#chapter 4 staring me in the face the closer ive been getting towards it during my reread like 'ooooo im gonna fuck u up SO BAD'

[lululeighsworld]

"Softly, softly, he hummed an old soldier's cadence as her fists balled in his hair by the nape of his neck."

#leigh reads yrmr #chapter 4 staring me in the face the closer ive been getting towards it during my reread like 'ooooo im gonna fuck u up SO BAD' #IT HURTS SO BAD. BUT THE EMOTIONAL PAY OFF IS SO GOOD #the entire fucking scene is just so well written cuz you're panicking there with him #AND THEN. WHEN SHE FINALLY WAKES UP. AND YOU'RE LIKE /OH/. YEAH. THIS IS EXACTLY HOW THEY'RE MEANT TO BE #i just love the lil peak into what their lives are like when the walls come down #gross sobbing gross sobbing gross sobbingggggggg #also pulling out my fave 'gunter's singing voice sounds like [insert examples here]' for this scene

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 5 - zuko x fem!reader

I can go anywhere I want, I can go anywhere just not home

part 4 | masterlist | part 6

a/n: this was hard to get going but once i got to the end the words just flowed. ive come to the conclusion that writing dialogue with katara is my favorite thing to do

warning(s): nightmare at the beginning, survivor's guilt from y/n, some internalized homophobia :-( but aside from that its mostly fluff

wc: 3.6k

chapter title comes from my tears ricochet by taylor swift!

She was trapped.

It was a prison of never ending hallways in some kind of infinite void, complete with the rank stench of death and an innate feeling of hopelessness.

Y/N knew this place. It had been the subject of her nightmares on countless occasions, because it was where she was supposed to be. She had no choice but to start down the pathway of cracked stone — she knew what awaited her, but it was the only way out. She had developed some sick sense of awareness in this nightmare and it didn’t do her any favors.

She began to walk hastily down the path, the itch of paranoia already plaguing the back of her mind. Countless times she had been here, and yet it never got better.

Before Y/N knew it, she had reached her unwanted destination. The first tangible thing in what felt like miles was a prison cell, and she pushed forward despite knowing what awaited her. It was the only way.

“It wasn’t the only way.”

She froze, inhaling sharply as the dreamscape seemed to pull her thoughts out of her mind, and she forced herself to take another step closer, the inhabitant of the cell now visible.

“You did this to me.”

It was her mother, but… not quite her. Her voice strained and stiff, a gaunt appearance with cruel eyes, hunched over in a prison cell. Any sign of the woman Y/N knew her as was gone, and it was her fault. She was the reason Kura was gone — a mother’s ultimate sacrifice because her daughter was too stuck in her head.

“How could you do this to me?” she asked. “How could you be so selfish?”

Y/N tried to respond, but she couldn’t. It was no use anyway — her words would’ve come out in broken, pleading rambles to someone who couldn’t hear a thing. She knew it was fake, she knew this was a nightmare, but it still hurt all the same.

She had imagined her mother saying those words to her so many times they had found their way into her nightmares despite knowing that Kura would never utter a single syllable true to her fears. She had all but killed her mother, and instead of remembering her for what she had done for Y/N, she appeared in her nightmares.

She was a horrible daughter.

She heard footsteps and whirled around, instinctively taking a step back and wincing as her back slammed into the bars. A tall, dark figure creeped towards her and her breath caught in her throat — as it came into the light, she recognized him as the Fire Lord.

He chuckled coldly as he neared ever closer, the path he walked turning to flames behind him. Her eyes darted around for an escape only to find that everything was on fire. It was suffocating, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and when she turned to look for her mother she was gone. Everything was gone, her dark void now a prison of flames.

She turned around once more and Ozai was right in front of her, the fire in his hands glowing red hot and a cruel smile on his lips.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

-

She shot up in her bed, a scream on the edge of her lips but just barely managing to hold it back. Ragged breaths were ripped from her chest, her eyes shooting around wildly as she attempted to find anything at all to ground her. It took a few minutes, but with repeated mantras of it was just a dream and you are safe, she was able to calm down.

She pulled her knees to her chest and exhaled long and deep before pulling herself out of bed. It seemed that her day was going to be starting much earlier than planned.

Four years had passed since her arrival at the Northern Water Tribe, but the nightmares never ceased. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she had done the right thing, that it was what her mother wanted, that if she stayed she would’ve died — she was constantly haunted by her past actions and memories of the Fire Nation.

She hasn’t taken off the necklace since her mother gave it to her, no matter what she does. It’s almost become a part of her now — a memory of Kura and her selflessness that knew no bounds, as well as a grim reminder of what it cost to get her here.

The Northern Water Tribe itself held countless memories of her mother — after all, it was where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. Her name was well known throughout the tribe with nobles and elders alike, and it amazed Y/N to no end the impact that her mother left everywhere she went. She loved hearing stories about her mother and what she was like as a child, but it was always bittersweet.

She always carried an inherent sense of guilt with her because of who she lived with — her mother hadn’t been lying when she said that the necklace would get them to help her. Kura’s parents still lived in the tribe, and they had taken Y/N in after she revealed who she was. They loved her unconditionally and never made her feel like a burden, but Y/N would be lying to herself if she didn’t think they blamed her for the fate that befell her mother.

After all, she did.

She had never told anyone the full story of why she ran though. It was one thing to leave her mother behind for certain death because of the Fire Lord’s rage, it was another thing to admit that it was wholly her fault because she had fallen for a prince.

Zuko.

Not a day went by where she didn’t think of him. She still held the hope that she would see him again someday, but in lieu of travel she turned to letters.

Y/N had a shelf full of unmailed letters addressed to both Zuko and her mother — it was a way to get out her emotions whenever she was feeling particularly homesick or hopeless, and it did help at first, but after four years it had become something born out of habit rather than necessity.

She still wrote them though — Y/N had learned to hold onto any form of hope she could muster up, no matter how small, and in this moment she needed some.

She opened her shelf and rifled through piles upon piles of letters, some finished, some hardly started, and some crumpled from fits of rage, and her breath caught in her throat when her fingers brushed something different. Y/N pulled the material out and nearly started crying right then and there.

It was an unbelievably simple patch of fabric, but it meant the world to her — something that she had bought during her last night with Zuko, and one of the only pieces of material to have survived her journey to the Northern Water Tribe. She was forced to sell the rest of the fabric she had brought with her in order to make some easy money while on the run, but she had kept this as a memento. She could almost be brought back to the final sunset they shared if she looked at it for long enough.

Y/N bit down hard on her lip to stop the tears and shoved it back into the drawer before closing it and leaving her room in a haste. Sometimes she wasn’t strong enough to handle the memories.

She made her way to the living room and let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the silence. Y/N had never told her grandparents about the nightmares, and right now she just needed some time to herself. Never before was she so thankful for her grandmother’s gossiping nature and her grandfather’s work than she was in the mornings where she just wanted to be alone.

She sat down on the floor, not even bothering to get a cushion, and stared at her hands. Once smooth and untouched by the world, they were now rough and calloused with wrapped bandages resting just below her wrist. Permanent memories of what it took to get here. The ever present reminder that nothing came without a cost.

This morning seemed to be one full of yearning for the past. Y/N tried to shake her feelings off and got up once more, contemplating some steamed sea prunes before deeming it fruitless. Her appetite was lacking after her trip down memory lane.

She walked back to her room and got dressed hastily then ran out the door, but not before plucking a gift from her shelf. Today marked the birthday of a certain princess, and Y/N had to go fast if she was going to get it to her before class.

She was immediately hit by the frigid air of the North, pulling her anorak tighter around her frame as she began to run to the canals — one could always find Princess Yue there in the mornings — doing her best to avoid anyone else walking.

Y/N saw Yue just about to board one of the boats and sped up, waving one of her arms as a signal. “Yue, wait!”

She turned and her face immediately brightened up at the sight of Y/N, raising her open palm so the boatman would hold up. “Y/N! Would you like to join me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Yue’s nod prompted a shrug as she dropped down carefully into the gondola, taking extra care not to drop her gift, and took a seat next to her friend.

“This is a nice surprise,” Yue smiled as the boatman began to waterbend, effectively moving their gondola through the canal. “But if I might ask, what brought you here so early?”

Y/N laughed, thinking her reason for coming here obvious. “It’s your birthday, princess! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to wish you well in person?”

Her smile grew even brighter, the corners of her eyes creasing up in the way that made some kind of warmth blossom in Y/N’s chest. “Thank you! That’s so sweet — I’m especially honored that you woke up early just for me.”

“Of course.” Y/N brandished the gift she had been doing her best to hide, unable to do the same for her own smile. “And here’s your gift! I sewed it all myself.”

Yue gasped as she took the creation, giving it a slight squeeze and a thorough investigation before absolutely beaming. “You made me an otter penguin— oh, you know how much I love these!”

She wrapped Y/N in a tight hug before pulling away, but it was just long enough for the heat to rush to her cheeks. “Thank you so much, really. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Y/N beamed at the praise and nodded, shifting a little in her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m glad you like it so much.”

The two girls grinned at each other then turned their gaze to the horizon, content to spend the rest of the ride together in comfortable silence.

Her friendship with the princess of the Northern Water Tribe was something that Y/N cherished with all her heart. She could confidently say that Princess Yue was her best friend, and she hoped it was a notion that Yue shared. As beautiful as she was kind, the princess always had a way of making her feel better on the hardest days — Yue was the only one who knew the whole truth of what happened in the Fire Nation, and she offered nothing but sympathy.

Y/N honestly didn’t know what she would do without Yue. She had been her rock during the whole process of getting situated in the tribe, always lending a helping hand when she stumbled in class or was completely oblivious to something in their culture, and she never made her feel stupid, or unwanted, or less-than for what she had come from.

The only thing that confused her about Yue was the feeling she got whenever Y/N was around her. The rushes of heat to her cheeks, the warmth blossoming in her chest, and the unusual happiness she felt anytime Yue smiled at her. The most peculiar of it all was the strange tug of jealousy any time a noble boy tried to flirt with the princess, and nothing but disinterest whenever they tried an angle on her instead.

She didn’t know what any of it meant, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it was wrong. So Y/N did the only thing she could and suppressed it.

Soon enough, though much to their chagrin, Y/N had to leave. After some exchanged hugs and one last wish of happy birthday, Y/N took off for her morning healing class. But as she hurried down the icy paths, she caught sight of the most peculiar thing.

A giant flying bison was being led through the canals with a team of waterbenders, three kids that couldn’t be any older than her on its back. One had an arrow on his head and sported orange and yellow robes, while the other two looked to be of Water Tribe descent.

Her interest was irrefutably piqued, but she didn’t have any more time to waste with gawking. So she began to run once again, apologies spilling from her lips as she maneuvered through the groups of people all just as awestruck by the strange arrival as she was. Y/N made a mental note to ask Yue about it later, but for now she was running very late to her healing class.

-

Sure enough, a few hours later, Y/N was able to get the answers she had been craving. She met up with Yue outside of the palace, and during a short walk, she learned that the boy was the Avatar. He had come to the Northern Water Tribe to master waterbending, and the two kids with him were his companions from the Southern Tribe — much to her excitement, the girl was a waterbender.

Needless to say, Y/N was even more enthusiastic than before, and Yue made her day by confirming that they would be coming to her birthday celebration that night as honored guests. She had already talked to her father about allowing Y/N to sit with her and he had said yes, which meant that she would get to meet him and his friends in person — it just served as a reminder that Y/N had no idea what she would do without Yue.

After what felt like hours of passing the time with lost games of Pai Sho against her grandfather and failed attempts at finishing her homework, it was finally time for the banquet. Once she arrived at the front of the palace she bid goodbye to her grandparents and went to find the seat that Yue had secured for her.

She settled down in the empty spot next to what she assumed was Yue’s — it was her birthday after all, so a dramatic entrance wasn’t out of the question — and nervously glanced at the three visitors, trying to figure out how to introduce herself.

Thankfully, she was saved when the girl met her eyes and waved, offering a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Katara; this is my brother Sokka, and that’s Aang.” She gestured in their direction with her head when she said their names and they both smiled and gave her polite nods.

She returned the sentiment gratefully. “I’m Y/N— I’m one of Princess Yue’s friends. Welcome to the Northern Water Tribe!”

“Thanks!” Aang said. “We’re here to find a master so Katara and I can master waterbending.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Master Pakku is one of the best there is, and even though he’s a total jerk, he’ll be able to teach you everything you need to know. And Katara, we have some amazing healing teachers— I can bring you along to my class tomorrow if you’re interested!”

Katara’s eyes lit up. “You’re a waterbender too?” When Y/N nodded, her smile grew even bigger, though slightly wistful.

“I’d really appreciate that,” she admitted, though her brows knit together. “But I’d like to learn from Master Pakku as well.”

Y/N frowned, about to correct her, when the distinct sound of drums began to echo throughout the hall. Her displeasure immediately disappeared as she grinned at them all excitedly, gesturing with her head towards the action.

Chief Arnook stood up from his spot and their table, his low voice booming. “Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of our brother and sister from the Southern Tribe. And they have brought with them someone very special, someone whom many of us believed disappeared from the world until now… the Avatar!”

Y/N’s own applause joined a symphony of others clapping and cheering as Aang waved bashfully, and once it died down, Arnook continued. “We also celebrate my daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Princess Yue is now of marrying age!”

She grinned as Yue walked out alongside her attendants — she would never get used to her beauty. Y/N noticed the way that Sokka’s eyes widened as he stared at her, and her stomach twisted at the act for some unknown reason.

“Thank you, Father,” she said. “May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits watch over us during these troubled times!”

Arnook smiled at his daughter and directed his attention back to his people. “Now, Master Pakku and his students will perform!”

She could tell that Katara and Aang were enraptured by the bending, while Sokka’s attention was already on Yue as she walked over to sit between Sokka and Y/N.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Yue exclaimed, greeting her friend with a short embrace.

Y/N gave her a sideways smile. “If you think that I would miss your birthday and a banquet, then I’m afraid you’re out of practice on Y/N trivia.”

The princess laughed and nodded amiably then turned her attention to Sokka, ever the diplomat.

“Hi there,” he grinned. “Sokka, Southern Water Tribe.”

Yue returned the sentiment and gave him a slight bow. “Very nice to meet you.”

As their conversation went on, Y/N found herself tuning out a bit. For whatever reason, she had to actively stop herself from rolling her eyes at Sokka’s flirting, that same feeling in her stomach coming back. She made a mental note to see a healer about her issues.

“Hey, Y/N!” She snapped out of her self-imposed trance at the sound of Katara calling her name as she gestured for her to come over. It looked like Aang had gotten up to converse with Master Pakku and Chief Arnook, so she took the invitation and switched seats.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to finally be here,” Katara said once Y/N had settled next to her. “Back home, I’m the only waterbender. Here… it’s like paradise. It almost feels too good to be true. I mean, even seeing you is crazy — I’ve never met a waterbender my age.”

Y/N smiled, though not without a hint of sadness. “I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for you to be able to experience this. How are you the only bender left down there?”

