shoulder to lean onto. If anyone was stable, it was her. Without any cares in the world other than worrying for her boyfriend and keeping her business afloat. Her trauma was behind her, unlike some of the shinobi that carry those with them for the rest of their lives. Guilt, anger, resentment.

He pulled a tiny, drawstring bag from his pocket and fiddled with the strings between his fingers. "When I was in the Land of Fire last month, I picked this up from a merchant," he explained, pulling open the bag and pouring out the contents. A small ring clicked against the bar table. "Take a look, tell me what you think."

She dropped her spoon and reached over for the ring, holding it gently with the pads of her fingertips. It was beautiful. It sparkled like sunlight hitting clear blue waters. A stone rested in the center, flecks of lavender and blue floating in the sparkly gem. When she turned it in the sunlight, more colors appeared and changed, morphing into something spectacular in every sense of the word.

"Kakashi-sensei, it's gorgeous. Are you going to give this to Y/N?"

"After all this time, it seems inevitable really. Time flies."

"Oh my gosh. I'm so happy for you. She's going to be ecstatic, I just know it. She loves you more than life itself." He liked hearing that reaffirmed for him, even though Y/N frequently told him how she felt, daily ‘I love you’s. Unlike him, those words were not rare, but each time it filled his chest with warmth.

He smiled fondly, watching as she continued to turn to ring in her hands. He never thought this would happen to him: marrying someone. He didn't want to lose anyone else. He didn't want to put that risk on someone, especially Y/N. He had suppressed his feelings for her for a few years before he finally succumbed to the urge to tell her. Finally, after years of longing and avoiding the obvious, she became his, and he was undoubtedly hers.

It was a hard decision. He knew it was wrong to risk it, put her life on the line, but now he felt ridiculous sulking around waiting for something that was never going to happen. Nothing had happened to Y/N yet, and it had been years. She was gonna be fine. He was only being paranoid, he had convinced himself.

"Tonight. I'm going to help her close the store and do it then."

"You're a good man, Kakashi. She’s so lucky to have you protecting her and watching out for her, ya know? You two balance each other out perfectly,” the girl sighed. If only she could find a love like her sensei had with his significant other.

"Thanks, Sakura.”

They finished up their conversation, and he paid the bill for her, feeling so high that a bit of money from his wallet didn't even bother him. It was slightly later than he was supposed to go see her. The bookstore should have already closed by about 10 minutes.

All he could think about on the way there was how she would laugh about him being late, as usual. She would hug him to say hello, like she usually wound, and then give him a kiss on his masked cheek. He would help her quickly reorganize books before pulling out the ring. To him, it wasn't really about her saying yes at all so much as this moment, proposing to the love of his life, meant he could leave his curse behind and be happy for once with someone he cared about. She was his savior, an escape from a mindset so ingrained he couldn't fight it on his own.

But when he walked up to the front of the store. He noticed the lights still on even though she would have shut them off by now. The sign out front still flipped to open. He didn’t think it was too weird at all, he just thought maybe she was waiting for him to come along to finish up.

As he walked in though, he noticed the whole reams of paper strewn across the floor. Piles of books were aggressively thrown from the shelves, scattered around the floor like someone side swept them from the stands. Ink stained the checkout counter where she normally sat, inkwell tipped over the edge and dripped onto the carpet which she took care to keep clean. It was disastrous getting stains out of that carpet, she always said to him.

Most importantly, on some of the papers scattered around, he spotted blood splatter, drips of half dried blood present all the way from her desk to the back door. He felt panic rise up from his stomach all the way to his throat, and his heart raced. It was rare something made him truly terrified, and this was one of those moments.

He searched, god, he scoured that entire building over and over again for the woman. He checked every aisle and under every table. He ran upstairs to her apartment and checked in the few small rooms she had, scared she was cowering in her bathtub or hiding under the bed. He ran to the neighboring stores, asking if they'd heard from her, and received nothing but empty words. He just wanted her to be anywhere that he could find, anywhere but in the arms of someone evil.

His Y/N was gone, and he was hopelessly at the mercy of his curse once again.

______

He wasn't even allowed to go on the search mission for his girlfriend. Instead, Tsunade sent Yamato as well as a few chunin who knew Y/N enough to recognize her but not enough to fail at being objective. Apparently, the copy-nin wasn't in his right mind to go on a mission right now, especially one that was so personal to him. All his missions for the foreseeable future had been cancelled and another jounin was set to replace him. He could only sit back at home, guilt ridden and feeling useless, unable to help, unable to search. He did this to her. He knew that putting his heart into someone else's hands wasn't right, that it would only lead to her suffering but he couldn't listen to his own experience. He didn’t think it could happen to Y/N. he thought he could protect her.

But fate finds a way, it seems.

He trusted Yamato and the others to find her, but it was nothing like going himself. He wanted nothing more than to see the men who stole her away taught a lesson for what they had done. He wanted to cradle her in his arms and kiss her head, and promise something like this would never happen again. At least, that’s what he wanted to do. He didn’t know how he would react in the moment, despite developing quite good self-control over the years. How could he contain himself when the perpetrators caused his beautiful girl to bleed, and no doubt suffer?

Sakura felt the worst for Kakashi, knowing what she knew. She could imagine him heading to propose to his little girlfriend whom he loved more than anything in the entire world, and see only her blood splattered across the room and endless signs of a brutal struggle. Not to mention no one had a clue why they stole her or what was happening where no one else could see. The medical nin nearly shed a couple tears when Kakashi rushed into the Hokage's office without announcement, proclaiming that his girlfriend was gone, kidnapped from her own store where she worked alone all day.

Tsunade, despite barely knowing the girl, knew it was important; for anyone to be stolen from their village was serious enough. Although she felt for Kakashi, she had to keep him calm while she worked on finding the subject of his affection. She sent out teams immediately, and stressed that Kakashi was to remain in the village until everything was resolved one way or another. She didn't want any accidents because of a reckless, emotionally compromised shinobi faltering.

It only took the teams a single day to find their target.

Shikamaru and Choji were the ones to come back first, and in the larger boy's arms rested the limp, unconscious body of a missing woman. Ever so gently, he had her head tucked away against his chest the entire way home, trying his best not to hurt her anymore. Even if she was unconscious, he wanted to respect the body. From the moments they spoke before, she seemed like the nicest girl. He felt awful. She wasn’t the one putting her life on the line, she was the one that shinobi were supposed to protect. And they failed her.

When they walked through the gates of the village, Kakashi was already rushing up to the gates waiting for their arrival. He caught up to the boys and reached out to take her body from his arms, just to cradle her against him. It was the least that he could do was take her to the infirmary. To feel her faint heart beating against his chest. He was surprised when one of the chunin sadly shook his head.

"Kakashi, she's alive, but trust me, you don't want to see what they did to her," Shikamaru warned, and Choji flinched, just thinking about what her poor face looked like when they found her. Shikamaru knew for a fact that if his girlfriend was ever handed off to him looking so pitiful, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He didn’t want the same to befall on his sensei. "Just trust me, I cannot let you see it, for your sake. Let Choji bring her to Tsunade."

He felt a burning in his stomach, pain creeping up in his abdomen like he was going to throw up all over the dirt path they stood on, but he did his best to remain calm despite the mix of emotions running through his head. He watched as the Akimichi carried her quickly off to the hospital. Kakashi didn't miss though, the blood stains on his tunic surrounding the area where her head was resting, circling her face. She had bled a lot in her time away, he realized.

God, he felt sick. So fucking nauseous.

"What happened?" he breathed heavily, words slipping through.

"Apparently, the guy had a grudge against your clan for something your father did to his family. Killed a criminal brother or some shit. When he heard wind of your girlfriend he knew he would take his revenge. Didn't want ransom, fame, nothing, just to torment you and torture her. Disgusting bastard."

There was one thing he wanted to know on top of his worry about her condition. He’d been thinking about it for the entire day she was missing. Obsessing even.

"What did you do with the man?" He hoped that justice had been served, and he couldn't imagine the two boys doing anything less.

"A man that would do that to a woman doesn't deserve his life," he muttered, his eyes trailed off to the village, “I made it painful.”

Kakashi nodded to him, and together they stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity.

“Sensei?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

____________

When he got to the hospital, Choji was directly quickly to a special unit with particularly fancy machines around the room. Sakura was standing beside her own mentor awaiting the arrival of her friend. The moment she finally saw Y/N's exposed face, she cried. Tears fell from her eyes and she leant over the hospital bed to get a look at all her wounds. She looked alien, and the amount of blood that stained her hairline and cheeks was thick and heavy. Choji had tried to wipe it off, but he just couldn’t get it all.

"Y/N! Oh my God, what did they do to you?" She cried, running her hands shakily over the contusions and the cuts and the bulging areas near her temples. Her body was no better but her face is what hurt Sakura the most. It was hard to believe that all the life had been drained from her body after this one incident.

The light had left her body. Her familiar glow emanating from her soft skin was missing. She looked cold and dead. For the first time, Sakura saw her without her smile, without any bit of optimism. It felt like she was staring at an empty shell of the woman she knew.

"Sakura, get the IV ready. I need to get to work."

And so she did what she does best. Healers at work in their element fixing broken bones, burst capillaries in her head, torn skin. Everything they could. It took hours, and her face still wasn't completely healed in the end, just less swollen. She still had some bumps and bruises but those weren't going to be so bad. They could heal by themselves with a few days of rest and care.

She would be okay, they decided after a while of treatment, and moved her into a normal hospital room, under watch of nurses every so often, no visitors allowed either. Not for the first few days, much to Kakashi's displeasure. He was really getting irritated with the way everyone was keeping him from seeing her. Shouldn’t he be allowed? Essentially, the only family she had left? In reality though, he was scared.

But did he even want to see her again? He loved her, would do anything in the world for her. If only he had the guts to just give up on her and let her meet a normal man from the village, let her marry him and just forget all about their relationship. Then, nothing like this would ever happen again. She would be safer without having connections with him. He was so upset with himself for letting this happen.

He hated himself. It had been a long time since he genuinely thought those words. He hated himself more than anyone else. He let this happen, he was to blame for all this mess. A monster.

He headed back to his apartment that night and stared over at her tiny pile of belongings in the corner, ones she had left over his place as time went on. They still didn't live together so it wouldn't be the worst thing if he broke up with her. She would be hurt, probably cry for a few days, a week, maybe a month. He didn’t know. All he knew was that a little bit of crying was a lot better than getting fatally injured.

Just return her belongings in a box, and never go back to that fucking bookshop where he fell in love with her. He could get his novels directly from Jiraiya if he wanted them.

Tsunade already told him it would be days before he would be allowed to see her again, something about the healing process and that her chakra wasn't enough to fix everything. Based on what Shikamaru had told him, the way he acted- it must have been pretty bad. He couldn't even imagine her face beaten and broken.

All he knew was that in 2 days, he would be allowed to see her again, to possibly talk to her and apologize for what he had caused. It was the least he could do. At this point he couldn't imagine giving her that ring. How could she accept when he was the reason she was abducted and tortured?

He barely slept that night, but it didn't matter. He didn't have anything to do. He was given time off work until everything was resolved. He wondered if it would have been better to have a mission and forget all about the situation for even a couple fleeting moments.

He was just so tired of these feelings. He felt suffocated, and unlike himself. He was finding it hard to be cool, calm, and collected like usual. He just felt terrible. Too terrible to eat, too terrible to sleep, too terrible to do anything but stare up at the ceiling and wonder what could have been.

______

It was time to head to the hospital and see her. Yamato had come to his apartment so they could go and see Y/N. Tsunade gave him the green light first thing that morning when he reported to her. The wood style ninja wanted to see her as well, just to say he was happy she was recovering and even tell her that next time she needed help, if Kakashi wasn't around, to run to his apartment. He would always open his arms to help. So many shinobi of the village, after this incident, would be willing to drop everything and help. Her bookstore would probably always have eyes on it from now on.

Word travelled fast between the shinobi and soon enough almost everyone was giving Kakashi sympathetic looks, patting him on the back and apologizing to him for something they knew nothing about. He just wanted to get to her and say sorry for everything he had done. For not being there sooner, for his father and his clan causing this whole thing. He just needed to see her face. He couldn't get her out of his head.

Sakura was standing outside the room when he arrived. She was biting on her nails, which was oddly uncharacteristic of her. She rarely got nervous enough for habits like that to arise. She was normally so confident. That was the first of the red flags.

"Kakashi-sensei, Yamato. You're here to see Y/N, aren't you?" she asked, her voice quiet and hesitant.

She let him Yamato walk past her into the room but she raised her hand before Kakashi could walk in. She gave him one of the most sorry, pitiful looks he had ever seen, and her lip was quivering just a bit. It was barely noticeable but Kakashi was talented at noting the smallest things.

"Kakashi, I'm really sorry about everything. Lady Tsunade did everything she could. When you go in there, just please don't get upset. It's not as bad as you think. I'll explain everything later, but I want to see how she reacts to seeing you first," she bit out, her words mending together awkwardly.

He figured she was just nervous about her condition or maybe she was still bruised and bandaged up. If she was in a full body cast, he wouldn’t care. As long as he could see her. He couldn’t understand why Sakura was so worried. She would still be beautiful to him. She could never lose that shine that she carried regardless of her external features.

"Hmm. I'm sure it will be fine."

"I'm serious. Don't get upset and alarm her, it's very important you be careful."

"Gotcha."

She watched as he walked past her into the white room, sunlight leaking onto her bedside. The woman was fond of staring out the window since she woke, comforted by the familiarity of the village and the birds that flew by. That was the one thing she needed. Comfort.

Yamato sat at her bedside, and she seemed to be talking to him quietly. Her brows were furrowed deeply and she seemed strained, thoughts running through her brain.

"Kakashi-" the man began to say, desperate to say anything to his friend before the inevitable, but was interrupted.

