#Everyone is waiting to see these ancient and secluded practices!!

[feything-n-frothing]

when it’s the scary bone cultist’s turn to say prayers…!

#the locked tomb #tlt #tumblr quotes posting #Harrowhark #Everyone is waiting to see these ancient and secluded practices!! #surely such a dedicated + talented young necromancer wouldn’t commit grave acts against Jod. ;) #ah yes the tomb. The stone that will never and has never been rolled away… that one

[luminnara]

Flying On Wings Made From Feathers and Wax | Ganondorf x Gerudo OC | Ch 1

Chapter one | Chapter two

Summary:  10,000 years before the events of Breath of the Wild, a little Gerudo vai moves to the desert and makes a new friend in the form of the young Gerudo prince, Ganondorf. The two grow up together, enjoying a worry-free life...but distant memories of a long-dead demon king and a sheikah prophecy nag at everyone's minds, and tensions between the Gerudo and Hylians are on the rise. As the years pass, it becomes clear that this little vai will play an important role in the shaping of Hyrule. Loyalty and love will be tested, empires will rise and fall, and at the center of it all is that mysterious godly power...

Warnings: eventual violence and smut

The sand is hot.

The sun is unforgiving.

The desert is inhospitable, a dry, brutal place that tests and tries its inhabitants, a vast, sprawling land that will viciously take the life of anything unsuited to its harsh days and frigid nights. Few species manage to survive in such a place, a habitat ruled over by stern gods and haunted by restless spirits.

The Gerudo, though, lived proudly in the great desert, amongst the massive skeletons of ancient serpents and hidden by the raging sandstorms that kept much of the rest of the world away. In a land in which only the strongest survive, the Gerudo chose to become stronger, to thrive in a place other races like the Hylians and Rito hardly dared to venture to.

Gerudo women were powerful and proud, building a city and several outlying encampments for themselves. They preferred to remain reclusive, despite their generally peaceful relations with the Hylians and other races occupying the verdant spaces to the north of the desert, and as per a tradition created from centuries of hardships, no men of any race were permitted within the walls of Gerudo Town. 

Save for one.

He was born beneath a harsh, burning sun, on the hottest day in a decade. Though his mother was no chief, the baby was royalty from the moment he drew his first breath and cried his first cry, and news of the new king traveled quickly. Only one male Gerudo was born every hundred years, always becoming king, as was the law, and on the day of his birth, the Gerudo celebrated. The bar was crowded, the people drinking and feasting while the new king was placed in a royal crib, a guard detail standing at the door. The current chief would continue to rule, until the boy came of age, at which time she would be expected to step down and relinquish the throne. There was almost never any resistance or arguing; this was an old Gerudo tradition, and it was always honored. The chief would take care of the tribe, as was expected of her, preparing the desert for the new king it was about to receive. 

The infant was treated as a god. His mother was a warrior, tall and proud, and she claimed that his father was a hylian voe who was large for his kind. That didn’t matter much, though; Gerudo always produced Gerudo, and while a father’s genetics played some small part in determining how a child looked, they would never be anything but Gerudo. 

This new baby, the prince of the Gerudo, was showered in gifts. Before he could stand, he was being dressed in the finest silks and most expensive jewelry, small gold bracelets and anklets adorning his chubby limbs. He was strong, his lungs capable of producing a loud, healthy cry, his small fists already packing quite the punch. The Gerudo saw this as a blessing, and surely, their prince was to grow into a capable king one day. 

They did their best to focus on all of the good signs—that he would become strong, that he would be raised with respect and levelheadedness, that he would become a ruler worthy of the Gerudo throne. Surely, with so much adoration and positivity around him, their future king would stand tall and steady amongst the harsh sandstorms. He would not wither beneath the bright sun, nor would he be burned by the searing hot sands. His mother and the Royal guard would ensure that this rare Gerudo voe would know kindness and love, and they would do their best to always ignore any creeping feelings of dread. 

“A prophecy? Bah!” His mother would say whenever the topic was breached. “There is no reason that it points specifically to this voe. It could refer to the next one. Or it could be complete nonsense, the paranoid ramblings of an old sheikah.”

“But in the ancient past—”

“In the ancient past what?” His mother would snap. “Evil will always exist in this world. There will always be a great demon to defeat, a fiend to cut down. Perhaps the next voe born into this tribe will become a monster...but not mine.”

And she would look down at the tiny face of her son, the baby sleeping peacefully in her arms, swaddled in silks, and she would find no malice there. How could she? He was innocent, an infant who was most concerned with napping until it was time to wake up and cry. There was no malice in this boy, and she would ensure that he grew up surrounded by love. There would be no chance for her son to become the demon king the sheikah spoke of. They were an ancient people, with impressive magic and wise elders...but to the Gerudo, they were just another race who turned a blind eye to the suffering of the desert dwellers. 

The sheikah were no doubt watching for a male Gerudo, waiting for their prophecy from nearly a century earlier to play out, but the Gerudo were determined to hide their king. If the hylian royal family was alerted to the boy’s presence, there was a very strong possibility that they would demand his death--and that would surely spur on yet another war that no one wanted to fight. The Gerudo would defend their king until their dying breaths, loyal to the end, and perhaps to a fault...and they would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Amongst the harsh desert sands, they would do what they did best—remain strong and secluded, putting on a happy face for the rest of the world. Their king was sacred to them, and no one, not even the ancient sheikah, would meddle in their affairs.

On his first birthday, when it was clear that he would survive to see his childhood, the boy was finally given a name. In a great ceremony, the chief and his mother presented the baby to the rest of the tribe, and for the first time, they spoke his name:

Ganondorf.

A strong name for a strong boy, one destined to become a great king. His early years were spent toddling around the palace that would one day become his, occasionally being allowed outside into the blazing sun to see Gerudo Town and the people he would rule. As all children, he was high spirited and rambunctious, and as he grew, so did his energy. It became hard for his mother and the guards to keep him inside the palace, and eventually settled for keeping him within the town’s walls. He needed to remain safe...but they knew that he needed to have fun, too.

“Ganondorf!” His mother yelled one day as he tore down the steps of the palace, “slow down!”

But her words were ignored, the prince determined to have an adventure without his mother or his guards breathing down his neck. The downside to this freedom was that he would be alone; the other Gerudo children were nervous around him, afraid and in awe of the voe that would rule over them one day, and as such...he didn’t really have any friends. It was okay, and he managed on his own, but...he would really like to have just one.

“Mother,” a little red-haired vai groaned, plopping down in the sand. 

“What is it, vehvi?” Her mother asked absentmindedly as she picked up a hydromelon. 

“I’m bored.”

The Gerudo looked down at her daughter with a bemused expression. “Your first day in Gerudo Town, and you’re already bored? I thought you were excited to be moving here finally.”

The little girl sighed dramatically, flopping down onto her back. “I didn’t think it would be so boring!”

The melon vendor snorted in amusement. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Kiluki.”

“What does that mean, Uvira?” The girl’s mother asked in confusion. 

The vendor shrugged. “It’s something the Hylians say.”

“...why do they say it?”

“When they mean to tell someone that their daughter acts the same way her mother does.” Uvira laughed. “But I agree with Ilula...Gerudo Town has plenty to offer. Perhaps she should go see it all.”

The girl sat up straight. “Yes!”

Her mother was less eager. “I don’t know…”

“Mom, come on!” Ilula rolled her eyes. “I’m almost eight. I’m practically a grown up.”

Uvira barked a laugh. “Certainly have the attitude of one!”

Kiluki shot the woman a glare. “Ilula, I just want you to stay safe. This isn’t Castle Town, things here are bigger…”

“And I’m small. I know.” The little Gerudo sighed. “But mom, look at all the guards!”

“No one gets in or out of town without them seeing,” Uvira shrugged. “I doubt even a little vai could go unnoticed.”

“See?”

Kiluki looked down at her runt of a daughter. “Ilula, I just don’t want you running off on your own until you get to know Gerudo Town better. I just want you to stay safe.”

“Well…” Ilula looked around the market square. “Maybe I can find a friend?”

“There are plenty of little vai running around these days,” Uvira agreed. “Let her stretch her legs, Kiluki. This is your home again, and there are so few travelers these days that it’s nearly only Gerudo in town. You know we take care of our own.”

“Well…” Kiluki seemed to be on the verge of giving in, and Ilula stood excitedly. “...alright. But don’t go far, and if you need something, come right back here, or ask a guard to help you, or—“

Ilula was already tearing away, her little bare feet kicking up sand. “Thanks, mom!” 

As Kiluki watched her daughter run away, she felt her chest tighten. “Be careful!”

Uvira chuckled. “I don’t seem to recall you ever being particularly careful, sister. What’s changed?”

“I have something to worry about now,” Kiluki growled. “And she’s...so small…”

“That she is,” Uvira rubbed her chin in thought. “I could have sworn she was a few years younger, what with her height…”

Kiluki sighed. “The Hylian healers assured me that she’s perfectly healthy, but I’ve never seen such a small Gerudo. She’s hit all her milestones...except for the height ones.”

“So she’s a little thing,” Uvira shrugged. “Perhaps she’ll grow late.”

“Or never at all.”

“Would that matter much?”

“The world is a harsh place. I brought her here to be safe, with our people, but I fear now that the desert will be too much…”

“Kiluki, in the few hours you’ve been here, I have not once seen that vehvi show any signs of slowing down.” Uvira laughed. “You worry too much. Take her to one of our healers so they can reassure you.”

Her sister nodded. “I plan to.”

“I’m sure she’ll have no trouble making friends with the others.” Uvira smiled. “You’ll both have a fine life here, now that you’re back home where you belong.”

Kiluki tried to look like she agreed, but she was still worried. “You’re right. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

On the other side of the market, Ilula was approaching a group of children. They were playing a game with a small leather ball, kicking it around to each other, and it wasn’t unlike the sort of games the Hylian children in Castle Town played. 

“Hey!” Ilula called, running towards them. “Can i join?”

The girls all stopped and looked at her. She was unfamiliar, but she was clearly Gerudo, though she was...small.

“This is a game for big kids,” one of the girls said, waving her away. “Go play with someone your own age.”

Ilula stopped just outside their circle. “I am a big kid!”

“Uh, no you’re not,” she scoffed. “How old are you? Five?”

“I’m almost eight!” Ilula stamped her foot in anger. 

The girl paused in surprise. “What? No way. You’re so small!”

Ilula’s cheeks burned with rage. She wasn’t used to other kids commenting on her height; she was bigger than the Hylians her age, and back in Castle Town, they were the little kids compared to her. Here, though, she actually had to look up at the Gerudo kids, and as she did so, she began to frown.

“S-so?” She asked, stammering in her anger.

“So?” The bigger girl laughed. “So you can’t play with us!”

Ilula’s hands balled into fists. “Fine! I didn’t want to anyways!”

The other children all broke into laughter as she spun on her heel, cheeks hot, teeth clenched. She had never been treated like that, and she was experiencing her first real rage. All she wanted was to get as far away from them as possible now, and she made a beeline for the archway leading to a row of homes and bars off to the side of the market. 

As she marched away, determined to ignore their shrill taunts as they called after her, her pace quickened, toes digging into the sand with such fervor that she didn’t notice where she was going. 

“Too small? I’m not too small, I’ll show them too small—hey!” As she grumbled to herself, she suddenly made contact with something sturdy, and next thing she knew, she was landing on her butt. “Watch where you’re going!”

The something she had run into turned and looked down at her. “Oh, sorry!”

Ilula’s eyes widened as she took him in. 

“I thought—I thought there weren’t any boys allowed here!” She blurted out.

The person in front of her was a shirtless boy, a small mane of fiery red hair framing his face. He wore white silk pants held up by a golden belt, matching bands fastened around his upper arms. His skin was tan, his eyes bright amber, a bejeweled circlet resting on his head. He looked regal, as he should...but Ilula didn’t notice that. All she noticed was that he was a boy, and he was in her way.

He laughed and offered his hand to help her up. “I’m allowed to be here.”

She took his offer and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Why?”

“Because I’m the prince,” he smirked, puffing his chest out a little. 

Ilula rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

He visibly deflated, unused to anyone questioning or not believing him. In a town full of Gerudo who worshipped him, nobody ever rolled their eyes like that in his presence. “Huh?”

“If you’re a prince, why are you wandering around out here?” She shook her head. “And there’s never any boy Gerudo. You’re just making things up.”

He blinked at her in disbelief. “But I—I am! I’m gonna be king one day!”

“We don’t have a king, we have a chief!” Ilula laughed, but it wasn’t cruel or mocking; instead, it was genuine, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she looked up at the boy. “Mama told me all about the chief before we came here.”

“You just moved here?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Yep!”

“Where did you live before?”

“Castle Town,” She sighed. “It was nice, I guess. The castle is pretty.”

“Isn’t that where all the Hylians live?” He scoffed. “You shouldn’t be out there. You should be with your people.”

“Duh, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Her voice was full of attitude as she rolled her eyes at him a second time. 

Ganondorf decided that he didn’t hate it. 

“Why’d you live there in the first place?” He folded his arms over his chest. 

“My daddy is a knight.” Ilula played with the hem of her shirt, rocking on her heels. “He works in the castle. But him and Mama had a fight, so she decided to move here.”

The boy made a thoughtful noise and nodded. “Well...I’m glad you’re here.”

“Why?” She tilted her head. 

“Because now I have a friend!” He grinned, grabbing her hands and spinning her around. 

Ilula shrieked with laughter, and he loved how it sounded. 

“We’re friends?” She asked, giggling as she fell still again.

“Yeah! I mean...do you wanna be?”

“Yes!” She looked relieved.

“Whats your name?” He asked. 

“Ilula.” She smiled.

“I’m Ganondorf. Future king of the Gerudo.” His grin widened.

“Yeah, very funny.” She said sarcastically. “You’re weird, but I’m glad I have a friend now. I tried to make friends before, but they just made fun of me…”

The boy frowned. “Who did?”

Ilula shrugged, nodding towards the archway she had come through. “A bunch of girls in the market. They wouldn’t play with me.”

His brow creased angrily. “Why?”

“They said I was too small. They thought I was five! I’m almost eight!”

“I’m already eight,” her new friend smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. They were mean.”

His frown was back. “Did they make fun of you?”

“Yes.” She grumbled, kicking the sand. 

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand again, pulling her towards the market. 

“What are you doing?” She asked, short legs stumbling as she tried to keep up with the tall boy.

“Being a prince,” he growled. 

Ilula scoffed. There he went again, pretending to be royalty. She didn’t have much of a choice than to follow him, though, and she let him drag her back to where the girls were playing.

“Hey!” He snapped, standing in front of them.

They all immediately froze and snapped to attention, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Y-yes?” One of them gulped. 

“Were you being mean to her?” He yanked Ilula forward, holding her up by her wrist as if she weighed nothing at all. She dangled in his grip, toes barely brushing the sand, but she found that she didn’t hate it. 

“N-no, Prince Ganondorf!” The girl who had bullied Ilula said quickly, taking a few steps back towards her friends.

“Then why wouldn’t you let her play with you?” He asked dangerously.

“Because—because she’s too small!” The girl stammered. “Sh-She wouldn’t be able to keep up!”

“Tell her you’re sorry,” he ordered, setting Ilula down.

“But—“

“Say you’re sorry!”

“W-we’re sorry!” She said. “P-please don’t tell my mom, she’ll be so mad at me…y-you can play whenever you want, you can be friends with us, I promise—“

“I don’t want to,” Ilula wrinkled her nose. “I have my own friend now.”

She turned away from them for the second time, spinning on her heel and marching away with her nose in the air. The girls stared after her in horror, looking back at the prince with wide eyes and gaping mouths. How could she turn her back on royalty and just walk away like that? She should be put to death for her rudeness! 

He gave the girls one last glare before turning to join the little foreigner, catching up with her short stride quickly. 

“That was awesome!” She exclaimed when they were out of earshot, stopping and turning to face him. “That was so cool, they were so scared of you! They—wait.” She paused as thoughts flew through her head. “They called you prince. Did you convince them like you tried to convince me? Wow, they’re dumb!”

He just stared at her before throwing his head back and laughing loudly. 

“What?” She asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Wanna go play?”

Ilula grinned and nodded and they were off, running through the market to have fun. 

Ganondorf showed her the aqueducts that carried fresh water throughout the city, laughing as she splashed him. He took her to see the sand seals living in pens just next to the side gate, telling her that soon, he was going to learn how to shield surf with one. After that, they ran up and down the palace steps, seeing how many they could each jump. The guards at the top of the stairs shared a bemused smile behind their veils, eyes crinkling with laughter as they watched their prince play with someone his age finally.

“This place is huge!” Ilula said, sitting down on a step. The sun was low in the sky, some of its heat finally ebbing as the evening air cooled. 

“Yeah, it is,” Ganondorf sat beside her, looking out over his city. “The desert is even bigger. It goes on and on forever.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Ilula sighed. “I can’t wait to see everything.”

“I’ll show you,” he promised. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I know everything about the desert.”

“Then maybe one day I can show you Castle Town!” She said excitedly. “Deal?”

He grinned. “Deal.”

“My prince,” one of the guards from the top of the steps approached them. “It is growing late. Your mother wishes you to accompany her for supper.”

Ilula stared at the tall Gerudo guard. Maybe the whole prince thing wasn’t just a joke amongst children, after all...

Ganondorf sighed. “Can we take Ilula home first?”

The guard looked down at the runt and gave a quick nod. “Who is your mother, vehvi?”

“Kiluki,” She said, her voice suddenly as small as she felt. “She was in the market talking to Aunt Uvira…”

The guard’s gaze softened at the sound of an old friend’s name. “Very well. Let us go find her together.”

Spear in hand, she led the children down the steps. The setting sun was casting long shadows across the square, Gerudo all waving goodbyes as they headed home or to the spa or bar. The market was much less crowded than it had been during the day, shopkeepers drawing down the flaps on their stalls as they closed up for the night. 

“Ilula!” A voice called. 

“Mama!” Ilula ran forward as she spotted her mother still talking to Uvira at her stand. 

Kiluki caught her small daughter in an embrace, smiling as she picked her up and set her in her hip. “I see you’ve come back to me in one piece.”

“Of course,” the guard escorting the children said, coming to stand before Kiluki. “The prince and his friend were only playing on the palace steps today. I did not let them out of my sight.”

Kiluki’s eyes grew wide as Ganondorf stepped up next to the guard. “O-oh, my prince, forgive me—“ 

She tried to bow while holding Ilula, bending at the waist while her daughter clung to her arm for dear life. Ganondorf only laughed, enjoying the sight of such a close bond between the two, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched. 

“Ilula and I are friends now,” he told her. 

Kiluki looked at her daughter in shock. “...you befriended the prince?”

“I didn’t know he was the prince,” Ilula smiled sheepishly. 

“She didn’t believe me when I kept telling her.” Ganondorf piped up.

“...were you rude to the prince?” Her mother asked.

“No!” Ilula protested. “I wasn’t! Besides, he’s not the prince, he’s my friend.”

Kiluki shook her head in disbelief as Uvira laughed behind them. “You never cease to amaze me, vehvi.”

Ilula grinned, then squirmed in her mother’s grip. The moment she was let down, she ran forward to hug Ganondorf, and the boy happily wrapped his arms around her. He picked her up and spun her around, one of his new favorite games, his face alight with laughter as the two quickly began making plans to play in the morning.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her,” Kiluki said to the guard as she watched her daughter and the prince. 

“Of course,” the guard dipped her head in a nod. “At the prince’s side is the safest place she could ever be.”

Kiluki nodded in agreement. She couldn’t believe how well everything had worked out. With a guard detail always keeping an eye on Ganondorf, Ilula would no doubt always be under their watch as well. Her daughter gained a friend, and Kiluki gained some peace of mind. 

“Come, my prince,” the guard said after a few more minutes. “We must let Ilula and Kiluki get home, and we must not keep your mother waiting.”

Ganondorf sighed and gave Ilula one last smile before joining the guard. Ilula waved after him as he walked towards the palace, her mother taking her hand to lead her to Uvira. 

“Well, how about that?” Ilula’s aunt chuckled. “Making friends on your very first day here!”

Ilula giggled. “He’s not just my friend. He’s the prince.”

#ganondorf #ganon #botw #botw x reader #rehydrated ganondorf #gerudo #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf x oc #ganon x reader #ganon x oc #gerudo ganondorf #gerudo oc #flying on wings made from feathers and wax

[limitlessgojo]

The More You Know

Warnings: NSFW Content

NSFW Tags: SMUT, Mutual masturbation, Squirting, over-sensitivity, Sex Education, unprotected sex, Bareback, dry humping, First time with Noritoshi, explicit content

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Smut, Fluff, Fem!Reader

NSFW Taglist: @fkngkumiko @gojoussunglasses @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: I tagged this to the best of my ability. As I've already said, minors please DNI with my NSFW works.

Previous Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Next Chapter: Big White Lies

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate.

Chapter 13.5

Utahime Sensei called both you and Noritoshi into her office one afternoon to give you "the talk." She’s aware that both of you are dating.

You and Noritoshi worriedly looked at each other before sitting down, across from her desk.

“There’s no need to be worried. You both haven’t done anything wrong. I just wanted to check up on the two of you.” She clarified. You both relaxed.

“Y/N, how are you adjusting to life on campus so far?”

“Ah, yes I’ve been adjusting well, thanks to everyone who has been helping me here and there. I’ve also grown used to the campus.”

“That’s great to hear. Looks like all of you first years are now settled in. Which brings me to my next question,” She started getting serious. "So, of course I know that both of you are dating. Teachers hear things from other students, it’s natural. Did you both get your parents’ permission to date each other?”

“Ah, yes, my mom and dad both know and said it’s okay for me to date senpai. They’ve been wanting to meet him as well. Next time when we are on break.” You said meekly.

Noritoshi quickly turned to you, eyes widening. Ah, you haven’t told him yet that they wanted to meet him. “They said it’s no big rush. We can do it over Christmas break.” Your voice quieted down.

“My parents have also approved of our relationship, as you know.” He put a hand to your back and spoke comfortingly. As always, your body relaxes under his warm touch. Hearing that made the knot in your chest slightly loosen up.

Utahime looked pleased at that. “That’s excellent to hear. Everything seems to be in order. And, have you both… you know… done "it" yet?"

Your eyes widened, then you flushed red before shaking your head. Noritoshi replied with a soft "No, we haven't." Face just as red as yours, before he forced it down.

The room suddenly felt stuffy and hot. Was this conversation really necessary?

“Ahem,” Utahime cleared her throat. “This is a very important conversation, and I want to make sure that both of you are engaging in consensual and safe sexual practices if you ever decide to do it. I’m aware that both of you are already of legal consenting ages here. That and it’s not uncommon for teenagers in Japan to do such.”

Gosh, just let this pass already, you thought to yourself, utterly mortified.

“So now I’ll talk you through the use of contraceptives and birth control then.” It was a mini sex education class with just the 3 of you.

And the rest of the afternoon was filled with a lot of do’s and don’ts and the explanation of how to use condoms. Noritoshi’s soul was practically leaving his body at the very thought.

“Don’t be shy to ask me for help in buying condoms or birth control pills. I’d rather both of you have safe sexual practices than not.” She ordered sternly.

You both quickly nodded, “Yes sensei.”

“Okay, that should be all. Then off you go.” She ushered you both out of her office, ready to prepare for another faculty meeting later.

After you both left the room, you slowly walked back to your dorm with Noritoshi close behind you. An unspoken agreement hung in the air as you filed into your dorm room.

He doesn’t come over to yours as often as you go over to his room, but he likes it. You’re happy that he doesn’t mind the numerous stuffed toys or fluffy blankets on your bed.

You served him some tea and mochi, not having spoken a word still. He stayed silent as well.

“....” your face was still red. Noritoshi found it almost funny and incredible, how it stayed red for such a long time. He reached out to cup your face.

You leaned into his touch. His hands were slightly cold, taking away some of the heat off your face.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to. For us I mean. Like what we just talked about now. I’m okay if you’re okay with it. Completely.” He stumbled over his words.

You nodded and reached out for a hug, which he gladly gave. Sitting on his lap, cradled in his arms. “I… I’m okay with it. The sex talk was just really embarrassing, but inevitable.”

You shyly looked up at him. He gave a weak smile in return, trying to slow down the blood rising to his face. His ears were still pink though.

"When we are both ready then." He hastily uttered before changing the topic. You giggled. He was more reserved than you expected.

◇◇◇

A week later...

You’ve both taken to reading Kamo no Hotaru’s diary entries together when you were both alone and undisturbed. One evening, during a rare moment of peace when both of you had no schedules, you stayed in Noritoshi’s room, laying on his bed. “Toshi! That entry! It matches our first shared vision together!”