Katara was silent for a moment, a flurry of emotions warring on her face, before she answered. “The Southern Tribe hasn’t fared half as well as the Northern Tribe during the war. We don’t have one big, huge capital like this, we’re all split up into small villages. The Fire Nation has just been relentless with their raids, and without support from the North and a lack of communication between our sister tribes in the South, they were able to wipe us all out. Except for me.”

“Spirits, Katara…” Y/N set an amiable hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping that her softened expression could say what her words couldn’t. “My village was invaded when I was young, too. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

She nodded pensively but managed to meet her eyes with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your village as well.” Her gaze drifted off, once again taking in the view around them, and when Katara met her eyes again she seemed better. “But we’re here now, and I’m planning to take advantage of everything I can, starting with all this food. Which one of these is your favorite?”

Y/N grinned as Katara pointed at the platter of various dishes in front of them. “Oh, you’ve got to try this. See that giant crab up there? That’s what this is, and you have not lived until you have tried Northern crab.”

Conversation flowed just as easily through the rest of the night between the two girls, occasionally switching to include Sokka and Yue and eventually Aang once he returned. Between the swells of pride whenever they laughed at her jokes, getting to learn about all three of them, and the almost palpable euphoria in the air, Y/N was sure of one thing:

This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. She could only hope it would last.

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko x reader fic #zuko #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #avatar fic #reader insert #avatar x reader #sadie writes #ehfar #y/n is having bi panic when she doesn't even know wtf the fuck bi is #she can't help it that her friend is the prettiest girl in the world

[lilhawkeye3]

At Arm’s Length

Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Wolffe’s greatest enemy is himself.

Warnings: you gonna need some tissues.

Part 4/10 [previous chapter] {next chapter}

A/N: If you would like to be added to the tag list, fill this out :)

He shouldn’t have been there.

He didn’t really know why he was there either, standing next to your bed as you slept, so stiff that he could’ve been in official parade rest.

You still looked so peaceful— well, if he ignored the wires and drips hooking you up to the machines beside you.

It was his fault they were there.

General Koon had alerted them all earlier that you’d awoken and been removed from the bacta tank, a sure sign that you’d make a full recovery in time. Wolffe had done his best to show nothing but support to his General, but he couldn’t ignore the overwhelming relief that soothed him at the news. He’d come here after clocking out, just to make sure with his own eyes that you were indeed alright.

That his mistakes hadn’t cost another life.

He focuses on the steady rise and fall of your chest as you doze, Comet’s earlier admonishments running through his mind. That he needed to fix this. You deserved an apology, at least.

Wolffe has never been good with words. That was something he always left for Cody, or even Fox— the more... administrative of their batch. Wolffe’s talents lay in action: in planning maneuvers, thinking on his feet during battle, wracking up some of the highest kill counts during training.

And the highest death counts in the war, seeing as no other commander had lost an entire battalion and lived to tell the tale.

But Comet is better at words, and closer to you than Wolffe ever will be. So as he stands guard over you, he begins to try and string his thoughts together into something worthy.

“I don’t hate you.“

Well that’s a great way to start out. A+ for him. He’s already frustrated with himself.

“I’ve... never hated you. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Silence.

“You were safer when I kept you away from me,“ he whispers. “I thought it was the right choice. To protect you is... we’re taught to protect our jetii no matter the cost. All of us would die for the General.”

His fingers tighten into a fist as he fights to speak his next words into existence, into a place where he can no longer ignore their truth.

“I would die for the General... but I would willingly condemn myself to this half-life to see you live.”

~~~~~~~~~

You’re not sure if the voice you’re hearing are a product of reality or your dreamworld, so you allow yourself to wake up slowly, letting the deep timbre lull you into a relaxed state. The sounds is comforting even if you’re not coherent enough to register a single word that’s been said. Although, maybe you should have, seeing as your eyes blearily open to find Commander Wolffe as the only other one in the room.

You raise a hand to rub at your eyes, but only get so far before you feel the tug of the IV in your wrist, urging you to lay you arm down again. Your movement has caught Wolffe’s attention, though, and you try to give him a smile as he takes a cautious step closer to you.

A warm tingling spreads throughout your chest as he calls you by your name. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you try and answer, but your wince as you try and draw in a deeper breath is met with an unimpressed stare. A flicker of guilt washes over Wolffe’s face before it disappears just as quickly, and you’re left wondering if you imagined it.

“Obviously that’s not true,” he points out, crossing his arms as he waits for an honest answer.

You avert your eyes from his to instead look at your hands as you fidget with the sheet covering you. “Very sore and tired,” you reluctantly admit. “I should be alright as long as I don’t move too much for a while.”

Wolffe huffs, and you glance over to see him running a hand down his face, his eyes shut in frustration. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have jumped in front of the shots,” he clarifies gruffly, his hand clenching into a fist as he recrosses his arm over his armored chest.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “But if I hadn’t, you would’ve died!”

“I didn’t ask to be saved!” He snaps angrily.

Oh.

His words hang in the air like a poisonous gas that threatens to suffocate you both with their meaning. You curse yourself as you felt your eyes beginning to fill with tears, but what else was to be expected? You’re exhausted and hurt and now, to have him throw your actions in your face while you were so vulnerable—

It would seem that alive or dead, you can’t please him.

Wolffe’s expression morphs into one of regret and horror near instantaneously, his posture losing all tension as he reaches out a shaky hand and steps towards you. “Wait, that’s not what I—“

“What did I ever do to deserve such hate from you?” You whisper brokenly. Wolffe begins to say your name, but you cut him off. “Please, just... go. I can’t take any more pain.” You shift to be curled in on yourself facing away from him, so he couldn’t see your face as you begin to cry.

You aren’t sure how long he remains before he silently leaves the room.

~~~~~~~

Comet and Sinker find you like this an hour later when they come to check on you and bring you some food. They hold you as you try and piece yourself back together.

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #at arm’s length #gender neutral reader #clone trooper x reader #the wolfpack #104th battalion #jedi reader #so much angst #oops i warned y’all #mutual pining #survivor’s guilt #get this man some therapy #star wars fanfic #the clone wars #tcw

[jacksonroseroth]

Broken Glass Chapter 4

A/N: So I’ll be honest...I thought my cringe ass song was in this chapter and I refused to post it until my Beta could get her hands on it...Also Covid sucks dick and I’ve been struggling and had no desire or inspiration. SO SORRY IT HAS TAKEN THIS LONG BUT I PROMISE IT’S WORTH IT! <3

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/domestic, mentions of blood, mentions of surgery

Words: 4,333

Moodboard made by me, none of the pictures are mine

~

Previous Chapter

~

“Eric.” Harlow sassed, bringing his attention to her.

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Harley,” Eric said with a smirk. Harlow made a face at him as he looked back to Rose.

“What are you doing here, Eric?” Rose managed to get out. She took a step away from him. Already, she felt his hands on her again; Hitting, punching, slapping. Her stomach twisted into knots, remembering the pain, and her arms and legs went numb. Cradling her injured hand against her chest. Her other hand felt across the table for her glass, in case she needed to defend herself, instead, she found Colson’s hand and gripped it.

Eric glanced at Harlow and snickered. Looking at Rose once more, he said, “You should tell your girl to stay off the internet if you don’t want to be found.”

Tears sprang to Rose’s eyes as she winced. Just his eerie calm voice was as bad as being slapped around as his voice was permanently accompanied by the painful and all too real flashbacks. When he saw her flinch, Colson stood, quickly, putting an arm around her.

“You should fuck off if you don’t want to lose your fucking teeth.” Colson threatened. Eric chuckled. Rook stood at the same time Colson did and switched places with Harlow. Both him and Mod could sense this could end up in a fight and Rook knew, if Colson didn’t throw the first punch, he’d sure as shit throw the second. Rook stood at the end of the table and watched while Mod kept close to Harlow, ready to pull her away.

“What, you’re with this kid now? This skinny little punk?” Eric laughed. “You downgraded real bad, babe.”

“Oh, yeah?!-” Colson pushed forward but Rose pushed back as she said, “Anyone is an upgrade from you, Eric. And it’s really none of your business if I’m with him or anyone else.”

“Oh, honey, you are so delusional.” Eric scoffed.

“Hey. Aaron?” Colson started. Eric’s cold gaze shot up to Colson and narrowed.

“It’s Eric.” He corrected.

“Whatever. She isn’t interested so back off, yeah?” Colson said. Eric merely smirked and chuckled.

“He’s right, Eric. Leave me alone. Go back to Nevada and stay there.” Rose said. Harlow relaxed and reached out to touch Rook’s arm, silently telling him to sit and it was okay. He slid into Harlow’s former seat as Rose turned away from Eric, done with the conversation. Only Eric wasn’t quite there yet.

“Jesus, Rose. Are you off your fucking meds again?” Eric shot. Harlow lunged, trying to reach across the table to throttle him, but Mod was quicker and grabbed her waist to keep her seated. Rook was still alert as well and grabbed Harlow’s arms to push her back as well. Rose froze and Colson looked between them, waiting to see what she would do. Slowly, Rose turned to him, it now her turn for the ice cold glare. Eric smirked and added, “I think you remember what happened last time…”

Harlow pushed the men off her as her focus and concern were now on Rose, who stood cold and silent, staring down her ex. When Eric chuckled again, Rose snapped. Her right hand shot out and connected, hard, with Eric’s cheek and jaw, sending him to the ground. The surrounding patrons gasped and turned to watch the exchange as Rose pushed him onto his back with her foot, then pressed it against his neck.

“Go back. To Nevada. Fucking. Stay there. And leave. Me. Alone.” Rose hissed at him. All four of them were shocked, Harlow especially, and they were stunned into silence. Colson was the first to break when he saw the droplets of blood dripping off her injured hand.

“Shit. Rose, we have to go.” Colson said, gently cupping and lifting her hand up, pulling her away from Eric. At Colson’s touch, Rose hissed and turned, startled by the sudden pain and the blood seeping through the bandage.

“You bust the stitches. Babe, you need to go to the hospital, now.” Harlow said, stepping over Eric as he lay on the ground, holding his face. Rose was in too much shock to do anything other than nod and allow both Harlow and Colson to lead her outside, Mod and Rook following.

~

Harlow sped toward the hospital with Mod not far behind. Rose gave Harlow the keys and let Colson help her into the back seat, climbing in after her. When they all spilled into the ER, Harlow had worked herself into a frenzy and wasn’t allowed to be back with Rose to wait for the doctor. Mod and Rook attempted to calm her down, and sober her up, while Colson stayed with Rose in the room.

While she got hooked up to monitors and IVs, a nurse came in with an oxygen mask and a tank while her hand was unbandaged, cleaned up, and Harlow’s stitchery removed.

“Here, hun. Take a few deep breaths.” The nurse said, fitting the mask over her face. Rose laid back and did as she was told. After three deep breaths, the nurse removed the mask and left as the doctor started inspecting her hand.

“So, Miss...Jesper. How did this happen?” The doctor asked, pulling bits of glass out that Rose missed the first time. Rose smirked.

“Tonight or how I fucked it up in the first place?” Rose asked. The doctor gave her a look and a small smirk before he said, “Both.”

“I put my hand through a window yesterday,” Rose explained. “And tonight I punched out my ex.”

“Ah. I see.” The doctor said, trying not to chuckle. “Has this happened before?”

“My ex? Yeah.” She said with a half shrug. “My hand through a window? No. Before it was my knee.”

“Have you considered anger management?” The doctor asked with a smirk. Rose chuckled and glanced at him. Shifting in the bed, she said, “Thought about it.”

“I would suggest thinking about it a little more. The stitches were done well, but this type of wound can get infected fairly easily.” the doctor said. Rose nodded and said, “I’ve had good luck so far. Though I haven’t had to stitch myself up in a few years.”

The doctor continued on but Rose tuned him out, having heard it all before. She glanced at Colson and gave him a soft smile. He returned it and scooted his chair a little closer. Leaning on the railing of the bed, he asked softly, “You okay? Need to hold my hand?”

Rose smirked and Colson chuckled. “If it will make you feel better.” She sassed him, holding out her hand to him. Colson snickered and put his hand through the rail and took her hand, sitting back and pulling out his phone while he waited. Rose chuckled softly and turned to watch the doctor finish cleaning out the wounds.

“Alright, this might hurt a little. If it’s too much, let me know and I’ll have the nurse come back with the laughing gas, okay?” The doctor said. Rose nodded and watched as he threaded the needle but turned away when he started stitching. Her grip on Colson’s hand tightened a little, but it was enough to make him turn away from his phone, leaning toward her.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Rose asked. “It’s just a hell of a lot better when I can chug a bottle.”

Colson chuckled and said, “Isn’t everything?”

With a chuckle, Rose nodded and closed her eyes, wincing every now and then from the pain. A small smirk formed on Colson’s face as he shoved his phone into his pocket and rested his chin on the rail, giving her arm a soft squeeze with his other hand. Rose blinked open her eyes and smiled at him as the gas finally sent her to Loopyville. Seeing him resting his chin on the railing, it made it easier for Rose to pull her hand from his then reach up and boop his nose lightly, making her give a giddy giggle. Colson snickered and shook his head as Rose took his hand again.

“You are something else, girl.” Colson chuckled. Rose shrugged and said, “I’m like a box of chocolates, baby. Never know what you’re gonna get.”

“Okay, Forest.” Colson teased, sending them both into a giggle fit.

“Listen. I can be cute and fun when I’m not high...Being high just makes me more cuddly and affectionate and goofy and shit.” Rose said. “It is not my fault if you choose to be present during a taste test, okay?”

Colson snorted and stifled a loud laugh, pressing his face into his arm. Rose smirked and shifted, glancing back over at her hand. The doctor had finished stitching her up and wrapped her hand. As he cleaned up the bloody bandages, the doctor said, “Alright, this needs to be changed twice a day, in the morning when you wake up and at night before bed. Twice daily for about a week, then once a day for another two. After the first two weeks, I’ll want to see you again to make sure it’s healing properly. In the meantime, keep an eye on it, try not to get the bandages too wet, though you can take them off to shower. If anything changes or gets worse give us a call and we’ll bring you back.”

“Sounds good. Am I good to go?” Rose asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and pulling her hand from Colson’s.

“I'm also going to write you a prescription for some antibiotics. Just in case, so we can stop any infection before it starts.” The doctor said, quickly scribbling on a pad before entering the request in the computer. Rose took the piece of paper he handed her and stood, immediately stumbling and almost met the floor. Colson was quick and grabbed her by her waist, helping her stand and keeping her close. As the dizziness registered and showed no signs of leaving, Rose clung to him with a soft groan, pressing half her face into his chest.

“I was going to say take it easy because the gas can disorient you for a while, but I think you’ve figured it out.” The doctor said with a chuckle. He looked at Colson and asked, “You can get her home safely?”

Colson nodded and said, “Yes, sir. Don’t worry, she’s not driving tonight.”

The doctor chuckled and smiled. “Good. You two have a good rest of the night.”

Colson walked Rose out to the waiting room to meet up with Harlow, Mod, and Rook. They had gotten Harlow calmed down and she now sipped on a cup of hospital coffee, sitting between the men with her head on Rook’s shoulder. She perked up when she saw Colson walk out and waved them over. Colson steered Rose over to them and Harlow stood.

“What’d the doctor say?” Harlow asked, gingerly taking Rose’s hand to inspect it.