"Y/N, I was so worried about you," he said, words tumbling out before he could even think. He just had so much to say. He continued, "I need to apologize for what happened. I know I should have been at the shop earlier to help you close, I just got caught up in something. It was my family's fault for your kidnapping. I cannot believe I dropped my guard and let this happen to you, baby-"

She looked at him, but without an ounce of the fondness he was so used to. Instead, his girlfriend just looked confused.

"I… I'm sorry but, Sir, do I know you?"

No.

Not this.

He pleaded in his head that this was not happening. That somehow he had misheard.

"It's me, Kakashi,” he replied softly, almost pleading for her to say something else.

She smiled sympathetically, peering up at him with a little glimmer of that kindness he knew in her eyes. He could tell she was confused, and he began to feel his heart break. "Uh, I'm so sorry but I don't remember you. We're we friends or something?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say something like that,” he muttered, his eyes turned to stare at the white tiles beneath his feet.He couldn’t look at her anymore.

"Yamato, you're friends with Kakashi-san, too?" She asked the brunette at her bedside, sitting in a chair wiping his sweaty palms on the thighs of his pants. He felt himself becoming nervous, especially when he felt Kakashi watching him. Why did she have to ask him that question? Why did she have to address him by his name so casually? He could feel Kakashi begin to bubble up emotions he hadn’t felt from him before.

"Yes. We are all very close friends, Y/N. You were closest with Kakashi actually."

"Then how come I can’t remember any of you?"

"I don't know." He felt fear creeping up his neck, Kakashi overwhelming his senses. The grey haired man just stood there, his eye flickering between the love of his life and his friend who apparently her brain thought was more important than him. Did he not look friendly enough to talk to? Was Yamato more inviting than he was, was that why she stopped talking to him? “I really wish I could help you there,” he mumbled.

She turned back to Kakashi and smiled, but it wasn't the one he knew from her. It was different. He hated it. He didn't even want to look at her anymore.

"I hope I remember you soon, or I'll just have to get to know you again, Kakashi-san," she chirped, reaching out to touch his hand which rested on the edge of her bed. The reaction he had was immediate and almost startling. The second her hand touched his, her warmth pressed to his cold fingers, he yanked his hand away and shoved it into his pocket.

He didn't want her to touch him. He didn't want anything other than to leave. Fuck getting to know him again. That wasn't an option.

"I need to go. I've got a mission I need to prepare for."

"Okay! Goodluck out there," she called to him as he turned on his heel to leave. He grit his teeth, feeling another wave of emotion overtake him. As he stepped outside the door, Sakura was still waiting there for him, her arms crossed over her chest sheepishly.

"Will she ever remember me again?" He asked simply.

"I don't know. She's got retrograde amnesia which can sometimes be permanent depending on the damage done to the brain. We couldn't fix it, no matter how much we tried. She doesn't remember me either. She doesn't remember Gai or Naruto or even Tsunade. She only remembers the village and a few bits and pieces that she can associate with it. Of course she remembers her name and her bookstore, but specific people and memories are essentially gone for now."

"So she's lost to us?"

"She can still get her memories back, but it will take time," she explained. "Sensei, I'm so sorry. None of us wished anything like this on you. I told Tsunade about the ring you were going to give her and the proposal, and we mourned for you. I'm so sorry." She felt so bad, and they did cry for him. They cried for the girl who got to keep her life but lost her soul.

"I have to get back to my apartment and clean up a few things," he dismissed, turning his head away from his student as well. He felt his heart clench in his chest as he walked away. The ring still sat deep in his pants pocket and he wanted nothing more than to throw it in the river.

He wished he was the one who forgot everything. Maybe this pain in his heart would subside. Maybe all the guilt would be washed away once and for all.

Part Two and Three are out.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #naruto x reader #kakashi oneshot #kakashi fanfic #naruto one shot #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi imagine #naruto imagine #fluff #angst #the reader is a vert sweet and feminine girl and i hope that doesnt offend anyone

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sp00ky-arts · 4 years ago

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You Take My Breath Away

I can’t believe I’m doing this *hides face* Okay so I wrote this some time ago but never got to posting it because I thought it was trash (though I draw mostly anyway.) I was having Bo feels and needed to let them out so I wrote this for the heck of it. So enjoy this crappy smut story.

Synopsis: Basically you patch up Bo after a victim gets difficult and things get heated

(Sorry if Bo is a little out of character I changed him a bit)

You were making your way up to the gas station to see what Bo was up to. You tended to stay away from their work, as they didn’t want you getting mixed up in the mess, but it was okay because you preferred it that way. A few months back you were actually a victim yourself. However, miraculously things changed and were spared, you became part of this little family. They very rarely used you as a distraction like I said before but sometimes it came in handy having a girl around. The guys seemed to warm up to you pretty quickly. Lester warmed up to you instantly when he first spoke to you the first time, Vincent took a liking to you as well, him being a brother figure to you. Bo was a little bit harder at first but eventually he came around, sharing a bond quickly. But truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on the bastard mechanic man. It was insane to have a crush on someone who was about to literally kill you, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about the blue eyed man. So you simply buried those feeling and moved on.

Upon arriving at the gas station you here clattering noises and you froze. ‘Was he dealing with a victim?’ You though to yourself. Maybe you should come back later. But hearing Bo yelp out, your curiosity peeked further. Walking slowly down the basement were the noises became louder. Your heart beating at the possibilities that could be going on right now. Reaching the bottom of the stair your eyes widened at what you saw. Bo was indeed dealing with a victim that got loose. His nose seemed to be bleeding, and judging from the bruises that were forming he’s taken a few blows as well. Part of you should you feel relief that he was getting a taste of his own medicine, but another part you wanted to jump into his defence. After all, you had no one to go home to really. Home life was a struggle to begin with, and on top of that you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you with your now ex-best friend so there was that. Really nothing to go back to. Here, you oddly felt at home, relaxed and at peace. Back home it was just pure and utter chaos. Seeing a lone crow bar strewn on the floor among all the ruckus, you pick it up, a firm grip as you tiptoed behind the man who was currently taunting Bo with a knife. His eyes flicked to you quickly before looking back at the man and feigning a look of defeat.

“Well, l-looks like…. you got me fair n’ s-square, man. You win.” He said in between breaths to make it seem more believable.

“That’s right, motherfucker, you’re gonna rot in hell when I-” You struck the man at the back of his head cutting him off. The sickening crack could be heard before he slumped to the floor knocked out.

“Fuckin’ prick. Help me get him upstairs, Vincent’s on his way.” He stood up, a groan of pain escaped his lips as he stood up from his crouched position. You did as told, dropping the crow bar and grabbing the other side of the man that was still unconscious. You made it upstairs and sure enough Vincent was already there waiting. He tossed him in the back of the truck and with a wave he drove the man back to the house to finish with him. You look back at Bo as you heard him making groaning sounds again.

“You okay?” You ask, frown on your face.

“Yeah, it’s just, the fuckin’ dick can really pack a punch. Shit…” He hisses in pain.

“Let me get the first aid kit.” You say and walk back into the gas station with Bo in tow.

“Where is the first aid kid?” You asked as you couldn’t seem to find it on the upper level.

“Downstairs.” He pointed back downstairs. You drag him by the hand and brought him back downstairs before telling him to sit in the chair.

“it’s okay, darlin, you don’t have to.” Bo spoke up. The nickname made you heat up. You’ve heard it so many times and yet it still caused butterflies to rise in your stomach.

“I know, but I just want to help, besides some of those could get infected.” You gestures to some of the cuts on his face. He chuckled and let you do your thing.

“Always keen on helpin’ out, don’t ya, sweetheart.” He muttered mostly to himself. You bring over the first aid kit and trying to get to his height as best you can. Trying not to cringe at the bruise that was blooming on his cheek as well as cuts.

“Now, you gotta ice the bruises because those look nasty, but I can put a little Polysporin on the cuts.” (I googled it, you can put polysporin on cuts, scrapes, and burns.) You took a bit of the cream on your finger and gently dabbed it on his open cuts. Bo was so focused on you as you tended to his wounds, your face burning as he was watching your every move. You tried ignoring it and focused on your task at hand but it was getting difficult, you could feel his minty breath on you, lips practically beckoning you for a kiss. You should stop before you start creating scenarios in your head.

“Okay and done. It’s not the best but it’s what I can do for now, hopefully it helps, just gotta ice those bruises…actually I think we-” You started to say but Bo pulled you back into him. You were practically on top of him, you were sure if you moved at the right angle your lips would touch. Your gaze locked at his lips before looking up at his eyes.

“Bo?” You ask, quirking your brow up at him. He stares at your lips and bites his before he meets your eyes. He starts leaning in and your heart starts thumping in your chest. ‘Holy shit, is this about to happen right now?’ you think to yourself. He was so close that if you nudged forward in the slightest you’d be kissing.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He muttered lowly. Before you had time to comprehend what he said, he quickly shut his eyes and placed his lips atop yours. You were practically stone in your position as Bo proceeded to kiss you. Crap, it was happening. Your eyes slowly closed and gently kissed back, the taste of copper stimulated your senses. Hands placed on his shoulders gently, as you didn’t really know where else to put them, kissing him with a lot more passion and vigor. He licked your bottom lip asking for entrance. Your eyes widened at and pulled away, gasping for breath.

“What happened?” Bo asked, searching your face.

“D-Do you think, we’re moving too fast?” You asking biting your lip.

“You wanna stop?” He asked back. He got you there. It honestly felt good but you weren’t sure if this was moving too quickly, still you shook your head no. He smirked at that.

“Then where were we?”

“I think we were here.” You reply with a smirk of your own. Crawling up until you straddled his lap and re-connecting your mouths once again. It soon became a dance of tongues and hands exploring as you melted into each other. Before you knew you were both stripped out of your clothes aside from your bra and panties and his boxer briefs.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Bo mumbled against your neck, pepper soft kisses on the supple skin. You leaned back to give him more access.

“Nnghhh..B-Bo…” You moan out. His hands traveled down your back, stopping at the clasp to your bra where he quickly undid it with no problem. He tossed the material across the room and looked at your now revealing chest. He trailed down to where he was facing your chest, sucking a taut nipple into his mouth. He lashed his tongue over the nub as you gripped onto his hair.

“Jesus, Bo, s-slow down…” You moan. You didn’t expect that this would happen, but man was this better than your imagination.

“Sorry, Doll, just can’t control myself.” He says switching to the other. As much as you like this foreplay that was going on, you just wanted him inside of you already.

“B-Bo, can you..ahhhh,, c-can you please put it in.” You bite your lip.

“Can’t wait can you? That’s alright neither can I, wanted to tear into you for quite some time now, babygirl.” Bo rasps. He takes off his undergarments along with your, leaving you both completely naked.

“I wanna ride you.” You say, cheeks heated.

“Go ahead, Darlin’, it’s all yours.” You bite your lip as you align yourself with his member.

“Can’t wait to tear into this cunt.” He utters to himself. You sink onto him as he held himself for you. You both groan at the feeling, you for feeling full, and him because the tightness and warmth your cunt is doing to him.

“Holy shit, Bo…” You toss your head back as you begin slow movements, up and down slowly. However, this just wouldn’t do, you needed more. You speed up your movements and set a good pace.

“Shit…now ya sure you’ve never done this, Darlin’? He asked. You slap his chest and playfully roll your eyes at his comment.

“Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding..fuck.”

“Ohh sorry, did I hurt you?” You say in worry.

“Nah, I’m fine.” You continue your ministrations. You couldn’t believe you were already feeling like you were gonna finish.

“B-Bo, I-I think I’m gonna….” You moan out. Bo’s hand darts to your clit and starts rubbing quick circles on it as as he fucks in to you harder, you felt your walls start to flutter

“That’s it, do it.” He instructs. You came with a moan and a shout of his name and that was enough to send Bo over the edge to his release.

“Shit, baby…” He groans and clenches his eyes shut. You slump against him out of breath as he holds your still shaking body against his.

“Bo?” You look up at him, eyes searching into his blue hues.

“Mmm?” He hums while stroking your hair and staring back at you.

“You know I care about you.” You say.

“I know ya do, darlin’ He replies tucking hair behind your ear and kissing you softly.

If for some reason you want to see more let me know.

#slasher x reader #slashers #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #slasher #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair smut

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yamayuandadu · 3 years ago

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Wikipedia troubles, or “Father Enlil, (...) don't let your precious metal be alloyed there with the dirt of the underworld“

clarification regarding my post about troubles with a certain site i’ve been contributing to a lot for the past few months. To preface this with a mythical metaphor: in Inanna’s Descent, when Ninshubur pleads with the other gods to save Inanna, she uses the formula “don't let anyone kill your daughter in the underworld. Don't let your precious metal be alloyed there with the dirt of the underworld. Don't let your precious lapis lazuli be split there with the mason's stone. Don't let your boxwood be chopped up there with the carpenter's wood.” Currently this is what is happening to the Inanna article, I am afraid.