“Right. I noticed that when I browsed over it too. He really…” Noritoshi trails off. You perk up and cuddle into his side, facing back to the diary, “What is it?”

He abruptly closes the book shut, face really red. It was a good thing this was a copy of the original, because of the way he roughly handled it.

Why. “Toshi!!! Lemme see~” you whined, grabbing the book. He couldn’t look you in the eye as he handed you the book. You eagerly flipped through to where you stopped.

Hotaru was describing his fight with his beloved Misaki. “She must have been the woman in my visions then huh.”

Noritoshi buried his face into the junction of your shoulder and neck. You stared at him. His face and ears were on fire. “Toshi, are you not feeling well? Fever?” You pressed a palm onto his forehead. He shook his head and snuggled into your hand. The blush settled down rather quickly.

This guy never fails to cheat with his body temperature huh.

Anyways, going back to the passage.

“Misaki was lovely tonight. She astounds me every single time she fights with those demons and curses. Just the most beautiful sight to behold.”

“Awww, what a dreamy man” you sighed. Noritoshi’s grip on you tightened.

“Tonight was the first night in my life that I was able to hold her so close to me. We went back to the inn and had our baths before going to bed. We only had one futon, since the inn was in some far off and secluded area. It was also full, so we had no choice. We ought to be getting back to the urbanised districts soon. Her hair smelled nice. I can’t forget how her cheeks turned dark red when I undressed her. Her soft mounds under my hands. -

You shut the book, closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out hard against the inside of your cheek. Total silence filled the room for like 5 minutes before you opened it and continued reading,

“I’ve never felt anything softer than Misaki. Every curve of hers was to my liking. Every sound she made was comparable to the voice of an angel’s. She tasted so sweet down below. I never thought I’d be one to have premarital sexual relations, but to hell with it all.”

Noritoshi peeked over your shoulder, arms still wound tightly around you with one eye open, reading the passage together with you.

“I will try to remember in vivid detail how exactly I’ve taken her. It was a rush of the moment sort of thing. She was such a shy thing, covering her eyes as I undressed in front of her.

Only to cry for me to fill her up moments later. I took my time with her, tasting and feeling every bit of her body. Not long after, I made love to her. Her insides were warm and molded perfectly to me.

We both felt like we were melting into each other. Our Crimson bindings out and about, floating around our bodies as we indulged each other in pleasure.

It was worth leaving everything behind, in order to experience this life with her. We had to take great care so as for Misaki to not bear a child as we are still in the midst of fighting battles with demons here and there."

“Damn that guy was desperate for some action.” You said out loud. Noritoshi choked hard on his spit at this. You didn’t even take your eyes off the ancient erotica you were reading as you reached out with one hand to pat Nori on the back.

“Not like they had condoms or contraceptives back then huh. How difficult.” You wondered. “Y/N I-” Noritoshi sputtered. You turned to him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You what…” your eyes trailed down at the movement. All of the sudden there was a pillow on his lap. He turned away, forcing his hard-on to disappear.

Noritoshi was just a very sweet little thing. He was really taken aback with your lack of fluster at the moment.

Whenever he whispers into your ears and holds your hand you blush. He secretly loved nipping at you and playing with your fingers to make your face glow red.

Even when Utahime sensei gave both of you the talk, you looked mortified. But since that day, you seemed to have gained a layer of quiet confidence.

And here you were reading an old smutty diary entry with a straight face.

An unpleasant thought came to his mind as he blurted out, "Have you had any experience at all? With this…. These things?"

Your eyes widened, before you shook your head. "Mmm to be honest none at all. You're pretty much my first everything Toshi. First boyfriend. First kiss. First love. You know."

Noritoshi relaxed. "Me too, you're my first for everything." You smiled at him, moving to hug him before he grabbed your hand to stop you from going further. His other one tightened on the pillow on top of his crotch.

Ah.

You wanted to help him but… Is it too early for the both of you? You wanted to wait for Noritoshi to bring it up. Unfortunately, he doesn't make any moves.

He is still very much a gentleman, politely turning away and closing his eyes whenever you get dressed or undressed in the ensuite bathroom. And really, it did touch your heart at the fact that he was really so sweet with you.

“Toshi, do you want any help with that?” You set the diary down on the side table. He flinched before slowly turning to you.

“Do you not find it disgusting?” He asked weakly.

“Mmmm, not really." You crawled into his lap, your face now slightly pink. You wanted this. You wanted to see more of him, know more about his body underneath the wide and loose fitting clothes.

“If you don’t want me to, that's also okay. Like you said, we have time. This isn’t something to be rushed Toshi."

He looked up at you. Deep down he really wanted this. But he wasn't prepared for it to go this fast. He didn't buy any condoms, lube, or contraceptives for you at all. He still had yet to research on more safe sex practices.

He shook his head. "I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you. We only talked about this the other day, I hope it's not too fast for you."

"I'm okay as well, no it's not too fast."

"As long as we are both fine with it, then it's okay."

"So… what do you want me to do?"

He turned bright red, not bothering to use his jujutsu to force it away. He wanted his body to be honest with you. "We don't have to go all the way now. Please touch me down... there. I'm clean. Just took a shower before you came in."

You nodded, tossing away the pillow on his lap as you undressed him. There were so many layers of clothing. Your mouth watered in anticipation upon seeing the outline of his erection clearly straining against his clothes.

And the one thing you've been looking forward to seeing. He parted his inner white yukata, revealing his abs and pecs. Holy shit. He is built and defined. With a solid 8 pack of abs, arms with biceps and triceps.

You gulped. Noritoshi stared at your reaction. "You like my body."

"Ah I do. Noritoshi, you're really pretty." You admitted.

Noritoshi shut his eyes and felt the last of his sanity fizzling out. Why aren't you close to him then?

"You took the words out of my mouth, pretty one." He pulled you to his chest, nipping at your ears and neck. He knew all your sensitive spots, easily making your body react to him.

"Toshiii, haa no it tickles" Shaking in his arms, you pressed against him, running your hands down his front.

"Looks like I really don't need to hold back with you." He growled, gripping you tighter.

You hooked your fingers on the waistband of his pants and pulled it down, revealing his length. It sprung up, pretty and already hard.

It was big, long, thick, with veins protruding, and the mushroom-like head was a blushing pink. You stared numbly, wondering how it would ever fit inside of you.

You cautiously fisted him. It was so hot and heavy, twitching in your hands. You pooled spit in your mouth before letting it drip onto the tip of his length, making him glide easier in your hands.

Noritoshi threw his head back at the action, breathing heavily. Small jolts of electricity ran through his body, upon feeling your lips on his chest and neck.

"Angel, it feels much better when you do it. I wanna make you feel good too, please." His voice is deeper than normal, sending shivers down your spine.

He didn't hesitate as he pulled off your top as you nodded. You felt self conscious, covering up your breasts. "No need to hide from me. You're a gorgeous sight for sore eyes." Noritoshi pushed away your arms and sucked on your tits, making you gasp out.

"Toshi."

"Mmmm." He swirled his tongue around your nipples, playfully tugging and sucking on them like they were candy. Your pants and underwear were quickly discarded, leaving you bare.

Cold air hit your entrance, making you tense up. Noritoshi's hands stroked your legs until they settled on your ankles.

"Spread your legs for me," he murmured. You couldn't say no to that. You slowly widened them, inch by inch, the bed creaking underneath you.

He stared at your wet opening, parting your lower lips. It was glistening with slick. He dragged two fingers over them. Sinking in his fingers and groaning at the sensation of your walls. It was hotter and wetter than he expected it to be.

"Here I was, trying to stop myself from losing control over you, only to find out you've wanted me too." He scoffed. You grew more and more aroused at hearing his voice become deeper, just slowly nodding in agreement, unable to speak. The only sounds coming from your mouth were moans and whimpers of his name.

Squelching noises filled the quiet room as he began to experiment with your body. Nothing escaped Noritoshi. He stared at you, watching and analysing your reactions with every curve, push, pull, and movement from his fingers.

Not long after, he found your sweet spot, pressing his fingers eagerly into it. You shivered.

He leaned over to kiss you while slowly fucking you with his fingers. The pressure on your insides made you feel floaty. You reached out to continue stroking him as well, making him tense against you until you slumped against him, head feeling way too hot and dizzy.

He huffed a laugh, “Too much for you angel? It feels good doesn’t it?” You whined at him with a pout, guiding yourself up and down on his fingers. Your voice grew louder when he pulled them out.

"Shh, give me a second." Noritoshi repositioned both of you, so that you were sitting on his lap. Putting some pillows behind him as he leaned against the headboard of the bed.

It was a slightly risky position, he could easily enter you from this angle so you had to push your back against his chest, comforted by his warmth.

"Let me play with you." Who was this man and where was your stoic Toshi? Noritoshi kissed everywhere he could reach, the side of your face, your shoulder, cheeks and neck.

"Come on, rub yourself against me." You felt him smile against your skin.

You took his length and grinded your pussy down on him, slathering your juices onto him. Tears streamed down your face. "Why does it feel so good? Ssss too much."

His hands were cupping and squeezing your breasts, holding you firm against his chest. You could feel the sweat gathering on your back.

Both of your Phoenix marks were glowing a bright red, illuminating both of your features. You reached to clasp his wrist, feeling the warmth seep out from his mark.

Heat. That was the main shared sensation between the two of you. Simply and drunkenly chasing after pleasure. The soulmate bond showed you his inner desires of breeding you, filling you up, pleasing you, and making you content. You felt touched and giddy.

Noritoshi's head is hooked over your shoulder. Mouth watering at the sight of him thrusting against your thighs. The tip of his cock poked up and down between your legs. Your ass was pressing hard against his hips, driving him insane.

You both grinded against each other at a moderate pace. Hiccups and mewls escaped your lips as you drooled.

You tightened your thighs when he sped up his thrusts. Your pussy feels hotter with each passing moment. He was humping you so hard, you started to lightly bounce on his lap.

All you could feel and smell was Noritoshi. The scent of sex was heavy in the air. You've never felt this type of greed over a person before. It scared you a bit.

"Darling, come on me." Noritoshi breathed out huskily against your ear. You shivered, squeezing and crossing your thighs. He softly grunted as he came all over your legs, the cum still hot.

Amazed, Noritoshi watched as you also squirted, spraying all over both of your legs and the mattress. He leaned over to rub your clit more, feeling it spew against his fingers as he put a heavy pressure on it. “Haaah! Toshi, no stop!! It feels so good!” You threw your head back wildly, feeling your legs spasm beyond your control at the touch of oversensitivity.

"Is that a no or a yes?" He nipped your earlobe as he continued rubbing your clit.

"More. Gimme more." You moaned.

He smirked, immediately plunging two fingers into you, pistoning it in and out as fast as he could, while his thumb continuously stroked at your clit. He held you tight as you sobbed his name unabashedly.

A second orgasm violently washed over you, making you shake. He helped you ride it out, by slowing down his movements until you collapsed against him.

It was hard not to fall asleep as you both stopped to catch a breath, but you had to clean up. “Sorry for making a mess.” You turned to face him and frowned upon feeling the stickiness on both of your legs.

His eyes glinted darkly, “No, don’t apologize. We both made a mess. I quite like it.” You hid your smile in his neck at that.

"We can take a quick shower then go to bed if you'd like?" Noritoshi offered.

"Mmm… sounds good."

The shower was quick and pleasant. It was nice to smell like Noritoshi. You happily hummed to yourself as you lathered your arms with his body soap. It smells nice and deep with touches of bergamot and clove.

On the other hand, Noritoshi was having an internal crisis. He just wanted to stuff you full of his cum right there as he helped you bathe, but was determined to wait until you got married to do so.

You went to bed in one of his kimonos after changing his sheets. Noritoshi loves how you look in his clothes and how you smell like him now.

"Thank you…" You whispered.

Noritoshi's body was so warm as he pulled you to him, his lips pressed against your temple. "Mmm, thank you also for trusting me with your body. I feel so relaxed, should we do this more often?"

You squawked in surprise, pushing his chest and laughing with him. "Nori's not so pure minded after all. Here I thought you were super conservative."

"Never said I was, angel."

◇◇◇

The next day, you were both mortified when Todo came up to tell you to keep it down next time. His room is next to Noritoshi's.

The both of you didn't realize he was home when that went down. “I'm soundproofing my room after this.” Noritoshi exasperatedly sighed at you.

"Ahh, maybe I should do the same with mine," You fiddled with your shirt. He smiled, leaning down to see you eye to eye, "You're looking forward to doing it with me again, I presume?"

If he wasn't so handsome right there, with his eyes bright and filled with so much joy, you're sure you would have smacked him in the chest.

".... No comment."

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

Author's notes: Had to check the legal age in Japan for consent to sexual activities and the laws are SO MESSY. Long story short, the official age of consent is 13. Based on prefecture, for 16-18 years old, it is legal if they have consent to date from their parents. Basically, they’re trying to prevent relationships with huge age gaps for teens (with over 20 year olds) who might be taken advantage of. Toshi and Y/n’s bdays have passed already, so they’re 17 and 16 here.

Of course note that this is all fiction anyways.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fanfic #noritoshi smut #kamo noritoshi x reader #kamo noritoshi #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x oc #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #noritoshi fluff #kamo x reader #kamo x you #kamo x y/n #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi x you #jjk noritoshi #blood bound #red strings of fate #kamo smut

[allteacher]

also on ao3

Eris has been in the Tower for barely three weeks when she gets the message.

It should come as more of a surprise, but Eris has known since she crawled gasping out of the Moon’s tunnels that she would not have peace for long, even in the Tower. Even after she’d been discovered and inspected and questioned, spoken softly to and coddled and ensconced gently in her own private quarters— quarters in the civilian wing, far away from her old rooms.

“All your things are still in storage,” Ikora had told her that first day, watching Eris look around her new bedroom, empty save the large windows looking down on the memorial gardens. The view is of the Firebreak section; Eris had refused anything where she could see the names of the people she’d known, where the City planners had just yesterday taken down the stone inscribed with her own name.

She still hasn’t retrieved any of her things, the ragged cloaks or the blankets or the chipped mugs she’d stolen from the Hunter’s Lounge. She thinks about going into that dark room filled with the markers of her past life, sometimes. Sometimes she thinks she will open the heavy metal door and her old self will be standing there, surrounded by the past. Sometimes this is a dream; more often it is a nightmare.

Every few days, Eris sneaks into the supply closet at the end of the hallway and takes one of the chain locks from its carefully-labeled container. She installs them carefully, tests her weight against the door to see if it gives: fragile charms against some future ruin. She knows anything she is truly afraid of could not be stopped by something so mortal, but the action gives her hands something to do; material action, however useless, in service of her own protection.

(She’d done the same on the Moon, before they’d ventured down into the pit: the six of them, holed up in some small lunar colony outbuilding, she and Vell nailing sheets of spinmetal to the doors to keep out wandering Hive in the night. The chalk of bone dust in her throat as Toland had hung Hive-charms over each threshold, humming to himself.

Sai had looked at him, grin questioning. “Are those going to blow us up?”

Eris knows now they would’ve done much worse.)

She hauls herself to her feet, examines her handiwork. If Ikora saw her, she’d call Eris obsessive. Eris knows she is; she wants something new to obsess over. Wants to think of nothing but Crota, to dream of nothing else until his great luminescent corpse is rotting in his Throne. This is why, when her comm chimes with the one-two tone of a summons, she turns toward it with an eager expectation. Maybe Ikora has convinced the Vanguard to listen to her, finally.

The message is from a channel she’s never seen, not before she entered the Hellmouth or since. There’s no text, just a string of coordinates and, at the bottom, a series of pictographs. They’re not Hive runes, have none of the sinuous incomprehensibility.

Eris, the habit worn into her, has her suspicions. But she speaks of them to no one, has the feeling she’s guessed the importance of the secret she’s been entrusted with.

The message has no date attached, so she waits a few more days before acting. She spends that time in a stupor, drifting around her little room, sometimes venturing to the library or to the secluded back hallways of the Hidden to ask for information. She still keeps to the shadows, because no one in the City or the Tower has grown used to her presence yet. Idly, she considers the idea that she is making her problem worse, only alienating herself further by refusing to come fully into the light, to let herself be seen. In these in-between days, she cannot bring herself to care.

She considers leaving without telling anyone. She does not think she will be gone long, and she does not need permission to leave the City. But she considers what the Vanguard, already suspicious of her, would think, what conclusions they would draw. What Ikora would think if Eris disappeared into the night, like she’d done with Eriana so many years ago.

Finally, she sneaks into Ikora’s office.

Eris wastes no time on formalities once she sees Ikora's figure behind her desk, piled high with reports. "I am leaving the City for the afternoon," she says. It is not a lie, because she is loathe to hide anything but what she must from the one person who has tried to welcome her back into the City, who still sees her as an equal. "I am not going off-world. I should be back before tomorrow." The words feel stiff in her mouth even as she says them, but she is still relearning conversations not conducted in whispers or screams.

Ikora does not beam at her, does not over-indulge her, but Eris can still feel the warmth of her Light radiating outward. “Alright," she says, "Radio if you need any assistance. And let me know if you see anything unusual. I’ve been receiving strange reports, lately.”

Eris hopes that isn’t a warning. She inclines her head, leaves without a word.

She departs immediately, before her paranoia can get the better of her. She flies over the Cosmodrome for half an hour before inputting the coordinates she’d long since memorized— some Hidden practicality had made her delete the message almost as soon as she’d read it. She comes to the location soon enough, a little clearing tucked into some foothills. Still on Earth, which she privately considers a blessing. She does not know if she would have been able to leave it, yet, not when her wounds are still so raw.

Eris parks her little ship in the shadow of a few trees. She feels secure having it a physical presence near her, a concrete mode of retreat. It’s more than she’d ever had in the tunnels.

She picks her way across a stream, climbs to the top of a small hill that rises over the clearing. She sees the figure immediately, cutting a striking figure against the weak afternoon light. Even from here, he hurts her eyes to look at. She grimaces, continues down towards him.

As she grows closer, the figure grows more obvious: Osiris. She’d had her suspicions, driven by what she’d remembered of his writings before his exile, Toland’s ravings. Even the message had a certain Warlock quality to it, a mystery, a challenge. She and Eriana had crafted just such a message with their own hands once, join us in our quest…

Osiris looks as she remembers him, though she’d only ever seen him from a distance. Eriana had disliked him, had hated his presence as Warlock Vanguard. Despised his position because of the power it gave him over the Praxic Fire, who stood in clear opposition to everything he'd gradually become.

(“I don’t see why he’s so desperate to understand them. I’m tired of trying to simply understand,” Eriana had groaned once, servos whirring, bent over some ancient tome. “I do not need to know the Hive to raze them to ashes. I only need to know what they have taken from us.”)

Forgive me, Eris thinks. She will not get her vengeance without fully comprehending everything the Hive are, without learning the weft and weave of their existence so that she can unravel it.

She blinks and she is standing before him. “Osiris,” she says. Maybe it is her memories of Eriana but she feels like a newly-Risen, again, standing before him. He is a figure cut neatly from her past and transplanted into the present, unchanging, looking down at her.

“Eris Morn,” he says, and Eris does not startle but she is, for some reason, surprised that he knows just who she is. She knows that it is her own tortuous journey that has made him seek her out, that it is her pain that has made her valuable. Some part of her rails against it, even as she is desperate to turn her nightmares into something usable, to prove to herself that their deaths were not meaningless, that they have done something other than feed the Hive’s ever-eager desire for suffering.

Osiris is looking at her strangely. Eris tries to stare back, but her eyes skitter sideways off of him, the afterimage of his silhouette burning in her eyes. She must make another face, because Osiris’ Ghost slides close to him, spinning intently, and the aura of his Light fades to a shimmer over his skin.

“I know you have information regarding the Hive,” he tells her. “The City ignores your warnings.”

“As they ignored yours.” It is not meant as a challenge, but everything she says sounds bitter, now.

Most of his face is covered, but the tilt of his head changes. “Yes. But we both know what is coming. The question is how to stop it.”

Eris has never been good at these Warlock-games, at talking in circles, hinting closer and closer to what lies plain before them both. “I think I know how to kill Crota,” she says, because she needs to get to the heart of the thing that has been eating her alive. She needs to tell someone who will understand.

And she thinks Osiris will understand, because he has not been through the Hellmouth but he does understand what it is like to exist utterly alone with the enemy, to be shaped by your experience of something completely alien. To be so utterly changed that everyone around you can only think you mad.

“Tell me, then,” he says, and so she does.

#destiny the game #eris morn #osiris #my fic #sometimes you have to get a fic out of your brain in order to get to the actual fic you want to write #aka 'this is the prequel to that eris&osiris fic i was talking about last month' #(they'll actually interact in that one i promise)

[genesisrose74]

Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

#genesisrose 1k event #milestone event #matchup event #aesthetic matchup #senku x reader #c!sapnap x reader #dr stone matchups #dsmp matchup

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (4)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / PREV / NEXT

Doctor Wada makes an unscheduled appearance the same morning. Kakashi has the doctor’s schedule memorised and knows the man usually spends his first work hour in his office before checking in with various patients. The change is not unexpected.

“Ms Iori finished her rounds, marked everything as normal and handed the ward off without incident.” Wada and one of the floor’s morning shift nurses talk, voices lowered, too quiet for a regular person to pick up.

“It was called in around 4:15 am. We confirmed it as a burst blood vessel behind his quirked-eye, but we don’t know what triggered it. Without examining the eye itself it is hard to draw any definite conclusions. Since we don’t know what his quirk does, we didn’t want to risk staff safety without a specialist on hand.”

“Nothing else? No other symptoms?” Wada asks.

“No external bleeding. No signs of irritation around the eye socket. Clear, coherent verbal responses from the patient. Vitals are stable.  The dressings on the eye were changed yesterday, and nothing was flagged then either.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Depressed at the thought of what amounted to a forced long-term infiltration mission, Kakashi’s attention drifts away from the hushed conversation. Kakashi has never been assigned to any extended infiltrations. Long, tedious things that they were. Jōnin were usually too valuable to waste on them. Even before he had made jōnin, his skillset lent itself to tracking, assassination, ambush and one on one combat not undercover assignments. It was just his luck -or maybe it was karma-that he had been shunted into one. Three years of ‘mingling’ amongst these soft-acting civilians, waiting to build enough chakra for an attempt at a technique he wasn’t even sure would work. It was enough to make even the most battle-hardened shinobi depressed. 

Maybe he should run off and hide somewhere. He would skulk around for three years avoiding the locals. Less of a hassle that way. Kakashi lets out a weary breath.

“See if you can bump up that MRI. We need to make sure this isn’t anything serious,” Wada’s voice breaks through his musing as the doctor starts in the direction of Kakashi’s bed. The nurse he is talking with nods and leaves.

“Well, you have certainly had an eventful night,” Wada greats when he draws near, leaning in to visually scan Kakashi, “Let’s see what we have going on. Can you close your left eye for me so I can unwrap it?”

 He habitually pushes down his natural discomfort at having a stranger close to his sharingan as the doctor reaches to tilt Kakashi’s head to the side for better access. If he was going to be stuck here then he should maintain his complacent, harmless persona. At least, until he leaves the hospital. Besides, if they had wanted to hurt him, they would have done it while he was unconscious.

“No swelling around your quirked-eye and the bleeding has stopped, that’s a good sign. We’ll run a few tests and get to bottom of this, not to worry.”

“Yeah. About that,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head to look sheepish and apologetic, “I might have tested out my, eh, quirk. You know…I wanted to see what it would do…”

There is a beat of silence, the older man drawing away, too surprised to respond.

“I think it lets me memorise things it sees?” Kakashi continues. Even if he wasn’t 100% sure about what he would do next, he is not about to abandon his shaky amnesia cover story.

“Of all the reckless, irresponsible decisions!” the doctor snaps out of his surprise moving straight into anger, “I expressly told you to wait and not to mess with it. You had no idea what sort of quirk it was! What if you had injured someone or yourself.” The concern seems pretty genuine and Kakashi almost feels bad for manipulating him.

“Young people these days…honestly. No patience.”

Young? It had been a while since anyone has called him that. Kakashi is practically ancient by shinobi standards. The response prompts a semi mournful, almost amused sigh from him, “I know, I know. I just wanted some sort of clue as to how I got here.”

The doctor takes a frustrated breath, calming “Yes. I know it’s frustrating, being restless and hold up in this bed for three straight weeks, but there is a procedure to these things. You got lucky that the only side effect was a burst blood vessel. Next time you want to test your quirk we’ll make sure it is in a controlled environment with an expert on hand. I don’t care if you have some sort of passive regeneration, quirks can be dangerous. The hospital has offsite testing facilities for a reason.”