“Said your stitching was good,” Rose mumbled, with a light series of giggles. Harlow raised an eyebrow, noticing the slurred tone, and looked to Colson.

“Laughing gas.” Colson clarified, seeing the question on Harlow’s face. She then nodded and asked, this time directed to Colson, “So, what did he say?”

“Change the bandages twice a day for a week, once a day for two weeks after, if it doesn’t heal all the way,” Colson said. He took the paper from Rose and handed it to Harlow. “He prescribed her antibiotics in case of infection.”

“Alright. Jesus, girl, you’re a mess.” Harlow teased, taking Rose from Colson’s side. The gas had hit Rose hard and now she could hardly keep her eyes open. With Rose’s head resting on her shoulder, Harlow put an arm around her as they headed to the pharmacy for her pills. Afterward, as they walked through the parking lot, Harlow dug the keys out of her pocket and unlocked the truck.

“Come on, babe. Up you go.” Harlow said softly to Rose, as she and Colson helped her into the passenger seat. Once she was in, Colson buckled her while Harlow thanked him, then turned to Mod and Rook. She smiled at them before she hugged Mod. “Thanks for inviting us out. We had fun.”

“No problem,” Mod said, giving her a secret smile, one Harlow returned. “We did too. I’m glad I got to see you perform...Kind of.”

Harlow chuckled and said, “Whenever I get to be in front of a crowd and sing, I always perform.”

Mod chuckled and they planned out future sessions before Harlow moved on to Rook to say goodbye, privately, and Mod left to get his car. During her goodbyes, Colson stayed by the door with Rose.

“How are you feeling?” Colson asked with a soft chuckle. Rose looked up at him and a goofy smile crossed her face, making Colson snicker.

“I’m fucking tired,” Rose muttered. Colson smirked and pushed her hair out of her face, gently curling it around her ear.

“You’ll be home before you know it.” Colson assured. “Text me in the morning so I know you didn’t die, okay? Will you remember?”

Rose rolled her eyes and smirked, pushing his face away. Colson snickered, moving her hand and leaning a little closer again as she gave a soft chuckle and said, “Yes, I’ll remember. I’m not gonna die, you psycho.”

Colson licked his lips lightly and smirked, giving a shrug. “Okay, maybe I want to talk to you tomorrow...So, text me, yeah?” He said a little softer. Rose smiled at him, reaching up to give his collar a soft tug.

“I’ll text you,” Rose said back, her eyes flickering to his lips for a moment. Behind him, Harlow cleared her throat, suddenly and loud, making Colson take a step back and turn to her. Though Harlow wasn’t eavesdropping as both her and Rook rounded the car; Harlow wiping the corners of her mouth and Rook stood behind her, smirking as he adjusted himself. Colson smirked and said a soft, ‘Good night’ to Rose before closing the door.

“Thank you, Colson, for your help tonight. I’m, uh, sorry all this shit happened.” Harlow said as she hugged him goodbye.

“Nah, it’s all good. Shit happens. I’m just glad she’s okay and that bitch didn’t try anything.” Colson said. Harlow shook her head.

“No, he wouldn’t have. He talks big but he wouldn’t do anything in public.” Harlow said. Not wanting Colson to pry any further, she added, “I need to get her in bed. Um, I’ll see you next week at the studio.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you. Drive safe!” Colson called as he and Rook stepped back from the car, heading to Mod’s as he pulled up. Both men climbed into the car and Mod waited until Harlow had backed out and pulled away before taking off as well.

“So...How’d you make out...Rook?” Mod asked with a smirk, looking at the drummer in the rearview mirror. Colson chuckled and glanced back at his friend. Rook smirked and shrugged.

“What? Harlow’s hot. Can you blame me? You brought her out for me, didn’t you?” Rook asked, with a smirk. Both Mod and Colson ragged on him while Mod pulled out onto the street and headed to Colson’s.

~

Once Harlow was on the road, she glanced at a drugged-up Rose and said, “Hey. Still with me?”

“I’m here. I’m fine. I just want to sleep.” Rose grumbled. Harlow chuckled and said, “Just making sure.”

The rest of the car ride was quiet. In Rose’s inebriated state, getting her inside and in bed by herself was a struggle for Harlow. But she managed and once Rose was tucked in bed, Harlow was also quick to crash, falling into a deep, alcohol-induced sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

~

Thankfully, Rose slept through the rest of the night, only waking when the sun on her face was too hot for her. Groaning, Rose pulled herself out of bed and over to the patio doors, angrily pulling the curtains shut. Through the grogginess and half-open eyes, Rose shuffled back to her bed, flopping down on it with a sigh. She laid there for a moment then blinked her eyes open before rolling over to swipe her phone from the nightstand.

She was grateful to see Harlow had plugged it in before crashing and pleasantly surprised to see a text from Colson. It brought a half-smile to life on her face before she did her usual morning social media check-in before she opened her messages, responding to a few before she opened Colson’s.

Survive the night? ;) It read. Rose chuckled and checked the time stamp, seeing it read 9:40, before checking her own clock. It was only 11:30, so it wasn’t too late for her to feel bad about missing it.

What happened to ‘text me in the morning’? Couldn’t wait, could you? :P Rose replied. She set her phone aside then forced herself out of bed again, going to her bathroom to wash off her makeup from last night. When she came back to her phone, it lit up with Colson’s response. She smiled, lightly, as she opened it.

Too obvious? Ha. I wanted to check on you. How’s the hand?

Numb and throbbing. Rose chewed her lip before sending an additional text. So, everything after the punch is kind of fuzzy...I didn’t do anything when I was high off the laughing gas, did I?

You don’t remember? That’s fucking gold! Color bloomed on Rose’s cheeks.

Oh, fuck. What did I do? What did I say?! Rose groaned and dropped her phone on the bed, covering her face as she turned and fell back onto the mattress. She laid there until her phone vibrated next to her.

It’s nothing bad, babe. Just fucking funny.

Are you gonna tell me or let me lay here in shame?

There was a weird Forrest Gump reference and you...You fucking booped my nose.

“Oh, God!” Rose cried, covering her face again. She let out a groan before she responded.

Wow. Cool. Um, excuse me while I go light myself on fucking fire?! She sighed softly before she sent, I’m so sorry. I’m weird when I’m high, but laughing gas or anesthesia is out of my hands.

Nah, nah. You’re good. It definitely lightened the mood...And now I need to see you high XD

Yeah, that’s more of a fifth hangout kind of thing. You need to handle me sober first.

Baby. I handled you during a panic attack and laughing gas. I think I’m good.

Jesus Christ. I forgot about the panic attack. Colson, I am so sorry you had to see all that shit. Rose groaned and shoved her face in her pillow. Laying there for a few moments, Rose turned back over when her phone buzzed again.

Rose, chill. I’ve seen worse. You were tame compared to the wild shit I’ve seen. A small smile spread across her lips as she read Colson’s second text. You don’t have anything to apologize for. You didn’t know it would happen. Don’t trip, boo.

Rose let out a slow, calm sigh as she tried to convince her anxiety that everything was okay. Before she could respond, Colson sent his last text.

Hey, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight! Rose was honestly relieved to stop texting him, at least for the moment, before she said something stupid. It was also perfect timing as Harlow knocked once on the door before opening it. Walking in with two bags in her hands, and a drink in one, Harlow plopped down on Rose’s bed as her best friend watched her.

“Can I help you?” Rose asked with a light chuckle.

“What? I heard you rumbling around in here. I knew you were up.” Harlow said with a smirk. She handed Rose a bag once she locked her phone, set it aside, and shifted into a more comfortable spot.

“What is it?” Rose asked, taking the bag.

“Breakfast. Shut up and eat. You need it.” Harlow said, taking a bagel with cream cheese out from her own bag, tearing the paper off, and ripping into it. Rose chuckled and dug into the food, her stomach suddenly coming to life and growling.

“So, fill me in?” Rose asked in between mouthfuls. Harlow raised an eyebrow. “I remember almost fucking nothing after punching Eric.”

Harlow shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I drove like a bat outta hell to the hospital. That’s about all I know.”

“You weren’t with me when I got my hand stitched up?” Rose asked. When Harlow shook her head, Rose said, “I honestly don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing…”

“Why? Did you do something with Colson? Did you say something particularly...Saucey?” Harlow asked with a half-smirk, lifting her drink to sip it. Rose let out a soft laugh before she said, “Well, according to Colson, I said my box of chocolates line and booped him on the nose-Harlow!”

Harlow snorted then spit out her sip, spraying Rose with iced coffee. She then proceeded to roll on the bed, choking and laughing. Rose grabbed the napkins from her bag and wiped the coffee off as she rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha. Yuk it up, bitch. I’m fucking mortified.” Rose said. With a final and loud cough, as she wiped her eyes, Harlow sat up, still snickering.

“Oh, God...Rosie...Tell me you didn’t? Oh, that’s so fucking funny! Damn, I wish I was in there for that.” Harlow laughed.

“Yeah. Me too. Then I probably wouldn’t have done it.” Rose said, balling up the napkins and tossing them in her trash. She sat back as she finished off the rest of her bagel. Harlow’s tittering soon quieted and tried again to take a drink.

“You talked to him already today?” Harlow asked. Rose nodded and said, “The one fucking thing I remember...Did he ride home with us?”

Harlow shook her head, licking cream cheese off her thumb, and said, “No. But he was talking to you at the car before we left. And he rode with us to the hospital.”

Rose nodded and said, “That must have been it. I remember he said he wanted me to text him this morning. I text him and said I didn’t really remember much...And that’s what he told me.”

“I think you may have outdone yourself, Rose. And you did some weird shit in Nevada.” Harlow said, ripping into her second bagel.

“Under the influence of weed, alcohol, and/or your psycho ass. Not laughing gas.” Rose said, shooting her a look. Harlow smirked and shrugged.

“I mean, he text you back. Was he weirded out by it?” Harlow asked.

“No,” Rose said with a soft sigh, sitting back against her headboard. “He said he’s seen worse, but that doesn’t stop me from being embarrassed.”

“So be embarrassed, babe. If you don’t have to see him until next week, I’m sure it’ll fade over the week.” Harlow said. With a smile forming on her face, she added, “Besides, you need to focus. In about 2 hours, Jackson Rose Studios will be open and you will officially and finally have your own studio.”

Rose smiled and gave a soft sigh. “Yeah. But I’m not calling it Jackson Rose Studios. I’ve got to have something catchier.”

“Well, like what? Jackson Rose is you.” Harlow said.

“I know. And that was fine when I was freelancing. But this is a real, honest to God studio. It has to attract people.” Rose said.

“What did you want to go for?” Harlow asked as she cleaned up their breakfast trash. Rose shrugged.

“I don’t know? First thing I thought of was Bloom Studios. I want to keep the floral thing.” She said.

“I like that! What not go with that?” Harlow offered.

“It was the first thing I thought of. I want to weigh all options before I choose.” Rose said, grabbing a notebook from her nightstand and writing down a few possible names, then crossing them out.

“You said you wanted the sign up by next Friday,” Harlow said. Rose’s head shot up and she glared at her briefly.

“I’m aware, thank you. That’s why I’m freaking out now. I need the name for you to come up with a design before we bring it to a sign shop. All within a week?” Rose sighed, pushing the notebook away.

“Dude, relax. I can come up with a few designs in an hour and a half. You think about the name and get dressed. We need to go shopping after we get the keys and I need new pencils and paints. I wanna hit the Michaels in Beachwood before we get the keys. So, let’s move it!” Harlow cried, slipping off Rose’s bed and skipping out the door. Rose shook her head and sighed before scooting off the bed and peeling off last night’s clothes as she went to her closet. It was going to be a long day, full of walking and, no doubt, moving crap into the studio. She tugged on a flowy top and wiggled into a pair of leggings. After stuffing her curls into a bun, she slipped on her sandals and grabbed her phone and keys, snagging her sunglasses as she left.

“Whose car are we taking?” Rose called from the kitchen, slipping both her phone and wallet into the side pockets of her leggings and filled one of her cups with water.

“We’re going to storage. So, unless you want me to keep driving your car…” Harlow called back as she came down the hall.

“I can still drive,” Rose said with a roll of her eyes. Harlow shrugged and went to the closet to grab her shoes.

“Alright, then let’s go,” Harlow said with a big smile.

~

Hope you guys liked it. If you want to be added to my taglist for this and/or future MGK/Colson stories, let me know! If you have any comments, feel free!

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[tronnyboyo]

BLUE SEA  Chapter 4: Voices in the Night

Based off of “Delicious” from Pet Shop of Horrors

Rating: Mature

AU: Don Thousand’s Pet Shop

Word Count: 2564

Relationships: Hellshark/Disqualifyshipping (IV/Ryoga) and past Accidentshipping (IV/Rio)

Warnings: Manslaughter, dysfunctional relationships, brief mentions of sex, language, alcohol

Summary: Thomas brings Ryoga home from the pet shop and remembers the night of the accident.

   “There we are,” I said softly as I eased Ryoga into the pool. “Welcome back.” 

    As much as I had wanted to take Ryoga home right then and there, I knew that I was ill-prepared. He deserved the best. I couldn’t have transported the entire vase that he came in with me nor could I bear to leave him in his small traveling tank for long. Thus, I left him at the pet shop for a few days in order to prepare his new living quarters. Every day without him was hell, the longing eating up my stomach in sharp, desperate pangs. The day before I brought him home, his face had filled my every waking hour. 

      Even as I drove him here, my heart was filled with pain, seeing him in his cramped traveling quarters. Whenever I looked back at him, his eyes were filled with hurt and a slight frown tugged at his lips. 

   “Of course I’m not going to leave you in there like that! When we get back home, you’ll be amazed at what I did with our pool! It’s the perfect place for you!” I had fervently promised my husband. 

    I don’t know if he understood me, but I had continued to talk all the way home, hoping that he would recover at least a bit of his memories from before. Or, at least he would cheer up. It hurt to see his face twisted in pain like that. He looked so...vulnerable. Throughout the ride home, he had rotated between peeking his head out of the tank, arm resting on the sides to quietly lying down on the glass bottom, staring up at the ceiling, gills opening back and forth. After I took him out of the car, I promised him that he would never experience such discomfort again. 

   I intended to make certain of that promise. 

       Before the accident, we had decorated his room together. The walls were painted a dark shade of cornflower blue and were filled with his band posters. He had a window to let in the sunlight along with a sunroof in his bathroom. I had pulled his black curtains shut after the wedding, unable to bear the thought of sunlight fading out his possessions. I couldn’t bring myself to part with the clothes he had already put into his closet either. The mixture of jackets, band tees, jeans and the occasional leather jacket were still sitting there, most likely collecting dust. 

    When I redecorated the pool room, I had gone into Ryoga’s room for the first time in days. It still smelled of fresh paint. He still hadn’t properly spent a night in this bedroom. Not even a hint of his cologne wafted about. I supposed that it was a blessing in its own way. There weren’t as many memories here. Carefully, I removed a few of his posters and his clock. Photographs. Jewelry. His favorite retro stereo and accompanying CDs. I brought them down into the pool room and distributed his possessions everywhere. 