So, long story short, as most of you probably have noticed I am contributing relatively often to wikipedia as of late, starting with the creation of a Matara-jin article a few months ago. Among other things I wrote, rewrote or at least significantly improved the following:

articles about Mesopotamian medicine goddesses:

Ninkarrak from the western frontier, Nintinugga, who was associated with funerary offerings, Ninisina, who took over Inanna's gimmick in Isin, Bau, who became a healing goddess by chance, Gula, who eclipsed her peers - as expected from someone named “the great” articles about Inanna's courtiers and associated goddesses:

Ninshubur, her sidekick (my best work overall imo, the one article I wrote which I think fully deserves the “good” badge but I am not vain enough to apply myself), Ninegal, a goddess turned into her title, Nanaya, just the horny part distilled (bought a book just for this one!), Irnina, inexplicably cthtonic personified victory

articles about Mesopotamian gods too insignificant for anyone else to care about them:

Tishpak, a god so foreign nobody knows where he came from, Sebitti, seven warlike brothers, Enmesharra, Enlil's evil uncle, Urash, not the earth goddess – there are two... Urashes, Ningishzida, Dumuzi but with a snake gimmick, Zababa, a war god who's NOT Nergal, Ninimma, Enlil's court scribe, Gatumdag, popular as ersatz mom among kings of Lagash, Manzat, the rainbow

articles about Mesopotamian goddesses whose main trait was being someone's wife: Marduk's wife Sarpanit, Adad's wife Shala, Shamash's wife Aya

articles about Hurrian gods: Alalu, primordial vanquished king of gods, Kumarbi, his son, divine Saturday morning cartoon villain, Ninatta and Kulitta, a pair of divine musicians who always appeared together, Allani, oddly joyful queen of the dead, Šauška, who was so firmly genderfluid there's two of them in the most famous image of the Hurrian pantheon, Lelluri, a mountain goddess, Kubaba, who isn't Cybele, Goddess of the Night, who has no proper name despite being a case study in important religious rituals, Belet Nagar, who was like Ashur before Ashur got popular, Nupatik, who was important but we don't know why

articles about Eblaite gods: Ishara, “independent lady of love associated with scorpion and cannabis” popular everywhere where she went, Aštabi, a war god who really wanted to be like the weather god, Hadabal, who used to be famous but vanished out of blue, Kura, whose mask had to be renewed each year, Adamma, who left her husband to hang out with Kubaba

articles about Elamite gods: Pinikir, sort of like a bootleg Ishtar and an international sensation, Jabru, who exists only in Mesopotamian texts about Elam, Humban, mandate of heaven personified, Ruhurater, oddly obscure creator of mankind, Inshushinak, the underworld judge and his Akkadian helpers Lagamar and Ishmekarab, and Simut, the “strange star”

articles which were borderline unusable before due to low quality of sources:

Astarte, who was much more than vintage Bible scholars might lead you to believe (but not a fertility goddess), Dagan, who wasn't a fishman, Qetesh whose existence proves that Egyptians were fond of making ocs for their favorite foreign franchises

assorted articles about general topics pertaining to Mesopotamia:

Sukkal, Hurrian religion (ongoing project), List of Elamite gods; also a much needed overhaul of List of Mesopotamian deities (ongoing project)

and, last but not least, a solid chunk of the Inanna article.

Two guiding principles of these ventures were the following:

people who cannot access academic resources or don't know how to use them and as a result rely on wikipedia aren't any less deserving of receiving up to date, credible information

Wikipedia's mode of operation isn't flawed in itself and the only problem is lack of will to edit it

I think I did a pretty good job at these two things, honestly. I made sure to rely on rigorous, credible, and, if possible, easy to understand sources, and removed the horrors which sometimes were hidden in bibliographies: a book written by a hate preacher who believed Bush didn't start enough wars; 1930s race science; what I can only describe as a hybrid of Woman's Encyclopedia and a bdsm manual; a fringe book asserting that Minoan palaces were graveyards and that Egyptians only learned mummification from superior Minoans; etc. Of course, it’s a thankless job, but as long as I could make the site more credible undisturbed, that’s fine by me. I even got some help in a few cases, most notably that of the god list, indicating that the work was on some level appreciated. The only problem I've encountered prior to today came from editing the Ereshkigal article – I've removed the claim the Burney relief depicts “Lilith”; this edit was however undone. I left a message on the editor's page, complete with links to articles about the Burney relief AND about the possible Mesopotamian forerunners of Lilith (who are undeniably not depicted on the Burney relief). They're responded rather dismissively to it, and asserted that even if unproven, a connection existed, so I pretty quickly gave up, as they relied on sources which were outdated or fringe. I focused on fixing two long, important articles instead: the god list, and the Inanna article. Some parts of it were alright, but there was much work needed: fringe theories trying to assign greater antiquity to relatively late myths, and frankly insane hyperdiffusionism, had a prominent place in the article, while well attested association between Inanna and similar deities from cultures closely associated with Mesopotamia wasn't, much of the info was outdated, scandalous hot takes about Dumuzi's treatment were all over the place, the section on Inanna's descent favored Jungian confabulations over credible research, etc. My progress on fixing that had been slow and steady. However, today the aforementioned person intervened when, in between editing the Inanna article and the god list, I reverted a dumb, brief , unsourced edit – made by a third party - which asserted that Inanna's descent is “similar to Persephone” which it isn't – if anything is similar to Persephone in Mesopotamian mythology it's Nergal and Ereshkigal. They pretty clearly didn't take it well: not only the unfounded speculation went back up, but they also added a “source” affirming it, from a controversial -medical- author, not an Assyriologist. They also added Persephone to the list of Inanna equivalents in the infobox, removing any credibility whatsoever from it. The author of the claim this is all about relied on sources so antiquated that they interpreted Inanna's sexual character as her being a child-snatching boogeyman. Inanna's primary connection to boogeymen is that she was invoked, alongside Nanaya whose sexual connection is even more blatant, to -ward off- child-snatching boogeyman Lamashtu (whose character was not sexual, because sumerians and akkadians weren't victorian aristrocrats and weren't paranoically afraid of sex - and why would a demon representing death in infancy be sexual in nature, anyway?). Simply put, the book in mention is worthless as a source. Of course, I reverted that; when it went back up (despite a justification being included in my reversal) I edited the Inanna article to remove this outlandish claim (you have a limited number of possible reversions per day for some arcane reason), also adding other information about Inanna I had prepared: a few tidbits on Assyrian royal inscriptions which involved the warlike and erotic aspects at once, suggesting that transgressors should lose both potency and bravery in battle, some info on love poetry about her and Dumuzi, that sort of stuff. The weird person reverted my edit – removing valuable info – and reinstated the claim. For a moment I lost my cool and reverted this edit, which sadly put me in the reversion overuse danger zone, but which was a necessary sacrifice to save the credibility of article I put weeks of work into. See the edit history here. As you can guess HaniwaEnthusiast is me. I left messages critical of this decision on the talk page of the article and on the talk page of the outlandish editor. Sadly, they responded rather rudely, and basically declared Wikipedia isn't meant to be credible, and that favoring academic sources over random crap is an “ivory tower” approach and should be discouraged; they also insulted me but that's much less relevant and much less hurtful than their desire to spread lies. If you ask me it's more of an ivory tower attitude to say people who cannot access or don't know how to use academic sources do not deserve equally credible info and need to be at the mercy of weird wikipedia editors. What's the main problem here, though? That person is a mod. Not a random user. They have 16 years of Wikipedia experience. They spread fringe, pop-spiritual claims about Lilith and the like, so I assume they have an ulterior religious agenda of some sort, which they seem to actively encourage judging from these ventures. I'm not sure if the Inanna article is a lost cause yet but I do think the weird addition of Persephone they made is a step into some hellish direction, and I am entirely certain I cannot win this conflict. Simply put, I think that if this is the sort of staff the site has, this is a lost cause. I am not sure if I will go back to editing.

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pizzazz-party · 4 years ago

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THEORY TIME!

Fresh from imprisonment, Dragaux complains that he’s now “ totally out of shape.” Of course he’s kind of a drama queen. But how long was he trapped inside Ring, really?

Dragaux implies that Ring didn’t keep him frozen in suspended animation, but it’s not like he could have been in there for that long, right? Because otherwise he would have been bitching about losing years of his life to captivity, right?

Except? I don’t think it was for a short while. And evidently: Dragaux isn’t human. As per popular eastern mythology, dragons tend to have incredibly long natural lifespans. They are commonly symbols of longevity. So it’s not that wild to think Dragaux could have been held in there for a really long time. Especially because we don’t know jack shit in-game about his species.

sorry i couldn’t resist.

Ahem.

At any rate, Dragaux himself isn’t giving up any more hints. So for more clues, we must look to Ring.

Ring, our little support buddy, light of my life, more encouraging than my own judgmental father, has been out of commission for just as long as Dragaux. (And was straight up comatose during it too.) Just keeping Drags sealed away took everything Ring had—his energy, his voice, his face—up until Dragaux essentially freed them both.

But pre-imprisonment, Ring was clearly a major player in the world. Everywhere you go, his visage is all over the place from treasure chests to still-well-maintained gyms to forest paths to temples spanning over 20 different worlds in-game. His influence is everywhere.

His image is in places he’s never before set foot in, even.

You play this game, and you get the impression that not a lot has changed in the world since Ring’s little vacancy from reality. What Ring does know of the places you’re traveling to, tends to be accurate. He never fusses about technology being so advanced these days, golly, like a true Man Out of Time either. He certainly doesn’t act like he’s been horribly displaced in time. (Though he does comment he’s never seen a treasure chest that can run before.)

And then you remember how his face is actually everywhere. And that the public frequently (canonically) uses these outdoor spaces for their own training and travel. And finally you get to the sinking realization that not one human being has recognized Ring this whole time.

(Hell, people probably think he’s mimicking the courses, and not the other way around.)

(Side note: No one recognizes Dragaux from his—frankly—insane statues either, but I focus on Ring here because Drags’ stadiums are always built far from town, in out-of-the-way places. They’re not very accessible to the average jogger, and were probably never meant to be. It sort of doesn’t matter how detailed his stone pecs are, if no one’s around to see them.)

When I first wrote up this theory (almost a month ago yikes), I felt pretty frustrated. The game doesn’t want you to think too hard about stuff like this, because the world building isn’t the point. The actual exercise is. (And to a lesser extent, the lovable cast of characters.) The game doesn’t want to give you a set timeline, so it pointedly doesn’t. (Unless it does? I’m currently on World 19.)

At the time it took me a couple days to realize that, while I’m probably boo-boo the fool for wishing for specifics, the game actually does give us a fossil to carbon-date this part of the timeline.

Behold!

That’s right. Granny to the rescue.

Master Guru Andma is seemingly the oldest human being alive in the game. The four masters are supposed to be paradigms of health, because they all take very good care of themselves! But she’s lost most of her teeth to age anyway. It could be a stylistic choice, but to me it reads like an indicator that she’s seriously old. I’d put her age anywhere between 70 to 100 years old.

(It’s a video game. She can be a hundred and still lose to me in manage fitness battles. It’s fine.)

So let me repeat that. Guru Andma, the eldest human being alive in Ring Fit Adventure, is at least 70+ years old. Maybe she’s just playing coy, maybe her eyesight is genuinely that bad... but she also doesn’t seem to recognize Ring or Dragaux. And she’s not just some random old lady! She’s one of the famous Four Masters, a pillar in her international communities! She’s literally got Ring’s donut motif styled into her hair and hanging around her neck, and she still doesn’t know who he is.

So, at the very least, Ring and Dragaux have been gone for nearly a century.

———

Way back in The Before, I’m sure the people Ring left behind tried to keep his memory alive by telling stories. But give it enough time, and eventually even stories can die out.

TLDR; Ring had Dragaux trapped for at least 70+ years. And I’m not sure if Ring is even aware it’s been that long.

—

(Disclaimer: I’m still going through the final stretches of the main game myself. This is just for fun. I’ll edit this if, when, and where applicable in the future.)

#I’m on world 19 but concrete spoilers only up to about world 7 here under the cut #...unless you count the outfits in these screenshots heheh #ring fit adventure #dragaux #ring #pizzazz meta #pizzazz post #this has been complete for a while. just needed some polishing!

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vanillann · 4 years ago

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just the medicine (draco malfoy x reader)

another writing challenge, this time for the lovely @kashishwrites !!

warning: angst (you all seem to like my angst) and swearing, MENTIONS OF PTSD AND MEDITATION!!!!!

word count: 1.8k

“So you’re doing this?”

I let my hands fall to my side, even if they were sore from all the fighting that had already taken place within the first few hours.

“Not now,” Draco rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder, scared like the little boy he was acting like.

“You’re choosing them over everything that could save you.”

Was I yelling?

The look on his face told me I was but I could barely hear my own voice, everything slowly draining from my body as seconds passed by. I guess that’s what the authors always say, how draining a war can be on everyone good or bad.

“I can’t be saved,” his voice had no emotions, but I couldn’t seem to have sympathy anymore. People were dead, people we loved and took care of and now he’s still picking them. Those people that think there's that much different than the rest of us.

“Maybe because you aren’t letting yourself be saved.”

I heard the yelling that time, I was definitely yelling now.

“Hush, someone might hear you,” Draoc held his finger close to my skin, close enough for the cold nature of it to radiant to my own.

“Why would that matter?”

Why do I have to ask the questions I know are going to break me?

“Because I can’t be seen with you, you know this.”

I knew this, I refuse to “know” this life anymore.

“Then don’t come near me,” my words were pure venom, like that apple from that fairytale my mother used to read me.

“What?”

“If you don’t wanna be seen with me don’t give us the chance to be seen right,” I held my arms out, shrugging my shoulders. I ignored the pain in my shoulder from that stupid curse, I’d make it hopefully.

“I don’t-”

“Frankly this isn’t about you anymore Malfoy. This is about me and my own happiness,” I looked him in the dead eyes of a boy I once knew, a boy I once called my sanity in an insane world.

Now he was the boy that was insane just like the rest, he was even worse than them.

“So you’re going to act like this didn’t happen?”

“Yep, the same way you acted like it wasn’t happening at all.”

I slowly backed up, letting my hurt shoulder hit the wall behind me. I gritted my teeth out of pain, looking back at Draco one last time.

“I hope you get the taste of your own medicine someday, Malfoy.”

I let my head fall to my desk, annoyed with the column I had spent the past hour writing. How do you write about Quidditch when you’ve never been to a single match? I should have listened to Ginny all those years ago, or at least her fiancé.

Two knocks echoed in my office, a slight release flooded me.

“Come in Luna!”

Luna blonde hair was seen in the doorway, a nice dreamy smile on her face as she kept her composure so well. You didn’t know how she ran this paper so well but you thought better not to ask.

“Someone is here to see you.”

I knew my fist in the air, happy Oliver finally answered my letters and actually came down to help me while Ginny was away for Charlie.

“Let him in please,” Luna gave me a shrugged, her eyes extra wide as she closed the door and left my office. I smiled, pushing my rough draft to the side and pulling out a clean parchment and a quill for notes.

Merlin knows I needed it.