“Yes. I understand. I won’t do it again,” he says dutifully and gets a huff of disbelief and a head shake.

“You better not.”

A pause.

“So.”

“So?” Kakashi raises a brow.

“So what did you discover? Explain it to me again.” Wada motions, impatient, repositioning a nearby chair so he can sit comfortably beside the bed.  

“It lets me remember things…” Kakashi had given a lot of thought to what he wanted his fake ‘quirk’ to do without giving too much away, “I’m pretty sure I remember anything it looks at perfectly.”

A somewhat true explanation, in that recoding information and prefect recall was one facet of the sharingan; a side effect of its primary function which was to copy ninjustu and taijustu. The explanation also played into the diagnosis Wada had already written into his medical files, making it more believable.

“Then, lucky for you, something good came of your reckless behaviour.”

Kakashi just smiles which elicits the beginnings of another lecture. “Not that you should ever take quirk safety lightly. Quirk licenses exist for a reason. People can’t go about throwing their quirks around willynilly. A licence, I might add, that you don’t have.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

After witnessing several televised reports on police arresting people for quirk misuse Kakashi knows the people here, for whatever reason, are leery when it comes to using their abilities. To the point where they actively outlaw it. He is banking on Wada being sympathetic enough not to push the matter.  

Wada sighs again, “I’ll write it up as accidental use this time. Now. If your quirk lets you remember everything perfectly then what about your past memories. Any change on that front?”

“No. Still gone.”

“I see. That might mean the part of the brain linked to its memorisation function was damaged, disrupting the memories stored by the quirk,” Wada rubs his chin thoughtfully, “We’ll have to run a few more tests…a lot easier now that we know what it does I suppose.” Good. That was the conclusion he wanted Wada to come to.

“Alright, before we get to testing, were there any other side effects. Aches, pains, fatigue?”

Even as the man asks, he is pulling out a familiar penlight to shine in Kakashi’s regular eye.

“No. Nothing.”

What follows is his standard check-up routine. His vitals are recorded, his head checked over, the area around his sharingan examined thoroughly. Again. Well, as thoroughly as it could be examined without uncovering it. Next is an inspection of the chest wound he now knows is from Obito alongside a glance over his shoulder, arm and leg. Wada nods to himself as he goes, signalling that all is well.

“Your blood pressure is a little high for my liking. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep much last night what with how you were messing around with your quirk. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Wada instructs as he fits Kakashi with a padded eyepatch instead of the usual wrap of bandages. He pauses to wait for a nod of confirmation.

“I will,” he blatantly lies. Kakashi hasn’t had a proper night sleep since waking up the first time, dozing for shortened intervals only. With so many squishy doctors around he doesn’t want to accidently hurt one of them should he be woken from a nightmare. It did put additional strain on his body.

Doctor Wada peers at him, “We’ll give you another week of monitoring then get some authorised quirk testing done. A brain scan as well. Depending on what we find, we’ll see what we can do about getting you a diagnosis and then discharged.”

“Hmm,” he answers, noncommittally. Not like he has anywhere else to go until then. If this were Konoha, he would have taken off long before now and seen to his remaining injuries alone. This would be the first time in a long while that he is waiting for an official discharge. 

Guess he would be finding out how the hospital dealt with amnesiac patients after they healed. In Konoha, a displaced citizen would be given a menial labour job as part of the village’s many reconstruction projects and sent on their way. But this wasn’t Konoha and he should really stop with the comparisons.  

He needs to decide what he wants to do: Take off, find somewhere secluded and wait the years out. Or hang around to try and salvage the situation. This world did have a lot of interesting technology so there might be value in getting a better feel for the society here. Maybe he would find something useful to take back as an apology for abandoning everyone…

What a mess this all was.

...

...

...

The following week has Kakashi splitting his time between gathering supplies for a chakra storage seal and reading through Wada’s patient files to get a sense for his upcoming quirk tests and ‘brain-scan.’

He also takes the time to read through everything else Wada has in his office - mainly medical journals - to better understand the biological differences inherent in a place without chakra. Primarily, the people were physically weaker. However, there were a lot of mutations or ‘secondary quirk factors’ which reinforced the body to better deal with the stress of the primary quirk. All interesting and potentially relevant information to remember when he got into fights. Once he knew a person’s quirk he would be able to guess how their body was reinforced and act accordingly. A fire quirk would make someone naturally heat resistant but not impact resistant, is what Kakashi concludes as he re-reads the profile of current number two hero ‘Endeavour.’ The magazines gifted to him by Iori all contain a statistical breakdown of the top 10 heroes, their strengths, weaknesses, and their criminal apprehension and crime prevention rates. It is a list that rarely changes between issues. He commits it all to memory, idly planning out combat strategies that didn’t involve obvious ninjutsu or chakra use. It helps pass the time when he is not trying to make sense of what he sees on television or stalking various people around the hospital. 

At the end of the week, he steals Wada’s fountain pen, adding it to his growing pen hoard which he stashes in a vent on the roof. The storage seal he wants to make is complex and would need ink to complete.  A mix between a chakra-draining-seal-trap and a storage scroll, it is well on its way to completion. 

The seal would drain his chakra at a consistent and manageable rate, store it efficiently,  and give him a way to turn the chakra drain off and on at will. Also, as a precaution, he includes an emergency stop in case his chakra levels became dangerously low, so it didn’t accidentally kill him if he fell unconscious.

The seal would need to be positioned somewhere on his body in a spot where the doctors wouldn’t immediately notice. He doesn’t what to explain why he suddenly has a tattoo.  If he had had access to properly made fūinjutsu ink, the seal would be invisible. Alas, he would have to make do with chakra-infused pen ink.

Kakashi manages to keep himself busy enough that he expertly avoids making any concrete decision on what he wants to do with the next three years.

.

Note: this is slowly turning into a medical drama

NEXT

#bnha #naruto #CrossOver #my hero academia #hatake kakashi #kakashi headcanons #dimension travel AU #fanfiction #world building #culture shock

[bookstantrash]

A/N: This is an idea that has been living inside my mind for a really long time and I finally gathered courage to write it. But I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so every time I read and edited it I always found more and more faults in what I had written, so I said “To hell with this, I’m gonna post it before I delete the whole thing”

This ended up being way longer than what I had imagined and I have no idea how I feel about it. So buckle up folks, because this is going to be a ride.

In which she makes a friend

After almost three months living in Illyria, Nesta could not recall a single conversation that had lasted for more than three minutes or that had been longer than two sentences. Not that she cared much in holding meaningless conversations about the weather and whatnot with the few Illyrians bold enough to talk to her. Because few were those that tried to talk to her, those that were not scared of her, whose voices did not whisper Other or Witch whenever she bothered to leave the house she now lived in.

So when Nesta sat on the lonely stone bench in front the house – the weather had given a break and gone from “insufferable bone cold” to “tolerable chilly” – to try and calm the raging fire in her veins, a sign that her power was trying to break free, a sign that she was close to breaking and destroying everything around her, she was very much surprised to find an Illyrian child walking towards her.

It was not unusual to have a few Illyrians knocking on the door sometimes, given that she now lived with him due to her sister’s order long ago in Velaris. But since her babysitter had gone to Cauldron knows where, to do Cauldron knows what a week ago, no one had come knocking on the door asking for that overgrown bat. Adding the fact that his house was a little secluded from the rest, Nesta could not imagine why that child was coming over.

“Good...good evening” the Illyrian greeted, stopping in front of her.

“He’s not here” Nesta said, eyeing the child in front of her. The boy – Nesta supposed it was a boy, not older than thirteen, with its short cut curly brown hair, bandaged hands, muddied clothes and scar free wings being the only clue she had – shifted nervously on his feet.

“I...I’m not looking for the General” the boy said “I heard there was a Witch living here. I take you are her”

For the second time of that day Nesta found herself surprised. The boy in front of her had called her a Witch in her face, something most did not.

“I wanted to ask for a spell” the boy’s voice had lost a bit of it’s previous nervousness, and he had squared his shoulders, wings slightly flaring “I don’t have much, but I’m ready to give anything in return”

‘You can’t possible have anything to give me’ Nesta thought, glancing at his ripped and dirty clothes.

“I’m no Witch” Nesta said, getting up and turning her back at the kid, making for the house’s door “Go back to your parents”

~•~

The next day, when Nesta was coming back from a walk in the woods – there was something about the ancient trees and the wilderness that helped her control her inner turmoil — she was baffled to see yesterday’s boy waiting for her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” the boy blurted out before she could send him away “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m Kaelin”

Nesta’s only answer was a blink.

“I...I only said you were a Witch because that’s what the others said you were” Kaelin’s ears turned pink, no doubt embarrassed to admit listening to gossip.

“I don’t blame you” she said, and Kaelin’s eyes lit in surprise.

No. Nesta did not blame the boy for thinking her a Witch. Because long ago, before the war, before the empt void inside her was as big as the ocean, before she heard her father’s neck crack, she had declared to that annoying camp lord Devlon that she indeed was a Witch. But now, even though her powers were as loud as a beast’s roar in her ears, she did not want to touch them. Could not touch them.

And nothing, not even the hopeful look in Kaelin’s light brown eyes, would make her touch the wild beast that lived within her. She would not give the boy false hope. She would not fail another child. Not again. Not ever.

“If you have problems maybe you’d better tell your parents about it, instead of reaching for witchcraft”

After all, even thirteen year old Illyrians must have foolish mistakes that they would rather not tell their parents about.

“I don’t have parents. At least not anymore” Kaelin’s hard and sorrowful voice was enough to make Nesta resist prying further into his problem.

“I see” was the only thing she said, and she once again turned her back at him, entering that lonely and sad cabin, even though she was feeling rather inclined to talk, a feeling she had not felt for the longest time.

~•~

Kaelin appeared on Nesta’s door three days later, with a black eye, bruised cheek and a split lip that didn’t stop him from smiling and giving her something wrapped in brown paper.

“I thought about it and I realised that my apology was lacking” he started talking non stop, not giving Nesta a chance to say anything except gape at him and the gift on her hands “Father always said to treat everyone nicely, unless they were rude to you. He said it was what mother believed in”

Nesta could only nod and unwrap the paper to discover a pair of gloves.

“Did you steal them?” She asked, connecting the dots between the gloves she held — surely way out of the kid’s status of affordable — and his beaten face.

“No!” Kaelin replied, a bitterness in his voice “I know I’m just a lowly orphan but I’d never take something from another one in such an unhonoured way”

Nesta just grossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

“One of the boys from the high families arrived at training with new boots” he gave a sly smile “I fought him for them”

“You did what?” Nesta’s voice rose and she was holding herself back from shaking the boy until he was back into his right mind.

“Fighting between Illyrians is not prohibited. But it’s best if you don’t get caught” Kaelin replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Nesta felt her temper rising.

“You. Come with me” she grabbed Kaelin’s arm and took him inside before he could protest.

She made him sit on sofa in the living room while she went searching for the medic supplies she was sure Cassian had. Once she found it, she went back to Kaelin and started treating his cuts, mumbling the entire time about how stupid and reckless boys were.

“This is nice” he said, wincing slight when Nesta touched his bruised cheek.

“What is nice?”

“Having someone take care of you” he answered “I... I didn’t know my mom. She died shortly after I was born. Father said she was quite fragile”

Nesta trying to not let show how his words affected her. She remembered another woman, dying in a lonely bed just a few years after her youngest child had been born.

“He died in the last war. Against Hybern” he practically spat the late king’s name, hate filling every syllable.

Nesta finished treating him and started organising the materials, to keep herself busy and have an excuse to buy time to know what to answer him. She had never been good at consoling others. And she didn’t know why, but she was afraid her bluntness would end up hurting Kaelin.

“He was a hero” he said firmly, his eyes shining with defiance “He may have been just a mere foot soldier but he was at the front line, keeping Hybern’s forces back”

“I’m sure he was” Nesta replied, trying not to think about who may have said otherwise to him, hurting a child who had nothing “But would he like to see his son picking meaningless fights?”

“It was to get you a gift” Kaelin looked down and poked at the sofa “I’m sure he’d have understood. Besides, I have to fight and stand out if I want to have a shot at the Rite”

“You mean the Blood Rite? I thought everyone participated” Nesta had gathered little information about the Illyrians for the time she had been living in Illyria. There were no libraries, no bookstores, and the books Cassian had about the Illyrian culture and history were scarce and outdated.

“The very one. You are not obligated to become a warrior, but that’s the path most of male Illyrians take. Not that we have many options to begin with” Kaelin’s voice had became serious “Most of the males from the richer families are bound to participate, but the rest.... we end up being mere foot soldiers. Expendable. So no point in making us take part in it.”

At his words, Nesta could not help but think about Cassian. He too was an orphan but had risen to be Rhysand’s Commander and had seven siphons. From what she had heard and seen at the war, that was rather unusual.

“It’s worse for females” Kaelin added quietly.

She knew that. Saw how females were treated on the rare times she got out of the cabin. A scarce number trained. And she did not know a lot about training, but was sure it was not near enough to make them part of the Illyrian army. Or even defend themselves were the worst to happen.

Nesta opened her mouth to say Cauldron knows what — she had to say something, she could not let the boy leave with such dark thoughts — when a loud noise interrupted her.

It was a sound Nesta knew quite well from her time as a human living in a shabby cottage.

A sound she had become reacquainted with after being Made. After that day at the battle field.

The sound of hungriness. The sound of someone who was starving, and had been so for quite a while.

And it was coming from Kaelin.

The Illyrian boy beside her blushed a deep scarlet, trying — and failing — to come up with an excuse. But Nesta knew better. She knew the signs of starvation. Saw them in herself. Had seen it in her younger sisters, when they were not older than Kaelin.

Thin wrists. Sunken eyes. Cheekbones way too sharp. Up close Nesta could properly examine Kaelin and notice that the boy was all bones and little muscle, his skinny built not a consequence of slow metabolism to gain weight, but rather the fact that he did not have enough sustenance to make it possible.

“I have way too much food stocked here. I was supposed to be living with an adult warrior that can eat for five people “ Nesta began, cutting Kaelin’s blabbering “It would be a crime to let it all get wasted”

Leaving him no window to reply, she took hold of his arm, hauling him towards the kitchen and making him to sit down while she gathered whatever food she came across. And she had enough fire in her eyes — she may or may not have lost a little bit of control of her powers due to her racing emotions — that Kaelin did not dare say a word, but just sit quietly and eat what was put in front of him.

~•~

Nesta’s routine had suffered a slight change after that evening. For the past month and a half, Kaelin had been having a meal with her after his training. Every day.

She had made sure to make it clear that she was expecting a visit from him after his activities were over.

He did not dare argue with her.

Today, however, was an unusual day.

Kaelin was late.

Almost two hours late.

Nesta had come to know Illyrian boy better, and one thing she learned about him was that he detested to be late. For him, his promises and commitment were everything, reminding her of another Illyrian she knew – which had not come back in two months. Not that she missed or was worried about him.

She tried and failed to convince herself that Kaelin may have been held back by training. But she did not know why she felt a strange feeling. Her powers were restless, more so than usual.

The air and the trees around her seemed different.

She felt it deeply in her bones.

As if the Cauldron itself — hidden far far away in a island that did not exist in any map ever written — dreaded whatever future thread the Mother was knitting.

As if something had been woken.

As if the winds of change had gone from a light breeze to a tornado, ready to wreak havoc in Illyria.

Nesta could not hold herself back any longer. She needed to know what was happening. To know if that strange song that spoke of a power strong and ancient was connected to Kaelin tardiness.

So into the woods she went.

She walked and walked, until the song in her ears got louder and a new sound appeared, a sound she would not be able to hear were it not for her fae ears.

The sound of someone whimpering.

Quickening her steps, Nesta followed the cries of pain until the wall of trees around her gave way to a small clearing.

And there, lying curled up in a ball, was Kaelin.

“KAELIN!”

Nesta ran towards him, falling on her knees beside his body.

“What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” she smelled blood, and feared the Illyrian whose boots he had “won” had gone after him for payback.

Her mind was racing, her thoughts overlapping themselves. She recalled another winged body, laying on the ground. She recalled another child, crying in pain due to its empty stomach, who had not seen food for weeks.

She would not fail anyone ever again. That had been her promise to herself.

“Kaelin...” Nesta slowly touched his arm, trying to soothe him “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts”

Kaelin whimpered, slowly uncurling his body and tucking his wings. He clutched his abdomen, and Nesta dared to try and touch her power.

She would touch that dangerous beast if that meant she could help the young boy in front of her.

And so she tentatively reached inside herself for that source, trying to recall if any training she’d had with Amren may assist her in the current situation.

She scanned Kaelin’s body, and that’s when she noticed the small drops of blood beneath him. But her powers had not detected any wounds. No, he was not hurt.

However, she finally found the origin of the bleeding. And Nesta momentarily lost her breath.

Because she knew the reason why Kaelin was in pain.

“You are not a boy” she breathed.

Kaelin was a girl.

A girl who had had her first period.

A girl who was passing as a boy. Training like one.

And when Kaelin finally meet Nesta’s eyes, brown eyes shining with tears, she cursed the Mother for whatever future thread she had knitted.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth

#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #nesta archeron

[mdzsgildedfate]

Gilded Fate - Chapter 10

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 10/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, Xue Yang/OC

The hike back was considerably more difficult than the hike to the pond. Not only was the way back uphill, but by now Xinyi’s fever had worsened. By the time they’d made it halfway, Chen was walking with one arm around Xinyi’s waist to support his weight. Despite the reversed incline, the Lan Jiaoshou seemed to be leading them along at a faster pace, only adding to Xinyi’s diminishing energy. When they stopped for their second break, QianHua made his way to the head of the group where Sizhui and Jingyi were resting.

“Jiaoshou? Is there a reason we’re walking so fast?”

“We stayed at the pond a little longer than we meant to.” Sizhui explained in a gentle tone. “We’re just trying to get back before it gets too late.”

QianHua looked up at the sky. “We’ve still got plenty of time before the sun sets, though…”

“We have other things planned for the day.” Jingyi spoke up. “You’re still young, how can you be tired already?”

“It’s Xinyi. He’s sick and struggling to keep up with how fast we’re walking.” QianHua explained, tossing a glance back to his friends.

“Sick?” Sizhui asked, looking surprised. “He looked fine when we left.”

“Well it’s worse now.” QianHua frowned, beginning to feel irritated with the two. “Go see for yourself!”

Sizhui nodded and followed him back to where Chen and Xinyi were sitting. Just as QianHua said, Xinyi was looking significantly worse. His skin was pale and glistening with sweat despite how long they’d already been resting for. Kneeling down in front of him, Sizhui put his hands to Xinyi’s cheeks, feeling the heat rolling off him in waves.

“Mm… Your hands are cold.” Xinyi said, leaning into the touch.

Sizhui frowned, his brows upturned with concern. “We’ll slow down and take more breaks.”

Xinyi shook his head immediately. “Don’t slow down. It’ll take longer.”

“You’ll get worse if you exert yourself too much.” Sizhui stood and looked at Chen now. “Do you all still have water?”

Chen shook his head and Sizhui unclipped the water bottle from his waistband, pushing it into Xinyi’s hands.

“Keep him hydrated and let me know if he gets worse.”

They nodded and, with one last concerned look at Xinyi, Sizhui returned to the front of the group to rejoin Jingyi. The break lasted longer than the previous ones had and, when they did start moving again, their pace had definitely slowed. Xinyi regained the ability to walk without Chen’s support and the rest of the hike back seemed to pass faster now that he wasn’t struggling to breath with every step. Once they reached the gates, the three split off to return to their room.

Xinyi stripped out of his sweat-soaked robes and crawled onto his bed. Chen opened the window and hung their robes out to dry before sitting down beside Xinyi. Using the rest of the water from Sizhui’s bottle, Chen wet one of his clean shirts and began wiping the sweat from Xinyi’s face and chest. QianHua collected their empty water bottles and left the room to refill them.

“How do you feel?” Chen asked, discarding the shirt to lay beside Xinyi.

“Better… Just really tired.” Xinyi replied, reaching out to hold Chen’s hand.

Chen smiled and laced their fingers together. “Take it easy today, ok? Don’t go running off with mysterious priests.”

“Ha, right. Don’t worry, I think I’m pretty done with that.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

Xinyi looked down at their hands, recalling the words last exchanged with Xingchen. “No reason in particular I guess. He’s just kinda weird.”

Chen chuckled. “A Taoist priest who’s been living in an ancient temple in the middle of the mountains with only another Taoist priest for company turned out to be weird? I never would have guessed.”

“You sound jealous.” Xinyi laughed.

“Jealous? Who’s jealous?”

“Really? You weren’t jealous when I said I slept in Xingchen’s room?” Xinyi asked, propping himself up to look down at Chen. “Or when I came back wearing his clothes?”

The man looked away with a frown, his cheeks turning red.

“Or what about today? When I said my hair ornament was from Xingchen?” He leaned in, his nose brushing against Chen’s cheek lightly.

Chen turned his head back to face Xinyi, his eyes trailing around the details of his face. Snaking an arm around Xinyi’s shoulders, he pulled the man into a kiss. Xinyi breathed into the kiss, putting his hand flat against Chen’s chest.

“See?” Chen broke the kiss, smirking at Xinyi. “Why should I be jealous?”

Before Xinyi could answer with much more than a laugh, they heard the door sliding open and broke apart before QianHua could see them. Sitting down together, they slowly drained their water bottles again before pulling their robes back on to rejoin the rest of the class outside. After resting and rehydrating, the colour had returned to Xinyi’s face and he seemed just as energetic as ever.

~X~

Around three in the afternoon, the students began returning to the courtyard from their rest. With Song Lan still missing, their plans for the evening would also require adjusting. Originally, he and Xiao Xingchen were supposed to demonstrate their sword skills, but with one of the hosts missing, someone else would have to step in. The two Lans stood off to the corner of the courtyard with Xiao Xingchen, still waiting anxiously for the other priest to reappear.

Just as they were starting to talk amongst themselves about who would take Song Lan’s place, the man finally appeared at the front gates. Nothing about him looked any different, not giving any indication as to where he’d disappeared to for most of the day. Although Xiao Xingchen’s face barely changed, Sizhui and Jingyi could tell he was annoyed with him. And they could hardly blame him.

After worrying them all for the better half of a day, Song Lan approached them as though he’d only excused himself for a few minutes. Sizhui and Jingyi waited patiently for him to reach them, but before they had a chance to speak, Jin Ling appeared and spoke for them.

“Where have you been?!” He demanded, looking the priest over for any indication that the necromancer had gotten to him.

“I apologize. I left for a secluded meditation.” Song Lan replied, offering a small bow. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

Jin Ling huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “You should have told us you were leaving!”

Song Lan frowned slightly, looking to each of the other men before replying. “Did something happen?”

“I found something in the forest.” Jin Ling lowered his voice. “A cave full of corpses. Someone’s been practicing demonic cultivation nearby.”

“I… don’t see how that’s possible.” Song Lan furrowed his brow. “Xiao Xingchen and I would have noticed something like that immediately.”

“The cave opening was covered in camouflaging talismans.” Jin Ling explained before fishing the nail out of his sleeve. “And the corpses had these in their skulls. The sigil engraved in the head might have been obscuring the yin energy from you.”

Song Lan went tense at the sight of the nail, hesitating for a few seconds before slowly reaching a hand out to take the nail. He looked it over, unable to hide the pain and anger bubbling in his heart. After inspecting the sigil, he shook his head and gave it back to Jin Ling.

“This is Xue Yang’s work.”

“I thought so at first too.” Jin Ling replied as he put the nail back.

“It’s not possible though.” Sizhui continued. “Xinyi still hasn’t awakened, and even if he did recently-”

“He wouldn’t have a strong enough golden core to do something like this.” Jingyi finished.

They had solid points that Song Lan couldn’t deny, but the increase of Yin energy gave away that he didn’t entirely believe it.

“I found the cave yesterday. When I went back today, it was empty.” Jin Ling continued. “Whoever this is, they’re moving fast. You and Xiao Xingchen are at risk, we need to figure out who’s behind this before…”

“Before they use us as a weapons.” Song Lan finished Jin Ling’s thought, giving Xingchen a worried look. “Do you have any other leads? Any guess as to who they are or what they might do next?”

Jin Ling’s shoulders slumped. “No… The cave was the only thing I found and there’s nothing left in it. I doubt the necromancer will make another appearance there.”

“Is it possible there’s another reincarnated cultivator here? Besides Xue Yang?” Song Lan asked, looking back at the clusters of students dotting the courtyard.

“It’s impossible to know. Unless you recognize the soul personally, the only way to tell is if their spiritual energy has begun to destabilize as they awaken.” Sizhui explained with a frown.