   Plish. Ryoga swam around his new quarters slowly, drinking in the sights. I had placed his favorite leather recliner by the poolside, next to his stereo. His posters and photographs were now framed and placed on the walls. The large window at the back and front of the pool room were framed with dark curtains, similar to the ones in his room. Next to the poolside, I had put a cabinet containing all of his accessories so that he could easily access his jewelry without having to crawl out. It was bolted to the floor in order to prevent any accidents. 

     Under the sun, I watched as his tail caught the sunlight. A smile filled my face. Throughout the year, sunlight changed in accordance with the seasons. Winter sunlight was soft and gentle, filling the world with what was necessary but not to excess. It made things look old, as if on the verge of fading. Spring sunlight was verdant and vivid, adding more color to the world. It served as the bridge between the bright colors of summer and the muted colors of winter. Summer sunlight was yellow and bright, giving everything under it a halo. It made memories shine with joy. And autumn sunlight...there was nothing like it. My favorite season had sunlight that was golden and rich. It dyed the world in the hues of nostalgia, warm and glowing. 

   I couldn’t wait to see Ryoga under the golden sunlight, especially surrounded by the hues of the garden. Red, orange and yellow would go well with his tail and complexion. His pictures under the autumn skies would be stunning. I also couldn’t wait to see him under the hues of spring, amidst the rejuvenating greenery of the garden. He had always looked so vivid against the greens of spring with his blue eyes, pale skin and violet locks. They were the colors of flowers. Perhaps that was why he loved spring the most. It was when he was most beautiful. 

   Who could blame him?

     Ryoga poked his head out of the water and rested his hand on the marbled border. He looked past me and out the window, now filled with late summer fruits. I followed his gaze and saw our fig tree with dark fruits splattered on the ground in mushy red piles. Underneath the tree in the humid summer heat, we had feasted on those sweet, soft fruits. It was always a running joke between us that the figs looked like a woman’s milky breasts, the white sap trickling out of the plucked tip in slow, sticky rivulets. Since the wedding, I couldn’t bear to look at them until now. 

    I looked back at Ryoga to find that he was already on the other side of the pool, looking up at the cabinet curiously. If only he could speak to me again. I’ve come to miss his jibes and relentless teasing. Walking over, I slowly opened the lowest cabinet to show him the array of accessories. The sparkling gems caught his attention and he curiously reached out for a necklace. 

   “I’ll help you put that on if you’d like,” I offered, coming closer. 

   At the sound of my voice, Ryoga disappeared into the waters and swam away. I tried not to take it too personally. After all, he had fallen three stories into frigid waters. Bzzt. 

    Oh.

     I clicked off my phone.

    “Time for lunch,” I announced as I walked over to the fridge. 

    I took three fish out of the fridge and turned around. Plish. Ryoga resurfaced, his eyes wide in anticipation as he saw the fish. For the first time since our wedding, a smile filled his face. My heart soared and I quickened my pace. He swam towards me and excitedly resurfaced, eyes sparkling with delight. I kneeled down and offered the fish to him. Deftly, he grabbed onto one of the fish and yanked it out of my hands, the scales brushing against my skin. He voraciously sank his teeth into the spine of the fish, sharp teeth ripping into the scales. I chuckled as he noisily ate. 

   “Still no charm and an overabundance of rudeness, huh?” I teased. 

    He ignored me and continued to eat. I put the two remaining fish by the side of the pool and cleaned my hands off with a nearby sanitizer. 

    “Let’s listen to some of your music,” I said as I walked over to his stereo. 

    I turned it on and selected one of his burned CDs. It was a lost art, according to him. Apparently, no one knew how to burn CDs anymore. I had never understood why he preferred CDs over our streaming technologies, but I always indulged him during holidays and birthdays. They were difficult to find, often sequestered in antique stores or sold in bundles of outdated technology. Pressing the play button, I then walked back to the jewelry cabinet to close it. The sounds of a soothing bassline started up as I looked into the cabinet. A silver ring caught my attention and I stiffened, quickly closing the compartment. 

     I walked back to the stereo to adjust the volume, prickles crawling up my spine. I watched Ryoga as he ate, the two silver rings on his fingers catching the light. The ring back in the cabinet had been Rio’s wedding gift to him. She had never gotten the chance to give it to him and it had arrived in the mail a few days after the accident. It had come in a plain box, nestled in white satin. “To: Ryoga, From: Rio,” was written on the inside of the lid in permanent marker. There had been no return address. 

   Unbidden, the contract resurfaced in my mind. Clause one: You must not show him to others. Even if it was his own sister? I should have asked for further clarification. But why shouldn’t Rio be allowed to know? If there was anyone that had grieved more than me, it was most definitely her. My hand crept to my pocket and towards my phone, yet it stilled just before I wrapped my fingers about it.    

        The order had been loud and clear. She never wanted to see me again after the wedding. My brows furrowed in contemplation. Surely, she would have wanted to know that Ryoga was alive though? Besides, it was the right thing to do. Then why couldn’t I do it?

     I saw her grief-filled expression under the moonlight as the sirens of the police and naval guard arrived. Her eyes had burned like fire that night, filled with our long and twisted history. First the fire. Then the awkward reconciliation. Stolen glances. Brief brushes of fingers. More intentional touching. Lighting-fast kisses before a duel. Her warm skin on mine, the cold metal of the hallways freezing me to the bone. The betrayal that filled her eyes when I proposed to her twin brother instead of her. 

    “It’s a publicity stunt,” I had said in a hushed voice. “Good for the press and for our careers.” 

     The pale moonlight gave her magenta eyes an otherworldly glow. It dyed her hair silver and her skin was milk white. The white dress she wore fluttered in the wind, the diaphanous fabric teasing me. She was an otherworldly creature of the light. I regarded her cold gaze there, forcing myself to move towards her despite the ice in my veins. Hesitantly, I reached out to her, afraid that she would shatter in my embrace. My shoulders heaved in relief when she didn’t disappear as I held her tight, the ocean breeze and the rocking of the ship melding with our heartbeats. 

    “I will always love you,” I promised. 

    Thunk. Both of us jumped at the sound. Quickly, I turned to see Ryoga, silhouetted against the bright interior of the ship. With the golden light behind him, his hair appeared black and his face was marred by long shadows. His navy blue suit had become a dark shroud and I could not see his eyes. Even the white flowers in his lapel looked gray in that moment. The shadow to Rio’s light. 

    “What are you doing with her?!” he shouted as he rushed towards me. 

    In the moonlight, his sapphire eyes shone with fury and hurt. Before I could answer, he grabbed my collar and shoved me against the deck railing. 

    “Ryoga!” gasped Rio. 

    “Stay out of this!” he snapped, his eyes drilling holes into me. “How long have you been doing this with her?!”

     His cheeks were flushed with red and his breath smelled of champagne as he pushed me once again. 

   “Did you just use me to get closer to my sister?!”

    His voice had broken at the last word, yet his face remained engulfed in rage. Roughly, he pushed me harder against the railing, my back teetering over the edge. The ocean beneath us was an inky black abyss. 

    “C-calm down…! Your s-sister was merely worried about you—about us!” I cried weakly. 

    Ryoga’s eyes narrowed, catching my lie instantaneously. But it was true. Almost everyone at the wedding knew that we fought regularly. Spats peppered our relationship, which was always followed by angry and passionate sex. Those were always the best, with his teeth sinking into my skin and my nails marking up his body. Just not this time. 

   “You fucker!” he screamed. “I trusted you! I knew something was off when Rio started coming to our matches more often! It was because of you!” 

  Being a high-profile prosecutor had left Rio with little free time. It must have hurt when Ryoga realized that she had made time out of her busy schedule not for him but for me. I looked at his face and noted that his lips were trembling. Despite the alcohol he had consumed, his eyes were filled with lucidity. 

    “Listen…!” I gasped as I teetered over the edge of the railing. “It was casual! We—”

    In an instant, Ryoga positioned me over the edge, the deck railing digging into my lower back. I saw the bright expanse of the stars before me, my blood rushing through my ears. Rio’s cry weakened his grip and I felt my instincts kick in. Quickly, I freed myself from Ryoga’s grip and pushed him away. I circled him and he rushed towards me. We struggled for a few moments as we exchanged blows, making our way down the empty deck. I narrowly avoided a kick and slammed Ryoga against the railing. Distantly, I heard Rio crying for help. 

   Still, Ryoga kept trying to punch and kick at me, even as a bruise was forming on his cheek. He swung towards my face and I roughly pushed him away, my muscles rippling with fury. Too late, I realized as I saw his body flip over the railing. It seemed to happen in slow motion. 

     The shine of his shoes against the moonlight. The way his curls flew in all directions of the wind. How his furious expression melted into shock and then fear. How his mouth opened up into a scream. His corsage, fluttering loose and scattering in the wind. 

    “Ryoga…!” I yelled, sticking out my hand. 

    It felt as if I was trapped in gelatin, my limbs refusing to move fast enough. All that lifting. All that training. And it couldn’t even save him. It only killed him. Our fingers briefly touched, briefly interlocking before pulling away. The coldness of his skin shocked me, as if he was already beneath the waves. Rio’s scream melded with her brother’s and mine. The once-peaceful starlit night seemed to be full of nothing but screams in that moment, piercing and endless. And then a small and distant ker-plash as Ryoga’s body sank beneath the waves. 

    I jolted awake with a gasp. 

     “It was an accident,” my manager said. “Plain and simple as that.”

    His voice echoed in my mind as I watched Ryoga swim, the fish long eaten. It wasn’t my fault. As Ryoga passed me by, he didn’t grace me with a single glance. I felt a twinge of relief as he passed me by indifferently. Perhaps this was a gift from heaven. A blank slate with Ryoga who, I knew now, was the love of my life. 

#zexal #Thomas Arclight #ryoga kamishiro #disqualifyshipping #accidentshipping #hellshark #rio kamishiro #writing from iris #BLUE SEA

[lucitrius]

•°☆°• Oumami week day 4: "I love you” / “I’m sorry” / "I missed you” •°☆°•

▪ word count: 2,281 ▪ content: spoilers for chapters 1 - 5, survivor au, death, afterlife ▪

————————————————— ☆ —————————————————

Ouma shivered as he laid against cold, hard metal, the only forgiving warmth being the rapidly fading body heat that had been left in the jacket beneath him. The metal was winning, though, and it didn't last long. Goosebumps raised all over his body as a chill rolled through him, and he groaned pathetically. Despite how cold he was, however, there were sweat beads dotting his forehead as he stared up at the looming shadow of the press. At least it would be quick once it touched him.

"...Are you sure about this?" Momota finally spoke up, ripping Ouma back down to reality. He turned his head to look at him, although he couldn't really see his face from where he was laying. Momota noticed this and knelt down next to him, gripping the corner of the base plate tightly. He was nervous too, it was obvious.

Ouma simply offered him a strained grin, nodding as much as he could. "Yup! Even if I wasn't, I would still die anyway. The poison is really starting to make itself known!" His voice was crackly and weak against his own will. He was an impressive actor, but when your body has organ failure on speed dial it's hard to exhibit your best skills.

Momota looked unimpressed with his answer, but even so he knew that he was right. He looked him up and down for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Damn it… You could've drank some of the antidote and saved both of us. But, I guess that's just not your style, huh?" Ouma peered at him with newfound interest until he finished the thought. "You could've just cooperated. I had no idea you were trying to help, you know? Then it- it wouldn't have come down to this. I don't want to kill you, but..."

"Cooperated, huh?" he echoed, turning his head so he was back to staring at the hydraulic press. He opened his mouth to make some remark, to comment on how it was a stupid idea, but nothing came out. He shut his jaw with a slight frown.

Momota sat on his heels silently, waiting for some kind of comment, but just stood up in defeat when he only got silence in return. He scratched his fingers against the hairs on the back of his neck anxiously and started for the control platform. The only sound left in the hangar was the buzzing hum of the press and the faint thudding of the exisals walking around in another part of the building. Ouma didn't like it. He was fully prepared to die- hell this was practically just assisted suicide- but being left alone to his rampant thoughts as he lay on his literal death bed was highly uncomfortable. 

It felt like an eternity before he heard Momota's feet stop moving. It was only a matter of seconds, then. He seemed to hesitate to give Ouma the heads up that he was going to do it already, and even when he spoke up he avoided it for just a moment longer. "Hey, I mean, at least you'll be able to see Amami again."

Ouma's eyes widened just a touch; so he had put two and two together after all. He reached up to his chest with a shaky hand, gripping the long pendant of the necklace he still wore. A saddened smile crossed his lips, but he didn't respond as the hum of the press kicked up a few decibels and descended toward him.

•°☆°•

The distant conversation that could be heard in the back of his head was annoying. It hurt, even, only worsening the aching in the back of his skull as it continued. But, that was the thing. Conversation, headache… was he alive? No, that couldn’t be right. He watched it happen, after all, there was no way he could have survived that. As his mind started to focus more and more he realized that he had woken up, as he could see light through his eyelids. Against his better judgement of how much it would hurt, he opened his eyes quickly, and of course had to blink rapidly to adjust.

Sitting up slowly, he looked around expecting to see… well he wasn’t quite sure, really. Clouds, maybe? Or, on the other side of the coin, perhaps an intense heat, but neither was the case. Instead he was promptly met with pure white cabinets and dully toned countertops surrounding him. And as his body moved, he could hear the ruffling of the sheets around him and a thin tube tugging gently at his wrist. Looking down towards the feeling, he immediately identified it as an IV tube, and noticed that he was in a hospital gown. Why was he in a hospital; and more importantly, how?

The voices just outside of his room grew closer gradually until the door rattled on its tracks slightly before sliding open. He, just before the people behind it stepped inside, layed back down quietly, shutting his eyes and opening his mouth a tad to be more convincing. He wanted nothing more than an explanation, but equally as much, he didn’t want to worsen the pain in his skull by trying to talk to someone to get it. He could listen just fine.

“He’s just in here, sir,” said a bland, unnoteworthy voice which he presumed to be either a doctor or nurse. “I would suggest not waking him up on your own so that he doesn’t freak out upon realizing he’s alive, and I’m sure you understand basic visiting decency already so I’ll spare you the lecture.”

A few footsteps moved towards his bed, and under the blanket Ouma tightened his fist. 

“I’ll be careful with him, no need.”

Ouma struggled to keep his eyes closed upon hearing Amami speak. Surely this was some cruel personal hell for him to endure for the rest of eternity, after all he saw his corpse. He felt it, he swore he checked for his pulse. But, all of his pessimistic thoughts were thrown out of the window as he felt two warm, gentle hands take one of his own. It felt so real, so familiar. 

Amami was silent as he sat there, but even so Ouma focused so much more on listening to his breathing than the track of the door as it was closed once more. Ouma’s eyes squeezed shut even tighter, not wanting to face it. If he opened them, it felt as though Amami would fade away once more, so instead he gripped one of his hands loosely.

The fingers in his hold jolted along with the other boy’s whole body, and he was heard leaning closer towards him. “...Ouma? Are you up?” Of course he was, but he was just so scared. He wanted to live in this reality, in this Schrodinger-type mystery where Amami would always be alive. 

With a beat of continued silence, Amami released a sigh. “It’s alright, I don’t care. At least you’re even here,” he continued with a noticeably relieved, yet concerned, tone. There was a brief pause, maybe considering his options. Nothing was exactly stopping him from waking the other up considering the staff member had left the room by that point. But if he still thought that Ouma was truly sleeping, then he may want to let him continue to rest.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have been left alone to fight like that.”