I heard my door knob twist, my feet flying to rest on my desk as I waited for Oliver's pissed face to walk through the doors of my office.

But of course you never should expect things to go your way.

Draco Malfoy stood in my doorway, a few years older than when I left him but still pretty young. We were both 24 now, much older and wiser than the kids we once were I suppose.

He looked the same, yet different all at once. Maybe it was my broken heart making things up, the wound still awful fresh for something that happened years ago.

“(L/N),” his voice was weak, something definitely new for both of us.

“Malfoy.”

I kept my chin up, the “Harry Potter” pride was slowly starting to rub off on me.

Draco dugged in his coat pocket, pulling out a balled up piece of parchment. He slowly unfolded it and held it up for me to see.

Wizardry Can’t Protect You From Your Own Brain

The article I wrote months ago looked to be folded over and over, little water marks along the paper.

“I thought you were a Daily Prophet type guy,” I trailed off, watching him take the seat directly next to my door.

“I was but I thought I should try associating with my extended family, I didn’t know you worked here till I found this article.”

I knew the article, it was the article that got me multiple letters telling me I helped so many that survive the war find peace within themselves. I felt bad for being jealous, for all that was still a deep fresh wound to my broken soul.

“I read it, made me seek help.”

He chuckled as he spoke, a light hearted chuckle like what he was saying wasn’t serious. I watched him as I waited for more information, watching his hair closely.

It was slightly pale blond, but had a weird tint to it; one I simply couldn’t place my finger on. Maybe it was the lighting-

“I dyed it.”

I looked back to his eyes, much more untroubled than the day of the war.

“What?”

“I dyed my hair a few months ago, took forever to get the bloody color out,” he refused to look me in the eye as he spoke.

“Why’d you do it if you hated it so much?”

“Though it erased everything, maybe I wouldn’t be a Malfoy anymore.”

I felt my heart splinter, his broken frame was something I hadn’t thought I’d see again but he was sitting in my office ranting like nothing changed.

But that was the thing, everything had changed.

“You may always be a Malfoy,” I knew my words seemed harsh, but I didn’t know how to handle this. I was overwhelmed to say the least.

The one person I can’t function without is sitting here in front of me and I can’t help him because I can’t even help myself.

“I know, I had my opportunity and lost it.”

I bite my lip, waiting for him to speak first. I didn’t have anything to say at the moment, there wasn’t anything to be said at all in my opinion.

“Uhm- that’s not why I came here to tell you,” he straight out said, reading over the column again.

“I got help because of this. I have that thing, what do muggles call it?”

He snapped his finger, looking up to the ceiling for a few seconds when he clapped his hands and finally looked at me.

“PTSD, I got that.”

I couldn’t tell if he truly knew what that meant or not, but I thought best not to say anything.

“So I came to tell you, I did.”

“You did get help?”

“No, I got a taste of my own medicine. Literally and figuratively.”

He smiled to himself, laughing like it was a joke as she pushed around in his pocket, pulling an orange bottle from his pocket. Pills floated around in the bottom, my words caught in my throat.

“I got them from this muggle lady, real sweet that one.”

He shoved them back in his pocket, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared me down.

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

“No, you were right,” Draco cut me off again, but I wasn’t mad. He had been the one to come to me anyways.

I let my hands lay on the empty parchment, not knowing what to do with them.

“No one should ever have to take pills to feel something normal,” I spoke gently, scared to break something.

Whenever it was me or him I couldn’t tell you.

“Yeah, I mean you're right; but some of us don’t get that luxury,” he said so gravely you would think someone had died.

But I guess someone did, the old us died that day on March 2nd. So many people died that day, literally and figuratively as Draco would put it.

“I’m sorry if I made it worse somehow.”

I felt so small, I felt crushed and broken, but this wasn’t my time to vent, it was his.

“A year ago I would have blamed you, but now I see you are the reason I’m trying to save myself. You alway said I never would let myself be saved so I made a compromise with myself, I’d save me.”

I felt a single tear stream down my cheek, one that was quickly wiped before anyone could spot it.

“I’m glad, you deserve that much,” I felt stone-cold. How do I talk to him now?

He was mature, but he looked like that broken boy still in my head.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m getting help I need because of you,” he leaned up slightly, trying to make eye contact as I stared at my desk.

“Yeah, but if I had done more maybe you wouldn’t be on medication-”

“It’s just medicine, if it helps it helps right?”

He shouldn’t be the one comforting me, he was the one who came to me.

“I suppose that’s true, I just wish this didn’t happen to us.”

“The only thing that happened to us was war, it destroys every relationship you hold dear,” I knew he was talking about his mother and father, but deep down I wanted him to be talking about me.

“Can we keep in contact?”

I nodded so fast I thought I pulled a muscle for a second. The sight made him smile, which still magically calmed my nerves.

I couldn’t help it, the thought of walking away again hurt too much.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

I felt guilty still but I tried to push it away, trying to not make it seem like this was about me, because maybe it was years ago but now it was about him.

A hand laid over mine, the cold silver ring I got him in sixth year still fit his middle finger like a glove somehow. I slowly looked up, both our watery eyes meeting like it was the first time we’ve ever seen one another.

“Don’t worry, it’s just medicine.”

It was just medicine, it was just medicine that was saving the only boy I could ever find sanity in.

If it saved him then I’d buy every bottle he needed.

I’d be his medicine if he needed it.

But, I didn’t need to save him because he has finally learned to save himself.

overall harry potter tag list:

@siriusmaraudeers @haphazardhufflepuff @marauder-exe @aangsupremacy

draco malfoy tag list:

@okaydraco @coldlilheart @starcross16

#harry potter x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #malfoy x y/n

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thetomorrowshow · 4 years ago

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Slower Than Words Ch. 22

First - Previous - Next

Hey all! It’s good to be back! The break was much-needed, but I’ve missed interacting with y’all. Have a relatively calm chapter!

cw: food

Weeks passed, and Patton realized that lip-reading was harder than he thought it would be. Patton practiced every single day, studying the diagrams in the book and taking down notes on everything. Remus had at first practiced with him by saying a phrase and having Patton guess, but they had quickly realized that it was too advanced at this stage. Now, Remus held up a notecard with a phrase or word and said it. After going through five different different notecards, Remus would start over again without displaying the notecards. This helped Patton grasp it much quicker, and he had advanced to picking up several words that his therapists spoke in everyday conversation.

Sometimes, when he felt really excited, Patton would mimic the diagrams in the mirror, making the mouth movements for his own name, Remus's name, and Virgil's name. He already knew what his own name looked like, he found—he'd been unknowingly able to recognize it for years.

Patton always had the same translator at his doctor and therapy appointments, so he asked her a few questions about lip-reading and speaking. The woman was able to answer, usually, but there was rarely any time to get into a conversation. The woman did recommend some online resources and teachers for learning to speak, which Patton passed along to Remus. Patton didn't really understand the whole online thing yet. Virgil had tried to explain it several times, but it didn't make a lot of sense. Where did all of the information come from? Who put it there, ready for everyone to use? How was it usable?

Patton had learned how to use the internet in basic terms. He knew how to look for something in specific on Google, and he knew that Youtube was a thing because Remus liked showing him videos from it. Youtube had captions, unlike the television. Patton had found himself watching a lot of comedy videos, sometimes writing down the best jokes from them. He had a cheap blue notebook that he wrote the jokes and his notes in, and he kept it under his bed, like he used to do with his journal back ho—back at the cult.

Patton had researched the cult briefly on the internet, but had quickly become upset at seeing his own face on the cover of one of the articles that popped up. He'd closed it after seeing that several of the scientists, as well as the two prophets, were facing legal charges. That was all he'd needed to know.

Well, not really all. He'd been looking for any mention of Virgil. The one he'd read had mentioned him briefly, if not by name, and was now written in Patton's notebook: Investigations began after the appearance of two young men, both of whom required immediate medical care.

One was Remus. The other had to be Virgil. That meant Virgil was alive somewhere. Patton wondered if Virgil too was reading the articles, seeing that Patton was out, wondering how to find him.

Gosh, Patton missed him.

Right now, Patton was following along with a video on tongue movements for forming different letters. He wasn't sure that he was getting the S quite right, he'd have to ask Remus later. He took a few more notes on how to do it, then folded his notebook closed and took Father's laptop off incognito. Remus had taught him how to turn on and off incognito mode with a little wink, and now Patton used it almost every time he was on the laptop, which was only while Father was at his second job. For some reason, Patton felt that he wouldn't be allowed to do this.

He was just in time out of Father's room for Remus to get home from work, shooting him a fingergun (Virgil used to do those all the time) before throwing himself onto the couch. Patton longed to shake his shoulder, ask him for help practicing, but Remus was always tired right after work. Patton wasn't sure what he did, only that he was trying to find something else that paid better, so sometimes he would be out for hours after he was supposed to be home looking for a new job.

Patton slid into his room, flicking the light switch to turn it off. He rarely sat in his room with the light on, it made him uncomfortable. It almost felt as though someone was watching, though he knew that it was just a response developed from a traumatic situation, as his therapist had told him.

He'd barely been in his room for thirty seconds when Remus wandered in. He gestured to his mouth, and Patton watched carefully as he spoke.

“You - - - - to eat pr - - - - -.”

“One more time?” Patton signed. Remus repeated himself, but Patton still didn't pick it all up, so he asked Remus to sign it.

“You need to eat protein,” Remus signed slowly. “Diet time.”

Patton wasn't particularly hungry, but a part of regaining his body mass and retraining his body to eat normally was eating six or seven small, 'enriching' meals instead of three big ones. Remus was right, Patton realized as he checked the clock—it was time for his protein supplement, a meal usually made up of beef jerky and peanuts. Yay.

The weeks turned into months, and Remus decided that it was time for Patton to get some real world practice. Sure, he'd been going to therapy and all, but those folks rarely talked to him. It was time to play to Logan's weaknesses.

He brought it up over dinner one night, when Patton had already gone to bed. It rubbed him the wrong way that Logan sent him to bed instead of letting him stay up and talk to his pops, who had only been home for ten minutes. Sure, Pat had a schedule or whatever, and he had to follow it to stay healthy, but it should be his own decision. Still, there was nothing Remus could do about it. Except maybe this.

“So, when's your next day off?”

Logan shrugged. “I believe I have the morning of next Wednesday off, but that's all for next week. Why?”

Remus twirled his fork through the cheap macaroni and cheese, pretending to not be too interested in the outcome. “Just thinkin'. Pat's almost out of books again, we should probably make a trip to the library.”

Logan smiled softly at the suggestion—or maybe at Patton's name. There was no telling with the man.

“And his therapist's been saying he needs to go to a new place for enrichment or something like that. Wouldn't—”

Logan's face had already shuttered. “Absolutely out of the question. I cannot—”

“Lo, he really wants to,” Remus pleaded, letting his fork fall to the table. “He's gotta get out of this house. And what better place than a quiet library, where it's easy to watch him and sometimes there's a cop hanging out?”

“Remus, I—I can't,” Logan said, his face still stone, but now his eyes had grown sad. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow Patton to be in an unsafe environment. If I lost him again. . . .”

“You won't,” Remus cajoled. “I'll come too, watch him be safe. Just imagine how much he'll love it! Father-son bonding and all that crap!”

Logan looked down at his plate, clearly thinking deeply. Remus could almost see him weighing the options in his head. Internally, his heart rabbited, but externally Remus was the picture of calm. Hopefully. Maybe. He was probably not, but he could dream.

“I'll consider it,” Logan said eventually. “You are correct in assuming that the library is a place I would very much like to share with him. Tomorrow after tutoring Andy I will stop at the library and inquire after safety precautions. By Monday, I will have my decision.”

Remus leaned back, picking his fork up again. That was as close as he was going to get Logan tonight. If he continued to push it, Logan would completely shut down the conversation and then there'd be no chance of getting Pat out of the apartment.

They'd been watching a stupid black-and-white movie a week or three ago, and one of the characters had said a line that Patton had obviously related to. Remus had looked over to see tears brimming after the old man on screen said, “I thought I was supposed to be getting fresh air. So far, I've been in a train and a room, and a car and a room, and a room and a room.”

That probably really sucked for Patton. Remus went stir-crazy in this tiny apartment, and he was able to leave whenever he wanted. Patton left three times a week, and went straight to his appointments and then straight home. One of his doctors had actually just switched over to doing virtual appointments, so Pat was only leaving twice a week now. Kid had to be going insane.

Patton felt a bit like he was going insane.

He marked a tally in his notebook every day, one for each day that he had been out without Virgil. It sort of was a continuation of his tallies in the cell, but he couldn't remember where he had left off, so he had just started anew.

He had just filled a second page of tally marks. It had been months since he'd escaped, even longer since he'd seen Virgil. Every time Remus tried to tell him that everything was going to be okay, or Father told him that everything was okay, Patton felt anger simmer in his stomach. It was not okay, it couldn't be okay, it would never be okay without Virgil. Even if he had to be trapped in this horrible apartment for years, it would be wonderful with Virgil by his side.

Every day, he followed the same schedule. Therapy exercises, meals at precise times, lip-reading studies, regular reading, bed at ten PM. It was terrible.

He couldn't help but feel excited, though. He was leaving, at least for a little bit! Father had asked him if he wanted to go to the library with him tomorrow, and Patton had thought his heart was going to drop out of his chest. Both Father and Virgil had told him about libraries, and how beautiful they were, and how many books were always there.

Patton was finally going to a new place, and it was the library. All of the anger he'd been feeling over the past weeks had washed away, replaced only with anticipation. Even with Father there, this had to be the best thing to happen in months.

Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck

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drcrushers · 4 years ago

Text

something i wrote on just for fun. it’s probably a little dumb, but here we are.

Your smile could out-shine the sun.

It had started out innocent enough. An envelope tucked into her momma’s mailbox and addressed to her while she’d been out. Not one to get messages except from Hermes, she’d opened it with some curiosity. A letter, beautifully written in an unfamiliar hand and unsigned at the bottom. Not quite a love letter, but something almost like it. A request to write back, to put it into the mailbox and it would get to the secret author in return.