“We’ll go out night-hunting after the students go to bed then.” Song Lan said decidedly. “Until then, we should proceed as normal. If the students suspect something is wrong, it’ll only make it harder to investigate.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and went ahead with their original plans for the sword fight. Trying to quell the worries in his mind, Song Lan drew the students’ attention to him and directed them to stand along the outer edge of the courtyard. Xiao Xingchen followed behind and they quickly took up position opposite each other in the middle of the yard. Song Lan explained the different styles of sword fighting and which ones he and Xingchen specialized in. As he finished speaking, they both drew their swords and let their blades slide together before taking two long strides away from the other.

Their movements started out slow, demonstrating basic moves at a speed the students could follow. Spinning around the courtyard, their movements complimented each other in a graceful dance, the billowing robes bleeding together into Yin and Yang. Their movements gradually increased in speed and complexity, filling the valley with the metallic trill of ShuangHua and FuXue clashing together. When the demonstration finished, the two broke apart and bowed to each other, and then to the students.

Everyone burst into applause, cheering excitedly at the impressive performance. When they quieted down, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen slowed down some of the more complex moves as the former explained the techniques. Even with the reduced speed, the two looked otherworldly together. When they finished, they bowed again and sheathed their swords. Xingchen stepped away from the stage and returned to his seat with Jin Ling and the two Lans.

Song Lan turned to one of the tables that had been moved to the foot of the stairs where a few simple-looking swords were waiting. He picked one up and addressed the students again, glancing quickly around at his audience.

“Does anyone want to try?” He asked, a faint smile on his face.

Hands shot into the air and Song Lan slowed his eyes to look over each of the volunteers. His eyes fell on Xinyi, looking directly at him for the first time since returning, now noticing the ornament fixed to his hair. Song Lan paused, his body going rigid. The tiny detail had transformed the boy into a haunting reminder of the most devastating events of Song Lan’s life. It sent a shiver of anger and disgust through his body.

The resentful energy within him surged again and pushed his body into motion before realizing what he was doing. Song Lan crossed the yard and stopped in front of Xinyi, staring down at him for a moment before holding the sword up for him.

“Wang Xinyi?” He raised his eyebrows slightly.

Xinyi’s gaze flickered between Song Lan’s face and the sword in front of him. He still felt feverish, but the nap had revitalized him enough to consider the challenge. Even so, something didn’t feel right. Casting a wary glance to where Xiao Xingchen was sitting, he could see the man shaking his head at him. Their tiff from earlier replayed in his mind and he promptly decided to ignore Xingchen’s warning. Xinyi looked back at Song Lan and smiled, taking the sword from him.

“Sure.”

Song Lan spun around and led him to the middle of the yard. Xingchen was on his feet now, looking at Song Lan with an annoyed expression. With his sword in both hands, the priest tapped the nail of his index finger against the sheath loudly enough for them to hear. Song Lan ignored him, but the sound was stirring up Xinyi’s anxiety, making him wonder if he should back out.

Before he had a chance to reconsider, Song Lan drew his sword and pointed it’s tip at Xinyi. With shaky hands, he pulled his own sword out of its sheath and mirrored the movement. Looking up at the priest, he could see that two black, vein-like lines had appeared on the side of Song Lan’s neck. Momentarily distracted by them, Xinyi almost missed Song Lan’s first attack. It was slow enough to block, and there was plenty of room between Song Lan’s blade and Xinyi’s body, there was an intensity behind the move.

Steeling himself, Xinyi tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and focused his attention on Song Lan. The man drew his sword back and struck again with a downward slash. Instinctively, Xinyi brought his blade up to block it, the two blades bouncing off each other with a piercing ring. The more Song Lan swung out attacks, the more Xinyi became aware of how naturally he responded- and the more he became aware of the growing sincerity behind the attacks.

Their moves rolled out, one after another, each one striking out with increased speed and strength. Xiao Xingchen and Sizhui crept into Xinyi’s peripheral, their hands on the hilts of their swords as though they were genuinely worried Song Lan and Xinyi would hurt each other. It seemed unnecessary, until Xinyi’s blade shot past Song Lan’s and brushed across the man’s cheek, leaving a thin, red line behind on his skin. Xinyi drew back slightly, coming back to his senses.

The black veins on Song Lan’s neck crept onto his face and, in Xinyi’s moment of hesitation, he swung his sword at him with a heightened ferocity. A sudden, sharp pain shot through Xinyi’s left hand, causing him to drop his sword with a loud clatter and buckle onto his knees. Xiao Xingchen flew in front of him, blocking whatever attack Song Lan was already executing. Sizhui came running to his side, Chen and QianHua appearing seconds later. The two priests exchanged four or five more blows before silence finally fell over the courtyard.

Sizhui untied the sash around his waist, bundled it up, and pressed it against Xinyi’s hand. “A-Yi, I need bandages! Chen, go get water!”

“Everyone go back inside! Now!” Jin Ling’s voice roared out as he quickly herded the other students towards the stairs.

Isn’t this a bit of an overreaction for a little cut?

Xinyi looked up at Sizhui, feeling the world spin around him as he moved his head.

Oh, fuck...

Looking forward again, he noticed the long splatter of blood on the ground in front of him. The sight of a severed chunk of flesh in the middle of the blood flipped Xinyi’s stomach over, immediately putting him on his side to vomit on to the stonework. The corners of his vision darkened and before he knew it Jingyi and Chen had returned with the supplies.

Sizhui took the bloodied sash away and poured water over Xinyi’s hand, revealing that Song Lan’s blade had cut clean through his little finger and part of the way through his ring finger. After clean bandages were expertly wrapped around the wound, Xiao Xingchen put his arms under Xinyi’s knees and around his shoulders and lifted him up. He carried the man up the stairs into the temple, followed by a parade of the two Lans, Jin Ling, Chen, and QianHua. Song Lan had already disappeared from sight, along with the rest of the class.

~X~

The Lans took up the lead once they were inside and guided the parade back to their own room where Xingchen laid Xinyi down onto the bed. His skin had gone pale again and sweat was beaded across his face, the fever having suddenly returned full force. Looking the man over, Sizhui instantly sensed the turbulence of Xinyi’s spiritual energy. Holding two fingers over his body, Sizhui followed along the spiritual pathways, studying the eb and flow of energy. After a moment, he pulled his hand away and looked over at Jingyi.

“This… Doesn’t make sense…”

“What doesn’t? What’s wrong?” Chen asked, standing over them anxiously.

“Go back to your rooms.” Jin Ling cut in, stepping towards them. “We can take care of this.”

“But-!”

Jin Ling and Jingyi grabbed the boys by their shoulders and rushed them out of the room, forcing them out before they could say anything else. Slamming the door shut, Jin Ling spun back around to look at Sizhui with an urgent expression.

“What’s wrong?”

Sizhui hesitated for a moment and looked back down to Xinyi. The man’s eyes were hooded, going in and out of focus as his head lulled around aimlessly. He let out quiet, pained moans, squirming on the bed with his injured hand cupped to his chest.

“I don’t know how, but he’s already been sealed..” He said finally, furrowing his brow. “More than once. By the looks of it… someone has sealed his energy at least a dozen times.”

“What? How is that possible? Who could have-?” Jin Ling gaped at them, words failing him.

“I don’t know!” Sizhui said back, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. “Sealing someone expends an enormous amount of your own spiritual energy, only someone with a high cultivation level could have done this.”

“Is that why he’s been having nightmares for so long without awakening?” Jingyi asked, looking a little horrified.

“Yes. His energy has been trying to release for a long time, but these blocks are keeping that from happening.” Sizhui put his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes wearily. “It can’t wait any longer. I have to remove them.”

“Remove them? Isn’t it better for him not to awaken?” Jin Ling asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“No. This will kill him. It’s already done a lot of damage to his pathways, he won’t last much longer like this.” Sizhui stood and walked over to his guqin. “I won’t condemn him to die over a fear that he might become violent.”

Everyone in the room exchanged anxious looks. After an idle moment, Jin Ling and Jingyi nodded at each other. Jin Ling took out his rope and the two of them set to work tying Xinyi to the bed. Once they were confident he was secure, they stepped away and looked to Sizhui. He took a deep breath and set his fingers to the strings, slowly plucking out a qi-filled melody. As the song worked its way through Xinyi’s body, he began struggling against the restraints and letting out pained cries.

Xingchen knelt by the bed and put a hand on Xinyi’s shoulder, looking down at him nervously. The man’s eyes opened wide, staring straight up at the ceiling. The energy in the room increased and swirled together, creating a thick atmosphere. Everyone’s muscles tensed as Sizhui played on and Xinyi struggled more and more, his bandages soaked in blood again from squirming against the ropes holding him down.

When the last note was strummed out from the guqin, the energy in the air popped and crackled like fireworks had been set off. Xinyi stilled and fell back against the bed, his only movement being the heavy rise and fall of his chest. Xingchen looked to Sizhui nervously, who stood rigidly over his instrument with apprehension. No one said a word or moved a muscle for a long time, holding their breath for Xinyi’s reaction. When none came, Sizhui finally forced himself to approach the bed.

“Xi-Xinyi?” Sizhui asked hesitantly, the hair on the back of his neck standing up when Xinyi met his eyes.

“...Can you untie me now?” He asked quietly.

“Are you…?”

“Please. My hand hurts.”

Sizhui looked down at the bloody mess, feeling his heart lurch at the state it was in. He motioned to Xingchen, who immediately gripped the hilt of his sword and stood back, and moved to begin untying Xinyi. He removed the knots holding down the injured hand and carefully unwrapped it, discarding the soiled bandages to begin cleaning the wound again.

“Jiaoshou…”

Sizhui looked up at Xinyi, surprised to hear him still addressing him by that title.

“Will you take me home?”

He couldn’t make sense of it. Xinyi’s blocks were removed and his energy released, there was no mistaking that he had awakened, but he spoke like nothing had changed. Speechless, Sizhui simply nodded and focused on redressing Xinyi’s hand. Tentatively, Jingyi stepped forward to finish untying him. As the binds fell away, Jin Ling tightened his grasp on the hilt of his sword, preparing himself just in case Xinyi’s calm demeanour was a facade.

Once he was freed, Xinyi slowly sat up and wiped the sweat off his face, pausing to look at his mutilated hand. He stared at it for a long time, occasionally flexing the remaining fingers, before putting his legs over the side of the bed to stand. His body shook and swayed unsteadily as soon as he was on his feet, looking like he might collapse at any moment.

Xingchen stepped towards him and put a hand on Xinyi’s shoulder to steady him. “Xinyi…?”

He met the priest’s gaze, staring back silently. Seeming to consider the man’s presence for a moment, he slapped Xingchen’s hand away and weaved his way to the door. He pulled it open and started to step out into the hall, pausing for a moment before turning back around to look at Sizhui with tired eyes.

“I’m gonna go pack my things.” He said, the calm in his voice sending ice through everyone’s veins. “Can we leave soon?”

“O-oh. Of course.” Sizhui stuttered out, still a little shaken.

Xinyi nodded and disappeared down the hall, leaving the four men gaping after him. Slowly coming back to themselves, they faced each other with dumbfounded expressions.

“Sizhui… What do we do?” Jin Ling asked finally.

Sizhui shook his head slightly, as though shaking himself out of a daze. “Tell everyone to pack. We’ll take everyone home today.”

“Is that safe?” Jin Ling looked at him, wide-eyed.

He shook his head again, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I’m just as unsure as you are. But we can’t stay after everyone saw what happened in the courtyard.”

~X~

“A-Xin, what happened? What did they do to you?” Chen asked as soon as Xinyi appeared at the door.

“I’m fine. They didn’t do anything to me.” Xinyi replied, kneeling down to start packing his things away into his bag. “They cleaned up my hand and asked what happened with me and Song Lan.”

“What did happen?” QianHua asked, sitting down in front of Xinyi.

“Nothing. It was just an accident.”

“That didn’t look like an accident.” Chen said, sounding a little irritated.

Xinyi paused his packing and looked up at Chen, smiling reassuringly at him. “We got too caught up and I got distracted. It was just an accident.”

“Hey, I know you were too busy bleeding on the ground to see it,” QianHua had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “But Song Lan didn’t stop when he cut you, Xiao Xingchen had to take over the fight. It looked like he was really trying to kill you.”

Laughing lightheartedly, Xinyi went back to packing. “Maybe he did. It doesn’t matter now.”

Chen grabbed Xinyi’s shoulder and pulled him back, looking at him with dismay. “How can you just brush this off and- and-... what are you even doing, cleaning the room? You almost lost your hand- For fuck’s sake, Xinyi-”

Xinyi touched his uninjured hand to Chen’s face, gently stroking his thumb over his cheek. “I’m not cleaning, I’m packing. We’re going home. Can you please go pack, too, and give me some space to process what just happened?”

Chen blinked a few times, feeling guilty, and put his hand to Xinyi’s, holding it in place against his face. After a few seconds he let go, nodding his head as he turned to start packing his own things. QianHua silently did the same and, before long, the borrowed room was cleared of all the clothes, books, and other various belongings that had spent the past five days strewn across the floor. They pulled their backpacks on and opened the door to return to the courtyard, only to find Xiao Xingchen on the other side, his hand frozen in the air mid-knock.

“Don’t bother apologizing for Song Lan. I’m not going to try to get revenge.” Xinyi said quickly, pushing past Xingchen.

“That’s not why I came.”

He paused, turning around to look at him. After a moment of consideration, he gestured to Chen and QianHua to go on without him. They hesitated, giving Xingchen suspicious looks, before giving in to Xinyi’s directions and went on down the hall ahead of him. Once they were gone, a small smile cracked across Xinyi’s face.

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Xinyi asked, a hint of his old wild look gleaming in his eyes. “Playing with me when I didn’t know who you were… It must have been nice, having our roles reversed like that.”

Xingchen frowned. “I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”

“Weren’t you?!” He shot back, laughing. “I’m actually impressed! I never thought you’d become cruel enough to watch someone suffer like that.”

“Xinyi, I-”

“Oh, drop that bullshit.” He crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. “The cat’s out of the bag, you can call me Xue Yang again.”

Xingchen looked down, furrowing his brow. “ Xue Yang. I wasn’t getting joy out of seeing you in pain like that, I wasn’t trying to make things harder on you. I’m not…”

“Me?” Xue Yang asked, laughing lightheartedly. “That’s what you were going to say, right? You’re not me? I agree with that, actually. What you did was very different from what I did. I actually tried to keep my identity a secret. You dangled it in front of me. Like a cat toy.”

Xingchen lifted his gaze incredulously. “You kept your identity a secret so you could trick me into killing people! How can you possibly compare the two?!”

“True, I did do that.” He replied, smiling innocently. “You know, Xiao Xingchen, I think you’ve lost your mind a little bit after all these years. You remember what I did, but weren’t you kissing me just this morning?”

Xue Yang paused, touching his fingers to his lips, looking away as though recalling the memory fondly. When he turned his gaze back to Xingchen, he drew his tongue over his bottom lip slowly before breaking out into laughter again.

“You seemed so desperate for it.” He continued, taking a step towards Xingchen, looking at the man’s lips while he talked. “Did you miss my taste that much?”

Xingchen shoved him back abruptly, tears stinging in his eyes. “If I missed you, it’s just another monument to your cruelty. You didn’t have to lure me into a relationship if your goal was to watch me kill innocent people. Why did you have to pretend to love me?”

“Pretend?” Xue Yang’s expression fell, watching Xingchen with careful eyes.

Tears spilled out over Xingchen’s cheeks, ruining his perfect skin with red blotches. “In Yi City… Why did you pretend to be in a relationship with me? What was the point?”

Xue Yang’s eyes glared holes through the man. “How many years have passed since then?”

“8,000. Give or take.” He replied after a pause.

“8,000 years…” Xue Yang considered the information carefully. “8,000 years have passed, you’ve had all the time to think about what happened, and you still don’t understand what happened.”

“Explain it to me then.”

The smile returned to Xue Yang’s face and he replied through vicious laughter. “No! I don’t think I will! Why should I have to spell it out to someone so determined to misunderstand it?”

Xingchen stepped forward, closing the gap between them and grabbed Xue Yang’s sleeve. “You owe it to me! After everything you put me through- with the existence Song Lan and I are condemned to because of you- the least you can do is answer this one question.”

Xue Yang frowned, his face twisted with anger. He slapped Xingchen’s hand off him, turning to face him head on, and glared up at him. Meeting the man’s gaze, the smile slowly returned to Xue Yang’s face. His eyes gleamed wildly and he let out another vicious laugh.

“Maybe because I was bored! Maybe I wanted to see you figure out my identity all on your own so I could watch your reaction! Maybe I was hoping your hand would brush over mine and you’d have the sinking feeling of terror, finally realizing who I was after all those years, while I had you bent over the table with my cock in your ass.”

Xingchen stumbled away from Xue Yang, looking as though he might vomit from his words. Xue Yang grabbed his wrist and reeled him back in, using his bandaged hand to wipe the tears off Xingchen’s face.

“That’s what you wanted to hear, right?” He asked quietly, staring at him blankly. “You wanted a perfectly gift-wrapped explanation for why I tricked you so you could finally make peace with your feelings and go back to hating me. Right?”

Shaking in his grasp, Xingchen tried to pull away, to turn around and run and not have to see his face ever again, but Xue Yang tightened his grip on Xingchen’s wrist and pulled him back.

“You know, it’s funny.” Xue Yang continued, cracking a small smile again. “By the time Song Lan finally showed up… I actually kinda thought you figured out who I was… We’d been in a relationship for two years, how could you not? ...Xiao Xingchen. You feel like I didn’t actually love you?”

He let go of the man finally and took a step back. “How do you think I felt when you stabbed me?”

Tapping his fingers along the straps of his backpack, Xue Yang kept his eyes glued to the floor, listening intently to Xingchen’s silence. When he felt satisfied, the smile returned to his face and he shrugged at Xingchen before turning to walk away without another word.

On his way back to the courtyard, Xue Yang made one final pitstop in the temple. He circled back around to the west corner, slid open the door to the artifact room, and slipped inside. From the expansive display case spanning the entire wall, Xue Yang knelt down and retrieved JiangZai. He strapped it to his back under his bag and continued on the front entrance, letting his attention fixate on how it felt to have the sword back where it belonged.

#mdzs #mdzs fic #the untamed #the untamed fic #cql #cql fic #xue yang #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #song lan #junior disciples #jin ling #Lan Sizhui #Lan Jingyi

[silverloreleysfanfics]

WIP part 9

Merry Christmas @26ja! This my present to you this jolly season (well, it’s supposed to be a jolly season, but this year is what it is...). I hope you’ll like it.

It’s two snippets. The first is with Tarabas and Romualdo, the second is about Smeralda.

1)

It wasn't the first time Tarabas and Romualdo ended up prisoners in a new place they visited. It wasn't new that it happened only because they carried weapons either - the High Prophethess of Diltani was every bit of a scaredy cat and there was an accident with the Pharsian itinerant court too... - so they weren't overly worried about that. Time wasn't on their side, though. With the anxiety for the kids's fate and not knowing to which point they could trust their travelling companions, saying the duo was a little antsy was an understatement. «Any idea how to get out of here?» Romualdo asked from his suspended cage up on the ceiling of a sturdy-looking building. The king estimated the place they were in had to be more ancient than the rest of the town, the architecture didn't match after all, except for the ceiling, and had it been another moment he might have mentioned that too, but in the current predicament... «I'm trying» was the reply from the other, who had his eyes closed and a hand outstretched towards the keys, several meters under them. «What happened to "no more magic"?» «With the children involved, this is not my top priority» Tarabas muttered. Romualdo rose a brow «You don't have to. We'll find a way out of it even without that» «Not like I have any choice. This strange land's metal doesn't obey me» the former wizard slumped to the bottom of the cell «Either that, or those cages are magic inhibitors» The two stood in silence for a few moments, thinking what they could to. «This brings back memories» Tarabas tilted his head «The expedition in Ozmandya?» Romuald shrugged «I was thinking of Maideur, but that too» «Right. How did we come out of that again?» «Parsel. Maideur is one of the isles of his kingdom and he vouched for us» Romualdo recalled. «What about how we escaped in Ozmandya?» «We're not repeating that, Tarabas. I almost broke my legs to do that» «Almost» the other precised, as if breaking a leg was nothing noteworthy. Maybe it wasn't for him, since he benefited of the accelerated healing of his fae blood, which wasn't the case for Romualdo and his human frailty, not to mention the number age and prolonged efforts did to his body. «And we don't have Silurus here» he added, mindful of how in that specific case it had been thanks to the huge magical catfish the White Witch had sent thir way, that they got out that situation unscathed. «So what? We wait for those people to free us? We don't even know them» «I do. Didn't I tell you I lived for some time in the Auburn Lands? It was before my father died and I had to come back to take his place» Romualdo recalled. «And?» «Greer is the younger sister of the duke of the Auburn Lands, who was my friend back then. When I lived there she was ten or so and was already a spitfire with the fame of never leaving any of her playmates behind, no matter what mess they put themselves in. If she's still anything like that, and from the stories I heard of her she is, she won't leave us here» After a moment of silence, Tarabas switched position to get a better look at the room underneath. «I'm still going to look for a way out on our own» «So am I. But I believe you're looking the wrong way» At Tarabas' interrogative side-eye, Romualdo pointed at the ceiling. «Oh» «My thoughts exactly» They both grinned.

2)

Two years had passed already since Fantaghirò disappeared. I braved my pain in silence, everybody was suffering, I couldn't give them more worries. But... Caterina and Carolina were busy, with Evaldo and Sabina and Rinaldo, other than with the kingdom. I took care of him too, of my adoptive brother, while the adults were out, looking for her. I studied, learned to read and perfect my aim with my slingshot, then learned how to use a bow and even started to practice with knives. I always had a good aim. For the first year, Romualdo barely spoke with me, always so hurt, always so desperate and despairing in his search, but he looked almost happy... that's a stretch, more like almost proud when he was told of my results. He needed more time to become more like a father to me. Tarabas showed up only to help, then he had to leave too, to try more or to reach others he loved. Sometimes they came with him, a few times he took me with him to them. The only bits of solace, moving to a place sadness had not contaminated for good. At the castle I was alone. So alone. It was as if I wasn't even there, at times. «Everyone I love disappears» I sobbed, hiding away in a secluded corner of the forest. What forest? I don't remember. My pain I ignored so long for the sake of others, to look strong when the adults who took me in expected me too, now it was too much, I felt like I was exploding, especially so after the last failed attempt. «Why? It's me? I bring misfortune? Maybe I should be the one to disappear...» And I did. I did, at last. «Shh, Smeralda, no, don't say such things» Cold but soft arms wrapped around me, a gentle hand carded through my hair. I knew this voice, knew those hands. «It's not your fault» My still small hands grabbed back, tightened on pale fabric, tears still stinging in my eyes. I couldn't see, but I knew who was there. «She never came back. She never will. My parents too...» «I understand what you're feeling» «No, you can't» I rebelled, but I didn't pull away. She didn't have the same warmth as Fantaghirò, but her embrace was just as reassuring and I missed that so much. The embrace of a mother. «My parents died too, Smeralda, when I wasn't much older than you. They were looking for a way to help me. And I felt it was my fault for the longest time» I sniffled and looked up at her crystal blue eyes. «But you see, what happened to me had a meaning we didn't understand at the time. Everything happens for a reason, the roads we take lead us to where and who we're supposed to be. Cry, if you need it, but then get up again. We'll figure it out. You're not alone» Smeralda woke up abruptly. She knew well why she relived that memory. "Cry, if you need it, but then get up again. We'll figure it out. You're not alone" She curled more on herself, face hidden in white feathers. No, she wasn't alone, and even if she was, she was going to find a way out.

Soo, I hope you liked those little snippets, the last one I wrote very recently as a part more enigmatic on what’s going on for the kidnapped people. I am also thinking of starting to post the fic as a proper long in my Ao3 account since I finalized the first two or three chapters and I’ll send you the link when I do.

In the meantime, Merry Christmas and... just tell me whatever you think of it! xxx

#My writing #cotgr wip ff

[seasonofthegeek]

Drift Away, Chapter 1

It is a known fact that I am vampire trash so I decided to play in the My Hero Academia universe since I’ve already got some Miraculous vampire trash fanfics, haha. 

___

“You’re quite beautiful, you know.”

Eijiro Kirishima blinked wearily, hoping the voice in his head would fade away like everything else around him. His eyes were so dry that his lids may as well be made out of sandpaper for how painful the action was. Worse, the little bit of energy it took seemed to make the voice louder.

“The color red suits you. Let’s make your hair match those pretty eyes, shall we?”

A low keening sound filled the dark room and it took him a moment to realize he was the one making it.