Ouma, very hesitantly, cracked open his eyes. He once again had to adjust to the burning white LEDs that were overhead, but he didn’t care. One quick look to his right, his thoughts were proven wrong. Amami, sitting somewhat hunched over with his eyes closed, shoulders relaxed while his hands were still tense, was right there. Alive. “Don’t tell me Amami is really going to go and blame himself for this all?”

Amami gasped, snapping his eyes up to look at him. A smile immediately crossed his face, his previously somber body language melting into something more lively. “I should’ve known you were awake. I expect nothing less of you,” he chuckled giddily. Ouma found his smile to be contagious, and for the first time since his apparent death, he found himself doing so genuinely; comfortably. Shutting his eyes gently to keep a few tears of joy back, Ouma laughed.

•°☆°•

Something about growing old was oddly nice. Ouma never thought that he would ever want to grow up, but living alongside his friend, his lover, and later his husband completely flipped his ideals. Amami- or Rantarou, rather, once they were wed under the same name- was much more important than his silly childhood wishes, anyway. The countless nights where they laid awake, suffering the consequences of the killing game were really the only issue. But even then, the two of them were always there regardless of whatever horrid nightmare, thought, or memory came to one or the both of them. There was never a moment when they couldn’t be in touch, and it was lovely. 

Domestic, lazy days where they did nothing but sit in each others’ arms and sleep were easily his favourite to remember. He had a vivid memory of how Rantarou’s chest felt against him, the welcoming warmth spreading throughout his own body while the thudding of his heartbeat kept him grounded. It didn’t last forever, though. 

After some time, the two started to get a bit old for lounging all over each other, and it stopped. Kokichi watched as his husband tended to his needs, as once he reached 72 he could no longer even stand on his own. He always cursed his natural tendency to be weak, which only increased during that time. But Rantarou never minded, and they were happy.

And, after nearly 64 years of marriage, Kokichi was upset upon realizing that they had been separated. It was a gentle passing in his sleep, and neither of them were expecting anything different than normal. Rantarou left him with a careful kiss to his lips, with a soft squeeze of his hand and an exchange of “I love you,” they drifted off together. But once he woke up, he was staring off at a field, which he recognized to be their backyard. That was odd, he thought at first. He rarely visited the garden anymore, even if Rantarou did his best to keep it alive and well. The best he had was a view outside of their bedroom window, where the vines of wisteria creeped along the wooden panels that surrounded the glass and a few young apple trees struggled to blossom in their juvenile stages. 

He made no effort to stand, instead opening his mouth to call out for the other man gently. “Rantarou?” he asked to thin air, suddenly shocked at the youth in his own voice. He looked down at himself, and sure enough, his hands were thin and nimble once more, only now he felt even more weightless than ever. Ah, so this is it. This is what he was expecting all those years ago when he had laid cold and alone under the press, when he was convinced that Rantarou had been ripped away for good. So here he was, now the one that had gone missing.

It was a lonely existence, in all honesty, but he tried not to mind it. He spent his time looking after the house, which was an exact replica of the home he had practically memorized by this point, in waiting for the day that he would receive some company. He made sure that the garden stood green, that the apple trees- which were much older and readily bearing fruit now- were healthy, and that the wisteria by his window was always secured to the wall.

As he set down his trowel and picked up a watering can, having just planted a bulb that he had taken out last spring, he heard the grass behind him shift under someone’s weight. He dropped the container, some of the water spilling over the metal trim top, and whipped around on his knees. 

Just in front of him, Rantarou was lying peacefully in the grass, just beside the patch of Forget-Me-Nots that they had planted together the day after their wedding ceremony. He smiled warmly, standing up and brushing the dirt from his knees as he shuffled over to where he was sat. He stood over him, looking down at his sleeping face longingly. It was fine, he could sleep. He deserved to wake up peacefully just as Kokichi had.

After a few minutes, he watched as Rantarou’s eyes fluttered open slowly, his focus wavering momentarily before landing on the man above him. His eyes widened, and as soon as it was offered to him, he grabbed the hand outstretched and sprang up to grab Kokichi into a tight embrace. Kokichi giggled, throwing his arms up and around his husband once more, relieved to finally feel the warmth of his chest again. It didn’t take long for them both to start crying; neither of them minded doing it in front of each other anymore, and in this afterlife, there wasn’t ever going to be anyone else to see it anyhow. 

Kokichi pulled away from him, staring up at his jade green eyes affectionately before standing up on his toes to kiss him softly. They didn’t part for what felt like centuries, and it was incredible. They were home, together, once more.

Rantarou laid a hand on his cheek, pressing his thumb into his skin slightly just to get closer to him than he already was. They were always, always getting closer. “I missed you.”

#oumami #oumami week 2020 #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #rantarou amami #rantaro amami #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #New Danganronpa V3 #ndrv3 #drv3 #drv3 spoilers #//sorry for being late!! i still have to catch up cause friday was a busy day and so was today :( #citrus drips #id #🍈

[jaebaebie]

Why Us? Why Now? Why Ever?

In a post apocalyptic world where walkers took over the living, Era realised that she was different from every one else. Wanting to uncover the reasons to her differences, she embarked on a journey to the West where she met a few Strays,, including a man named Hwang Hyun Jin who, just like her, was cold, hot headed, and full of distrust. She thought they would never get along, but what happens when the two cold hearts start to melt?

STRAY KIDS ZOMBIE AU // WUWNWE MASTERLIST

Chapter 4 ~ “See? It’s simple.”

prev // next

The walk through the forest was thankfully quiet. We didn’t bicker like we usually did, letting the soft crunch of the dried leaves under our feet be the only sounds we could hear.

My steps were halted by Hyunjin’s grasp on my arm, pulling me back harshly. There were no signs of walkers, not even a movement in the forest, so I turned to him, a confused and slightly annoyed look on my face. I was not pleased with the sudden and rough physical contact.

He pointed to the ground just in front of me, revealing a thick brown rope which tied into a snare knot, easily camouflaged in the dried leaves. The rope led up to a tree, creating some kind of trap for whoever stepped in it.

“Walker trap.” Hyunjin explained, “We have these all around camp thanks to Seungmin’s brain.”

I nodded, muttering a small ‘thanks’ as I stepped aside to walk past the so-called ‘walker trap’.

Walking deeper into the forest, I made sure to watch out for the slightest hints of ropes in the ground, not wanting to be hauled up in the air like the zombies we had come across. The walker trap caught the ankles of anyone who stepped foot in it, dragging them to hang upside down from the tree.

Hyunjin had his dagger out, easily stabbing any walker that fell prey to the trap in its skull, before disposing of it and resetting the trap back in its original place. 

It really made me curious as to what the boy went through when the apocalypse hit. He didn’t seem shocked to see any walker in his way, as he had the same undeterred look on his face when he put an end to each of them. Not shocked. Not scared. Unbothered. 

I hadn’t even realised that I had been staring at him from the back. And I didn’t realise he would notice, proving me wrong when he let out a sigh, “Why do you keep staring?”

Flustered, I quickly muttered out the first plausible explanation, knowing that I was caught red handed, “I’m sorry for cutting you,, and you know trying to kill you.”

His cheek still bore the cut that I placed on him during our first meeting, scabbed. A corner of his mouth twitched as he raised his brow towards me, “I didn’t know you were capable of apologising.”

“Well,, you don’t know a lot of things about me.”

“Yeah? Let’s keep it that way.” Hyun Jin replied, causing my face to flush red in anger and embarrassment. Here I was, apologising to a jerk like him, and yet, he continued to be a jerk. I shook my head, knowing that I should just accept the fact that Hyunjin and I will never be more than acquaintances who can’t stand each other.

“Jackpot.” I exclaimed, immediately forgetting my anger as I spotted the small prints of an animal deepened into the mud. “One’s close by. Stay quiet.”

Following the tracks, I set down a handful of corn on the ground.

“Bait?” Hyunjin asked. I nodded, “Better to shoot it when it has its guard down.”

We stationed ourselves behind a bush, a distance away from the bait we had just placed, far enough to not scare our meal, but close enough for me to get an accurate shot. After a long and dreadful silence, the deer came into view, sniffing the bait we’d placed.

With my bow ready and arrow in place, I aimed, taking a deep breath. In. Out.

Remember, Era. Aim, Breathe, Shoot

I relaxed myself, closing my eyes as I recalled his face. His hazel brown eyes. The wrinkles that would form when he smiled. My shoulders relaxed the way they always did as and I opened my eyes, releasing the arrow.

The deer let out a squeal as the arrow hit just inches away from its fatal spot. Immediately, I aimed for another shot, shooting it directly through its eyes and causing it to fall fatally to the ground.

“Impressive.” Hyunjin remarked as we walked towards the prey I just caught.

I turned to him, a small proud smile on my face, “I didn’t know you were capable of complimenting.”

He shrugged his shoulders, helping me tie the legs of the deer together, “You don’t know lots of things about me, Era.” He said, imitating me.

Rolling my eyes, I busied myself with tying the rope as replying him with the same comment he made previously would be too cliché. Also, the comment would’ve been untrue, given that my curiosity actually wants to know more about him even if the two of us can’t stand each other. I mean, keep your friends close and your enemies closer,, right?

“We’re catching another one?” Hyunjin asked, noticing that Ive place more bait on another area. I shook my head, tossing him my long bow, “Nope. You’re catching another one. Deers travel in herds. His mate shouldn’t be too far.”

“I shoot guns, Era, not arrows.”

“Well, you said to teach you how to hunt. You can’t hunt with guns unless you’re hunting for a hoard of walkers. And you won’t always have me. As soon as you guys are good with hunting, I’m out.” I said, leaving him to find another spot to hide from.

His gaze switched momentarily. So quick that I couldn’t decipher what had possibly changed because his expression went back to his dry one. “You’re still not staying?”

I passed him an arrow, which he was able to attach the end of it to the string easily. “I told you. I don’t do people.” I replied, nodding to the tree several meters away from us, “Practice a few shots.”

Unlike guns, a bow and arrow was much easier to learn. It wasn’t as complex because all there was to learn was how to aim properly. Since the arrow was longer than a bullet, it was much easier to aim accurately with a bow than a gun and there would be no recoil that would screw up your aim with the bow.

Hyunjin gave me a glare as I challenged him with a smile, “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”

He raised his arms, pulling the string back tensely— his first mistake. Barely taking the time to aim, he released the string, causing the arrow to land on the tree next to the one he was aiming for.

He watched my expression, expecting to see a smug look on my face. But I simply shrugged my shoulders, “At least you hit something..?”

Passing him another arrow, I helped him with his pose, “It’s simple, Hyunjin.”

“Make sure you line your body perpendicular to your target. Close your right eye and pull using three fingers. Aim using the tip of the arrow, slightly above your target,” he followed diligently, altering the way he held the bow. Aim

My heart ached as I remembered how I was taught, imitating every move that was done for me. Placing my hands on Hyunjin’s shoulders, I felt them tense from my touch, “Relax and breathe. You can’t be tense.”

His shoulders raised and fell as he took a breath in and then out. Breathe

Then he released the string, launching the arrow into its desired target. Shoot

Hyunjin’s eyes seemed to almost widen when he realised he actually hit the target. Almost. I gave him a small smile, “See? Its simple.”

By the time Hyunjin had caught another deer, the sun was nearly setting. We both knew that there was nothing good when the sun was down. Though some walkers continue to be active in the day, they seemed to be more active at night, making it a lot more dangerous to roam around without the comfort of the sun.

“You caught these?” Jeongin exclaimed. He was the first to greet me the minute Hyun Jin and I were back in the safety of the camp.

I nodded, giving him a smile. “I’ll hand these to Suzy.” He said, referring to one of the middle aged woman who was in charge of providing food as he took the two ropes from Hyunjin and I.

Hyunjin and I hadn’t spoken a word ever since we left for camp. I thought that he was being his usual cold self,, which I didn’t mind since the feeling was mutual. Except, his mind seemed to be distant. Like he was thinking of something beyond where to step and which way led us back to camp.

Felix called out for the two of us, waving his hands from the usual table they sat in for dinner. 

“You coming?”

Hyunjin shook his head, “I’m gonna look for Chan first. Tell him how it went.”

I nodded, beginning to walk towards Felix to join them for dinner. I felt a sense of excitement when I spotted Han at the same table, waving.

“Era.”

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face the man who had just called my name.

He shifted uncomfortably, though his eyes remained cold, “I’m sorry too,, for trying to shoot you.”

I blinked, surprised that Hyunjin actually just apologised to me— something I thought he would rather die than do. I found myself flashing him a genuine smile,

“Took you long enough”

#skz au #skz writing #Stray kids writing #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz #stray kids #skz zombie #Stray kids au #stray kids zombie #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hyun jin

[dailyspark]

2k of “I’ve had a brain scan before and this is not my brain” au where Will figures it out, set during “Buffet Froid”, taking some lines at the start directly from the show, up until it diverges away. // posted as chapter 4 of my hannigram fic collection on ao3

~~

Sitting across from Hannibal was familiar, it felt safe. If there ever was a place where he could be honest—so much more honest than ever, ever—it was here. Talking about Abigail was painful, but necessary. “Abigail ended Nicholas Boyle like a burst balloon. She took a life.”

“You’ve taken a life.”

There’s a bit of a cold look in Hannibal’s eyes at that and Will can’t help but respond in kind, “So have you.”

~~

“Do you feel alive, Will?”

“I feel like I’m fading.”  

~~

“I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked through me, past me. Like I was a stranger.” Leaning against the ladder, hoping for stability he wasn’t feeling. Will could only look at Hannibal, approaching.

“You have to honestly confront your limitations with what you do and how it affects you.”

Close, so close, Will could feel breath catch in his throat. Hannibal had him between the ladder and the rest of the room. Making their universe, this conversation, everything. Trying to push him away, saying, “If by limitations you mean the difference between sanity and insanity... I don’t accept that.” A fleeting eye contact with Hannibal, and he had to look away, over his shoulder. Wanting to escape this conversation. Move past it. But, but there was something. Something important to it.

“What do you accept?” Hannibal, always prompting, always wanting his interpretation. Making Will admit to things. This is why he liked him so much, why he could be honest in this setting. While it made him want to escape the situation, he knew the conversations were much more useful, they made him confront things otherwise he would keep buried.

“I know what kind of crazy I am and this is not that kind of crazy.” Unwilling to see the doubt in Hannibal’s face he turned away, “This could be seizures. This could be a tumor.” Pushing away from the ladder, closer to Hannibal, continuing the desperate plea for it to be something medical, “A .. a blood clot.” Everything but the diagnosis of mental illness.

“I can recommend a neurologist.”

~~

Getting through the MRI was a lot more nerve wracking that Will expected. Hallucinating pulling Beth LeBeau under her own bed. He really was done with today. Contaminating a crime scene, upsetting Jack and turning his concerned gaze on him had been a lot.

Being rude to his face wasn’t as nice either. He truly disliked disrupting this ‘stability’ as Jack called it. Teaching and trying to catch the killers—saving lives—no matter how it was bad for him, ultimately was good for him.