Fuck it, why not?

She knew it was probably a mortal just showing fondness; she’d gotten letters like it before. But there’s something rather . . . fine. Poetic, in a sense. Kind. Made her feel a bit silly reading it over and over again, but Persephone is in a decent mood and decides to write back to at least thank them for the lovely letter.

So she does.

She keeps it simple. Nothing flowery. Thanks the supposed author for the flattery in the way she does all the mortals when they give her offerings. It’s nice to write a letter; she ain’t in a while. She and Hades ain’t exchanged them in years, he doesn’t have time for them. Much like he doesn’t have time for her, but that’s neither here nor there.

She writes back, signs it sloppily and tucks it into the mailbox.

Persephone doesn’t expect another one back.

I can’t stop smiling when I read your letter, so I hope you don’t mind my reply.

But there it is a few days later, the same handwriting with her name on the front. Which is strange - mortals tend to refer to her by titles, not her name. Afraid of saying it, they’d said once. Invoking her wrath. She’d called it a load of horse shit, but mortals tended to do things their way and she was content on letting them keep up that practice long as they wanted.

This one seemed different.

The letter was a direct response. The same flowery language, delicate and sweet. Flirty, if she didn’t know any better. How flattering. But now she’s just curious - and part of her is spiteful, too. If Hades knew, she could only imagine his fit of jealousy. Good.

Persephone replies.

And so a summer long fling begins. In words of course, nothing more. The letters become a brightness in her days of work. She looks forward to getting them, reading them, and drafting up replies. She develops a collection of them in her vanity drawer and the stack only grows as the summer goes on. A hidden secret, almost. Something her momma or Hades can’t intrude on or say she can’t. Maybe it’s selfish or stupid, but she doesn’t care. Not like it’ll matter come winter. The poor mortal will be dead or have forgotten her, surely. They often do when she goes down to the underworld. Back to her husband who’ll no doubt drive her to the depths of insanity again.

Hell, she might not even make it to the end of the summer. Maybe he’ll come get her early - again. She tries not to think of it, and spends her days bringing the summertime to those who need it most. That’s how she operates. The letters are a nice break and she loses herself in them late into the evenings. Rereading them. Writing back. Pretending she has a friendship-maybe-more with someone who certainly doesn’t build capitalistic hellscapes for what is supposed to be her benefit.

It’s not the butterflies she got from first meeting her husband, but the feeling is something similar. She can’t deny it. She genuinely smiles for what feels like the first time in years when she reads the letters or replies.

We should meet before you go.

The request comes as the summer begins to fade. Fall and winter are close on it’s heels. She thinks immediately it’s a bad idea - but Hermes, who knows now, only encourages it oddly enough. A night out before she’s confined in darkness for six months. It’s not a bad idea.

So she accepts.

---

Persephone hates her reflection.

It shows too many lines, too many wrinkles that have shown up over the years. Her hair is unruly, curlier than her momma’s and it snags everything in the fields in it’s grasp that leaves her plucking foxtails and other burrs out of it for ages. Even down to the shade of her skin - none of it seems particularly beautiful compared to her momma or their other relatives up top. Most of the time she doesn’t give a damn; some days she stares at her reflection and wonders what others must see in her. What her husband had seen in her that day in the garden some centuries ago. What made her so different? So beautiful when there were a plethora of other nymphs, demi-gods, and outright goddesses who outranked her in that regard.

She huffs, drags her fingers across her face. She’s getting old. Too old. Vaguely she wonders if, as a goddess of life, if she’ll end up grey and decrepit and still trying to garden? An old crone, meant to be the embodiment of life. Hera is as old as her momma and still somehow looks decades younger - then again, Hera doesn’t live in the mortal realm, and doesn’t do physical damned labor. Frankly she wonders how a woman like her survived ten years of war, but that’s besides the point. Much as she loathes her own reflection, Persephone would rather be wrinkled and grey than live on that mountain half the year.

She toys with a small pot of dark charcoal eyeliner, well used and worn before picking up a small brush with which to apply it with. She remembers using wild berries to stain her lips long before her momma ever let her near an ounce of make up, trying to make herself look like what she imagined the ones up on the mountain looked like. Ethereal, beautiful, striking women - as a girl she’d had no idea how awful and cruel they could be at the time and simply wanted to embody them. Now she mostly tries to be everything they aren’t out of sheer spite. She uses a rich plum color against her lips, and decides she looks decent enough in the reflection that blinks back at her.

She doesn’t know why she’s doing this - it’s stupid. But she’s just bitter and angry enough at her husband to spite him, too, and Persephone ain’t always made the best decisions sometimes. Hermes had only encouraged her, clearly eager to get her out of her own mind for a night and forget about her crippling marriage.

Harmless night of flirting could do her good. Remind her she ain’t an old washed up hag. Morale boost and all that. Not as if she wasn’t spending the evening in his bed - though the more bitter part of her says it might do her husband some good to think so. Sober his ass right up to keep him acting like a damned moron. Besides, she’s been writing with this stranger all summer. The letters have been her life and Persephone would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious and intrigued. Eager to meet this stranger who’d spent his summer writing to her as well. Clearly he cared and if Persephone could give him a night of enjoyable company (sans anything below the belt) before winter claimed him, so be it.

Huffing, Persephone tries to fuss with her hair - and decides it’s a lost cause. Why does she care so much? She shouldn’t. But she tries. Because Hades ain’t given her the excuse in a while. Might as well enjoy the night, even if it won’t lead to nothing. She ain’t that type - even if she wanted to be. Persephone has been fiercely loyal to her husband and knows he’s the same; they’re just a damned wreck when it comes to communicating. Maybe she can practice on this little date.. It’s the first time she’s given in to Hermes’ encouraging in a while - who she knows would rather see her happy than anything and thinks Hades is the source of all her misery. He’s half right. Truth is she does a lot of misery to herself because she can’t swallow her own damn pride or some other bullshit. Much as Hades has built the wall between them, Persephone’s been supplying him with the bricks for years.

She doesn’t dress fancy. Her usual is good enough, still smelling of the flowers and pollen and the warmth of the sun stitched into the fabric. It’s her favorite. Maybe that’s why Hades had replicated it in black for down below, the dusting of diamonds a nod to how he viewed her as a gem to be displayed. A gown of darkness that was everything her favorite summer dress wasn’t. She doesn’t remember where she got it, just that it’s comfortable and flows freely enough not to restrict her. In the other she feels caged, chest tight and pained when she tries to breathe too deeply. It’s in her head, she knows, but the difference still matters.

Satisfied she looks semi-decent enough to mingle with mortals, Persephone half gallops down the steps in the way she always has at her momma’s house. Ain’t been her house in a while. Ain’t felt like home since she ran off down below. Still, it serves as a roof over her head when she’s up top and her momma is still kind enough most of the time, eager to have her home. Demeter is out in the fields so she isn’t there to throw a comment her way as she leaves the house, the evening air slightly more crisp than usual. A sign that winter would be coming on soon - a sign that she’d be headed back down below in the not too distant future. Frankly she’s surprised Hades ain’t come for her already. Her stomach twists at the thought.

Hermes’ bar isn’t far, the town a small scattering of lights in the growing dim light of day. Small houses gathered together, a quaint little place that had been perfect for Demeter, apparently. The bar was one of the larger buildings, music and voices already adrift out the open door. She can’t remember a time when it wasn’t crowded. Since she’s frequented crowds have only grown - Persephone remembers being worshipped at altars carved of marble and stone; now there’s only the bar that carries her token of favors, her mortals far too eager to buy her a drink in some parody of once bloody sacrifices. She doesn’t complain; they’re good at picking wine.

As always there are gazes that turn her way as she approaches and Persephone plasters a smile across her face. She’s well practiced these days, pretending to be happy. The mortals don’t notice and greet her as always. Raise their cups, toast to their patroness who tries - but it’s hard when old man winter comes early and won’t let her go until late. Hard to keep an entire world going when she gets a fraction of time to bring decent harvests. Still seems no matter how hard she tries there are always ones who don’t make it through the winter. The ones missing from the tables in the bar. She may not remember their exact faces, but she knows they’re missing. Knows these places should be filled by healthy warm bodies - and instead there are only fleeting ghosts in the chairs instead.

“Was wonderin’ if you’d show up.” Hermes remarks lightly, pouring her drink before she can even reach the bar proper. “I always do. Show up. Reckon it’s like clockwork these days.” Persephone replies, grabbing the glass as he finishes and taking a long swig. Immediately the warmth spreads from her belly out, and she knows she’ll be numb by the end of the night. Hopefully.

“Sit yourself down. Or make the rounds. Whatever ya like. Your friend ain’t here yet.”

She snorts. “Of course not.”

Holding tight to her drink, Persephone does a turn about the room. The mortals are usually pleased to see her, leech off the warmth she naturally radiates. A smile, a laugh, a dance - it’s all too familiar to her and she’s happy to help in the ways she can. If they’re gonna die, they might as well die happy. Either way in the end they all come to her in the underworld. Once she could have granted them some semblance of the afterlife, but now they all toil away in those damned factories and mines. But they don’t need to know it. Not yet. Not now.

She loses track of time as some point, because Hermes suddenly grabs her by the elbow and they do a little twirl. Her body is less tight, the alcohol already working easily into her system to let her at least enjoy the night without struggling to forget about her shithole marriage.

“Your date is here.” He grins.

“Ain’t a date.” She teases. “Least, better not let my man hear you say that.”

“Won’t hear it from me, sister.” Hermes winks, and turns her nearly into the arms of another. A sharp, delightful feeling races up her arms and down her spine the second her hands touch the rough ones of the other figure.

She knows who it is without question, without even looking up. A smile comes unbidden before she can stop it.

“It’s you.” She whispers, one of those hands coming up to tuck beneath her chin, to bring her gaze to his. Her heart races and she wants to laugh.

Hades smiles.

“It’s me.”

#hadestown #inspired by the pina colada song ngl

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fanfalc-616 · 4 years ago

Text

Time for Amnesia

Chapter Ten: “Don’t Make Me Repeat Myself.”

(Previous Chapter Here)

Yeah sorry for the mix up here’s the chapter I finally wrote after like 6 months-

Something pokes his face.

Blinking groggily, Kai looks around. Where the hell is he this time? What’s going on?

It takes him a few moments to realize that he’s stuck in some kind of prison cell, laying uncomfortably on the floor.

Jay pokes him again. “Are you awake yet?” He prompts.

Kai immediately gets to his feet, cursing at the stone walls lined with metal and the way the sole window is in the door, a set of bars through it for extra security.

“Yeah, we’re kinda stuck. Captured. The others probably have no idea where we are or who kidnapped us- we don’t even know who kidnapped us.” Jay gives a quiet laugh- one more out of fear than humor.

“We’re gonna die. This is it. We’re just going to get murdered here. Are we even going to find out who captured us? I mean probably, but we’ll be killed immediately after. I’d say we haunt them as ghosts, but after seeing what that did to Cole, I’d rather be in an afterlife. I think. I’ll have to ask him what being a ghost was really like- or I would, if we had the chance to see him before getting murdered!” Jay’s clearly panicking, and- hey, isn’t he supposed to be the experienced one here?!

Kai stares at him for a few moments. “We- we’re not gonna die.” His voice is shaky, but he tries to ignore that as he goes up to the barred window in the door. No, he won’t die, he refuses to die. This can’t be how it ends, with him not even knowing who he is! That’s not fair!

He wills his fire into his hands, but nothing happens. Scowling, he tries again, but for some reason, it still doesn’t work.

Ugh, come on, he did this before without even really thinking about it! Why is it so hard to do now?!

“Jay, blast this thing with lightning!” He instructs. “We can figure out where to go from there.”

Jay looks unimpressed. “It’s vengestone. You can’t use elemental powers when there’s vengestone.” He sounds tired, and Kai gives him a glare.

“Would you mind picking an emotion and sticking with it? Panic or calm or annoying or whatever? I’m not in the mood to navigate whatever the hell is going on in your head.”

He ignores the sputtering noise the ginger makes in response in favor of looking closer at the bars of the cell they’re in. There’s gotta be something he can do here…

Unfortunately, if there actually is something he can do, he can’t figure out what it is. Which is bullshit, but something tells him this is how his life usually ends up going.

With a grimace, he looks back at Jay. “Do you know who captured us? Or why?”

The other shrugs, which only serves to fuel his annoyance. “No idea,” he admits, “but they’re probably trying to keep us from stopping them from doing something evil.”

For a few moments, all he can do is stare. Seriously? This is what he’s working with here? What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

“That’s super helpful, thanks,” he grumbles sarcastically, silently lamenting his past self. Why would he hang out with these people to begin with? Sure, they said something about him needing to rescue Nya, but couldn’t he have just left afterwards? Why would he let himself get put into these situations?

“Look, we- we’re probably gonna be fine.” Jay assures. “It’s just- uh. I tend to overreact a lot. It’s gonna be okay, I just freak out easy.” He sounds uncertain of himself, and Kai resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Like I said: pick an emotion and stick to it,” he snaps, turning away again. This entire situation is infuriating as it is, he really doesn’t need Jay pissing him off more.

Shaking his head, Kai comes to a conclusion. He doesn’t know what’s going down here, but whatever it is needs to hurry up and just happen.

Narrowing his eyes, he takes a step back, trying to dig back into those forgotten memories. He knows how to fight, doesn’t he? Why can't he remember it?!

With a huff, he comes to a decision. He’ll give this a shot and hope that his muscle memory will take care of it.

“Kai?” Jay speaks up behind him, but Kai ignores him in favor of taking a deep breath, preparing himself.

“Kai, I don’t think-“

Summoning all of the rage and frustration inside of him, Kai moves forward, kicking the door with as much strength as he can muster.

But even with all the force in his hit, the door only rattles against its hinges in response.

As a matter of fact, the only real result is the red-hot pain that’s suddenly jolting up his leg.