“You’re boring me, Eijiro. It’s no fun if you don’t kill them. Rip his throat out or I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you.”

Everything hurt but his fangs ached the worst. He was almost glad he couldn’t leave the small cottage. There would be no controlling his appetite out in the world now. Small mercies for a starved vampire who didn’t enjoy killing. Maybe he should consider himself lucky.

“I’m going out. You’re to stay here until I return.”

With a thrumming ache that travelled up his spine, he remembered the fake smile she gave him as she spoke, the cold eyes that showed her words for the lie they were.

“You won’t leave the cottage. You won’t feed. You won’t use your power. You won’t disobey me.”

And then she was gone, her sire command settling him in place, trapping him at the tiny dining room table in the small cabin in the middle of a secluded forest until her return.

He tried to swallow, and fire scorched his throat. Why was he awake? He’d drifted in and out of consciousness for years, but his mind was so fuzzy that he knew this last time had probably been longer than ever before.

A small thought filled him with hope and dread. Was she back? Had his sire finally returned to free him from this prison?

His mind provided the memory of a rarely seen furious face, fangs glistening and eyes hard. His sire’s real face when she let her loving façade slip.

“You belong to me, Eijiro Kirishima. You will never see them again. I’ll kill them if you ever go back. I may kill them anyway just so you’ll stop thinking about them. You’re mine. Mine. Tell me you understand. Tell me you love me. Now! Do it now!”

The sensation of crying without tears was odd but not unfamiliar. He took in a shaky breath and could hear and feel the air rattling around in his sunken chest. He’d been dead for centuries and it was a habit he’d never been able to let go of. His sire had detested it which could’ve caused his involuntary need to keep breathing even though it wasn’t necessary to his survival any longer. He’d always had a slight rebellious streak. That’s how he got into this mess in the first place.

How was he still even here? How had he not withered away to nothing after all this time? He was barely a husk of what he once was, but yet…

But yet he still existed.

Kirishima was so tired. So very tired. Everything hurt and he could sense the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. He didn’t waste the energy to look up at the loose board in the ceiling that had given way after a bad storm years ago and let a thin sliver of sunlight through when the fiery ball was high in the sky. He attempted to move his fingers, but the charred digits stayed in place on the table, once again waiting for the sun to burn them. It was the same every day.

He wanted to go to sleep again. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to think of nothing, of no one…

Especially not her. ___

“You look smug for someone who’s about to get his head and heart removed,” a guard scoffed, yanking on the chain attached to Katsuki Bakugo’s bound hands.

The other vampire smirked in reply. “And you look like little more than a snack to someone who just finished eating his sire and is still standing.” He flashed a grotesque grin, fangs on display and saliva dripping, and was pleased to see a flicker of fear in the guard’s expression before he roughly pulled him forward to keep moving down the hall.

Bakugo let his grin fall and glared down at his restraints as he was shuffled along by a caravan of guards. His hands were locked into metal coverings and while he could use his power of explosive fire to melt them, he wasn’t sure his skin would stay intact with that much heat trapped against it. His bravado was mostly show at this point because he was relatively certain he was taking his final steps as he was forced closer to the council room.

He should’ve run when he had the chance.

But no, he’d stayed around to check for survivors of his sire’s line. He hadn’t meant to kill them all when he’d killed her. He’d only wanted to rid himself and the world of her, but…

But that wasn’t how it worked.

Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure how he was still around. It wasn’t just rumor that killing the head of a line would result in the death of every vampire they’d sired; it was proven fact. He wasn’t the first fledgling to rise up and murder his sire in a fit of rage; he was just the only one who’d survived it.

Survived it only to be killed now by a group of stuffy ancients who only cared about upkeeping laws that should’ve changed centuries before.

His thoughts were interrupted as he was stopped before a pair of large, delicately carved wooden doors. There was no telling how old the doors were, and he could feel how deep underground they’d come. It was suffocating to him, but the elders hadn’t been to the surface in lifetimes.

Some sign was given and then he was being moved forward again as the doors swung inward. The room was empty save for a single chair in the center and a large table with the heads of the vampire council seated behind it on the other side.

Bakugo was chained to the chair without the loss of any of his other restraints and the guards moved to stand behind him. He ground his teeth together. “Bunch of show for a guy you’re just gonna kill. You really so scared of me?”

One of the elders made a sound that landed somewhere between a laugh and a cough and Bakugo caught the edge of his lips upturn into the smallest sign of a smile before one of the others spoke.

“You will be executed for your crime, make no mistake, fledgling.”

Fear rushed through his system, but he tried to keep his expression bored. He’d practiced it for decades now. “Then stop boring me and get it over with, you old bat.”

There was definitely a laugh now and Bakugo looked to the first elder again. “You have to admit he’s fun, Wyrmen. Come on.” He ignored the murmurs of his fellow leaders and focused his attention on the younger vampire set before them. “You have a chance to save your life, if you’re interested. Something tells me you will be. You seem the type to have a zest for life. Wish these old coots felt the same.”

Bakugo saw the glares and flashes of anger from the other elders but none spoke up against the first. “I’m listening,” he said slowly.

“As you know, The Countess, your late sire, was a collector of individuals with peculiar abilities.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Bakugo snorted. “Wanted all the power she could get her grubby hands on.”

“Which is why she turned you, of course.”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t speak.

The elder’s smile grew a bit wider. “Yes, we know, young one. Those hand casings aren’t only for show.”

“Yeah, didn’t figure they were.”

“Your little stunt has been quite the talk around here. You could’ve burnt your sire to a crisp with that spectacular power of yours, but you chose to drain her like a human.”

Bakugo shrugged the best he could in his restraints but found he couldn’t quite meet the old vampire’s eyes anymore.

“Well, to the meat of it then. Quite a long time ago, the Countess came in contact with a human with hardening skin. She thought he would be a good bodyguard, so she changed him. Imagine everyone’s surprise when his hardened skin worked to keep him safe from the sun as well.”

Bakugo knew he was letting his shock show, but he couldn’t help it. There was always talk of some magic that would allow vampires to walk in the sun, but for all he could tell, it was mostly myth. Was he really to believe that his sire had someone who could walk in the sun?

And that he’d probably killed him when he killed her.

“What makes you think he’s even still alive? Every fledgling of hers I found was nothing but ash when I got to them.”

“He was one of her firsts and much older than any of the playthings she kept around here,” the elder answered, amusement clear in his voice. “Much more powerful than you, surely.”

The younger vampire bristled at that but held his tongue.

“Our proposition,” the elder continued, “is that you find the whereabouts of this vampire and bring him to us. Once you’ve done that, you’re free to live out the rest of your existence however you see fit, aligning with our laws, of course.”

“Of course,” Bakugo muttered. “And how the hell am I supposed to find some old guy that may or may not be a pile of ash now?”

“I suppose you’ll find a way if you value your life, which I believe you do.” The elder held his gaze steadily, smile never slipping even as his eyes grew cold. “And you have a time constraint so perhaps that will help your motivation along.”

The look in the ancient’s eyes told Bakugo that he didn’t have a chance in hell of finding the vampire they wanted, but there was also the smallest spark of hope there. He’d worked with less.

“Fine,” he huffed. “It’s a deal.”

___

“So, it’s a suicide mission then?” Denki Kaminari dropped to the couch with a frown. “I don’t know if I’m so much into that, man. I kinda like living and all.”

“Didn’t ask you to come,” Bakugo replied in irritation as he rifled through a stack of papers on his desk. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”

“Wasn’t sure if you were coming back or not so I decided to hang out in case someone needed to claim your stuff.” The younger vampire grinned. “Figured you’d want it to go to family.”

“You’re not my fucking family.”

“Am so.”

“No, you’re not.”

“We’re like cousins. Our sires share the same sire.”

“I hate you.”

Kaminari laughed. “You don’t though. I think you might even kinda like me sometimes.”

Bakugo ignored him when he found what he was looking for and slipped his passport into the bag on his desk.

“You really think you can find this guy alone?”

“Don’t have much of a choice,” he answered gruffly. He needed to start packing his clothes; his flight was leaving soon and if he missed it, he’d have to wait another day to fly out to his first lead and time wasn’t exactly on his side.

“Hey, uh, kidding aside, do you want help?”

Bakugo turned around to see Kaminari standing now and awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. “What?”

“Momo wants us to help you if you’ll take it.”

“Who’s us?”

The younger vampire shrugged. “Anybody you want to come along, I guess. She pleaded with the council before they brought you in, ya know. She tried to get them to allow her to claim you in her line, so you’d be under her protection and all.”

Bakugo returned his attention to his packing at that to hide his face. “Wouldn’t have done that.”

“She wouldn’t have made you; at least I don’t think she would. More like an on paper kinda thing.” Kaminari reached out hesitantly and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “She wants to protect you.”

The rest of the words were left unspoken. Bakugo was very familiar with what Momo Yaoyorozu wanted. She was everything his sire hadn’t been, kind and warm and caring. It would’ve been a wonder how she managed to survive so long in such a cruel world, but Bakugo knew she had the same penchant for gathering powerful beings around herself just like his sire had.

And she’d wanted to protect all the poor little fledglings he’d inadvertently killed when he drained his sire.

He wasn’t sure he could trust Momo.

He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone.

“I’ll be fine. Now, get out. I gotta get the rest of my shit together.”

Kaminari sighed loudly and flipped his hand up in a careless wave. “Fine. I tried. Don’t get yourself killed, I guess.”

“Denki.”

The other man turned around; surprise evident on his face. “Thanks for the offer.” Bakugo dropped his gaze as he muttered. “And if I’m not back in a year or so, you can have my stuff.”

“Love you too, man. Be careful.”

Buy me a cherry coke?

#kiribaku #eventually since this is only chapter 1 haha #eijiro kirishima #katsuki bakugo #vampire au #my hero academia #bnha

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 15/? Kimi no Na Wa AU: “Seamless” [ok I changed stuff bc I’m well on my way to thirty and teenage love is fun and fresh until you realize you could technically be a parent yourself and then it’s all downhill from there. so the characters are adults, sorry about that] [title comes from (what I understand to be) a way of saying that goes “a goddess’s robe is seamless” which (supposedly) should mean a great plan coming together –which reminded me of fate and time and the whole underlying plot of the movie– or something perfect/the product of perfect craftsmanship. I was looking for info about weaving procedures and I stumbled across this:

From Wikipedia, under “Loom” “In Tang Dynasty, China, the goddess weaver floated down on a shaft of moonlight with her two attendants. She showed the upright court official Guo Han in his garden that a goddess's robe is seamless, for it is woven without the use of needle and thread, entirely on the loom. The phrase "a goddess's robe is seamless" passed into an idiom to express perfect workmanship. This idiom is also used to mean a perfect, comprehensive plan.”

There’s also reference to the legend of Vega and Altair, which is what the Japanese festival tanabata is based on. And my creative juices gave me a sugar high so...yeah] * No matter how isolated Gusu is known to be, preparations for the upcoming July festival attract people from all over the country. Time has relentlessly transformed what used to be a secluded and safe place for people to meditate in into a tourist location known for its cold springs and breathtaking sceneries. Yet, Lan Zhan wonders what cities and stories could possibly hide behind those mountains he has known for all his life.

Managing the temple of the goddess along with his older brother and uncle should bring him joy, but deep down he knows he’s still living beside them more out of obligation than anything else. Lan Huan himself feels trapped behind the usual mask of politeness and fake smiles, his heart still bleeding for the loss of his two precious friends in the span of five years. Their uncle Lan QiRen well may have taken them in when they were mere children, stepping in to take care of them in place of their mourning father after losing his wife... but Lan Zhan knows his brother doesn’t want to disappoint their elder in any way.

Falling in love not once, but two times in a lifetime should not be frowned upon... but Lan QiRen couldn’t stomach the idea of one of his nephews falling for a man the first time, let alone the second. Just having said goodbye to Nie MingJue when they were mere teenagers after their uncle had prohibited him from meeting with his nephew, Lan Huan thought he could have another chance at happiness with Meng Yao in his twenties... just for the other man to fall ill and move country to look after himself. Ever since, Lan Huan has stopped believing in ever being able to find happiness for himself and decided to accept his fate and manage the temple like their uncle did for most of his life.

The idea of celibacy doesn’t sit well with Lan Zhan, not for himself and certainly not for his heartbroken brother, but life outside Gusu seems so far away and unapproachable. Without them the ancient tradition of working the loom to create seamless robes would perish and most of the profits from the temple would fall dry if not for their hard work. Their mother used to be a seamstress herself, teaching them how to weave without breaking the delicate thread, setting the rhythm of their hearts with her feet moving on the pedals as they watched her work her magic day after day. Their robes are still valued for their absolute perfection, even if nowadays they’re bound to be bought not by emperors or kings, but by celebrities and politicians who just want to boast their ego in front of cameras and flashing lights. The set Lan Zhan himself has been working on will take another three months to finish and on top of that he uses his spare time to make the ribbons they sell at the local gift shop while his brother prepares the traditional talismans by hand, his calligraphy as delicate as the products of their weaving. 

As the nights of the local festival approach and they practice the rituals in full traditional gear more to appease the tourists than anything else, Lan Zhan feels getting more and more tired the longer he wears the long wig and the heavy robes himself, wishing his heart could stop being so ungrateful for the life he was entrusted with. But the news of a comet quickly approaching them brings the promise of change as Lan Zhan looks up at the sky and wishes he was born in a different body. Just for once. Just to live at least once in that existence of his.

[more under the cut]

Wei Ying is in university (engineering major), living with his brother Jiang Cheng (marine biology major) in their sister’s tiny ass apartment. They keep her company while she waits for baby Jin Ling to be born, ZiXuan working day and night in the hospital fresh out of med school to get their family a bigger house. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng moved in from the tiny Yunmeng and secretly hate the big city life, but their studies come first and they didn’t want to leave YanLi alone while pregnant. Their parents are still working in the countryside and couldn’t properly care for her, living so far away in Lanling.

Wei Ying works part time in a bar and the usual routine is so rooted in his system that he doesn’t even care anymore. Study, eat, work, sleep. Rinse and repeat. He would like to think his brother has it easier than him, but he’s even more elusive than him, studying in the library until his night shift in an art gallery as a guard. The poor guy doesn’t even sleep, let alone have a social life. Spring has just begun and YanLi still has a trimester to go, her spirits low even if she loves her child very much already. Keeping her company and helping her leading a normal life is their priority as her brothers, but sometimes Wei Ying wishes things were easier.

He doesn’t really want to become an engineer, or, at least... he used to want that. But he’s more interested in actually making stuff instead of taking a hundred calculus classes per semester. He wishes he could enjoy his studies more and maybe get a girlfriend or boyfriend to pass the time, not that he believes in romance or anything. Commitment sounds scary.

One day he wakes up and... nah, he’s still dreaming. The ceiling is wrong, he doesn’t live in an old traditional cottage with a view on... wtf is that a mountain? Fuck that he doesn’t have time to waste, he has a test today. Studied hard enough last night he fell asleep on the desk... better start getting ready.

So he goes to the bathroom and showers, too tired to even open his eyes. But the shampoo smells all wrong, what even is sandalwood? And he doesn’t like mint toothpaste. And why are his clothes a size bigger? He doesn’t even own a button down, what in the...?

Who the fuck is that in the mirror??!?

On the other hand, Lan Zhan wakes up on a desk, drool on the books, late for a test an angry stranger reminds him he has to take in half an hour at best. He is presented with a soup his body mechanically ingests out of habit as he tries to politely nod to whatever the kind woman in front of him is saying. (“You look sick, are you really okay?” / “A-Jie stop babying him” / “But I’ve never seen him so... quiet?” / “He’s probably pretending so that he can skip his test.”) But if he really has given his word for such a commitment... maybe he should just go.

Still, he doesn’t remember going to any university. That may be a problem.

His body feels different, but he never paid attention to his reflection. They don’t even own mirrors back at home anyway. He doesn’t remember his hair reaching well over his ears and under his jaw. Should he consider asking his brother to cut it for him? It feels greasy, should he fix it or?

As he tucks a strand behind his ear he realizes something is terribly wrong. From the tip of his nose to the width of his shoulders, from the clothes he put on without even thinking. The window of the shop under the apartment he’s just left shows him a stranger that he cannot recognizes for the life of his.

And now some funny stuff:

(If you are not familiar with the movie, go watch it. But if you are you should be fine with the following list so... enjoy)

Jiang Cheng loves dogs, but Wei Ying is allergic and they cannot get a puppy... so he de-stresses at a local dog café whenever he can. Wen Qing works there even if she’s a cat person and comments on how he’s secretly planning to murder her so he can get her job. They’re good friends and dated for a while before Wen Qing understood her lesbianism was stronger and Jiang Cheng’s chaotic bisexuality was leaning more on the boy section of the partner store anyway. They bitch about everything and everyone anyway.

Lan Zhan (in Wei Ying’s body) manages to arrive in university and take the test, getting perfect scores even if Wei Ying’s never got such a high mark. For the rest of the day he roams Lanling in awe, believing it’s just a very nice dream. He also discovers the existence of pet bunnies in a pet store and his life changes.

Wei Ying (in Lan Zhan’s body) is a mess. Lan Huan immediately notices something is wrong, but he hasn’t really smiled in several months and whatever is happening to WangJi is extremely entertaining to him. He sees him skipping the morning prayers right in front of Lan QiRen’s salad (so to speak) and he doesn’t seem to remember the existence of their uncle’s punishing bamboo stick.

He also clearly never used a loom in his life, but luckily Lan QiRen is too busy to notice as he welcomes tourists in the temple and explains them the history behind it. Lan Huan takes “Lan Zhan” out for a stroll and they sit down as Lan QiRen’s mellow voice explains the legend of the weaver goddess and the importance of the artisanal work they still keep practicing to this day. Transfixed, “Lan Zhan” smiles big at his brother and Lan Huan knows for sure this is not his WangJi at all.

Wen Qing finds “Wei Ying” petting bunnies in the shop where her current girlfriend MianMian works and notices how... awfully quiet he is. She thinks he bombed the math test and might be sad, but he doesn’t seem to recognize her when she waves her hand at him. She then reminds him he should be getting ready for work and he blanches at the idea. Eventually asking her “where he’s supposed to depart for” and honest to the gods Wen Qing ends up convincing herself he’s high as fuck.

Imagine “Lan Zhan” being reprimanded by Lan QiRen for -gods forbid- laughing too loud? Asking for a beer at the local tea house? Saying out loud that he craves meat when he’s vegetarian? That’s just a dream for poor Wei Ying, whatever! He’s having a great time and Lan Huan is this close to lose it when they practice the traditional rites together and “Lan Zhan” doesn’t know how to put the long wig on anymore.

Now imagine “Wei Ying” not knowing how to use a shaker at work, or how to make a martini, or the fact that he and a boy named Wen Ning are actually coworkers and not strangers. He goes back home at 3am with the feeling he has forgotten something important, but when he finally (finally) finds his apartment he falls asleep on the doorway. Too drained by the city life to even change out of his uniform.

Next day there’s no switch: Wei Ying wakes up in his body by the doorway, with Jiang Cheng coming back from his night shift and panicking hard; Lan Zhan wakes up in his bed but he’s somewhat grounded at 20 for... drinking beer?

Technical stuff now!

Lan Zhan lives in 2010 and he is 20, Wei Ying lives in 2015 and he is 20.

It’s LXC who suggest his brother to keep a diary for his dreams if they get too crazy (later on it will be revealed something shocking about LXC, but for now the journaling is just a “suggestion”)

WWX and LWJ switch every other night or so, and things change when WWX wakes up in LWJ’s body and finds the diary.

They keep in touch with diaries [bc I don’t think LWJ would have a phone like...ever, but I digress]

WWX notices the two Jades of Gusu are kept outside of their peers’ circles because other people think their family is weird: they still use courtesy names; they don’t eat meat; most of their relatives are believed to have died in celibacy without actually being monks themselves; they don’t drink alcohol and are deemed unsociable... and so on.

But it’s when he overhears people bashing LXC for “his past with several boys” and for “running away from society like his father” that WWX (in LWJ’s body) actually loses it and starts a fistfight right then and there until those losers stop muttering behind their backs.

In the meantime, ZiXuan comes back home to surprise YanLi... and LWJ is there (in WWX’s body) and the younger man almost doesn’t let him enter bc he doesn’t know who this strange man is and what does he want from Jiang Cheng’s sister?

LWJ also follows JC to his night shift one day bc he’s never seen an art gallery (but apparently WWX often trails behind his younger step brother anyway, so JC doesn’t notice anything weird... aside from how quiet the other is)

JC then takes that opportunity to ask his brother (while LWJ inhabits said body) if... if he’s depressed and needs help [“Wen Qing saw you petting bunnies too many times for you to be ‘just fine’. You can talk to me.” / “it’s fine.” / “fuck that you’re not fine. Stop lying to me.” / “it’s just a transitional time for me, it will pass” / “who taught you such big words, what the fuck”] and then JC begrudgingly tells his brother than he loves him and doesn’t want him to be sad.

The next day WWX is back in his body and finds written down: “your brother tells me he loves you and that you should take better care of yourself” and WWX clowns the fuck out of JC the following day and JC is like “noPe. You’re fucking fine. Whatever, your fucking with me. You’re always fucking with me. Stupid of me to fucking care, gods forbid.”

LWJ starts developing feeling when he learns WWX defended Lan Huan + LWJ goes every night he can to the art gallery when he doesn’t have to work at the bar and learns there’s an entire section of the gallery dedicated to Gusu + but he doesn’t want to think about home for now, avoiding the exhibit, and so he learns more about JC and starts to think he would have lots of things to talk about with LXC.

Lan QiRen takes his nephews to their annual purification trip to Burial Mounds, to a cave hidden on the mountain where it is said the goddess met with her lover for the first time in the past. They leave their offerings and change the ropes securing the entrance of the cave with sturdier ones, which they have made themselves prior that year. It is said that whoever enters the cave will be granted a wish, so it’s responsibly of the Lan family to keep everyone else out until the lover of the goddess returns to be granted the wish to reunite with her. It’s a privilege the goddess has left for him to enjoy and no mortal should dare take that from him. Only those who wear the sacred headband of the Lan family can enter without being cast out of the cave and be forced to leave by the spirits.

WWX falls in love with LWJ a bit everyday: the little gifts and notes he finds on his desk for WWX to open and read every morning; the beautiful drawings LWJ makes of the mountains; the care he put in the white robes that should adorn a deity and not common human beings.

crushed with longing for WWX, LWJ wishes to meet with him one day (the real him) and so he runs away from Gusu on train and reaches Lanling and searches for him at the university. But he’s not there. He looks everywhere for him, but doesn’t find him. Until he stumbles into YanLi and it’s almost like there’s a wall between them: shocked, LWJ recognizes YanLi even if he knows she has never actually met him in real life; but the worst thing is that... she’s not pregnant. She’s not even at home as she usually is, but going to university herself and it doesn’t even seem like she’s even in a relationship with ZiXuan yet: the two of them not even sparing a glance to one another in the university corridors.

LWJ finds his words at long last, asking YanLi if her brother Wei Ying is well. She beams at him at first, elated to see her brother actually has friends outside of the family... “but you look around my age, right? What business do you have being friends with a fifteen year old boy anyway?”

Shocked, the last thing LWJ can do before leaving her alone is to give her a ribbon he made himself, the one that represents his heart. “I just know him by chance, he... he helped my brother once. I was wondering how to repay his kindness so I made this for him. Can you give it to him?”

That evening he goes back to Gusu and he prepares for the festival knowing the comet is coming. The last thing he wishes is to forget about Wei Ying, because -having realized there’s a discrepancy in timelines and that he has interacted with someone from the future for months now- he cannot possibly justify having developed feelings for a minor.

There are no more switches and WWX is left wondering what happened.

Now the sad part:

Under the weather for what happened, WWX follows JC around a lot and he even adopts a couple of bunnies to cope. YanLi is closer and closer to the due date and gets restless, forcing her brothers to clean up the entire apartment with her until everything sparkles for the baby’s arrival. They dig out an old box with all of YanLi’s stuff from university and LWJ’s ribbon appears out of nowhere. WWX immediately recognizes it for what it is.

[“I’m sorry A-Ying, I was supposed to give you this back then, but I forgot.” / “What are you taking about... why do you have a Gusu’s ribbon with you?” / “Ah, was your acquaintance from up there? He said you helped his brother once, or something like that... and he wanted to thank you. I’m really sorry.” / “How long ago was that A-Jie?” / “Five years or so? I think?”]

To this JC startles, saying that’s awfully weird, considering what happened to Gusu exactly five years prior. To which WWX is like ?pardon? and then JC takes them to the art gallery to the traditional art section, where the exhibit on Gusu is: there, WWX finally remembers how a relatively small rock has detached itself from the comet and destroyed Gusu in 2010 on the final day of the July festival.