And then Dr. Sutcliffe had to go and lie to him.

“We didn’t find anything abnormal. No vascular malformations, no tumors. No swelling or bleeding. No evidence of stroke. Nothing wrong with you neurologically.”

Will frowned at the scans, looking them over. No. They were wrong. He stepped closer, looking at the pictures of the brain, listening to the doctor continue talking.

“Usually when I tell a patient that, they’re happy to hear it.”

Something was very wrong. Will had had a brain scan before, in New Orleans, and he remembered it. Too well in fact, it had featured in his nightmares for long enough, that he could tell with a certainty that the brainscan Dr. Sutcliffe was showing him wasn’t his.

He needed time to think, to consider things. Will didn’t need to play up being upset, all he had to do was muddle through, “So .. what I’m experiencing is psychological?”

~~

The realization hit him not ten steps later, outside Dr. Sutcliffe’s office.

The reason for him lying, the reason for someone else’s brain scans, the two of them talking and talking while Will was in the MRI machine, the curiosity of the human mind under duress. It seemed so unlikely, but at the same time so fitting.

Will gulped, almost stumbling, moving the two steps required until the closest bathroom and got inside one of the stalls, gasping. Trying to have breath in his lungs.

The one person who knew so much, a doctor none-the-less, and skipping over all the medically valid options, repeating that all of this, all of it was mental illness. The betrayal hurt.

Hannibal was the first person Will had thought of calling as soon as he realized that Dr. Sutcliffe lied, he was the first and the last person Will would have trusted with this. The person who held all the power in this situation.

He was here, somewhere in the building, looking for Will, no doubt.

Almost hyperventilating, Will slid to the ground, hugging his knees. The chill from the floor tiles eventually brought him back. It chilled his thoughts as well. It also let him feel the subtle tells of a fever. So this was definitely medical. And something to be deal with now, instead of later.

He disliked leaving the case, but it had to be done. He hoped that evidence turned over enough to help apprehend the killer before he could be back at work.

And Hannibal. Well, Will would think what to do with him later. This betrayal was unnecessary, but it intrigued him as well. Why would he want to manipulate the situation such.

~~

Hannibal had tried to reassure him, but Will brushed him off, almost running away from the medical center, ready to get as far as he could.

He drove home.

While the mystery of Beth LeBeau’s murder would have lured him back to the crime scene, he put his survival first.

Feeding the dogs, he called the closest neighbours he had and arranged for someone to come feed them and walk them until he got back. He could have asked Alana for it, but she was too close to both the FBI and Hannibal.

Better that no one knew where he was going until he had some answers.

~~

Richmond was in the opposite direction of Baltimore. He was running away from Hannibal, wanting the distance between them to be more than real.

Checking himself into a hospital turned out to be easier than he expected—having a seizure in the emergency room instead of I-95 let him admitted and sent for another brain scan. Having non-FBI affiliated health insurance also didn’t notify anyone who might be looking for him. Realistically though, no one would, not until sometime tomorrow when he would fail to show up for a meeting with Jack at Quantico.

Until then all he had to do was wait for a doctor to say what exactly was wrong with him. A persistent thought kept saying that they would not find anything, and he had overreacted. That Hannibal would not betray him, that all of this was really stress of returning to field work.

Staring at the ceiling, trying to filter out rambles from his roommate from the other side to the privacy curtain, Will tried to unravel why would Hannibal and Dr. Sutcliffe pull something like this. Because on his own he wouldn’t have—something pushed him, and that something was most likely Hannibal. He had the presence for it. Manipulation.

Will remembered asking Hannibal if he was trying to alienate him from Jack. It had followed his first sleepwalking episode.

~~

Encephalitis.

The full diagnosis has a longer name, but Will had stopped listening. He was relieved, feeling tears in his eyes. Something was wrong with him, and not mentally. Hearing the doctor list the corresponding symptoms he has to flinch at each and every one.

Fits, if fucking fits. Despair has a particular taste in the air. He has a wish to grab the nearest phone, dial Hannibal’s number and scream ‘liar’ towards him, never listening to explanations. He curbs the wish, nodding towards the doctor and the proposed treatment.

~~

It’s Alana that find him first.

He’s on a second dose of a medical cocktail, floating between consciousness and darkness. The stag keeps walking past his room, huffing a cold breath, throwing snow to the ground. Will has to remind himself that Hannibal wouldn’t actually do anything to him. That he wasn’t that kind of person.

But why would he lie? Why would he betray Will so? Why was Will suddenly afraid of him?

A smile towards Alana when he felt more awake. A return smile made him blink again and realize that it was actually Alana there, and not another hallucination. “Hi.” Extending a hand, he pulled the glass of ice chips closer to him.

“Hi.” She seemed stuck someplace between confused and upset and relieved, Will couldn’t pinpoint it. It was probably all three at the same time. He could imagine the reason for confusion easily, but at the moment the upset and the relief were harder.

“I’m gonna be alright.” He tried to reassure her in return.

“Yes. Why are you here, Will?” A frown, and the confusion overwhelmed all other emotions.

“Umm, because I’m sick. Alana ..” He lost the end of the sentence, unsure what he wanted to say. Keeping quiet and letting Alana talk seemed more important at the moment.

“No, I mean why are you here, in a hospital in Richmond? I—I tried calling Hannibal, but he hadn’t heard from you either, not since your session. I had to get Jack to search area hospitals until we found you.”

Will blinked. Another lie. The last time he had seen Hannibal was after Dr. Sutcliffe’s false diagnosis. Was he right to fear for his life?

“Did .. does Hannibal know I’m here?” Will swallowed a few more ice chips, avoiding Alana’s gaze.

“I called him as soon as we knew. What is going on, Will?”

With a sigh, he turned back towards Alana. Finding a soft smile from the depths of his feelings, Will shook his head, “Nothing. I just .. needed to get away from everything. And then—I had a seizure in the er. The docs sent me for a brain scan. After that, well, they wouldn’t just let me go.” Shrugging, he felt the IV lines move, reminding him about their existence. Them and all the drugs were being pumped into him, to battle everything the encephalitis had already done to him.

~~

A week in the hospital, and Hannibal hadn’t visited once. Alana had insisted of transferring him to a hospital in Baltimore, but both Will and doctors objected.

It was on a drive home that Will had to stop at a rest stop, to vomit into the bushes.

The Copycat killer, the missing organs. Linking it up with the Chesapeake Ripper had seemed easy after that. Recalling that first breakfast with Hannibal, the protein scramble, and Will had to retch once more.

Stumbling back to the car, he slumped against it, pulling a water bottle from the back seat. Returning home mean a return to work, to his dogs. It also mean a return to Hannibal, to the Ripper.

He knew logically that there was no evidence. None. Miriam Lass had been looking into private medical records of Ripper’s known victims, and he was more than sure, that Hannibal had already corrected whatever it was the she uncovered.

Getting Hannibal to confess would be useless. If he was this careful, this connected to the current investigations, he wouldn’t let it slip, no way. Confronting him would no doubt end in Will’s death. Tobias Budge had proven that.

Back on the road, Will tried to understand his motivations. Why lie about Will to Alana? Why the deceit with the brain scans? Why, why, why? What was his agenda, his purpose in manipulating Will?

Whatever it was, Hannibal seemed to be pulling away from him. Will taking control made him pull away.

He recalled a conversation, one session before their last, about how they were both killed. How much had Hannibal talked about it. That, and alienation from Jack, getting immersed in the minds of the killers, Hannibal almost prodding him closer and closer to it all.

Was Hannibal trying to groom a companion? An opponent? Or was he simply playing with food? Will was determined to find it out. Having the knowledge gave him advantage.

He could show Hannibal, that he wasn’t the only one good at manipulation. At playing with food.

~~

Will had been home less than three hours when Jack called him. Abel Gideon, the supposed Chesapeake Ripper had broken out of custody.

Well, this was bound to be interesting.

#hannigram #hannibal #hannigram fic #will graham #hannibal lecter #fanfiction #my fic #i've been thinking about this for so long #so i'm glad it got 2k of words instead of a 500 word ficlet #which wouldn't be bad #but i love how long it got #today has been good for writing #if i can i'll do a follow-up to it #the eventual confrontation

[theseviolentdelightss]

Counting Paths XV

Series Summary: After a lifetime on the run from the Empire, Reader makes a move that could have drastic impacts for both friend and foe. A Reader insert/fanfic. Gifs belong to their respective owners.

Word Count: 6719

Author’s Note: So I’m not going to tip to around it, in the past few months I’ve gone through a very personal, horrifically traumatizing experience that I am still coming to terms with. Depression and anxiety have always been issues I’ve struggled with but I never thought I would one day experience the effects of PTSD. Seeing death, truly seeing it firsthand, changes you as a person and it has taken months for me just to come back around to some sense of normality. Writing this latest bit has helped and I know some of that inner struggle poured over into my writing. Hopefully it’s not too particularly jarring,and as always I am so thankful for those of you that have stuck around for this long. You have no idea how very much it means to me.

-Side note: I took complete unabashed inspiration from one of my favorite television shows of all time in this chapter. Shiny on you if you recognize it.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XIPart XII Part XIII Part XIV

-8 MONTHS LATER-

You awoke to the loud sound of someone banging away in the cargo hold. Most likely Roland, busy securing yet another hidy-hole for whatever you had been sent to fetch this time. That man was like a magician when it came to securing supplies in the most unlikely of spaces. You once saw him retrieve a pallet of medicine hidden beneath your core containment unit. One miss step and he would've gotten a doze of radiation strong enough to kill him a thousand times over. None of that seemed to bother him, even as you watched on petrified, the older man simply shimmied beneath the small crawl space and flung the first container of vials over his shoulder. Leaving you no other option than to leap forward and catch it. This went on another two dozen times until Roland eventually crawled out from under the containment unit like a drunk toddler. Rolling carelessly as he dragged his larger bottom half upwards. The symphony of obscenities that awaited him as soon as he rose to his feet reminded Roland that though he may have surpassed you in rank Songbird was your ship and you were her captain. Considering your recent reinstatement into the Rebel Alliance Roland had no choice but to respect your terms.  

That lasted for about a fortnight.

Rolling over you clung tightly to the sheets. Not yet willing to forego the warmth of your thick blankets to return to the waking world. No matter how elusive it felt at times you had grown to love sleep more in the recent months. 75 percent of the time it left you gasping for air, fumbling off the side of your bed and onto the cold floor below but that remaining 25 percent was the only true escape from reality afforded to you. Everything else was a just poor mans attempt.

Today had been no exception.

Thankfully in your clumsiness you had taken some of your pillows overboard with you and had softened the blow. Nevertheless, you had undoubtedly collected your share of bruises that would likely show their ugly purple faces over the next few days. So there was that to look forward to, how lovely...

Chirping somberly V1-S4 switched from his hibernation and rolled across the small space that was your cabin. Bits of decorations hung over the walls, the flag of your homeworld, a bouquet of Alderaanian flame lilies glowing on the bedside table atop a stack of books you had read easily a dozen times. It wasn't much but it was the closest thing to having a home as you could get; though, even as the thought crossed your mind you knew that wasn't entirely true. Like it or not a small part of you missed your cramped room on Yavin 4. At least there had always been something to do, a project to work on, someone to talk to... Sure you had Roland and the rest of your crew to keep you company but that was different.

You had told yourself you simply missed Theodren. He was your best friend after all and the two of you had missed time to make up for given how long the two of you had been apart in the past. To be separated again so shortly after reuniting felt cruel but war doesn’t wait for things such as sentiment.

War doesn’t wait at all. 

You missed your lunches with Penelope. The sweet mechanic you had befriended after she taught you how to fix your port control a few weeks before your first mission. The girl was so cheerful that any time the two of you met up for lunch or worked on your ship together you couldn’t help but smile. Her kindness was infectious and a welcome change to the coldness you had experienced from other Rebels in the past. After you became one of them again all that changed. Suddenly you had amassed a fair amount of acquaintances during your time on base, most of whom you missed. Still, that did nothing to change the truth of the matter...

The person you found yourself missing the most was Cassian. 

Any time something especially odd happened on a job or Roland got too drunk and began declaring his secret love for show tunes it was Cassian you found yourself wishing you could run to. The two of you had come to share so much of your time together that it felt foreign to have so much apart. As if some part of yourself was missing. This was made all the worse given how you had left things between the two of you. The memory of which you seemed incapable of getting out of your head.

As S4 inched closer to where you lay you're reminded of just how grateful you were to have the loyal droid by your side again. When you had finally been allowed access to him again after months apart it felt as if you were being reunited with a family member that had gone missing. Hands shaking slightly you reached out to place your palm atop the droid’s shiny dome shaped head before gently leaning your forehead against the smooth surface.

“I'm alright buddy.” You reassured S4 as if you were a mother soothing a child. “Just another bad dream.”

S4 hummed happily as you smiled, giving him a gentle pat on the side. Pushing yourself off your knees you gathered your blankets and tossed them back atop your bed before stumbling towards the shower. Hopefully you'll have better luck tonight...

The day passed by as per usual. Rolland had taken over the ships controls while you had busied yourself helping the crew encode your inventory manifest to hide your ship's true cargo in case you ran into Imperial scanners. Nine hours later and your dozenth supply run had went off without a hitch. If everything went according to plan you would be returning to Base 1 with a ship full of enough stolen Imperial power cells to supply an entire Rebellion division for a month.  

Only problem was that flying with Imperial stamped cargo was a death sentence to anyone stupid enough to get caught. Even so, most pilots would rather take the risk of staring down the barrel of a trooper's blaster than traveling through raider territory. Low life pirates that sat out in the darkness of the outer rim waiting to attack and pillage any unsuspecting vessel that wandered their way. Still you had no other choice but to choose the later, set your scanners to their full capacity, and hope you could pass through long enough to make it to the nearest hyperspace lane. It had been months since you last returned to base, and even that had only been for a single night. Just enough time to make a drop before heading back out again. 

After your return from Nar Shaddah you had been busy to say the least. Everything had happened so quickly, one moment you're swearing in as soldier in the Rebel Alliance, again, the next you're in the midst of a shouting match with Cassian. One that left you feeling shaken and uncertain as to where you stood with the captain. Not a word was said to mend what had been broken. Instead settling for uncomfortable silences and unresolved issues. 

You had thought he would be happy. That perhaps it would make up for crashing his last mission so spectacularly. The next day you received your first orders; an immediate mission to help secure a shipment from a core planet that had been secretly aiding the Rebellion for months. Though you still had some reservations about committing to the Alliance's entirely, you were delighted to be doing something other than sitting around twiddling your thumbs. When the time came to leave you searched all over base for Cassian to say goodbye, but the dark eyed rebel was no where to be found.

Thus began a new strange chapter in your life. A smuggler for the Rebellion, who would've thought?

More often than not you and Roland simply served as a single link in a very long chain that connected various Rebel outposts. Picking up supplies from one location just to deliver them to another. It was all part of the Alliances attempt to keep the Empire from pinpointing any potential drop off points. Large quantities would be brought in by ships such as your own on outlying moons and planets with lax security to be smuggled into larger settlements in smaller quantities later. Essentially you were spice runners, only instead of smuggling drugs you were transporting medical supplies, power cells, food. This however was your last in a very long trek across the galaxy. Normally you preferred the sky to staying grounded but you couldn't deny that you were eager to return to Yavin 4.