The high-pitched yelp that escapes him is just plain embarrassing, and as if to damage his pride more, he ends up stumbling backwards, falling flat on his ass against the stone floor.

“Ow,” he grumbles, grabbing his foot instinctively. Damn, that hurt a lot more than he thought it would- well, actually, he wasn’t expecting it to hurt at all. In the movies, the door would’ve just swung right open.

But this isn’t a movie. This is real.

The sudden understanding hits him like a bucket of ice water.

He keeps not thinking, he keeps just acting, but this isn’t a game. He knows nothing about what’s going on, he doesn’t know what enemies he has, and all he’s done so far is alienate the people who he needs to stay alive.

Jay pries his hands off of his foot, and Kai feels himself flinch. When had he gotten that close?

“Alright, uh, maybe don’t do that again.” The ginger suggests. “It doesn’t look too bad, but there’s probably gonna be a few bruises.”

Grimacing, Kai nods. “Okay,” he agrees, ignoring the frustration boiling in his chest.

He can’t afford to keep doing this. Like it or not, this is his situation. If he keeps this up, he’s going to get himself killed. He needs to work with the allies his past self had made- he has them for a reason.

That doesn’t make them any less annoying, though.

Jay seems surprised- probably because he didn’t snap at him. Well, actually, if he’s being honest, he probably needs to do something to fix whatever damage he had done to their relationship since he woke up.

Not romantically, though. He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Gritting his teeth, he abandons his pride- for the moment, at least. “I was being mean to you earlier. ‘m sorry.” He mutters the words in a low growl, refusing to look at the other while he does.

Even though his eyes are on the floor, he can still tell how startled Jay is. Which is honestly fair- Kai hasn’t exactly been the nicest since he woke up.

“What?”

Flashing him a glare, Kai struggles to keep his temper under control. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he snaps.

He has to get along with these people, sure- he doesn’t have a choice- but would it really hurt for them to be less annoying? Or is that just their personalities?

Jay opens his mouth to reply, but just then, there’s a weird slithering noise coming down the hall, growing closer. Silently, they exchange a glance. The ginger seems to be trying to tell him something, but for the life of him, he can’t figure out what.

Quickly pulling the two of them to their feet, Jay grabs him by the arm and pushes him against the wall by the door. Once he has, he takes a few steps back, staring out the window definitely.

It takes a moment before that clicks- if the door is opened, anything on the other side won’t be able to immediately see him. Of course, it comes with the risk of getting a bloody nose, but-

The noise stops just outside the door, and even though Kai can’t see past the bars where he is, he can at least see the ginger’s almost shocked expression.

“Hello there, ninja. Long time no see, hm?”

Taking half a step back and clenching his fists, Jay seems to be trying to swallow back his fear. “Ha, with that ugly mug, I wish it’d been longer!” He snaps.

“And you are still as unoriginal as always, it seems,” the stranger tsks, sounding amused. “But I suppose I must ask, what happened to that little fire-starting friend of yours? He was in here earlier, I know.”

Kai feels himself tense, but Jay doesn’t even glance in his direction. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” He finishes the words off with a hesitant smirk, but then pauses. “Well, I mean, I guess technically I’m the one with the lightning powers… but I’m still not telling you anything!”

There’s another pause, and after a few moments of it, Jay huffs, narrowing his eyes. “I see that someone doesn't know their memes, huh?”

“Yes, well, some of us are actually intelligent. But that is… besides the point. I wasn’t aiming for the two of you in particular for this, but I suppose you’ll do.”

This time, Jay does glance towards Kai, a poorly-hidden terrified look on his face for the split second their eyes meet.

“So he’s just beside the door, then? Hmm. I suppose I had a bit too high of an opinion of you both to think one of you could have escaped,” the stranger chuckles again, somehow making it sound even more insulting than before. “But then again, I most likely would have caught him again anyway.”

Kai can feel his breathing catch at the words, his entire body tensing with apprehension.

Who even is this guy?!

Jay scoffs, but he’s still clearly stressed out. “Don’t flatter yourself, Pythor. We’ve beaten you before, and we’ll do it again!”

Alright, so their name is Pythor. If Kai didn’t know any better, he’d say that that kind of name would belong to a serpentine. But serpentine are just an old bedtime story, so they can’t be-

Well, it wasn’t long ago he thought the same thing about magic. So it might be possible. But it still doesn’t sound-

Wait. When Lloyd was telling him about the volcano… he mentioned serpentine, didn’t he? And- and this Pythor guy specifically!

… and this serves to show that Kai should really pay more attention to what these guys talk about.

Speaking of which, he should probably tune back in to whatever’s going on with Jay and Pythor now.

“-can’t be serious. I mean, I knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new level, even for you. Didn’t someone actually say that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results? I don’t remember who, but my point stands! You-“

“Yes, well, I don’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter. I do, however, have other questions I would like answers to.” The words are spoken threateningly, intense enough that Kai can feel himself shudder.

Jay, however, looks unaffected- actually, he looks like he’s starting to calm down from his earlier panic. “And why would we give them to you?”

Fear still coiled in his guts, Kai forces himself to take deep breaths. This doesn’t look good, and Jay just seems to be escalating the situation. And Kai would try to do the opposite but one: he doesn’t know how. Two: he’s pretty sure Pythor wouldn’t listen. And three: he has a very intense desire to punch this guy in the face. There’s not really a reason, he’s just annoying and sounds really punchable.

“Well, blue ninja, I think you’ll find it’s because you don’t have a say in the matter. One way or another, I-“

Fuck it.

Shoving his rational thoughts to the side, Kai quickly sidesteps in front of the door. And- yeah, that’s definitely a serpentine. Still, he doesn’t let himself dwell on that. If anything, the long neck is a plus.

Because it’s that much easier to reach through the bars and grab.

Hand tight around Pythor’s throat, he yanks him into the door, forcing his head to slam against it with a very satisfying smack.

Kai lets himself smirk as he lets go, expecting the snake to collapse to the floor from the force of the hit.

Instead, he finds himself staring into infuriated magenta eyes.

Oh. Okay.

Kai may have made a mistake.

#ninjago fanfiction #time for amnesia au #fanfiction

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anarchy-n-glitter · 4 years ago

Text

RE: Betrayal

Summary: Jolene West thought she was going to say goodbye to the Bakers before leaving for college, but little did she know, their home had become a living hell for outsiders. Now, she has to find a way out after being taken prisoner by Lucas Baker - someone she once called a friend - as she is tortured mentally and physically.

(Warnings: graphic depictions of sexual assault, vulgar language, gore.) If any of these things bother you please don't read. Take care of yourselves guys and stay safe!!! Also this whole first part is written in the first person cause I wrote this a w h i l e ago.

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

The hot and humid late summer Louisiana air blew through the open windows of my car. I felt nervous and a little saddened about my oncoming departure from Dulvey, but I knew that I could come back for the holidays and return for good after I was done with college… if I wanted to, that is.

There was nothing but dense swamp flora before me as I drove into the forest next to my old friends’ home. While I hadn’t heard from them in a few months, I figured it had been because of the possible damage that could’ve been done after the hurricane that came through. They were fixing their house up, it seemed the most logical to me. These people were like family to me, I had been friends with their children since I could remember. The only time we weren’t together was when my family and I briefly moved to Georgia due to my father’s new job. Obviously it didn’t last long, we weren’t there for more than six months before moving back home to Dulvey. For my little visit, I decided to drive through the forest surrounding their house to surprise them. I could go through the old house and head through the main house front door. I was sure they wouldn’t mind.

The mud stuck to the bottom of my boots and I could only hope that it would rub off on nearby stone or maybe the wood of the old house porch, it would be rude of me to track it inside of their home. There was something strange about the property as I approached it, the smell of smoke filled the air and no one was around. The front seemed to be flooded as well. This worried me.

It was best not to climb over the gate, if I were to do that I’d just end up in a gross and muddy mess, so I decided to go around and through the path to the back. The deeper I ventured, the more I worried. Normally they kept up with cleaning the steps and keeping the vegetation trimmed back so one could easily walk through, but everything had become overgrown and the wooden steps were covered in mud. As the trail opened up to the lake, I noticed how dirty everything else had become. While yes, it was outdoors, everything was well kept a few months ago, but now it was muddy. Everything. I blamed it on the storm again and moved on. Although, I did find it interesting when I found rope blocking off the opening to the lake. I had a bad feeling about it, but I went through it anyway. I would regret it later.

The side of the house came into view at last! I clutched at my bag, running up the steps and checked under the mat for the key. I couldn’t seem to find it, which completely ruined my plans. Quickly, I knocked on the door, hoping that maybe someone was inside the house. As my fist beat down on the door, it opened. No one seemed to be in sight, but I went in anyway. Another decision I would later regret.

The house was peeling away and reeked of mold. I feared for my health and the health of The Bakers. The wooden planks beneath my feet creaked with every step I took and gave away my position in the house to anyone or anything that resided within it. The kitchen table was cluttered and held a whole bunch of newspapers that were damp, ruined. There were a few garbage bags scattered among the halls, decorating the house and adding to my growing worry. The furniture had become damaged as well, the stuffing coming out of a few rips in the couches. After a while, I had actually come across mold. I had walked by an opened drawer and noticed the black fungus inside. But it looked weird. It wasn’t like any mold I had ever seen. I didn’t dare pay any more attention to it than I needed, though. At the time it was just regular mold to me.

As I made my way around the old house, I heard creaking from other rooms. My nerves were set on edge and I found myself frantically trying to open the door. For some strange reason, the setting of the old house had gotten to me. It was nothing like I remembered and there was an unsettling feeling that took over me. The door wouldn’t open, however. My breath quickened as the footsteps got closer, so I did what I thought would save me.

“Hello? Mr. Jack? Mrs. Marguerite? It’s me, Jolene. I came to say bye…” I stated as I cautiously made my way down the hallway once more. There was no answer, and that startled me even more. Perhaps it wasn’t them, maybe it was someone who had broken in. If that were the case, I was in a whole lot of trouble.

“Lucas? Zoe?” I called out. There was still no answer, only the sounds of footsteps quickening. I could barely see a thing due to the windows still being boarded up from the storm. My heartbeat echoed through my ears and I was sure others in the house could hear it, even if I knew that probably wasn’t the case. The living room was to my left and the closest room I could escape into, so I did. The familiar sound of the tv static filled my ears and replaced the sounds of my heartbeat and the foreign footsteps. This wasn’t the best thing though, how could I tell if they were getting closer to my hiding spot if the static was deafening?

I rushed to the tv set, turning it off. Finally, there was complete silence… but that wasn’t right. By the time I realized the footsteps had stopped, there was a rag over my mouth. I began to panic, which didn’t help at all. Within a few seconds I was out cold. It was a heavy, dreamless sleep that enveloped me after the rag was pressed to my face. Nothing but inky blackness and no memories of that sleep that overcame me.

CHAPTER 2

Instead of any answers to the questions that looped around in my head, I was locked in a cell, seated on the floor. There was a bed placed against the stone brick wall with salmon-colored blankets draped over it. The floor, which was cement, was damp with a few actual puddles in random places. There was a single lamp attached to the wall above my head, illuminating the otherwise dark cell. As I stood from my place on the floor, a body came into view. I jumped, accidentally hitting my head on the lamp, moving it slightly from the position it was in.

Indeed, there was a woman sleeping on the bed. Her raven locks spread on the pillow and covering her face. She wasn’t under the blankets, instead curled up on top of them. Her shirt was dirty and greying, but I felt as if I had seen it before. I shrugged this feeling off, however, and walked away from the stranger’s sleeping form.

If I were to find out just what happened and if I were still in the Baker’s home, it would be a miracle. I had just begun living a hellish life. Sadly, for me, there was no escaping from it.

The gate before me was just sitting there, taunting me as I sat with my arms wrapped around my knees. It’s only lock, which was a single chain held together by a lock that required a key to remove, was winking at me mockingly in the LED light that flooded across from the desk on the other side of the room. I felt like I was watching the bars of the cell door rust and crumble with my bare eyes. It was almost as if I was going insane down here. I had felt every wall, nook and cranny. I tried pulling out every single stone on the wall to find a hidden passage to the outside world. I just wanted to get out, and this stupid cell door was sneering at me, just rubbing my captivity in my face. So, I did the only thing I hadn’t done yet. I gripped the bars and shook the door, hoping it would break off.

The stranger in the bed stirred as I rattled the gates. I wanted out, this was driving me crazy and I had actually begun to panic. They couldn’t keep us in here, whoever they were. We weren’t animals, we weren’t meant to be caged. Come to think of it, not even animals deserve to be caged, especially in conditions like this. It had been at least two days since I woke up in this cell, or at least I thought it was. There were no windows down here or any source of light to tell me if it was day or night, to tell me when to wake up or when to go to sleep. There wasn’t a clock or a calendar to tell me how many days had gone by. My body was completely thrown off by this, especially since I had been passing out due to sheer exhaustion. I knew that restlessly searching the cell was a bad idea from the start, but it was worth a shot.

The air was thick and hard to breath, making me wonder how long this woman had been here for. From behind me, I could hear the gentle taps of shoes touching the ground. The woman must have finally awoken. I remained seated seeing as I wouldn’t want to startle her. She must have been down here for a long time seeing as her body was covered in dark mud. I didn’t observe her up close while she slept, that would have been creepy.

“Wha-who are you?” Her voice was soft yet had this uneasy sound to it as she spoke. It was clear that she was scared. I turned around, wrapping my arms around my legs, bringing them to my chest and resting my head on my bare knees. The tights I wore had ripped when I woke up, luckily the scabs had formed by now and the stinging had gone. My cheeks were red, my eyes as well. She furrowed her eyebrows at my appearance, slowly gliding off of the bedside and sitting on the floor across from me.

“How did you get here?” She asked, this time a bit louder and less frantic.

“I don’t know how I got in here, but I do know how I got to this estate. I drove.” I drawled. She looked down at the ground, grabbing her upper arm.