On a display there, the siblings find one of the few things spared by the fire: an unfinished set of robes weaved with the precious heavenly silk, which was said to be made from the stars themselves.

Wei Ying cries all of his tears, neither JC or YanLi can console him and the only thing they come up with is that -maybe- their brother felt bad for forgetting to cherish a friendship... but they don’t remember if he had reacted so badly five years ago when the news of the fire at Gusu broke.

In the middle of the night, with the ribbon secured around his wrist, Wei Ying runs away and takes a train to Gusu. There are no more direct lines and he has to hike all the way up there... just to see a lake where the town was supposed to be. The crater so big it swallowed the ground where half of the city used to be.

Desperate, he wanders the mountains without knowing where to go, until his feet take him to the secluded path Uncle QiRen took him once. He follows it, noticing the same ribbons knotted around the trees he saw the first time he walked there. He follows the path and reaches the cave.

Inside, nothing happens. The talismans are still there, but -as he imagined (*eyeroll emoji*)- there’s no actual magic preventing him from entering. So he jumps over the white ropes made of ribbons and silk and gets inside the cave of Burial Mounds. He takes shelter there from the storm outside and thinks of Lan Zhan, of how much he misses him. And then he cries thinking about him and his brother and their uncle and the entire Gusu: because none of them deserved to die. And he wishes he can rewind time and save them all.

He faints in the cave and his wish is granted.

Now for the good part!

He wakes up in LWJ’s body (in 2010), the day after the boy’s impromptu trip to Lanling, the last day of the July festival. He gets to work as soon as he goes downstairs, determination painting his (well, LWJ’s) features to the point Lan Huan notices... and he has to say something.

While they ate breakfast, out of Lan QiRen’s sight, Lan Huan sits his “brother” down and tells him something unexpected: that he used to switch bodies with not one but with two people at the same time, NMJ and JGY.

That he managed to finally meet NMJ in their teens when the older boy came to Gusu for a school trip... but he didn’t want to leave bc he had finally found LXC and didn’t want to part ways. Lan QiRen put end to the older boy’s silly antics and the two friends agreed to meet in secret, before Lan Huan put a end to the relationship for fear of displeasing his uncle. The three friends kept switching bodies until one day they stopped.

Then Meng Yao came to find him and told him he had discovered the truth of what happened: that NMJ had a car accident and lost most of his memories of their years as friends and that now was living somewhere else with the woman he fell in love with. Meng Yao himself tried to live in Gusu for a few years afterwards, regardless of his poor health, eventually deciding to not make Lan Huan worry and disappeared without a word to take care of himself (or to die far away enough so that Lan Huan didn’t have to see him at his worst).

Lan Huan said that it took him years to remember their names and that he was able to finally utter them in front of his brother only the previous year, at the last July festival. He also reveals WWX that trying to remember something so simple caused him great pain, to the point he believed he could let himself die that way, starving himself from human connection.

Impressed and sorrowful, WWX cries for him and wishes things were different for Lan Huan, who’s only 23 and yet had suffered more than anyone else. But Lan Huan is content with what he has, even if he feels guilty for being the reason Meng Yao neglected his health. Yet he’s happy for NMJ and doesn’t regret befriending them at all.

With his help, WWX alerts people in Gusu: LXC finally standing up for himself against their uncle in order to gain his respect and convince him of the emergency at hand.

On the other hand, LWJ wakes up in the cave in WWX’s body (in 2015) and doesn’t know why he’s there. Yet he knows the way out and travels back following the ribbons... but when he reaches Gusu he sees there’s only a crater filled with water and doesn’t know what to do. He knows of the time discrepancy between the two realities, but he doesn’t know what to think.

WWX realizes LWJ must be in his body somewhere on the Burial Mounds, from the top of which Gusu can be seen, but he doesn’t know if he would find his own body in the cave, since the year now is 2010 and WWX reached the cave by himself only in 2015. Yet something tells him to go and so he leaves for the mountain.

On top of the Burial Mounds, he doesn’t find anyone.

But Lan Zhan is there, on the other side of the veil between present and future.

And as the light of the sun fades away and dusk approaches, Wei Ying enters his body and Lan Zhan gets back inside his own. They meet for the first time and Wei Ying doesn’t know what to say, having never seen Lan Zhan’s body from outside and feeling suddenly very self conscious and uninteresting.

To which Lan Zhan responds with “are you legal?” / “what the fuck Lan Zhan.” / “I gave you my ribbon. did you receive it?” / “yes, my... my sister gave it to me like, yesterday.” / “yesterday as in... what year?” / “2015”

And then Lan Zhan kisses the hell out of him because nothing screams romanticism to him like a relationship between two contenting adults and Wei Ying gets blissed out of his pants for that single kiss on the spot. In between kisses Wei Ying tries to convince Lan Zhan to stop, that there’s something they should remember... or at least something they should not forget.

But Lan Zhan does not relent, hugging and holding Wei Ying, finally... finally keeping him close and never letting him go.

Until Wei Ying disappears and the only thing left of him is the white ribbon Lan Zhan has given him.

They forgot to write their names, so that they would not forget them like LXC has done for years.

And finally.....!

years have passed, it’s the beginning of 2020 [sans quarantine, thank you] and Wei Ying has graduated and is looking for a job. He doesn’t remember Lan Zhan.

Jiang Cheng has found a job close to the sea at the local aquarium and the only thing he talks about on the phone is “how useless his new intern is. a nobody late bloomer who discovered the mountain wasn’t for him and decided to study in the opposite direction, go figure. Gusu must have bored him alright. but the other day he reminded me mountains are actually ancient reefs and now I think I’m in love.” So all is well.

(Gusu did not fall and everyone was evacuated in time. Lan Zhan had descended the mountain and made sure his brother got his backup in convincing their uncle of the emergency. He doesn’t remember either, but he always keeps his ribbon on his wrist, feeling like he’s waiting for someone to get it back.)

On a snowy night they cross paths on a pedestrian bridge, but don’t recognize each other... until Wei Ying’s scent of lotus reaches Lan Zhan. But the other has already disappeared behind a corner of the ever busy Lanling and they miss each other once again.

The following day, when Wei Ying has just dropped Jin Ling at his kindergarten and is about to cross a road, he sees a familiar face on the other side of the street. Both of them are talking to the phone: Wei Ying to Jiang Cheng, who’s calling him from a toilet, panicking about his first date with the intern; and Lan Zhan with his brother Lan XiChen, who’s waiting for his date to come back from the bathroom in the restaurant they chose to meet at.

As they walk towards each other they sense something, but don’t stop. Until they have now reached their respective sides of the road and realize what just happened. They turn around, but there are too many cars in between them.

They look for a way to meet and run towards a pedestrian bridge right above the road. They make the steps two at a time until they’re out of breath on top and stare at each other after so long. Wei Ying has lived for five years feeling like half of him was missing, but Lan Zhan had spent twice as long waiting for something to change in his life.

(“I’m still legal, you know?” / “That’s the first thing you decide to tell me after ten years? Really?” / “you thought it was romantic last time” / “what’s that supposed to mean?” / “that you should kiss me right the fuck now, you big oaf.”)

They meet in the middle of the bridge and kiss.

Then, Lan Zhan tilts his head and ask “what was you name again?”, clearly amused, and waits until Wei Ying’s laughter resonates all around.

The fucking end.

Now I need a break.

*

#mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #cql #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #mdzs/au: manga/anime inspired #mdzs/au: kimi no na wa

[butter-egg-toast]

Type of Dates Headcoans

What type of Dates would the Free characters would like to go on. Each character appears twice out of the fourteen 🤔

Fancy restaurant: Nao:

Most likely would go to a fancy place small and simple at downtown Tokyo.

A place with expensive wine.

Order foreign food.

A beautiful City View.

"You look so elegant in that dress (y/n)"-Nao

After dinner you'll both return to his apartment.

Concert: Natsuya, Nagisa, Seijour, Momo:

All four of them is energetic, what better way to express that in a loud place.

Most likely would have front row seats.

Would buy tickets to your favorite music artist or band.

Natsuya and you would travel to another country just to see that band or Artist.

Buy you some merchandise.

Dance with you to your favorite song.

Most likely would keep the party going by getting some drinks (natsuya).

Both Momo, Seijour and Nagisa would fan boy all over the band.

"How was the concert (y/n) chan? Did you have a great time?" -Nagisa

"I can wait to show Rin Senpai and Nitori Senpai these pictures" -Momo

"Hey (y/n) let's get a few drinks I'm in the mood." -Natsuya

Stargazing: Rei, Ikuya and Hiyori:

Rei and Hiyori is the type to do research before the date (especially Rei) just so they can impress you with their Newfound knowledge. (Book worms)

Ikuya would like the idea of stargazing because he would love the fact of being alone with you in a isolated place.

All three of them would love a quiet area

"We sure picked a beautiful night for this (y/n) san" -Rei

"Say (y/n) don't you think this is amazing?"-Hiyori

"There sure are a lot of stars out tonight..dont You think (y/n)?"- Ikuya

Potluck: Souskue and Haru:

Both boys are amazing cooks, so expect a lot of mackerel and pork.

Sousuke would practically make a buffet of food.

Haru and Souskue would probaly invite Rin and Makoto.

Probaly have a eating contest

"I tried a different mackerel recipe, how is it?"- Haru

"Don't take all the meat for your self (y/n)"-Sousuke

"Don't eat too much or you'll get a stomach ache" -both Haru and Souskue

Cooking together/staying at home:

All the boys: Seems like they can cook.

It's nice to take a break for once.

Nothing better than a home cooked meal with the one you love.

Plus stay at home dates are usual more fun, spending time together alone, watching a movie, playing games or other (wink wink*).

Mostly likely to lead to something to a little nsfw after a while (Natsuya, Rin, Kisumi, Nagisa, Asahi, Hiyori and Seijour )

Mostly likely to cuddle(Makoto, Ikuya, Nao, Nitori, Hiyori, Haru, Rei and Momo)

Expect a lot of teasing and tickling.

Scary movies (not for Makoto and Rei)

"..hey can we have a little fun"-Kisumi

"I'll watch this horror movie if you stay by my side"-Makoto

Aquarium: Haru and Rin:

Even though they visit the aquarium very frequently they both would love to share the experience with you.

"I wonder what it would feel to be a sea creature" -Rin

"Every time I come here I feel calm."-Haru

Cafe: Hiyori, Asahi, Kisumi:

Hiyori would take you to his favoite cafes around the city.

Asahi would most likely take you to his sister's cafe for a first date, he'll go in the kitchen and cook something up for you.

Kisumi would take you to a cafe that specialized in sweets, he'll feed you every piece.

"Hey you have to try this (y/n) it's sooo delicious!"-Kisumi

"Ahh this cafe is so peaceful"-Hiyori

"I know it's not much but I hope you like it"-Asahi

Beach: Nagisa, Seijour Kisumi:

They would love to share a snow cone or ice cream with you, play in the water or even play some beach volleyball.

Just chilling together

Expect them wanting to put sunscreen on you.

"That swimsuit compliments your figure (y/n)"-Seijour

"(Y/n) chan Lets build a awesome sand Castle"-Nagisa

"Can I rub some sunscreen on you?"-Kisumi

Museum: Rei and Nao:

Nao and Rei are pretty knowledgeable about Art.

They would show you to their favorite art pieces and sculptures.

A lot of talking.

Can totally imagine you getting lost in the museum because they (definitely Rei) got distracted by an art piece.

"This ancient art is beyond beautiful"-Rei

"What souvenirs do would you like/get (y/n)'- Nao

"Which one was your favorite"- Rei and Nao

Bowling: Rin, Natsuya, Souskue:

These three would make a simple bowling date in to a mini competition.

Definitely your competitive spirit will come out bowling with these boys.

Making bets on who would win.

"Loser has to buy drinks"-Natsuya

"Don't get upset when you lose"-Souskue

"You're on.. I'm most definitely not going to lose"- Rin

Picnic: Makoto, Nitori, Ikuya:

They may not be as good at cooking but they would still help you with the food.

All three would try to find a secluded or isolated spot away from the public to have some quality one-on-one time with you.

Most likely you guys would chat and take a few pictures.

Ikuya would specifically make a music playlist of his and your favorite songs.

Listening and relaxing.

Ikuya and Makoto seems like the type to lay their heads down on your lap as you feed them or stroke their hair.

Even though Makoto would be embarrass he would LOVE the idea of you feeding him your homecook meal.

Nitori would probaly bring a lot of food because he couldn't decide what to bring

"It's so relaxing being here with you"- Ikuya

"(Y/N) Senpai I hope you like my cooking" - Nitori

"Wow your home cooked meal is really delicious"- Makoto

Karaoke:

I can Imagine everybody doing karaoke.

There will be some of the boys that would get slightly embarrassed (Rei, Makoto and Nitori).

Some would take it over broad possibly singing every song( Natsuya, Momo, Asahi, Seijour, Nagisa and Kisumi) and then the others that wouldn't care much but still want to do it( Nao, Souskue, Hiyori, Ikuya, and Haru)

Expect a lot of group songs and duets.

Get ready for that random sex/love song.

Zoo: Nitori:

He's very knowledgeable on animals. Take tons of photos with you and the animals.

Would probaly make a mini schedule through out the day.

Pet a few animals

"(Y/n) let's get a picture with the panda" - Nitori

Arcade: Momo, Makoto, Asahi:

Momo's a big kid when it comes to games.

He would have a bag full of toys for him, you and all his friends.

Asahi would most likely would win all types of prizes for you (like cute key chains and stuff animals).

Asahi would probably lose every game you guys would play together.

Makoto would just be happy and excited that you're there with him.

Surprisingly Makoto is really good at shooting games but he absolutely hate horror games.

Makoto would buy a few toys for Ren and Ran.

"I had such a wonderful time (y/n)"-Asahi

"Look I can't beilve how much we won.. I'm giving these to EVERYONE!"-Momo

"I'm exhausted but I'm glad I got to spend the day with you"-Makoto

Amusement park:

All would enjoy the thought of a amusement park. Some of the boys would most definitely be too scared to go on the rides.

At the end you guys could go on the ferris wheel.

"What, you scared? Don't worry, you can hold my hand"- Natsuya

"Um, are you sure you want to go on that?"-Rei

"Lets seat in the front row (y/n) chan"-Nagisa

"I would rather go on the kiddie rides"-Hiyori

"Whaat..you scared? Tch..dont be I'll be right next to you"-Rin

"I think I want to go on that water ride first"-Haru

"I'm not a roller coaster person but I'll still go on with you"- Ikuya.

Let me know which one was your favorite 👌

#free! road to the world #free dive to the future #free! #haruka nanase #makoto tachibana #rin matsuoka #sousuke yamazaki #asahi shiina #ikuya kirishima #natsuya kirishima #nao serizawa #rei ryuugasaki #nagisa hazuki #headcanon #free images #free iwatobi swim club #free! eternal summer

[thebossveigar]

The Moondawn Celebration

Veigar rolled his eyes. “I don’t really want to help. It all sounds ridiculous.” he groaned.

“Veigar, didn’t Lulu ask you to help out with the festival? This is a big deal for her, and most of our kind.” Tristana asked.

“Yeah, she did.” he responded. “Doesn’t mean I have to do it. I may consider her family, but that doesn’t mean I have to take part in everything she asks of me.”

Tristana sighed. “Give it a chance. Who knows, you may even have fun!”

“Fine.” he said, giving up on the thought of trying to get out of this.

“Good.” she said while smirking. “You can help Rumble and I set up the plaza for the event.”

You see, the end of the harvesting season was nearing in Bandle City. Yordles have had a rather bountiful harvest, and were ready to face the harshness of the coming cold season. Before the cold season begins though, the biggest night of their year happens, and yordles celebrate it. This night is known as Moondawn.

Moondawn is a night near the very end of the harvest season. On this night the moonlight turns a shining silver, and feels incredibly warm, almost as warm as the golden sun, and touches the ground all over the spirit realm, blessing the land and causing one last growth to the crops all around.

Yordles celebrated this night by honoring the moon, designing banners to hang around the villages, making tons of food and baked goods they name after the event, and letting off fireworks at the end of the night. 

And this year will be Veigar’s first time witnessing Moondawn since he was a young yordle. The way Lulu had described it to him made it sound like something she had made up rather than a serious thing, but the entire village had been talking excitedly about it, and now he was practically forced to participate in the festival.

The day of the festival came fast. It was an absolutely beautiful day in Bandle City. The sunlight was golden, forest frogs were croaking a song, and rainbow fish were splashing around the gilded river. Even some Glade protectors were gently fluttering by the villages, waving their little paws to greet the yordles below.

 Veigar had been making his to the plaza to help set everything up. He made sure to take as convoluted of a path possible, mostly to delay the inevitable. He hated celebrations, absolutely despised them. In fact, he hated them so much he would ruin celebrations back in Boleham just to watch the despair, fear and panic in everyone.

‘I hope this thing doesn’t last long.’ he thought to himself, while kicking a rock into the gilded river, scaring off some of the rainbow fish that were splashing around the bank of the river.

“It’s not fair.” he scowled. “Why is it when they don’t want to participate in something, they don’t have to. When I don’t want to participate in something I get forced into it in some way.”

At this point he was more so stomping his way towards the plaza, still taking the long, convoluted path. Being forced into all these events made him think. He loved being in Bandle City and having a place to call home, but he wasn’t big on all these events that yordles had. In a way, it made him miss the secluded life back in Boleham in a way.

“I don’t have to show up and help.” he mumbled to himself. “I’ll go to the tavern until sundown. Then I won’t have to help set the event up.”

He made his way towards the Dewdrop Tavern on the edge of the plaza. He sneaked his way around the back of most buildings to avoid Tristana’s eyesight.

Veigar had noticed Lulu walking towards the main plaza, with Pix sitting on her hat with a bored expression on his face. She seemed to be carrying a container filled with cupcakes she had made for the festival tonight, and she looked quite happy about them. While he was tempted to blow his cover to say hello to her, he thought it better to continue his way to the tavern and hide.

He arrived at the tavern at midday. The tavern was mostly empty, aside from the bartender, which was perfect for Veigar. It was peaceful, quiet and he would spend his time in the backroom reading texts on ancient magic until the day was over.

Over at the main plaza of Bandle City, yordles were bustling to get everything prepared for the big night. Tristana and Rumble were hanging banners, Ziggs was counting up the fireworks, and Lulu was placing out all the baked goods on a table. It was looking like preparations for the festival were going well.

Lulu had been looking all around the plaza for Veigar. She was really excited to show Veigar how exciting the Moondawn Festival was.

“You did ask him to come help, right?” Lulu asked Tristana.

“I did, Lulu. I don’t know if he forgot or what, but I hope he shows up for your sake” Tristana replied.

“I hope so too..” Lulu whispered.

The day had gone by fast with how busy everyone was kept. Over at the Dewdrop Tavern, Veigar was dozing off and struggling to keep awake. Looking over at the clock mounted on the wall, he realized he had stayed much longer than he meant to. He stood up and went outside. The sun was setting, and night was fast approaching.

Veigar made his way towards the plaza, his nose twitching from the smell of all the fresh baked goods in the air. It was an overwhelmingly sweet smell, and he didn’t know if he liked it, or hated it. Banners showing yordles dancing under the moon, crops growing in size, and detailed pictures of the moonlight touching the ground of Bandle and its surrounding area were strung all over the village. Many of the yordles were dancing, singing and drinking Mistberry Wine in celebration. Even creatures from the local Bandle woods were gathering for the event, perching on posts or rooftops.

This surprised Veigar. ‘This event really is that big of a deal here?’ he asked himself.

He scanned the plaza, looking around for Lulu. He saw she was sitting alone behind the bulletin board. It wasn’t like her to not celebrate things like this, especially when she makes a big deal of them and hypes them up. This concerned him, to see his friend down.

“Lulu?” he asked.

Lulu jumped, she wasn’t expecting anyone to come over and bother her. “Veigar?” she wiped tears away from her eyes.

Veigar sat down next to her. “You were really excited about this event. Why aren’t you over there celebrating with the rest of the yordles?”

“I wanted to celebrate it with you.” she replied somberly. “I never felt too welcome during these festivals. Most other kids think I’m weird, and Trist usually spends the night with Rumble. I thought I could celebrate with you, but you didn’t show up earlier… so I thought you weren’t coming.”

Veigar’s heart sank a little hearing this. “Don’t take it personally Lulu.” he said softly, patting her head. “I’ve never been one for social events. They’re too loud, and I hate big crowds. I always hated hearing everyone celebrate, they create too much noise. When Tristana asked me to help set up, I didn’t come because I wasn’t fond of being asked to help set everything up. I always planned to come at sundown, just to make you happy. You are my best friend after all.”

Veigar gave her a hug, and her sadness had gone away quickly. She hugged him back, and then sprang up out of excitement.

“Let’s go then! There’s plenty of games we can play, and snacks we can eat. And just wait till the moonlight comes, it’ll be sooo pretty!” 

Several hours had passed. Veigar managed to have a good time, mostly due to the great food and wine that was around. Lulu had a great time playing all the games that were set up, and explaining the long, storied traditions of Moondawn to Veigar.

It was time for the main event. The moon was shining, and a beam of bright silvery energy touched the ground and spread vastly across the magic filled lands of the spirit realm. The light was surprisingly warm, and rather beautiful - even to Veigar.

The remaining crops had grown exceptionally, and had a faint silvery glow to them. All the yordles had cheered, this harvest season was a major success and they were prepared for the cold season.

Veigar remained silent as he watched the rest of the moonlight flicker out. Fireworks had gone off above the plaza, and the event was coming to a close. It was rather late, and he felt exhausted from being around so many people for so long. He was ready for a long rest.

“Thanks, Lulu. I enjoyed myself, but I need to head home now. I recommend you head home soon too.” he said to her.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Veigar. I told you you’d have fun!” she said with a smile on her face. “Can I follow you home?”

“Sure.” Veigar replied. “You don’t live too far from me.”

There were faint silver sparkles in the air, and moon moths were all over Bandle City. All the creatures from the Bandle woods scurried back to their homes. Veigar listened to Lulu as he took her home, and he thought that maybe, festivals weren’t so bad after all.

#veigar #veigar league of legends #lulu league of legends #Tristana #Bandle City #yordle

[kulcipher]

ML Partners in Crime au: Adieu Adrien and Marinette

Apparently I can’t get enough of @gale-of-the-nomads‘ Partners in Crime au so I wrote another short fic lol. Trigger warning for faked/ implied suicide

~~

Marinette’s mouth was full of pins as she worked on a new set of disguises when Adrien walked into their latest hideout. She made a muffled greeting when she became aware of his presence though continued what she was doing. The disguises had become necessary to throw off suspicions recently, all of Paris was looking for Ladybug and Chat Noir it seemed and Marinette had the foresight to see it might be strange if she and Adrien were seen near any- or multiple- sightings of their alter egos.

“Marinette… I’ve been thinking.” Adrien started as he sat next to her work station. “Isn’t it time that we disappeared?” He asked slowly. He watched as she frowned and got to a stopping point so she could pull the pins from her mouth and actually speak. “What do you mean disappear?” She asked, eyes briefly following Plagg as he floated over to where Tikki was moodily munching on a chocolate chip cookie.

“It’s getting harder to live up to the Agreste name, I think Nathalie is suspicious of where I run off to all the time.” He admitted. It was tiring going back and forth between his two lives and if he was being honest he was just plain tired of modeling and being an Agreste. Marinette was quiet for a while before she nodded. “Okay, I think we should do more than just disappear though.” Her lips twisted up into a vicious smile. “So Mr. Agreste, how would you like to die?”

~~

“You’re sure you want to do this? You won’t be able to take it back.” Marinette said softly in Adrien’s ear under the pretext of wishing him luck before the fashion show. She smiled and straightened out his collar, glancing briefly to see who might be watching them. His hands came up to cover hers and he smiled back at her. “I’m sure Marinette.” He kissed away anything else she might have said and cupped her face tenderly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” She sighed and nodded as she reluctantly left him to get into place.

As Marinette joined Alya her cell phone rang and she excused herself to answer it. After a moment she rejoined her friend and winced. “Sorry Alya, Maman called and said they really need my help with a big order. Can you let Adrien know after the show?” She asked as she hugged her friend.

“Shoot girl yeah, are you sure they can’t make do without you though? This is a huge show!” Alya said while Marinette shook her head sadly. “I guess you do get invited to all of them but still… Alright, I’ll tell him.” The ombre haired girl sighed and waved as Marinette ran off.