Two weeks, Mon Monthma had promised you two weeks off the job if you managed to secure the shipments in half the usual time table. A task you had pulled off flawlessly. All that time working with Han and Chewie had made you adept in this line of work. Something you were sure Cassian wouldn't care for. Not that you would know. It had been weeks since the two of you had last spoken.

252 days to be exact.

Everything had been going smoothly. Roland and S4 had navigated a clear course as you triple checked your  hyperdrive when suddenly the alarms began to ring over head. The bright white lights in the hallway illuminated off and on in a dizzying fashion as you ran towards the cockpit. S4 chirped erratically as you ducked your head through the doorway and hurried inside.

“What the hell is going on I thought you two got us around them-”

“It's not Imperial.” Roland said as he spun in his chair, keying into Songbirds own enhanced scanners to bring up a read out of the strange ship that had just entered a spacelane dangerously close to your own.

“Commercial vessel?”

“Looks like it.”

Chirping beside you S4 illuminated a hologram of the vessel in question.

“I'm reading it as an old 908 Trans-Q model.” Rolland's brow furrowed as he read the droid’s intel.

“That doesn't make any sense, I didn't think Trans-Q operated anymore. Weren't they bought out by the Empire?”

Leaning over Roland you tried to get a better look at the ships read out. Anything that might possibly explain why you had suddenly run into a passing ship, whose make was no longer in operation, while traveling an unmapped route, with a cargo full of stolen goods, set for the head quarters of the Rebellion. All of which seemed a bit too coincidental for your liking.

“Yea they were.”

“Do we have a visual?” You asked, S4's low hum quickly answered your question. He did however manage to pull up the ships internal system's processing data, instantly something about it struck you as odd. “Wait, look at their radiation level.”

Leaning closer Roland's eyes trailed down the screen to where you were pointing. The number was more than just suspiciously high, it was unheard of. Utterly unfit for sustaining human life.

“They're operating without their flux stabilizer that's ch'sei...that's suicide.”

Stepping back your eyes were drawn to a small spot in the distance. Growing larger with each passing second. It wasn't often that you truly felt fear. Not because you were especially brave but because the majority of the time you didn't much care if things suddenly ended bloody. Its what you had signed up for after all. You were back in the game. All it takes is one wrong step and you're dead. You knew just how dangerous what you did was; none the less, for the most part you had grown calloused to the fear of death. It was more an inevitability than a concern. That didn't stop your heart from dropping into your stomach as the first beads of cold sweat began to prickle your skin.

“Ravangers.”

Every childhood horror story, every supposed sighting from other pilots, every alleged encounter you had ever heard of Ravangers played in your mind like some twisted nightmare come to life.

“Oh fuck.” Roland swore breathlessly. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...”

“We have to tell the others.” The blood in your veins felt suddenly frigid as you reached for the ships intercom.   With trembling fingers you pressed the button at the base of your ship's controls. Eyes never once straying from the ship in the distance. Its rusty color and dilapidated state gradually coming into view.

“This your captain speaking.” You began, breathing in and out slowly in an attempt to keep your voice calm. In truth, for the first time in months you were completely, and utterly terrified. “We've intercepted another ship, appears to be Ravangers, most likely a raiding party. We haven't been hailed yet and we are holding course so everyone please remain calm. We should be passing them in a few minutes. We'll take it from there.”

Letting go of the intercom button you stepped back, eyes aching from staring so harshly into the dark distance. Digging in your vest pocket you retrieved your com link.

“Zara I need you up here, now.”

Stepping back you stood on unsteady feet for what felt like hours when the sound of Zara coming to a stop beside you shook you from your trance.

“What's going on why are we-” She began, eyes darting to the ship in the distance before falling eerily quite. “Who are they?”

“Ravangers.” You replied coolly.

“Ravangers aren't real.” The young girl scoffed gently. “My grandma used to tell us stories about them to get us to stay in bed at night or do our chores. They're just a myth.”

“Well if grandma says it then it must be true.” Roland muttered sarcastically, busy preparing the ships engines in case you were given no choice but to run.

“They're not myths.” You said, grabbing the young teen by the wrist and forcing her to look you in the eye.

“You're not lying?” Zara asked, all confidence drained from her voice. The majority of the time all the young girl did was glare at you, still fostering a mountain worth of reinstatement towards you over her sister's death. Now; however, the only emotion she wore was one of complete fear. “What happens if they hail us?”

“If they board us...” You sighed, trying to decide rather you should be utterly truthful in the face of impending danger or try and appeal to the young girls age. “They'll flay us alive, feast on our flesh, and sew our entrails into their armor...”

Zara's face turned white, even her darker complexion couldn't hide the noticeable rush of blood. Her hands began to shake as she looked up to you, still just a child, so much youth shone through her eyes that were now wide with fear.

“And if they're feeling generous they'll do it in that order.”

You finished, your grip on Zara's wrist loosening as you took her hand in your own. Pealing back her fingers you placed a small dark capsule in her palm. Though she shook her head at first you folded her fingers over the deadly pill and held them there.

“Just in case.” You spoke gently.

“What about you?” She asked, her voice steady though she appeared anything but.

“Songbird is my ship, I'm her captain. I won't abandon her.”

“They're hailing us!” Roland shouted, immediately sending a rush of adrenaline through your body. Letting go of the young girl you threw yourself behind the controls and began deploying counter measures.

“They've got magnetic grappling!” Zara exclaimed, pointing to the electric arm that had began to stretch out from the ships left side.

“Yes thank you I can see that!” Though your voice was laced with sarcasm you knew that if you wanted to survive this you had only one option. Slamming your fist against the intercom button you shouted a warning. “Quick, everyone find something to hold on to!”

“They're on us!” Zara's voice was becoming frantic. A sound you hadn't heard since the night the two of you met. 

“S4 cut the hydraulics!” You yelled for the droid who made quick work of your order. Efficient as ever.

“What the hell are you doing?” Roland watched as you flipped various switches, unsure of what it was you were hoping to accomplish.

“You'll see.” You couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity of what you were attempting. “Roland as soon as I say so, you make the jump. Now hold on!”

Pulling the yolk tightly to the side you engaged your reverse thrusters on one side while going full burn on the other. Immediately the ship whipped into a jarringly fast turn that found you suddenly behind the Ravanger ship that had only seconds before been in front of you. Yanking the yolk back to the opposite side you managed to steady the ship long enough to align your coordinates, albeit backwards.

“Please let this work.” You prayed, switching the ships directional system into neutral. “Now!”

The moment you shouted the words you felt the force of the leap pressing you into your seat as your ship made its jump into hyperspace. Albeit in reverse. A moment of silence hung in the air before being quickly replaced with shouts and whoops of excitement. Most people go their entire lives without ever crossing paths with a Ravanger, let alone an entire raiding party. They were a rarity, even in the outer rim. They're community was such a small offset of a larger cultural species that it came has no surprise that most people thought of them as myths but you knew better. You had seen their handiwork before. Not a sight you would soon forget and yet you had left them burning in your wake.

“That was amazing!” Zara squealed as she leap up and down before wrapping her arms around you where you sat, still partially in shock, and pulled you out of your seat.

“As much as I hate to inflate your ego that was pretty damn impressive kid.” Roland smiled, a sight you usually only witnessed at 3 in the morning after two pints too many, or anytime someone fell. The man had an oddly specific sense of humor to say the least. As he ruffled your hair with his calloused hand you thought for a moment that perhaps you had actually died upon making the jump and this was all some sort of weird afterlife experience. It wasn't until you started to fall asleep that night, half drunk and giggling, did you realize for sure you weren't dead or dreaming. Puking your guts out will bring you back to reality all too quick.

As you broke into the atmosphere of Yavin 4 the following day you were still mildly hung over yet happy all the same. You hadn't seen Theodren in months and had been too far out to safely contact your best friend for nearly six weeks. You had expected him to be there waiting in the hanger when you returned. What you hadn't expected was for him to be surrounded by so many of your fellow comrades. One look at Roland was all it took, you really need to start taking his communication privileges away from him when he drinks. Apparently everyone on base had heard of your quick maneuvering with the Ravangers the night before. Though you should have known better you forgot how much of a superstitious lot a fair amount of the Rebellion was. It reminded you of your old grandmother, sitting in her knitting chair, reading the smudges left behind in her tea cup. This recent run in would undoubtedly have their interests peaked.

As Theodren spread his arms wide you returned his hug almost as tightly as you had the last time the two of you had reunited. This time though, when he pulled back to look at your face Theodren glimpsed more than just excitement. He saw exhaustion, anxiety, even a lingering hint of fear that seemed to dull the flecks of gold in your eyes. He wanted to ask right there what was wrong but knew better.

“You look ghastly.” He quipped, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin as the two of you pulled apart.

“Still look better than you.”

“Hm, I don't know if I'd go quite that far.” Theodren continued. “I do believe there are some sects of society that would perhaps find this-” Taking his hand he gestured up and down your frame. You were covered in soot and grease from working on your ship all night. Trying to repair the damage done by your daring Ravanger escape. “Attractive. I'm sure you'd be a shoe in for a beauty pageant on Jakku.”

With that you gave your old friend a playful shove as you swung your bag over your shoulder.

“I get it! I need a shower.” You shouted jokingly as you made your way towards the open hanger.

“Why not two?” Theodren replied, cupping his hands around his mouth to project the sound of his voice as you stepped further away. “Make up for lost time.”

Chuckling softly you shook your head. Eyes scanning the nearby ships for a particular U-Wing. When you failed to spot it you felt a small surge of comfort, at least he hadn't simply known of your return and chosen not to greet you along with the others. Surely, he wasn't still that mad... Moving through the crowded hanger and hallways you were welcomed back by a number of familiar faces, some new. Perhaps word of your Ravanger escape had made the rounds more than you had originally thought. It made sense truthfully, other than war and work there wasn't a whole lot for people to talk about on base. Conversations could get dull fairly quickly so whenever something particularly unusual or spectacular happened it was typically the main topic of conversations until something else came along or people simply got bored.

Keying in your door code you were welcomed by the cool darkness of your room instantly. The only light came from the narrow windows and through it was still quite warm outside the inside was blessedly cool. Like a puppet whose strings have been cut you lost what little hold you had left the moment the door shut behind you. Your knees began to wobble uncontrollably, forcing you to grasp the corner of your bed as your bag tumbled to the floor. Stumbling forward your legs eventually gave out as you slid down the side of your bed. Now that you were alone, in a place you felt safe from prying eyes, the reality of yesterday's events hit you like a smack in the face. Leaving you shaking as you fumbled behind you to pull a pillow close to your chest. You had been so distant, so detached for weeks that this sudden burst of intense emotion was almost too much to bare. Burying your face inside the pillow you let lose the scream that you had been holding in for hours. The thick cotton did a fair job of muffling the sound of your screams but did nothing to hide the creak of the floor behind you. 

In an instant you sprung to your feet. Turning on a dime and throwing the pillow in your hands directly at the intruders face.

“The hell?” Cassian's accent was instantly recognizable. Leaving you feeling like a fool as your hands flew to cover your mouth. It wasn't till you noticed Cassian's state that you felt your cheeks begin to burn as you turned your eyes towards the ceiling.

“I didn't think you were here.” You stuttered.

“I just got out of the shower you idiot!” He hissed, dropping the pillow in his hands to retrieve his towel from off the floor. Quickly securing it around his waste and holding it tight with one hand just to be safe.

“Yup, kinda put that one together.”

“You're not supposed to be back yet. They said you wouldn't get here till this evening.” Cassian shook his head as he turned away from you. Moving over to his dresser where he began to dig out his daily uniform. Trying his best not to pay you much attention as you sat yourself on the corner of your bed. Gaze still firmly in the opposite direction. Hopefully he had done a good enough job of straightening the comforter and pillows that you wouldn't notice the impression his body had left. Nearly every day he worked on base he would find himself taking his lunch hour to sneak away to his room, crawl atop your bed, and escape the world for a moment. It was the only time he felt any sense of peace and even after all these weeks a small hint of your perfume lingered in the linen.

“Made the jump quicker than expected.” You replied, pealing off your jacket before falling backwards atop your bed. Relishing the comfort of it as you spread out your arms to stretch.

“What happened? You run into another old flame you'd like to impress?” Cassian scoffed before instantly wishing he could take it back. In the reflection of his mirror he could see you spread out on your back. Pale curls cascading down your side as you clung to pillow he had always used.

“Ravangers.” You mumbled, kicking off your boots as you pulled the pillow in your arms tighter.

“What?” Cassian asked, spinning on his heal and stepping towards your bed. Surely he hadn't heard you correctly.

“We ran into Ravangers.” You repeated, sitting up to find Cassian standing noticeably closer than before and thankfully at least partially dressed. His shirt still gripped in his left hand. A look of confusion and something else washed over his face. For a moment you thought perhaps it was concern but that didn't much fit into the current state of affairs when it came to yourself and Cassian. As much as you hated to admit it, it seemed he was indeed still pissed.

Leave it to a man to hold a grudge after 8 months of zero communication.

“We had to run so of course they had to chase us.” You explained, keeping your hands busy playing with a fray in the threading of your comforter. Strange you hadn't noticed it before, normally little things like that would drive the perfectionist inside of you crazy. “Fried my hydraulics but I was able to make the jump. Shaved a few hours off my time.”

“Aren't you impressive?”

Though you had tried to hide it, you were hurt by Cassian's words. A truth that undoubtedly showed on your face. After everything you had been through the past few months, after everything you had done for his cause, and still he treated you as an inconvenience.

“Why do you have to be like that?” You muttered, turning up to face him. His own expression unreadable to you. “I just wanted to come home.”

And there it was. The slow knife that was gradually killing the both of you. Cassian knew what you had meant. What home truly was but that was not a responsibility he wanted. Not because he didn't share the same sentiment but because he couldn't bare to be the one responsible for taking that home away.

“Yea, well welcome home.” Was all he could think to say before tossing on his shirt and boots before hurrying out the door. Your very presence was suffocating to him. Leaving him no option but to hurry off in no particular direction.

Sighing you kept still for a few moments. Allowing it all to sink in as you stared blankly ahead. A part of you wanted to cry while the other half wanted to scream and break everything in sight. Instead you settled for reaching inside your duffel and pulling out a bottle of Tevraki Whiskey. A parting gift from your crew for getting them out of a particularly sticky situation. Pulling out the cork with your teeth you spit it across the room where it rolled beneath Cassian's bed. The inside of the refresher was still warm as you stepped in and turned on the shower. Discarding bits of clothing as you gulped down the smooth whiskey. Allowing it to burn your throat as you cherished each swig.

An hour later you had dried your hair and slipped into your usual casual attire with the full intent of meeting Theodren and the others at the cantina on base. All it took was sitting down to pull on your boots and you were out like a light. Head crashing into your pillow as the exhaustion you had fought suddenly overtook you.

When your eyes finally began to flutter open a handful of hours later it took a moment for you to gather your surroundings before remembering where you were. Home. Except something felt off. Unnatural. As your gaze drifted around the room your heart dropped into your stomach before returning with a vengeance. It was him, again. After all this time.