“Why would you come here?” She inquired, she sounded frantic once again. I sat there, contemplating her question. Why would I go there? Did I even remember why I was coming here? I didn’t spend much time dwelling on this question before shrugging. Whatever reason it was that dragged me here, it must have been really important.

“My name’s Jolene.” I told her in a voice softer than silk. Her expression changed slightly, it was subtle enough so anyone who wasn’t focusing on her directly wouldn’t notice, but she smiled. It was quite faint and I could barely tell he was smiling, but she was.

“Mia.”

“So, Mia, when did ya get here?” I asked her. Maybe she had arrived shortly before I did and we might have a chance at getting out.

“I-I don’t remember. I-It’s been so long.” She explained. I felt my body go numb at this. Maybe she was like me and lost track of time and it felt like forever. I was panicking again, what if she was right? What if she has been here for a while? I had to get out of here.

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking me in the eye with worry. My breathing became ragged and the tears started up again.

“Will ya help me?”

“What?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I need to get out of here. I know that if we try we can both get out of here.” I told her, sounding more frantic by the second as I grabbed her shoulders. She looked away for a moment before looking at me with a glint of determination in her eye.

“I’ll help.” And with that, we planned our escape. She told me about when they bring the food in and where they come from. For her, they come once a day with food through the stone hallway at the end of the room. According to Mia, it was either Marguerite or Lucas who came to bring the rancid food. This threw me off briefly, I remembered her cooking and it was usually the best. There was definitely something wrong here. I had an idea on what to do if it’s Lucas, but I was still at a loss for ideas if Marguerite comes. All of my bags were in my car, which was probably gone by now, and my bags had bobby pins that I could have used by now. It took a few days to coordinate what we were going to do, plan everything. When we got out, we would make our way through the stone corridor and go from there. Hopefully, there would be a clear path leading us to the outside world instead of multiple doors that would trap us in this hellhole.

All of our planning paid off in the end, Lucas had brought the food. He unlocked the chain, stuffing the key in his pocket before opening the door just wide enough to slide the food in. I looked at Mia briefly before standing up and approaching the door. He slammed the door shut and locked the chain as I gripped the bars, pressing my entire body against the door to get as close as possible, he ignored this and began to walk away.

“Lucas? I-is it really you?” I asked, my voice uneven. He smirked at me, turning around and approaching the bars once more. He didn’t say anything, only staring at me through the rusty bars of the cell door. I reached out with one hand to make sure he was real, or at least to make it seem like I was. While my right hand ghosted along his cheekbones, my other one slid into his jacket pocket. Carefully, I gripped the key and withdrew my hand from his pocket before gently wrapping my hand around the bars, the key safe in my palm. Stubble scratched at my fingertips as I pulled my hand away, my eyes glued to his pale and sunken-in features. All I wanted now was for him to leave, and he showed no intent on staying. That was all I could gather from studying his almost emotionless expression. I hoped he planned on leaving soon.

“Well then, if I didn’t know any better I’d say I was dreaming. Jolene. Long time no see.” He mused as a wide and chilling smile making its way to his pale, thin lips. I masked my nerves to the best of my abilities and faked a small smile while averting my eyes.

“I-I thought you were dead…” I mentioned in a tone barely above a whisper. I looked back up, tears filling my eyes as I thought about my childhood, them before they supposedly ‘died.’

“I thought ya all were.” I continued, sadness laced within my words as I spoke them. Mia stood silently behind me as I conversed with my long lost friend. Although, he barely seemed like my childhood companion. Not only had he physically changed, but personality wise as well. He was like a completely different person; a much louder and cockier person.

“Guess we proved you wrong then, huh?” His words echoed within the walls, ringing in my ears along with the laughter that followed. A chill went down my spine once more and I found myself unable to look at him. Not only was I unable to look at him; I was unable to discover why he was like this, no, why they were all like this. It didn’t make sense. The Bakers were so kind and welcoming, but now… I hadn’t seen any of them except for Lucas, who I hadn’t seen up until now. He was never as welcoming as the rest of his family and normally seemed cold and reserved, but he was never loud and obnoxious. He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning, blonde hair.

“I really hope she likes you, it’d be a shame if she didn’t.” He states nonchalantly before walking away, leaving me only a few moments to process this cryptic statement and barely enough time to react.

“Wait, ‘she?’ Lucas, wait! Who’re ya talking about?” I inquired. My only answer was the sound of a door closing that bounced off of the walls and throughout the cell. I looked back at Mia, who was seated on the bed once again, staring at me with wide, curious eyes. I realized what she was waiting for and opened my left palm, revealing the small, silver key. Her whole demeanor had changed with this reveal, she hopped to her feet and made her way to the door, waiting for me to unlock it.

“Ya remember the plan, right?” She asked, her voice giving off hints of nervousness. I nodded before slipping my arms between the bars and grasping at the chain to retrieve the lock. I jammed the key within the lock and turned it, pulling it down and off of the chain. A loud clattering was bouncing off of the walls and I had to quickly silence it by pulling the manacle out myself, instead of letting it drop to the floor. The cell door squeaked on its hinges as we made our way out of the cell.

It was dead silent, no noise was heard other than our breath and footsteps. This was unnerving and made me feel quite sick. With every shaky breath I took and every sneaking footstep, I felt as if someone could hear it; I felt as if someone could see it. We inched closer, towards a small crawlspace that opened up into another room. I remembered Mia mentioned this room when she told me about the rooms leading up to our cell. I was too quick to celebrate. I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard Mia drop. Slowly, I turned my head to see what had happened. When I didn’t notice a figure behind her or anywhere near us, I rushed to help her.

“M-Mia… Mia come on, we have to go.” I shook her gently. The only response I got was a low, growl-like sound.

“I can’t leave.” She rasped. I jumped, falling backward onto the concrete floor. Mia stood, raising her head to reveal her completely blackened eyes and grey-looking skin. My breathing quickened as she approached me. It wasn’t long before she had my wrist in her deadly grip.

“I can never leave!” She exclaimed in her new, demonic-sounding voice. And with that she threw me across the room, through the wooden crawlspace which broke upon impact. I groaned and attempted to get up, but once I had regained my composure, she was running toward me. I turned around and squeezed through the crawlspace, barely avoiding her clawing hands. I slid through the crawlspace and rushed to the door on the other side of the room. I knew she was catching up to me.

Once the door was open, I collided into something... or someone. They slammed the door shut and yanked me up by my hair.

“Did ya think I wouldn’t have noticed that the damn key was missing? Hm? Ya must think I’m pretty fucking stupid. What made ya think that’d work? Huh?” My blood ran cold as soon as he spoke. He must have been waiting. He knew we’d escape, was Mia the ‘she’ he was talking about. His grip on my hair loosened and I tried to run, but he grabbed ahold again, this time dragging me along with him.

“P-please let me go back… I swear I won’t t-try to escape ag-again.” I pleaded. The only response I got from him was a mix between a scoff and a laugh before telling me what was going to happen.

“Oh no, you… are going to the mines.” He growled. The mines were always creepy to me, which was why I refused to go near them. There were records of people dying in there, thus creating rumors that they were haunted, which was what kept me out. The mines were definitely going to become my worst nightmare, that much I knew. Next thing I knew there was a cloth pressed against my face again, and I was out cold, caught in a dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 3

(THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF RAPE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT; PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Something felt off when I had awoken. My head was still fuzzy from what happened before I was knocked out, but I remembered how I had gotten there. Mia’s grey skin and angry face was still seared into my mind and I still had a lot of questions. I took in my new surroundings and it was true that I was not in a traditional cell any more, but instead in the mines as Lucas had promised. I was in a bed this time, facing the farthest wall. I took in my surroundings, taking note of the white, cement-like substance that made up the walls and immediately remembering that it was salt. There was a bright, LED lamp hanging from the ceiling that was closest to the foot of the bed. My eyes trailed to the door. It was a large, metallic, sturdy-looking door with gears and complicated locks on it. It was clear that they didn’t want me getting away this time.

I soon noticed something in the middle of the room; I noticed something that would chill me to the bone. My clothes, everything I was wearing, was folded up on the ground with an old, brass key sitting on top of the pile. My eyes widened as I soon realized that I was fully nude beneath the old, worn sheets, and my left leg was shackled to the metal-bar foot board. I broke out in a cold sweat and rushed to get up. The pile of clothes and the key seemed to be close enough for me to crawl and at least drag it over.

“Good! Yer awake!” A voice echoed over an intercom. I grimaced and realized that he had been watching the entire time. I should have known.

“So, here’s how it’s gonna go.” He began in an almost taunting voice. “If ya can get the key and yer clothes before yer time is up, ya can go free.” He explained. I glared at the ground.

“How long do I have?”

“I’ll make it fair, ya have fifteen seconds to grab that key.” He told me. The amount of amusement present in his voice was quite alarming. It was sickening. As soon as I heard him utter the words ‘go,’ I was on the ground reaching for the pile of clothes. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that it was just out of reach. My stomach dropped at this realization.

“Ten.”

“This is impossible.” I muttered to myself, tears filling my eyes like water would fill a swimming pool. I stopped trying, knowing that my futile attempts were bringing him some sick form of pleasure.

“Five.” He drawled. I stood up and crawled back onto the bed before curling into a ball and crying. This was a nightmare, at this point in my life, I regretted fearing anything other than this. This had quickly become a living hell. I’m sure I wouldn’t be half as frightened of this if I still had my clothes.

“Aww, did ya give up?” I scowled at his taunting.

“What the hell do you think?” I asked rhetorically. He laughed at this. He just laughed. Next thing I knew, everything was silent. The intercom was off, that was obvious due to his laughter being cut off, and for some reason, that was more unnerving than when the intercom was on. So, for the next few minutes I sat alone, fighting back tears, knowing that crying wouldn’t do me any good. Everything was silent, almost peaceful. It would have been enjoyable if not for why I was here.

Footsteps had interrupted my peace. Echoing footsteps from just outside the door. I sat up, holding the blanket over myself and bringing my knees up… I was cowering. The door had opened with a loud creak before revealing the source of the footsteps. Of course it was him. He smiled at me with that terrifying, wide smile that made my blood run cold. He walked into the room, closing the door behind him and kicking the pile of clothes and the key away. He inched toward the bed in large strides, making me cower in the corner where the bed and wall met.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted me giddily. I avoided making eye contact and focused on my sheet-covered foot.

“Come on, baby girl, look at me.” I refused to do so, instead, I turned my head in an act of defiance. He scoffed before speaking again.

“Jolene, don’t make me do something I wouldn’t want to.” His voice was low and served as my first and only warning. I didn’t want to make him angry, considering this was him when he was in a good mood and I was scared of him as it was.

“There we go, now was that so hard?” I refused to answer, actually, I think it was rhetorical. Now was my chance to ask about Mia and to find out what happened.

“What happened to Mia? She… she changed. It was like… she wasn’t human.” I asked. Lucas chuckled at my questions before leaning forward and taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t you worry yer pretty little head about that. Anything that happens outside of here doesn’t matter anymore.” He states before dipping his head and hovering over my collarbone. I stiffened as he moved closer to me, his breath dancing across my bare shoulders and leaving behind goosebumps in its place. My heartbeat sped up as he crawled onto the bed, getting way too close for comfort, I attempted to back up further, but couldn’t go too far before my back hit the wall. I was cornered, but it wasn’t like I could get away if I wasn’t currently in a corner.

“Yer mine now.” He muttered against my skin as he grasped my shoulders. I wanted to scream, but I found myself unable to do anything other than grab the front of his hoodie.

“What are ya doing?” I surprised myself by talking, I was sure my tongue was paralyzed along with the rest of my fear-stricken body. Lucas didn’t stop pursuing after I uttered these words, instead, he closed the gap between our bodies, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I let go of his hoodie and placed my hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him away from me. A deep growl emitted from him as he nipped at my neck. I audibly squeaked. That was when I realized what he was doing. My breathing picked up as I began panicking and trying to shove him off of me and succeeding for a brief moment.

My screams and cries for help barely surfaced before Lucas grabbed my legs and pulled them so they were laying straight while at the same time pulling me closer to him. He climbed on top of me and had me pinned once again, one hand holding my wrists and the other clamped over my mouth. I struggled beneath him, trying to break free from his grasp and screaming. I knew no one could hear me, it wasn’t for them to hear, it was more of a reflex if anything, a noise I made in sheer terror. Because that’s what I was, terrified. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head before leaning down once more to bite and kiss at my neck again. I continued to thrash around, but his weight kept me in place. Once my cries for help had died down to small whimpers, he took his hand off of my mouth. With the same hand, he ripped the blanket from my own hands and grasped for the soft flesh I had hidden beneath. I gasped and used all my strength to throw him off of me. I could only get my arms free of his grasp. Of course, this started a struggle, he tried to pin my arms again and I tried to find some sort of leverage.

It was all so sudden, there was the feeling of my fist coming into contact with a prickly surface, then the weight on my waist had been lifted, and I was up and struggling to run toward the door and key. An angry groan emitted from behind me and I knew that if I didn’t get away I was doomed. And doomed I was, he grabbed ahold of my hair and tugged me back as I struggled to grab the key. Instead of pulling me onto the bed, he flipped me over. Due to the shackle on my left ankle, my entire left leg was lifted and still on the bed, spreading my legs unintentionally. His calloused hands found their way to my neck in an instant and he squeezed until all air was cut from my lungs. I grasped at his sleeves, begging him to stop with only my eyes. He leaned forward, pure anger was written all over his face.

“You…” He began, his voice dripping with venom. Even though I couldn’t see it, I was sure I went pale. His cold glare sent a shiver down my spine.