Once outside, Marinette found a secluded spot and opened up her bag. “Okay come on out.” She said softly. The little fox kwami floated out, looking a bit uneasy. “Trixx, let’s pounce!” She exclaimed and light surrounded her. The necklace hiding under her shirt glowed and she was transformed into an orange fox-themed outfit. She jumped easily onto the roof and settled near a skylight, sitting with her flute and watching the show. Once Adrien had his turn on the catwalk it was show time.

Marinette brought the flute to her lips and created an illusion, showing everyone watching the tragic end of the famous model Adrien Agreste.

~~ Marinette had just arrived at her parents’ bakery when her phone rang. She knew what it was about and took a deep breath. Adrien had done his part, it was time to do hers now. She pasted on a smile as she walked inside and greeted her Maman while answering her phone. “Hey Alya, what’s up?”

“Marinette… I’m so sorry. There’s- there’s been an accident. Adrien-“ Alya choked on a sob.

“Alya, what are you talking about? What happened? Is Adrien okay?” Marinette’s voice rose with faked panic and both her parents paused in concern.

“I’m so sorry Marinette… A stage light fell and Adrien… Adrien’s gone.” Alya had started crying and Marinette cried with her, feeling incredibly guilty for putting her friend through this and more. She tried not to think about what Nino might be going through.

“H-he can’t be, what do you mean he’s gone?!”  Marinette wailed. Her parents gasped and hurried over to her, having gleaned enough to figure out what had happened. She put her phone on speaker as Alya haltingly explained what had happened and how Adrien had passed away. Marinette shoved her phone into her father’s hands and fled upstairs to hide away in her room.

Her parents consoled her for the next few hours until they thought she had cried herself to sleep.

“Marinette you really shouldn’t be lying to everyone like this.” Tikki said timidly, floating out of her chosen’s bag. “You’re hurting a lot of people.”

“Tikki… It’s too late to go back. We can’t explain how Adrien is somehow still alive and I can’t just abandon him. We’re partners and this was my idea.” Marinette said firmly. “In the long run this is a good thing.” She and Adrien could die before their loved ones could truly suspect who they were and what they had done. “But Marinette-“

“But nothing Tikki, you can’t change my mind.” Marinette cut off her kwami. Tikki was too kind hearted to understand why this was necessary. She respected Tikki but the kwami saw too much good in people, even the ones who had done nothing but hurt and corrupt those around them. Despite being an ancient being of enormous power, Tikki was still way too naïve about humans and how terrible they were. Tikki was quiet and just looked at her chosen forlornly.

~~ Marinette had a lot of practice with acting. First at convincing her parents that school wasn’t that bad, that oh she’d skinned her knees because she was clumsy not because anyone pushed her, then convincing Alya that she overslept constantly so no she hadn’t had time to their homework and she certainly wasn’t being forced into doing Chloé’s, and of course living a double life for years.

She didn’t enjoy deceiving her parents but it had to be done, so for the next few days she hardly ate (at least in front of them), pretended as if she hadn’t slept, was listless and allowed them to see how dead inside she’d felt before she’d been given her miraculous. They were concerned of course and often sicced Alya on her but gave her space to grieve.

 After a few days of her listlessness, Marinette called Alya to meet her for ice cream. Alya jumped at the opportunity and agreed of course. Marinette arrived first and climbed over the rail of the bridge they had agreed to meet on. She leaned against the rail as she waited for Alya to arrive.

“Marinette? What are you doing?” Alya asked when she did finally arrive and saw where her friend was standing.

“I’m sorry Alya.” The once aspiring designer whimpered. “I just- I can’t do this anymore.” Her voice broke and she let go of the rail with one hand.

“Marinette no! Please don’t do this, things will get better!”

“I’m so sorry.” She let go just as Alya lunged for her, falling before her friend could catch her. Alya screamed and Marinette shut her eyes, peeking one open when the fluttering of a flute sounded. She smiled as a blonde boy in a fox themed outfit caught her and pulled her out of sight while an illusory image of her fell into the water below.

“Good work Princess.” Adrien whispered in her ear as she wrapped her arms around him. “Shall we head home?” She nodded silently and held onto him as they soared through Paris. She heard Alya’s cries grow more and more distant until they faded altogether and ignored how what was left of her heart tore a little more.

#ml au #ml partners in crime au #Ladybug #Chat Noir #adrinette #fox!marinette #fox!adrien #Ladybug stole the fox miraculous from Alya when Rena and Carapace tried to take back the cat and ladybug miraculouses #faked deaths #fake suicide #implied suicide #marinette has a lot of internalized anger and resentment #I'm still new to writing short fics #also i'm an edgy b*tch so I love writing death scenes apparently #I feel kinda bad for Alya #she's so traumatized ;-; #she lost a miraculous then saw her friend die then saw her best friend commit suicide #i swear i don't hate her

[meetthetank]

Maled[I]ctum pt. 2

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 4S/A2 (NieR: Automata) Characters: A2 (NieR: Automata), 4S (NieR: Automata), Anemone (NieR: Automata), Original Machine Additional Tags: bloodborne references, Blood and Gore, Robogore, little bit of eldritch nonsense, Hallucinations, Nightmares, A2 has big guilt, Post-Ending E (NieR: Automata), the smut is in chapter 2 for those who are impatient, i understand horny priorities, Hurt/Comfort

Dismantling the machine wreckage proves to be a more complicated affair than previously thought. In addition to its immense size, a large portion of the scrap is contaminated by the strange organic matter, rendering it unusable. Most of the Resistance swarms the area shortly after recovering an unconscious 4S from the wreck, along with the bizarre machine creature’s body.

He’s lucky his injuries aren’t as bad as they feel. Without the Bunker and a steady supply of new bodies and parts, the repair process takes two days. The Resistance medics and 9S work together to open up 4S and set some of his displaced components. Nothing major needs to be replaced, much to his relief, but calibrating his fine motor functions comes with a few hiccups. Something must have been knocked loose during that fight.

The moment repairs are done, 4S tears around camp asking if anyone has seen A2. He expects the repeated negative answers, but that doesn’t quell the tension building in his gut. 9S offers to help him look, but he declines. Knowing A2, she’d only be more frightened if anyone else aside from a select few went looking for her.

It isn’t unusual for A2 to disappear for a day or two, and normally 4S is happy to let her be, but this time...the way she looked at him...It doesn’t sit right. She went through something far worse than being held captive by that monster. Once he asks practically everyone at the main Resistance camp he sets out on his own.

4S searches the area near the forest castle and A2’s usual haunts. The secluded places she frequents when she needs a quiet moment to herself show no trace of her being there for a long time. No tracks, no machine corpses. Nothing. Pod 035 picks up a faint sign of activity, but it’s old and far past the forest. He’s in no condition to be tearing through the denser woods looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.

Two more days pass before 4S returns, despondent, to the Resistance camp. Just as he suspects A2 hadn’t stopped by at all, but the improbability of it all doesn’t stop the foolish hope he had as he entered the camp. He sits on a bench in the small rest area near the jukebox, listening to the twanging of some ancient human ballad.

He doesn’t notice 9S until he sits in the spot next to him. 4S jumps a little at 9S’ sudden presence but gives him a little nod shortly after.

“Still no sign of A2?” 9S asks.

4S shakes his head, “Nothing. No trail, no signals...I’m really worried about her.”

“What she lacks in everything else she makes up for in strength,” says 9S followed by a sigh and a shudder, “She’ll be okay.”

He manages to smile a bit, “I know but...she was really shaken up by...something. I want to help her but I don’t want her to feel smothered…”

“Yeah, I know the feeling…” 9S mutters, his gaze wandering to 2B as she lifts an absurdly heavy box with ease.

4S slumps in his seat and buries his head in his hands, “I get the feeling she’d never come back if I confronted her now, but…”

“You don’t want her to end up hurting herself.”

“Yeah...She’s,” 4S sighs again, then goes quiet for a long time, “...I don’t know if she’ll come back after this one…”

A lump forms in his throat as he says that, as if the words had a physical weight to them. He didn’t want to admit to himself the possibility, but it’s time for him to be honest with himself. In his head, he believed that she would be attached to him enough for that alone to bring her back his way, but...Their relationship is a bit complicated, or ambiguous to say the least.

9S puts his arm around 4S shoulders, “Of course she’ll come back. She was on the run for...Six years, was it? That can’t be a life she wants to return to.”

“I hope you’re right, Nines.”

“Here,” 9S says as he stands up, “Why don’t you help me out today? Anemone wants me to start looking at that machine creature today. Could help you take your mind off things for a while?”

4S hesitates for a moment. The memory of that...thing he and A2 fought sends chills down his spine. He has no great desire to come face to face with its malformed corpse any time soon, but 9S does have a point.

“Sure, I can lend a hand.”

It isn’t often that the medical equipment is repurposed, even temporarily, for a task away from the main Resistance camp. With materials being as limited as they are, and without the support of another group like YorHa, they need to use whatever they can. Considering this is a major discovery when it comes to machine evolution theories, Anemone allowed for a considerable amount of tools and personnel to be devoted to this.

Unfortunately, all those tools and personnel are under the command of Jackass, so 4S and 9S wait until she throws out everyone for being incompetent and then gets distracted by one of her insane personal projects.

The setup is reminiscent of a mad scientist’s lair in an old human story. Fitting, considering who was overseeing this. Various tools and recording equipment lie scattered without any care or reason, all surrounding a large table holding the machine’s corpse covered with a tarp.

4S and 9S spend a few minutes cleaning up and organizing their equipment while idly chatting about old times. They had rarely worked together in the field while YorHa was active, but the scanners were all fairly close friends in one way or another. Though, 4S had always been on the edge of that group, nowhere near the social butterfly that 9S was. He can’t help the twinge of sadness that creeps into his voice when he mentions his time in relative isolation while he was doing deep field reconnaissance.

“Right,” 9S begins, eager to switch gears for both their sakes, “Let’s get started.”

It takes their combined efforts to pull the tarp off of the body, sending the stench of rotting flesh billowing through the whole tent.

“Ugh!” 4S gags and covers his face, “Gods, it smells worse than it was alive.”

“I’ve never seen this kind of growth on a machine before,” 9S says as he covers his face with a clean towel and begins a preliminary scan of the corpse, “Aside from those two command units, Adam and Eve.”

“I thought those were one of a kind?”

9S shrugs, “It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for the machines left on Earth to try and replicate past evolutionary paths. But this one is a lot different.”

As 4S begins to separate the growth on the creature’s arm from its body, he replays the encounter and the state he found A2 in his head, “I’ve never seen a machine do things like this one could. Have you seen the Pod records?”

9S shakes his head, “I haven’t had the time. Here, why don’t you start working on that piece while I go over your footage?”

With a quick wave of his hand, 4S commands Pod 035 to display a video feed for 9S.

At first, the growth appears to be just a simple mass of metal and tissue with the occasional piece of bone. Each piece of anything that isn’t soft tissue or connected to the central metal bone is carefully cut away and placed onto a tray nearby. It seems to be only random bits and pieces of machine scrap until 4S come across a strange shape underneath layers of warped muscular tissue.

Unlike the fractured and rough textures of its counterparts, this object is smooth and rounded. A few hairline splits zigzag across its surface, yet it stays together as 4S shifts it around to cut away the connective tissue surrounding it. Once most of the flesh is cut away, 4S pries the object out with a firm tug.

A smooth, diminutive skull sits in his hands, gazing at him with hauntingly vacant sockets. It bears some resemblance to a machine head. The bolts next to the optical sockets, serial numbers and machine script carved into its surface, and unique alloy betray its true nature. However, it’s eerily android in its appearance. Or rather, eerily human. A row of half formed teeth, some pointed and some blunt, deep nasal and optical cavities, and an oblong shape show more similarities to androids than any other machine.

But as 9S pointed out before, there were two machines that were vastly different from the rest not too long ago.

4S sets the skull down on the tray, next to the other tiny, misshapen bones he had extracted from the growth. A clavicle, two humeruses, six ribs, pelvis, and an assortment of vertebrae form a sickly small skeleton.

“Hey, 4S?”

A jolt runs down his spine as he snaps back to reality, “Yeah...yeah what’s up?”

9S glances at the grim display on the tray before continuing, “I finished going over your footage.”

“Oh. Well did you see anything odd? I mean, besides everything.”

9S pulls up a stool and takes a seat near the creature’s stomach, “At first,” he begins as he starts a scan of the machine’s body, “I thought that it was an attempted copy of the Adam and Eve units, and looking at the…what you’ve extracted so far, that theory is partially right.”

4S raises an eyebrow, “...But?”

“But…” he looks down and takes a deep breath, “But there’s more in line with another machine I’ve encountered.”

“What?”

“When I handed over that enemy data back when...back a while ago, there was one bit of data that I didn’t give you because it was just…” he takes a deep breath and shudders, “I didn’t want to think it was real.”

As much as 4S’ curiosity burns in his head, he doesn’t press 9S further. The discomfort is visible in the way his eyes dart around to anything, how his eyebrows knit together, and how he grips the edge of the table.

“Listen, 4S…” he begins after a bout of tense silence, “If-...When A2 comes back, if she seems...off, be careful. When 2B and I fought that thing in the sewers, something...happened to her, and when we got back to the Resistance camp she…” Again, 9S shudders and blushes, though that might have been 4S’ imagination, “Just be careful, okay?”

4S nods, “Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

“Good.” he sighs again, “...Let’s take apart the rest of this thing. I’ll give you the enemy data when we’re done.”

A2 knows she shouldn’t feel this deep shame as she lingers in the shadows of the forest zone. Just a year ago, the thought of returning somewhere she ran from was insane; now, she’s slinking back to the castle as if she’s done something wrong.

She hasn’t done anything wrong...right?

No, of course not. She just needed some time away from...everything.

…

Gods, she was such a coward.

It wasn’t just that, in the days since the fight on the beach, it’s felt like something was itching just inside her skull or under her skin. She’s lapsed into old self destructive habits as well, like picking at the dermal seams 4S spent so much time on.

4S…

Thinking about how worried he must be about her, what he might have gone through when looking for her, or what might happen when she comes back...It makes her stomach coil like a spring so tightly she starts shivering. A2 is no stranger to guilt, but it has been some time since the feeling caused a physical reaction in her.

As the crumbling facade of the castle comes into view A2 plays with the thought of turning back. Could she really face him after all this? Would things just...go back to normal? Did she even want that? She doesn’t know what she wants. Hell, she doesn’t even know if she wants to take another step forward. Her legs lock in place, and aside from a light shiver that runs through her body, she stands so still that a little boar comes up to her and sniffs at her foot. She shoos the boar away with a gentle kick, sending the little animal squealing back to the safety of the woods.

A2 takes a deep breath. No use delaying the inevitable any longer. She forces herself to walk. Just, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. There isn’t any reason to be afraid. That doesn’t stop her from being terrified, though. She shuts her eyes and focuses on the sound of her footsteps on the crumbling stone pathway.

She expects 4S to come rushing down to her the moment she reaches the castle steps, but she only hears the soft songs of the birds that make their homes in the trees and tiny crevices in the walls. There isn’t even the echoes of him running errands, the groans of his jerry rigged terminals, or Pod 035’s made up language.

“Must be resting…” A2 mutters to herself.

Sure enough, there’s signs of activity through her home but 4S is nowhere to be found. The stray piles of supplies that she usually leaves lying around the entry hallway are all cleaned up and organized into bins and shelves nearby.

She meanders through the castle like a spectre, floating from room to room with no real goal in mind. Not looking for anything, not searching for a goal, just wandering. She flips through books in the library, accidentally knocks over some dusty suits of armor, and fiddles with anything she can to find to keep her mind from running a mile a minute.

It isn’t long, however, for those distractions to run out and eventually A2 finds herself at the threshold of her small bedroom. Like the rest of the castle, all of her stuff is rearranged and cleaned. Even her bed is made, but it isn’t the bed itself that disturbs her. Perhaps disturbed isn’t the right word, but the neatly folded set of clothes similar to the torn rags she wears now makes her feel...strange.

She rolls the cotton of the shirt in her fingers. Exactly the same as the one she wears now, albeit not torn and bloodied. It smells a bit musty, like it’s been sitting out for a few days. Her chest tightens a little, but she changes into the new clothes regardless. They stick to her grimy skin and torn seams. She mentally kicks herself for not washing first thing once she got home.

...Home…

The realization hits her like a punch from a goliath. She has a home. Something to come back to, a safe place to let her guard down and relax.  

Someone to…

She curls her hand into a fist, bunching up the fabric of her shirt. A weird tightness forms in her throat and chest it dawns on her that she’s being watched.

With wide, wary eyes, she turns back to the doorway to see 4S just...standing there. Watching her. He looks surprisingly calm, despite everything, but there’s a tension in his face that even someone as unobservant as A2 can pick up on.

A2 looks at the floor, suddenly far more interested in the brickwork than him.

“...Hey,” she says, the word catching in her throat.

His green eyes dart about, studying every detail about her that he could as quickly as possible. He lingers on the fresh wounds that begin to stain her new shirt, the way her shoulders slump with exhaustion, and the weariness in her own expression.

With great gentleness, he speaks, “...Are you hurting?”

“I’m fine-...” A2 stops herself short as a sharp pain shoots through her arm, “...I’ve been better.”

4S approaches her slowly, his dark eyebrows knitting together, “Here, let me help.”

The moment his hands touch her she flinches away, causing 4S to do the same. There’s hesitation in his grip as he lightly pulls her towards the bed and sits her down on it. A2 could swear she feels his hands shaking.

His fingers ghost over her injuries and torn skin seam as he takes stock of what ails her physically. He mutters his findings to himself while A2 stares at their feet, her head hanging low. She lets him move her arms and body as he cleans the dried blood that’s caked around her skin seams.

“Does…” 4S says, his touch lingering on her arms, “Does anything hurt internally? Any pain when you move?”

A2 shakes her head, “Just a bit sore.”

4S nods once, then allows a tense silence to fall between them. Neither one looks at the other, and neither one wants to think about why.

After moments where nothing but the stale breeze passes between them, A2 speaks up.

“I think...I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.”

“Alright. Call for me if you need anything...Okay?”

“Yeah...Of course.”

As she gets settled into bed, 4S allows himself a quick glance backwards before leaving her to her thoughts.

For a week they do this dance. With the exception of grafting new skin onto her wounds, 4S and A2 avoid each other. Sometimes, she sees him in the corner of her eye only for him to brush past with only a mumbled apology or for him to duck back out of her view. When she asks him about it during the hour or so they see each other, he waves if off as a coincidence or just making sure she’s okay. The cadence and waver in his voice tips her off to his real motive. He is checking on her, but he’s making sure she hasn’t run off again.

She can’t shake the guilt, something that seems like a constant for her. It starts eating away at her nerves and her resolve. How long would things continue like this? Would they stay this way until they both drift apart? How much longer would it be until she’s alone again. The visions and the fear from that machine creep back into her chest and constrict her lungs. It’s such a similar feeling to...before. When she watched Number 4 smile at her one last time.

Only this time she can control the outcome.

It’s much less dire, of course. 4S is in no danger of dying in a fiery explosion, but A2 feels as if she’s going to explode if things don’t go back to the comfortable and mundane. She knows 4S won’t come to her, he’s too cautious. He knows she’s skittish when it comes to...feelings, and for that she’s grateful. He’ll let her come to him when she’s ready to talk, and it might be the point of no return very soon. Whether she’s ready or not, she has to do this.

Around this time of day 4S is tinkering with one project or another in his room. Normally A2 leaves him to his work, but this is something akin to an emergency. Besides, he’s probably not working on something important or dangerous. He has a more level head on his shoulders than 9S.

A2 hesitates at the wooden door to his room, grinding her teeth as she fights with herself. It’s absurd, she already has her hand on the door and now she thinks about backing down? She’s fought with worse things than her own feelings and memories. This would be nothing. 4S is reasonable, he won’t freak out at her about any of this.

Her knock on the door echoes through the stone halls, and the few seconds before she hears 4S’ footsteps on the other side feel like an eternity. The door swings inward, revealing a grease-stained 4S staring at her with bewildered green eyes.

“A2? What’s wrong, is everything okay?” he asks, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m fine. I just…” she sighs and shuffles her way into his room, “Do you have a second to talk?”

His eyebrows shoot up, then return to normal a moment later, “Of course.”

4S gestures for her to sit on his bed (more of a cot in truth) while he pulls the chair from his workbench over and wipes his hands and face off with a rag. She pulls her knees close to her chest and curls up as tight as she can. Something to quell the shivers that emanate from her gut.

“I wanted to talk about the shit that happened with that weird machine…” she mumbles, avoiding eye contact, “I just...don’t know where to start.”

He watches her expressions shift from anger, to sadness, and back within the span of a split second, “Maybe...When I found you, you looked like you were in some kind of trance. What was that? What was happening to you?”

A2 winces at the memory, “The damn thing hijacked me. Made me see things...feel things that weren’t there. It made me…,” she shudders, “It must have messed with every sensor that still works.”

4S shuffles closer to her, “What did it make you see?”

“Its…,” she groans and buries her face in her hands, “It...It made me see Number 4. The whole squad. They…,”

He takes one of her hands in his, “It’s okay…” he mutters gently and rubs her hand.

“They tore me apart.” she says in a lifeless voice, her eyes glassy and unfocused, “The visions tore me apart piece by piece. They drowned me, beat me, blamed…” she can’t stop the tears from welling up, “They blamed their deaths on me...and they’re right.”

“A2…”

“They were right. If I wasn’t a coward, if I fought with them-”

“You’d be dead too, A2.” 4S says sternly, holding her hand just a bit tighter, “You’d be dead along with them.”

“But-”

“No. I won’t sit by and let you blame yourself anymore for what happened in the past. I don’t care what that machine made you see or made you think you saw, but none of that was your fault and none of them blame you for what happened!”

A2 opens her mouth and shuts it just as quickly as she tries to formulate some sort of counter. She tries to draw her hands close to her body but 4S’ grip remains strong and holds them in place. His green eyes hold her gaze even as she tries to look at anything but him. Anything to avoid showing weakness, anything to not break down.

She fails spectacularly.

Tears pool in her eyes and spill over within seconds. Her synthetic muscles give out all at once as she collapses in a heap in 4S’ arms. Brutal, silent sobs rip through her body with such intensity that she begins to shake and shudder. 4S holds onto her as tight as he can without hurting her. He rubs her shoulders and back with a soothing yet heavy hand, while his other hand combs through her short hair. Gentle refermations of her safety and soft whispers seem to calm her quaking body after a moment. She grips onto his shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat.

A2’s breathing starts to even out and at first 4S thinks that she’s beginning to wind down, but then her quiet sniffling turns to growls. Her nails dig into the skin of 4S’ chest, and 9S’ warning starts to play over and over in his head. Despite himself, fear begins to worm its way through his gut. A2 is strong. Far stronger than he is. If something went wrong, if something possessed her to, she could kill him by barely lifting a finger.

Yet he takes hold of her trembling hands and the low snarls in the back of her throat stop. Her hands tremble in his, and her wide, fearful eyes let him know that none of that was intentional. 4S leans forward and rests his forehead on hers with her hands still clasped tightly in his.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispers, “A2 look at me.”

She tries to look at anything but him to no avail. Everything in her body tells her to run away. Get away from these bad feelings and shitty memories and hide in the wilderness until she breaks down for good. But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to leave him, she doesn’t want to be alone again. She can’t be alone again.

Slowly, her eyes meet his. In her head she prepares for the inevitable flashbacks those deep green eyes of his give her, but instead of seeing the eyes of Number 4, his face remains his own.

“You’re okay, A2,” he mutters to her, “I promise I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

She snorts and rubs at her puffy red eyes, “Idiot, I should be protecting you.”

“There she is,” 4S breaks out in a smile, “There’s that brash moron.”

“Shut up.”

4S gets caught in their moment kisses A2 on the cheek, just beneath her eye. This isn’t the first time they’ve kissed, not by a long shot, but it is the first time that it’s felt so...natural? He supposes that’s the word for it. In the past it had been bouts of passion that broke free of restraints on both their sides, but it never went further than that. This time the simple gesture caused a comforting warmth to bloom in his chest. Judging by A2’s tired smile, she felt something similar.

“A2…” he begins, their closeness loosening his desire to hold back what’s on his mind, “I know that...I know I’m not Number 4 but-”

She pulls back from him, her brows knitting together, “Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop comparing yourself to her,” an icy determined glare warps her expression. For the first time in weeks, strength returns to her, “Number 4 is gone. You’re not her, you’re never going to be, and....I don’t want you to be. I want you to be you.”

4S tries to blink away the tears, “It only took a near death experience, huh?”

“Oh, shut up!” she shouts. She slugs him in the shoulder playfully and puffs out her cheeks after he catches her face in his hands again. “You’re an ass.”