“You… dumb bitch! If you knew what was good for you…” My vision blurred briefly before his grip let up. I found myself gasping for air and coughing, turning over so I didn’t upset him further by coughing in his face. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Will you behave now?” He asked me. I nodded, blinking back the tears and preparing myself for what was to come. His chapped lips slammed onto mine as he climbed between my legs, pressing himself against me. My eyes were as wide as the moon, the tears that I was trying to keep away finally fell from my eyes as I realized that I couldn’t get away. He fumbled with his belt buckle, the metal clanking against itself as if it were reminding me of the horrors awaiting me. He pulled away from me, his tongue slightly peeking through his lips. It wasn’t long before he returned his attention to the soft flesh of my neck, him licking a long, wet stripe up to my earlobe. I shuddered in utter disgust, but held my tongue. His hands roamed, squeezing and pinching random places on my body. I cringed at the sound of cloth dropping to the floor.

“You ready for this, baby girl?” He asked rhetorically before pulling his underwear down. I suppressed a sob, trying to ignore the dull pain that lingered in my lower regions. His groans of pleasure filled the room and I quickly found myself to be repulsed by his actions, hell, I was repulsed by him in general at this point. His thrusts were rough and unforgiving, I felt my skin tearing against the ground as I rubbed against it. Although, the word rubbed was an understatement. A sob broke through as the pain became unbearable. He never stopped, only lifted my back, but in the process brought me closer to him. That was not a position I wanted to be in. His other hand trailed to my breasts, squeezing one in his large hand, his thumb running over my nipple.

I bit back small cries - sobs, really - as he continued to chase his own pleasure at my expense. He bit down on my shoulder, drawing blood, the pain ran through me, setting my skin ablaze. I choked on my own spit as I gasped while Lucas sucked at the new wound. A sob escaped me, causing Lucas to stop sucking the blood from my shoulder and look at me. I shut my eyes to prevent any tears from falling, turning my head as well. He grabbed onto my hips harder, his dull fingernails creating crescent shapes in the soft flesh there as he dug into my skin. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, trying my best to ignore his panting and my own small cries.

After a while, everything died down. He was finally finished and was getting dressed, leaving me on the ground, a disturbed and disheveled mess. I had quickly decided that I hated him. I shouldn’t hate him, he used to be my best friend. This… this was unforgivable, though. I finally got up, diving under the sheets. I eyed him warily, watching as he made his way to the door.

“W-wait. Can I get my clothes back?” I stuttered. He looked back at me briefly, flashing a sadistic smile before bursting into laughter. His laugh echoed through the mines as he left, the laugh that would haunt my nightmares.

#resident evil oc #resident evil fanfic #RE Betryal #Jolene West #lucas baker x oc #zoe baker x oc #tw r*pe #the RE chronicles

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jwillowwolf · 3 years ago

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Magic and Miracles - Chapter 12

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 12!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “You are all insane,” Everleigh declared blankly.

“We are perfectly sane,” Logan replied.

Remus shrugged. “Well, sane enough...”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

12 | Searching

“No! We can’t just close it!”

“Virgil, there’s nothing we can do.”

“We could find the miracle.”

“That’s an impossible quest and you know it.”

“But there is a chance.”

After Remy told Tanya they needed to close the porthole, Virgil had snapped and was now fighting to keep it open. No one else dared to speak up while the pair argued over the matter. Instead, they just stood to the side, watching with growing anxiety over what the outcome would be.

“If you leave it open then that earl will attack.”

“Not if we find the-”

“There’s nothing you can do, why can’t you accept that?”

The room fell into near-complete silence as everyone waited for Virgil’s reaction. For the moment, he was just standing there stone-faced and staring at Remy. Remy looked uncharacteristically angry. Honestly, the students had seen him upset but never this upset. Still, Virgil just watched him.

“...There is something I can do. That’s why I won’t give up on them.”

Remy’s expression morphed into empathy and regret as he realised what he meant. To Virgil, closing the porthole meant giving up. It meant letting his grandmother die alone in that tower. It meant abandoning an entire realm, a race of people, to a power-hungry usurper. It meant accepting that there was nothing more he could do. And Virgil couldn’t do that.

Before Remy could apologise though, Virgil’s wings sprouted from his back and he flew away. The others were simply left in shock to absorb the meaning of his words.

Remy sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Tanya shrugged. “You could have been a tad more… understanding, but he does need to understand that what he’s suggesting is far too dangerous.”

“...I should go after him-”

“Or maybe it’s better if we go,” Janus interjected, gesturing to the class. “He’s been through a lot. He might not be ready to forgive you just yet.”

Logan nodded. “We’ll make sure he’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“The best thing for Virgil right now would be comfort. You can counsel him later,” Willow said.

Remy sighed and nodded defeatedly. Logan then led Janus, Willow, Patton, Remus, and Roman to where he remembered Virgil’s room was. Or where he hoped was Virgil’s room. He’d been quite overwhelmed last time he was here so he was only 92% sure they were at the right door. Before any of them could knock though, Virgil opened the door and looked like he was leaving with a bag full of supplies.

Logan frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Uh… nowhere.”

“Lying to your friends now, eh? And here we were coming to comfort you,” Janus remarked.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I won’t be talked out of it.”

“Who said we’re here to talk you out of it?” Remus refuted.

“Are you going to try finding the miracle? By yourself?” Patton questioned.

“Maybe…” Virgil muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, you can forget that idea. Because we’re coming with you.” Roman declared.

Virgil looked at the group disbelievingly.

“Come on man, we were ready to follow you into a realm of magic and mystery. We’re not letting you drop us that easily.” Willow remarked.

“Are you guys sure?”

Logan nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re here for you. To support any way we can.”

“Thanks, guys. Now, I’m not sure how to sneak us all out of here.”

“Have you forgotten about magic? We can make a porthole.” Janus reminded him.

“Where to go though?” Roman asked.

“Everleigh,” Willow said. “She should know about or have access to some maps that can help us find the Miracle sooner.”

Logan nodded. “She should actually be at the library working right now. I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

---

“You are all insane,” Everleigh declared blankly.

“We are perfectly sane,” Logan replied.

Remus shrugged. “Well, sane enough...”

“Please Ev,” Willow begged with puppy eyes.

Everleigh squirmed. “Don’t do that face, it makes me agree to anything and you know it.”

“Please~”

“You guys know the Miracle hasn’t been seen in like three thousand years, right? How are you even sure it’s alive?”

“The dream said we needed to find the Miracle, so it must be alive,” Janus stated.

“Come on, Everleigh, this is an important mission. The lives of thousands hang in the balance.” Roman declared.

Everleigh huffed. “Pure pressure and pleading are not going to work, no matter how good you all are at it.”

Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Please. If not for thousands of lives then just for the Queen’s life. She doesn’t deserve the fate she’s facing.”

Everleigh looked at him then glanced at Virgil for a split second before looking at Logan again. “What was she like?”

“Surprisingly held together for someone near their death. She acted quite strong and accepted that this was the end for her, but… her eyes… They were full of mourning. Full of fear. It reminded me of my mom…”

“I’m sorry you had to see her like that,” Virgil said. “My gran and your mom.”

Logan smiled weakly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Everleigh sighed. “Fine. I’ll help you guys. But I’m coming too.”

“It will be dan-”

“Dangerous, I know, but if you don’t let me come along then you’re not going either. Someone needs to keep you all from being completely reckless.”

Logan chuckled. “Fair enough. Welcome to the team, Ev.”

After convincing Everleigh to help them, the team jumped straight into analyzing everything known about the Miracle for clues about it. The main problem was that any primary information was thousands of years old and therefore kept away in the restricted area of the library. This meant that only Everleigh, with her apprenticeship, could read through those articles.

The others didn’t stay idle while she did that though. They took to looking through what was available to the public. By sunset, Virgil was starting to worry about Remy coming to look for them, but that was when Everleigh came through.

“I found something!” She exclaimed. A nearby co-worker shushed her, but she paid them no mind. “Here, check this out.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Volume three of the Quest of Nigel Hawk? What does that have to do with our search?”

“Okay, so I was looking at the primary accounts from people who had met or knew the Miracle. They don’t normally describe it, but those who did, mentioned things like bright silver eyes, dark skin, and feathery wings. It reminded me of one of Nigel’s stories, the one where ze sails to the Misted Isles,” Everleigh explained, opening the book and searching through the pages for whatever she’d found. “Uhhhhh, here! Look at this sketch.”

She turned the book around for everyone to see, and featured on the page was indeed a lovely black and white sketch of a human-like creature. Its skin was shaded dark and its eyes were a light colour that could be silver, and on its back, there were two sets of wings.

Remus tilted his head to the side. “Isn’t that Nitya, the stranger that Nigel met at the harbour?”

“Yes. Nitya and Nigel were both looking to go on an adventure somewhere. Or rather Nigel was looking to go on an adventure and needed a friend for the journey. Nitya happened to be staying at the same inn as zem and the two decided to go together to the Misted Isle. Except, Nitya never returned, Nigel wrote ‘on the day we were meant to sail back to the mainland, Nitya and I were standing together on the beach watching the sunrise. It looked at me and said it would be staying here. It felt that this was the perfect place to spend the rest of its time.’”

“So then, the Miracle aka Nitya is on the Misted Isle. We must go there at once!” Roman enthused.

“How? We can’t make portholes to places we haven’t been, and none of us exactly own a ship.” Janus pointed out.

“Could we make one?” Patton wondered. “I mean, theoretically, by using our magic we could make anything. So, why not a ship to get us to the misted isle?”

Remus lit up. “That’s a perfect idea, Pat! We can’t teleport all the way to the isle, but we could at least get to the harbour. Roman and I were there when we sailed over from Lyrecrest.”

“And using my proficiency in plant magic, I could grow a tree into the perfect shape of a ship,” Roman added.

“Well then, is there anything we need before we go?” Willow asked.

“Food and fresh water, plus maybe a change of clothes, just in case,” Remus listed.

“Alright then, let’s get everything so we can go!”

Following this, the team split up, Everleigh went to her house to get the things, while the others used portholes to grab things from their rooms. While Logan was getting his things together, he felt a sense of unease settle in his gut as he thought about his dad. Sure, Emile had agreed to him going to the fae realm, but going to the Misted Isle was a whole different thing. He decided that he could at least drop by to fill him in, and made a porthole to his room back at the bakery.

Once he stepped through and looked around, he felt a twinge of nostalgia. The room was just the same as he had left it. Still neat and tidy as it had been when he left all those months ago for his first day at the manor. While he knew it hadn’t been all that long ago, he still felt as if it were a distant memory. Gods know he’s made so many more since.

As he was about to open his door, he heard his father speaking, “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Ems, no offence, but I just lost seven kids. Including the freaking crown prince! I can’t calm down.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Remy.”

“But what if they aren’t? What if they run into assassins? Or monsters? Or monster assassins?!”

“Rem-”

“Oh gods! How am I going to explain to Joan that I lost Thomas’s only kid? The heir to the throne!”

“Re-”

“And the other parents. One of them is a freaking dragon! They’ll roast me. Literally!”

“R-”

“What if they end up starving to death? Or getting overly dehydrated? Or poisoned?!”

“Remy!” There was a moment of silence as Emile walked to where Remy was. “I understand. I’m worried about them too. I don’t know what kind of parent wouldn’t be. But you need to calm down dear. Stress isn’t going to help us find them any sooner.”

“...Do you really think they’ll be fine?”

“They do seem to have a… skill for finding trouble. But they always get themselves out of it in the end.”

Remy sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

Quietly, Logan stepped over to his desk and wrote a note for the two adults. Then, he made sure to make a noise that would cause them to come and check the room before he left again through the porthole. He felt guilty for the anxiety he was putting them through, but he hoped that the letter would ease some of their concerns.

---

“You told them where we’re headed?”

“Only that we’ve figured out where and are going to find the Miracle,” Logan replied.

Virgil nodded. He had been feeling a bit guilty about leaving the adults in the dark, so Logan leaving an explanation at the very least eased his conscience. “Well, looks like there’s no turning back now.”

“Technically, we could turn back. The shore isn’t that far away, and with Patton using his water magic proficiency to guide the ship we’re sailing much faster than any normal vessel,” Logan stated.

Virgil smirked. “It’s an expression, L… what do you think the isle will be like?”

“Similar to how Nigel described it. Full of mystery and magical creatures. Maybe we’ll see a unicorn,” Logan mused.

“Would you like to see a unicorn?”

“Perhaps. It would be an interesting encounter.”

“How long have you wanted to see a unicorn?”

“Um, what?”

“I know you like to think of yourself as some emotionless rock, but I can see right through you. You definitely want to see a unicorn for more than because it would be an interesting experience.”

“Seeing a unicorn would be an interesting experience. And perhaps one of the things I’ve always dreamed of doing,” Logan admitted sheepishly. “My mom used to tell me stories about them when I was younger. They were my favourite.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ve never heard you talk much about your mom.”

“Well, I was very young when she passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but I shouldn’t pry.”

“Perhaps… but I don’t mind talking about her with you... I only remember a few things since I was so young. Her stories about magic and adventure. The way she disliked singing but still loved music. Her light laughter and tender voice. How she always comforted me when I felt down.”

“She sounds like she was a wonderful mother.”

Logan smiled softly. “The best… if you don’t mind my asking, what are your parents like?”

“Well, Papa writes a lot of songs in his spare time. Mostly sappy love songs though occasionally he just makes up silly rhymes about any nobles he doesn't like. Dad likes singing too, though he loves acting even more. Whenever he told me stories as a kid he used so many voices and expressions. It was the coolest experience,” Virgil recalled fondly. “...Logan… do you… do you think they’re really gone?”

Logan frowned. “I don’t know. But they must have gone somewhere and wherever that is we’ll find them and bring them back. Until then though, you’re not alone Virgil.”

“...thank you.”

Nothing much else happened that night. The kids slept in shifts aboard the ship as it smoothly glided through the waters in the direction of the misted isle. When the sun rose over the waters to the east, everyone woke up and together ate a small breakfast of their supplies. They didn’t have much to do apart from telling stories or play sitting games as they waited to arrive at their destination. Before noon though, they saw looming on the horizon, an island strangely covered in a mass of fog that made it nearly impossible to actually see the island.

“Here we are, guys. The Misted Isle.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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