“Hey, you’re not doing anything to stop me,” teases 4S. He kisses her cheek once again.

He immediately regrets saying that. In a show of speed and strength, A2 pulls him into a tight hug and flings them both onto the bed. 4S struggles, but he’s no match for the combat model’s strength. She holds him down as they laugh at themselves and the absurd turn their heavy conversation took. A2 digs her knuckles into his scalp to the sounds of his protesting as he flails his arms and legs in a wild attempt to break free.

Eventually she lets him go, the fatigue of an outburst of emotion catching up with her body. She fails to suppress a yawn and 4S chuckles at her sudden exhaustion. He rolls off of her and curls up against her side as she settles into bed.

“Tired?” he asks.

A2 nods, “Mhm...Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Okay.” 4S starts to sit up, “I’ll let you rest.”

He’s about to stand up from the bed, when A2’s hand grabs onto his wrist and tugs him back down.

“Huh?”

“S…,” she seems to choke on her own words and looks uncharacteristically vulnerable, “Can you...stay?”

“...Of course,” he says with a warm smile.

Sleeping with A2 is...a full body experience. 4S had his expectations, sweetly snuggled up against her and curled in her arms. Or her in his, either way would work for him. Instead, he’s treated to erratic movements, constant tossing and turning, and nearly being shoved off of the bed multiple times. Yet despite this, they end up in a semi-comfortable position for both of them, although 4S believes it was entirely by accident. Sharing a bed was, in truth, something they would have to learn how to do.

4S is unsure how much time has actually passed by the time he starts to wake up, though it couldn’t have been more than a few hours judging by the fact that his Pod’s alarm hadn’t gone off yet. A2 remains asleep, wrapped around him with her chest pressing against his back. Her breathing is light and steady, and tickles at the back of his neck.

She’s so...warm. The way her hands mold to the shape of his chest and stomach…

A deep, tightening pain in his gut makes him flinch, and brings him to agonizing consciousness. Glancing down at the odd bulge in the sheets, just between his legs, reveals source of his discomfort.

What a useless feature… 4S muses to himself.

Carefully, 4S shuffles out of A2’s arms, doing all he can to avoid waking her and to avoid letting her hands drift further down. He winces with each movement, even the fabric of his shorts rubbing against his erection sends jolts up his spine.

The moment he’s free of A2’s hold, he rises from the bed centimeter by centimeter so as not to shift the ratty mattress too much. All he has to do is make it out of the room without waking her and make his way to somewhere secluded to take care of this issue. Of course he could always attempt to sleep it off, but with how awake he is at the moment he doesn’t think it’ll be possible.

It’s only when success is nearly in his grasp that it is snatched away from him.

“Hey...Where’r you going?” A2’s grumbles in a raspy voice heavy with sleep.

Synthetic blood rushes up to his face one moment and then back down the next, “Uh...J-just going to stretch my legs a bit.”

“...What’s wrong. You sound nervous.”

Oh , of all the times, why did it have to be now that she learns to be observant?

“I’m fine,” 4S tries to maintain an even level to his voice.

“Why are you standing all hunched over like that?”

Her questions are just as pointed and cutting as her swords. 4S sighs. He always underestimates her intelligence, seeing as she’s not only a prototype model but a combat model as well. They’re not exactly known for being as capable as scanners when it comes to...really anything that isn’t killing. Yet she’s pinpointed exactly what he’s trying to hide. The heavy, almost icy tone to her voice convinces him that she doesn’t need him to explain his current state, but instead beckons him to come forward about it.

“Come here.”

Her sudden confidence makes him shiver.

4S turns back to her and returns to the bed with slow, plodding steps. The way her icy blue eyes roam over his body make him feel exposed, naked, despite being fully clothed. There’s a shift in her expression as he approaches though. At first she looks at him like an old world predator eyes a slab of meat, but as he sits on the edge of the bed the confidence falls away piece by piece.

“A2…”

His breath is heavy in his throat as he reaches out to cup her face in one of his hands. Her warmth is infectious, her breath just as heavy as his. Despite the way her eyes hold his with an intensity he’s rarely seen outside of battle, he can feel the subtle way she shivers with each breath.

“Are you...sure?” he asks, hoping that he’s understanding what all of this means. In the past she’s been reluctant to even touch at moments, why is she suddenly doing this?

Was this what 9S meant by strange behavior?

A2 nods, “Yeah...But I um...How does...this...start?”

A wave of relief hits him. She’s not under some strange control or in a damaged frame of mind. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he took advantage of her like this.

4S smiles, “Just follow my lead, okay?”

Their kiss starts out tender, soft even. A2 recoils back, but leans into it only moments later. Her hands start to wander around their bodies as if she’s not sure what to do with them. Without breaking their admittedly awkward kiss, 4S takes her hands in his and places one on his neck, and the other in his hair. Her fingers immediately hook into his curly hair and pull him closer than he thought possible. Heat rises in his gut once more, spurring him to push things further faster.

4S leans back against the bed’s headboard and pulls A2 onto his lap. For a minute or so, things continue much in the same way as they had before. Position aside, their kissing is rather tame. Chaste even. Simply savoring each other’s warmth and the way their mouths move in tandem. But there’s a desperate edge to A2, in the way she moves and her labored breathing. She wants more, she needs more. She just doesn’t know how to take it.

So, 4S parts his lips and in turn hers. With his tongue he tests her bit by bit, prodding at her lips, her teeth, her tongue, whatever he can reach. Her hand tightens in his hair to the point of discomfort, yet it doesn’t bother 4S in the slightest. In fact it seems to intensify just how good everything feels right now. A tiny whimper escapes from the back of his throat as she tugs on his hair a second time.

A2 suppresses a grunt, or a moan, or something in her throat. She grinds against him so slowly that 4S isn’t sure if she realizes what she’s doing. Carefully, he returns her motions, raising his hips to meet hers beat for beat in a clumsy rhythm. Fingernails dig into the skin of his neck when his teeth scrape against her lips, so he breaks their kiss to gently bite her lower lip.

She gasps, her breath ghosting over his face for a moment before he leans in and nibbles at the underside of her jaw. Another gasp as he slides one hand beneath her thin shirt and traces the outline of her muscles and lines of carbon plates barely concealed by synthetic flesh. A2 doesn’t normally shake in situations outside of life threatening combat, but her body trembles beneath his touch.

There’s a strange shift in A2’s movements when 4S begins to leave small bite marks down her neck and to her shoulder. He can feel the thundering of her pulse quicken as he clumsily grabs at her breasts. Between the blood roaring in his ears and the amplified sound of their bodies, he doesn’t hear the low rumbling from A2’s chest until it’s too late.

Her mouth traps his suddenly, pushing him back until his head smacks against the headboard. His shirt and shorts are all but torn from his body by A2’s desperate hands. The cool air of the castle makes him shiver all over. A groan catches in his throat but is quickly silenced by A2 climbing on top of him further. She practically towers over him now, ravaging his mouth and hungrily grinding down on his now exposed cock.

Like the flip of a switch, A2 goes from unsure to ravenous. Both her hands tangle themselves in his hair, holding him down and kissing up and down his neck. He feels the scrape of her teeth against one of the taught tendons in his neck once, twice, and then they clamp down around it. An intense jolt runs through his whole body. His back arches, hips thrust up, and a sharp whimper escapes him. She bites him again, worrying the skin of his neck between her teeth and eliciting more moans and cries from him.

4S isn’t sure when the tears start to form in his eyes, but his body becomes so overwhelmed with the pain and pleasure that it's the only reflex he can manage. He gulps down lungfuls of air the moment A2 pulls back off of him just a bit, removing the pressure from his chest. There’s something in A2’s eyes, something that 4S can’t place. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and lids half closed. He’s never seen this look from her before and it makes him feel...strange. There’s fear, that one is easy to identify, but there’s also...excitement. His gut coils as A2 shuffles out of her tank top and shorts.

This was really happening, wasn’t it…

4S always pictured this being more planned and careful, and without the fear for his life that nags in the back of mind. Of course he wants this, and he knows A2 wants this.

But did he want this to go so fast?

A2 tugs him up to her lips by his hair.

Oh god yes he wants this.

He moans against her mouth and ruts his hips into hers. There’s a brief but powerful sensation that shoots up his spine when his cock presses against the space between her legs. A2 must have felt something similar as she groans against his mouth. One of her hands rakes down his stomach and grips onto his cock far too tightly.

“Ah!!”

A2 recoils back, that dark look in her eyes fading instantly, “Shit! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah-...Yeah I’m okay…” he pants, “Just...gentle. Be gentle with...that.”

When that half-lidded look doesn’t come back immediately, 4S pulls her down for a quick kiss and takes her hand in his. He guides her hand back down to his cock and starts to move it up and down as slowly as possible at first. Once she gains her confidence back his hand falls away only to rise back up again to tangle in her hair.

Most scanners do this sort of thing by themselves, but oh god does it feel so much better when someone else does it to him. Especially someone he cares about. He does his best not to jerk his hips into her hand too fast, and the exertion of self control makes him pant and sweat. In response A2 strokes him longer, harsher, pushing him to the point of pain again. He throws his head back against the pillows and lets out a long, loud moan that he’s sure he heard A2 laugh quietly at.

There’s a spot that A2 ghosts her thumb over that makes him almost scream, and the tight coils in his stomach threaten to unwind right then and there. It’s only through gritting his teeth and focusing on anything but how fucking good it all feels that he’s able to not come.

“A2…,” he says in between heavy pants, “A2, please…”

“What.”

He shoots her a scowl, though it isn’t as intimidating as he’d like since he’s blushing and sweaty, “What do you mean what,” he growls.

She smirks at him, that heavy, dark-eyed look returns, and she sinks down onto his cock without warning.

“F-Fuck!” he shouts, “A2!”

She hisses through her teeth as she adjusts to having him inside her. 4S is about to ask her if she’s okay but the words catch in his throat when she shifts her hips. He isn’t sure if his visual processors are failing or if A2 managed to hack him somehow, but he swears that stars and sparks fly across his eyes. He throws his head back into the pillows again and lets out a moan that’s much louder than he intends it to be.

“Where-...” 4S tries to say as she raises herself off of him and slides back down, “Where did you- Haa….Learn-...”

“What,” responds A2 in between pants, “You think your-...ngh...Your stash of h-...human mating behaviors are...Haaa...Secret?”

“Well...I did until now.”

A2 laughs a breathy laugh that sends waves of strange pleasure through both of their bodies, “Next time, label that file as something boring.”

“Ugh, just shut up and fuck me.”

They find their rhythm, clumsily and slowly, but eventually they fall in sync with each other. Every time A2 raises herself off of his cock, he pulls himself back so that all but the very tip remains in, only to slam their hips back together. Each time, A2 crushes her body against his harder and harder until he’s afraid that she might break his pelvic chassis. Well, not for long anyway. Once the wet and the hot overtake his mind again, the soreness fades into the background.

4S meets her beat for beat, thrust for thrust. He tries new angles and methods to try and force her to cry out in pleasure, much like he does. It’s...strangely awkward to him, to be the only one making noise. A rigid spot on the front of her walls makes her groan and gasp so he aims for that again and again and again, but it all falls to the wayside once his pace reaches a feaverish, desperate peak.

His hands latch onto her hips, fingernails digging into the curve of her waist and giving him the leverage he needs to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into her. Her hands grip his wrists, her chest heaves with each labored breath. The way her walls constrict around his dick lets him know that they’re both within sight of the end. For now.

4S’ mind devolves into simple lines of code. Single words, simple actions, and blinding speed. Anything higher than repeating the actions that bring him and A2 this intense pleasure are tossed aside.

Hunger. Need.

More.

More

M o r e

M  o re moremoremoremoremoremoreMORe.

Suddenly, A2 gasps and grabs his shoulders so hard that he’s shaken from his stupor. Her whole body heaves with each breath she takes. 4S swears he can hear her teeth grinding against each other and the wanton moans she desperately tries to suppress. If he wasn’t consumed with primal repetition he might have tried to edge those sounds out of her, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from coming each time he thrusts into her.

4S slows to a crawl, letting himself linger inside of her. It takes all of his willpower to pull out once, twice, and on the third he can hold back no longer. All of the tension in his gut releases as A2 lets out this long breathy sound. She’s still holding the moans back, but he can’t contain the moan that echoes through their room. Something in the back of his mind tells him he should be embarrassed, but he could care less right now. He revels in the circuit-melting euphoria for as long as he can before he has to breathe and bring himself back to reality.

A2 looks down at him with dark, half-lidded eyes. Her face, flushed red, covered in sweat, is hidden by the white hair that clings to her skin.

He’s never seen anything more fascinating.

As she gracelessly flops onto the bed beside him, he can’t help but feel a twinge of disgust at the white, sticky mess that covers the bed and parts of their bodies. Maybe it’s a quirk with scanner models, but he hates being dirty.

He nudges A2 in the ribs with an elbow, and she cracks one eye open at him in a tired, half-hearted glare.

“We should clean up,” he says.

A2 just scoffs, and rolls over on her side, taking as many blankets as she can with her, “If you can carry me, go for it.”

4S sighs, and lays back against the sweat stained pillows.

He’s never been more infatuated with her.

#nier atuomata #nier automata fanfiction #A2 #4S #A24S

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, ROSE! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Emmeline Vance. Not only was your application entirely true to their character, but you made them your own and even threw in a few surprises for me. Emmeline being there when their mother was taken is a great addition, and I think explains a bit about who they are now. I also loved how you explored their empathy, which as you said, may not be a trait others would use to describe them, but nevertheless is completely present in who they are.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: rose

age: 21

preferred pronouns: she/her and they/them are both good!

timezone: est

activity: I’m currently only working part time over the summer so I’ll be around pretty often- I’ll definitely be around to lurk on the dash/chat at some point every day, and will do replies as soon as I can, likely within 1-2 days depending on how many threads I have going etc

how do you feel about your character dying?: ouch. But, in all seriousness, death is a grim reality of war, and Emmeline is certainly prepared to die if it means taking some death eaters down with them. Also I’m always down for some angst

anything else?: nope nope, just a congratulations on running what looks like a really lovely rp and a thanks for reading this :)

character details.

full name: Emmeline Vance

date of birth: 25th August, 1956

former hogwarts house: Slytherin

sexuality: pansexual, but with a slight preference for women

gender/pronouns: Non-binary, they/them. Emmeline’s relationship with gender is a long and complicated one. They are their parent’s first and only child, and considering the pressure of their high social status to continue the family line and name, Em being, in the eyes of their parents, a baby girl, tempered the joy of their child’s arrival. They reassured themselves that there were other Vances out there, and little Emmeline would in time be married off and at the very least perpetuate their good, pure, blood. The lingering sense that they had somehow failed their parents straight out of the womb complicated Em’s relationship with gender from a young age, but when they eventually began openly identifying as non-binary it was a decision made solely and decisively for themself.

Em never really felt particularly like a girl, but they also weren’t sure what else they could be, sheltered as they were as a child- not from horror and darkness but from anything challenging the status quo. They didn’t discover that they could be something other than a girl or a boy until part way through Hogwarts, and didn’t start introducing themself with a mention of their pronouns until the day that they packed the best of nineteen years into a single suitcase and marched into the Ministry of Magic and got themself a job. In a way they were seeking control through the change, asserting a part of themself that their father had never known and therefore leaving him in the past.

face claim change: I’m very happy with Jessica Henwick!

more.

i. personality

Paranoid: Em has been looking over their shoulder since their mother was kidnapped when they were a child, and has been looking over their shoulder in their own home since it sunk in that their father might value some things over them and their safety. Em has been weaving a net of protective charms around wherever they happen to be sleeping since they were seventeen, and the shield has only grown in complexity over time. When they followed the Order to Godric’s Hollow, Em sought out a small and defensible cottage with no immediate neighbors. Flanked by crumbling and abandoned houses, Em feels safer alone, especially at night. Emmeline’s paranoia is rooted in trauma, and in many ways is practical- they live in a world at war, after all, and there are plenty of people out there who would like to kill them, but it is also a definite weakness of theirs. It drives them to seclude themself, which doesn’t do much to inspire confidence in the rest of the Order, and has meant that they’ve never really managed to have a notable romantic relationship with another person. The idea of trusting someone else enough to let them behind their very literal shields seems incomprehensible, and yet Em sometimes finds themself almost longing for companionship. But they’ve been lonely for a very, very long time. It’s just the way life is.

Obsessive: Whether it’s their current project in dismantling a particularly nasty curse or their quest for vengeance, Emmeline throws themself into their work with everything they have. It’s what made them the best cursebreaker in the Ministry, what brought the Order before them, what keeps them sane. Em never stops. They have scrolls of parchment  with lists of every object they can remember their father ever cursing, with every bit of information they can remember about the curse scrawled below in small, tight letters. The list is crowned by their father’s most beautifully monstrous curse, and Em will not rest until they eradicate them all. As it stands, too few have a line through them. When they read, they read something useful, something that might connect two dots somewhere, and everything else they do is earnestly purposeful. Idleness is dangerous. Of course, their obsessiveness also means that they have trouble letting anything go, pursuing problems with a dogged tenacity even if the argument is over and done with, or the curse is already broken.

Intelligent: It was their brain that allowed Emmeline to carve out a place for themself in relative safety eventually, their intellect and ability which allowed them to escape from the world of the death eaters. They are a phenomenal cursebreaker, and have accumulated a vast understanding of magical theory and runes as a result. Em is a well of knowledge, all of which they’ve offered unselfishly to the Order. They much prefer when their help draws from their knowledge as opposed to their memories, but they’ll recount either if it might further the cause. Their intelligence spans beyond just the academic, however. Em is witty, with a quick sort of gallows humor that comes accompanied by a quiet smile.

Empathetic: Hardly anyone would list empathy as one of Emmeline Vance’s obvious character traits. They were quiet, and clever, oddly reserved, a little bit blunt, bitter. They were fierce and bold and decisive, ready to defend their ideas with rapid fire arguments and explanations, delivered in a tone that practically dared to be disagreed with. No one would think to call Emmeline Vance empathetic because there was danger in showing anyone anything soft, and if Em knew anything it was how to protect themself. And yet, Em had never quite had the hardness it seemed everyone else in their pureblood circles possessed, that willingness to let atrocities happen, or participate in them personally, just to advance their power. Em listened at the door as Voldemort talked to their father, and all they could think of was the people behind the hissed mudbloods and muggles, the blood behind the sneer in squibs. Their doubt in Voldemort’s cause grew from empathy, and that remained the core of their resistance even after the empathy was joined by pain and a burning drive for vengeance. Emmeline is a deeply empathetic person, but that’s not anything anyone else needs to know.

ii. the story so far

Emmeline was seven when their mother was kidnapped. Just young enough that no one had told them anything, just old enough that they remembered everything. It was common knowledge by the time they went to Hogwarts, already steely-eyed at eleven, that Emmeline Vance’s mother had been gruesomely murdered because their father hadn’t paid her ransom, but very few knew that Em had been there when it happened. They’d been out walking in a park, quiet and secluded, and Em had chased a group of pixies that had flown off with their stuffed hippogriff. They reemerged from a shrub, disheveled but victorious, just in time to see the curse hit their mother’s back and the men whisk her away with the sickening pop of side-along apparition. And that was the last time they saw their mother.

When the people started to come, knocking on the door and fawning over Em with pitying politeness before pulling out a wicked looking knife, or a jewel encrusted bracelet, Emmeline had dutifully let them in, and smiled at their compliments, and watched with rapt attention as their father twisted the objects’ essences into something dark and malignant and clever. They never saw the repercussions of their father’s creations, only the mastery and intellect that went into the birth of the things, benign on the worktable. As much as Em hates to think of their father still out there somewhere drawing breath, they never learned so much in so short a time as in those years before Hogwarts. And they never expected, then, that they were learning exactly how to pluck apart the intricate tangle of those same curses while watching their father braid them into being.

And then they’d gone to Hogwarts, and their destiny was drawn out before them in permanent ink, clear as anything. They were sorted into Slytherin, and they were clever and good at their classes, and they accidentally killed a plant in herbology but shone in ancient runes. And behind all the routine of Hogwarts, were everything was meant to be tinted by optimism and hope, truths Emmeline knew intimately waited, oozing a darkness so black it was almost red.

They were dragged out of their bed at seventeen, woken by hands and heavy breathing and Emmeline had struggled and screamed, thrashing uselessly as the lingering effects of deep sleep battled with a fierce rush of adrenaline. Em still dreams of that night, sometimes, waking up nauseated by terror. Mercifully, their dreams rarely make it all the way to their father’s desk. It’s worse when the night conjures up the way their father had looked down with hollow eyes before dripping fire down their arm.

Hogwarts had lost it’s luster after that summer. Emmeline had spent the remaining month at their father’s home sleepless and harried by seemingly random experiments on the mark that stood starkly on their forearm, twisting something in their heart whenever they caught a glimpse of it. They had taken it quietly, spending hours being poked and prodded, or consumed by pain when Voldemort deigned to check in on his prototype and pressed his finger into the pictorial curse. There had been no other choice. They were barely of age, they had nowhere to go.  

Those, it turned out, were some of Emmeline’s darkest days, and nothing was more demoralizing than realizing that there was no safe place for them to run. Nearly everyone they knew was, if not explicitly aligned with Voldemort, then something of an implicit supporter, and anyone else they could plead for help from (with low chances of success, marked as they were) would gain a target on their backs too. Their only escape would be by their own hands, and their only respite could be through their own power. The Ministry, when Em eventually found themself there armed with a suitcase, their wand, and a life full of curses, was a means to an end.

Freedom was perhaps too strong a word, but Voldemort never came knocking, and their father didn’t send any owls. Em waited for them anyway, and threw themself into their work with everything they had, finding a sort of catharsis in breaking curses while somewhere out there their father was making them. The pay allowed them to scrape by, and Em wasn’t happy, but then again they didn’t think that happy was something they could be, anymore.

By the time Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody asked for their first favor, Em had carved out a space for themself in the Ministry’s curse breaking department, but the running was taking it’s toll. The knowing was eating at them. They were gone, had slipped out from under Voldemort’s thumb, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some other unlucky kid wrapped up in things too big for them. Em had escaped, but there were still terrible men out there capable of doing terrible things, damn the consequences. Emmeline was no hero, but fuck men who thought that the world was theirs to ruin, everyone else just game pieces, experiments, and target practice. When Shacklebolt and Moody’s favors grew into an invitation into something bigger, Em had felt some open wound within them close, two puzzle pieces locking together. The Order might need Em’s skills, but Em needs the Order just as much.

Was it any wonder, then, that they threw themself into their work for the Order with a sort of abandon that would be called reckless were they not so analytical? Em was among the first in the Order’s ranks, but four years on, they’re still haunted by their past. Darkness clings, lurking while they dismantle a curse by thinking of how their father would build it, bubbling up when they let a curse fly and feel sickeningly pleased by the way the robed bodies hit the floor.

iii. present day

Slotting the detritus of their life into place in the smallest cottage left standing in the bit of Godric’s Hollow the Order had carved out as their new home had taken a pitiful ten minutes. Em had resolutely focused on the efficiency created by the limiting of their belongings rather than the faint hint of regret that they had so little to show for their twenty-six hard fought years. Living out of a suitcase had served them well in that earth-shattering year (though they’d all been earth-shattering to varying degrees for too long now), what felt like decades ago, and it would, they had told themself, serve them well now. They didn’t need the luxuries that had been left behind in the scrambling chaos of the aftermath of 1981. There had been books they’d accumulated once they’d stopped hopping from flat to shitty flat every month like clockwork, criss-crossing the area in and around London, covering their tracks as if they couldn’t be cornered and offed somewhere in the bowels of the Ministry any time they went into work. Books, and records, and stupid nick-nacks. Gone now, abandoned as they downsized back to one suitcase almost on reflex. They’d fled once, now they were just retracing their steps.

Em can’t fault the Order for running. It would be hypocritical, if nothing else, but also with their ranks depleted and those who remain rocked by shock and grief, to do anything but hide for the time being could very well end in yet another blood bath. But at the same time, Em itches to be back on the front lines, capitalizing on the fact that Voldemort’s side suffered losses too. Sitting on their hands is all well and good, but Em isn’t convinced they’ll be able to lick their wounds for much longer.

Chittock’s broadcast would’ve left them with a smug smile, a silent told you so, if it weren’t for the fact that Em was well aware there were plenty who would hear the warning that not everyone was to be trusted and look at them, a pureblood and a Slytherin with a mark on their arm, damning them to darkness. The war is inescapable, as far as Em is concerned. At least it is for them. They’ll keep fighting until they die or there’s no more fighting to be done.

#hp rp #lsrpg #marauders rp #rp #hp roleplay #accepted