Instinctively you willed yourself to sit up, to leap out of bed but you were frozen. You couldn't move, couldn't even scream for help. It was an old sensation, and one you hadn't missed. Of course you had been told what it truly was: just a simple sleeping sickness that wasn't entirely uncommon, particularly in those suffering from past trauma. Still, waking up to find yourself paralyzed, staring at the bloody specter of someone you loved, is not an easy experience to rationalize.

As the door swung open, casting a warm glow into the room you felt as if you were drowning at sea and had spotted a ship in the distance. In walked Cassian, nonchalantly as ever, hardly so much a glance in your direction. Already you could feel the tears begin to swell in the corner of your eyes. As he turned towards the refresher you prayed he would catch a glimpse of your face, perhaps see the anguish burning beneath your frozen exterior. You thought for sure all hope was lost and that you were doomed to ride this one out alone; however long it may last, when Cassian's feet came to an abrupt stop. Slowly turning his head to peer through the darkness in your direction.

Cassian had been grateful when he came in to find you sleeping. Thankful that he would have more time to think of a proper apology, not some drunken slurred excuse which was currently all he had to offer. He even thought you were talking in your sleep again. Right up to the point that he was about to walk away entirely when he heard it. Such a pitiful whimper, like a fawn separated from its mother. It wasn't the normal chaotic mumbling of your sleep talking. This sounded deliberate. Desperate. Stumbling forward Cassian switched on your bedside lamp and found the look of terror on your face far more sobering than any cold shower he could've taken.

“What is it?” He asked, kneeling at your side. As much as you wanted to turn your head to face him all you could do was peer out of the corner of your eyes. Trying to focus on him entirely, ignoring the other pale face that stared out from the darkness. Cold dead eyes looking at you and seeing nothing. “What's wrong?”

Cassian did his best to speak calmly as he settled on the edge of the bed. As his hands fell to your shoulders he found them tense as stone; yet, he could see the rapid rate of your heart as the vein in your neck throbbed with each passing beat. His fingers found their way to your wrist in the dark. Easily taking your pulse as it thumped against the tips of his fingers with far too much force and speed. You were more than just terrified, you were petrified. Nearly on the verge of shock. He knew you had issues with sleep, he had even witnessed some himself,  but nothing like this. It broke him to see you this afraid, this helpless.

“You're okay.” He whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your left arm while the other maintained its grip on your right shoulder. “You're okay, just breathe in and out.”

The more Cassian spoke the calmer you felt, as if each word had been a tiny doze of peace, of comfort. As he inched closer, the warm light washing over his face so that you could finally see him clearly, you felt your strength returning. Taking your hand in his own Cassian could feel as each digit began to crawl across his palm.  You could sense your body shaking as you drew on every ounce of strength inside you to propel yourself upwards. Arms draping around Cassian as you fell into his grasp. In the haze you couldn't think of anything else that had happened between the two of you. None of the bickering or resentment even registered. In that moment he was all you had.

A life preserver in a sea of nothing.

Your only tangible connection to reality. The one thing you could feel other than fear. So you clung tightly to him. Fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt as your body continued to shake.

“It's alright, it's alright.” He repeated softly into your ear, arms inching around your waist as you pulled yourself closer until you were practically sitting in his lap. He could feel your chest rise and fall against his own. Your panicked breath against his neck. The warm tears that escaped your eyes to cascade down his cheek from where your faces were pressed against each other.

Cassian tried to remember the last time he felt this close to someone. It was only a moment later, as he buried his face into your hair, the sweet smell of your shampoo filling his senses, that Cassian realized the last time he had been this close to anyone was you. The memory of that night came flooding back to him, filling his head with all manner of thoughts. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before your body finally began to still, the grip of your hands loosening as you slowly lent back to face him. Instinctively Cassian found himself pushing the stray strands of hair out of your face. Reaching up you took a hold of his hand gently. Your gaze now locked with his.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely a breath, so quite that had Cassian not been so close you aren't sure he would have heard it.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, rolling his hand over in your own to hold it gently between the two of you.

“Yea I'm...” Damn you wished you could lie to him, tell him that everything was fine and that he could go to bed. Not to worry about you considering you weren't his problem. He had been so cold to you earlier after all. But looking into those brown eyes of his all you wanted to do was stay fixed, planted exactly where you were until the tenderness that hid beneath his gaze had rid you of every terrible thought, every horrible memory. “I was so afraid...”

“It was just a bad dream.”

“No I-I mean the Ravangers.” You stuttered. Cassian furrowed his brow, looking down for a moment as you struggled to catch your breath. Your body still trembling gently beneath his hands. “I saw that ship and I was terrified.”

“Anyone would be.” Cassian assured you, his voice soft as he spoke.

“It wasn't just that I was scared of dying Cass, it was...” Chewing your bottom lip you found yourself at a loss, unsure if this was the sort of thing you should be sharing with someone, let alone Cassian of all people.

“What?” He asked tenderly, once again reaching up to tuck another rebellious curl out of your face.

“It was everything I was leaving behind.” You sighed, looking away from Cassian's piercing gaze. “So much left unfinished, so many words left unsaid...”

The moment the words left your lips you felt the heavy thump of Cassian's heart against your chest. Neither of you had moved more than an inch apart since you had awoken entirely, a realization that seemed to only strike you now as you became hyper aware of how the close the two of you were. It had been months since the two of you had last been this close yet it wasn't until now that you realized just how much you had subconsciously yearned for it.

How very much at home you finally felt.    

“Can you stay?” You asked hesitantly, nearly certain that you had over stepped your bounds. “Please?”

As Cassian sat there, allowing your words a moment to sink in he thought for a moment that he surely must be dreaming. How many times had he fallen asleep after a long day to find himself in a moment similar to this. How many times had he wished he could have gone back in time and been honest with you about everything. About his job, about his fears, and how he hadn't felt like himself since that night the two of you had kissed. How he had lied to himself by convincing you it meant nothing. All he could think to do was touch you. Gently he rested his palm against your cheek, thumbing away a single delayed tear that had fallen. Looking you deep in the eye he nodded softly.

Cassian maneuvered the two of you smoothly, maintaining his hold on you as he laid the both of you back onto your bed. Moving your arm out from under him you waited until he had kicked off his boots and pealed off his outer shirt to leave only a cotton tank underneath before pulling the blankets over the two of you. As Cassian laid back down you weren't sure if he intended to keep his current distance. As if he had read your mind the Captain turned his head to face you, trying to read your expression in the dark before turning his attention to the ceiling. His heart suddenly in his throat. He felt like a teenager again, too scared to speak up. Instead he inched his hand closer to yours, bit by bit until he felt the soft flesh of your fingers aside his own. Like two dancers in sync each of you laced your fingers together. A feeling like warm liquor filled your stomach as you rolled onto your side, mustering up the courage to pull the captain's arm around your waist as you nuzzled yourself into his chest.

The sigh of relief that left your lungs was only mirrored by Cassian's as his arms again wrapped tightly around you. Bringing your body flush against his own. With your ear pressed against him you could hear every beat of Cassian's heart. The comforting repetition easing you into a sense of calm. His strong arms around you made you feel safe for the first time in months, allowing sleep to quickly creep up on you. Your eyes had almost closed when you looked up only to find Cassian watching you. Too tired himself to make an attempt at hiding it.

“I missed you.” Smiling softly, your eyes flutter once, twice before closing entirely. Calm, steady breaths escape your lips as Cassian tries to get a grip on himself. Just that morning he had sworn to himself that he would not allow himself to fall back into whatever it was the two of you had going on. He had even forced himself to say those rude, hell mildly cruel things to you, in the hopes to stave you off. Eight months he had spent convincing himself that there was nothing between the two of you and not even twelve hours after landing you were back in his arms. The one place he swore he wouldn't find you. The one place he so desperately wanted to keep you. It was torture feeling this way. A sweet pain that he found himself wanting again and again. There was a word for it, he knew that for certain, he just wasn't ready to say it. Not even to himself. Instead he settled for pulling you closer if possible, relishing the way you instinctively shifted in his arms, hands gripping the fabric of his clothing as if even in sleep you wanted him closer.

Just as he had that night on his ship so many months ago he found himself leaning down and pressing his lips against your forehead. That same surge of adrenaline pulsing through his veins leaving him with no hope of denial. Giving in, if only for tonight, Cassian rested his head atop yours and slept soundly for the first time in years.

#cassian x reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #rogue one reader insert #rogue one fanfic #cassian imagine #SW Fanfic #swfanfic #sw reader insert #Counting Paths

[artificialqueens]

The Language of Flowers, second half of Chapter 1 (Multi) - Albatross

AN: Alright, AQ and AO3 are finally caught up to each other. I’m pretty much set, as far as ordering the chapters goes, on having the Witney-centric parts labeled as .5 when I post on here (2.5, 3.5, 4.5, etc). The Witney side should start popping up in Chapter 2, Chapter 3 at the latest, because I’m trying to figure out right now where’s the best place to break up what I have written into new chapters vs. different sections. Its probably going to be late next month before I post the next chapter anywhere because I want to get most of the story written and reviewed before I start posting on a regular basis. I’ve made that mistake plenty of times already so I’m finally starting to learn from it. I’ll let you know the posting schedule in the next chapter! And thanks to everyone for the support, it really means a lot, honestly. I’m beyond flattered that you guys take the time to read these stories :)

With the help of the other women, Jinkx quickly became accustomed to the shop and settled into her new job with relative ease. In just a few weeks, both she and Ivy had garnered quite a reputation as being on par with some of the best florists in town and foot traffic for the shop had increased several times over. Their unique arrangements combined with the very reasonable pricing made the store a local hot spot, especially among those who preferred to support ‘family’ businesses rather than chain stores. Pretty soon there was even talk of hiring a third assistant but to date, no serious prospects had emerged. If she had to be honest with herself, Jinkx actually preferred it that way. She liked feeling busy while she worked; the days where the shop was empty and there were no orders to be filled were pretty boring to her.

Plus, and it was entirely selfish; she liked the dynamic that was going on between the four of them. She adored spending time with Ivy as they worked on arrangements together, she loved listening to Sharon and Violet bicker endlessly about the stupidest things, she even looked forward to the times when Violet would fall into 'business mode’ and argue with suppliers for better prices or products…also, quickly becoming her favorite was the few minutes in the morning where it was just her and Sharon chatting in the break room before the shop opened for the day.

The first time Jinkx was officially left in charge of opening the shop, she was quite surprised to see the lights already on in the break room. Part of her had thought that perhaps one of the other women simply forgot to turn it off the previous night and was tempted to leave it at that but curiosity compelled her to walk into the room and investigate. To her astonishment, she found Sharon sitting at the table, mug in one hand and cigarette in the other, dressed yet again in a rather thin camisole and tiny shorts that hugged tightly at every curve. A book laid open in front of her but Jinkx wondered if even a single word was registering with her, if the glazed-over look in her eyes was anything to judge by.

She was almost backing out of the room in embarrassment when Sharon’s voice echoed in her ears, “Gonna grab a mug or just keep staring?”

Meekly, Jinkx shuffled into the room with pink cheeks and poured herself a cup of coffee (black because she could feel Sharon’s eyes on her). As soon as she turned around from the coffee pot, her suspicions of being watched were confirmed and her gaze locked with Sharon’s. The older woman gave a small jerk of her head towards the empty chair across from her and within seconds Jinkx found herself facing the blonde and trying not to let her eyes drop any lower than Sharon’s slightly smeared crimson lips.

The situation felt vaguely reminiscent of the few times she had been called to the principal’s office as a child but like then, she was certain she was not in trouble. Even with that rational line of thought, Jinkx still felt an unusual queasiness in her stomach as she sat opposite from Sharon. Noticing her discomfort, the older woman gave her a calming smile and told her, “Don’t look so scared, I just wanted to check in with you.”

Feeling somewhat at ease, Jinkx answered the polite inquiries, slowly allowing herself to become more relaxed in Sharon’s presence. Before she realized it, their work-related conversation had turned into a personal one albeit in a somewhat limited fashion. They were just beginning to discuss less generic topics when Jinkx chanced a glance down at her phone and found that the shop was due to open in just a few minutes. She excused herself, downing the last of her lukewarm coffee in a quick gulp, and dashed out to finish preparing the shop for the first wave of customers.

Slowly but surely, the early morning conversations became a welcome part of Jinkx’s routine. Whenever she found her name listed under the rotation for the first shift, Jinkx felt a little jolt of anticipation for another chance to chat with her boss. That wasn’t to say they didn’t speak during their afternoon or night shifts, it was just that those conversations tended to be more subdued. It was the peace and solitude as they conversed over their coffee that Jinkx felt she really got to know Sharon, blunt behavior aside. Ivy and Violet would gladly fill the afternoon or evening with their own chatter, but Jinkx felt the morning ought to be reserved for Sharon alone.

In the beginning though, Jinkx was admittedly a bit suspicious of the behavior. A few weeks after their coffee breaks had become a regular thing, paranoia creeped at the edges of Jinkx’s mind and she decided to broach the topic with Ivy. She longed to know if Sharon was just being courteous or if she actually was trying to be friendly in her own brusque way.

“Hey Ives,” the redhead began one day as they worked in the alcove on the day’s orders, “When you open the shop in the morning…do you ever see Sharon in the break room?”

“Mm…sometimes,” Ivy said distractedly as she carefully positioned the more delicate flowers of her bouquet amongst the filler greenery.

“Does she…do anything while she’s in there?” Jinkx asked, trying to sound casual as she cut the stems for her newest project.

Tying the ribbon around her vase, Ivy replied, “Usually she’s just parked in front of the coffee pot…I think I’ve seen her smoking at the table once or twice. Why?”

Flustered, Jinkx covered for herself by saying, “I was just wondering…I’ve seen her back there when I open…Does she ever talk to you?”

Ivy’s head immediately shot up at the question and she took a moment to study Jinkx’s expression. Coming to the entirely wrong conclusion, Ivy said sympathetically, “Oh, Jinkx, it’s nothing personal! She’s just not much of a talker in the morning. Neither is Violet really. Those two are practically zombies whenever they’re up that early. I don’t think they really wake up until closer to lunch, to be honest.”

Blushing, Jinkx muttered, “That’s not really-I mean…Thanks, Ivy.”

“Try talking to her in the afternoons,” Ivy put in helpfully, “I’m sure she’ll be happy to chat then. And really, don’t worry about it; she likes you, so does Violet…and me of course!” she added with a bright smile.

All Jinkx could do was nod and hope her face wasn’t as red as it felt. She had no idea how to explain to Ivy that she had the completely wrong idea as to what Sharon was like with her in the mornings; a zombie, yes, but more than willing to chat. As that realization dawned on her, it made those moments she shared with her boss feel just a little more special. Particularly as Sharon was occasionally willing to lower her guard and reveal some of the anxieties she has about running the shop. Most of it was pretty normal; will business keep up, do they have enough security at night, and the most recent cause of concern; should they hire another assistant? Sharon was worried about the financial aspects of adding another florist and the more interpersonal reasons; would lightning strike a third time and provide someone that is both talented and fits in with the shop?

Either luckily or unluckily, Sharon didn’t have to ponder the situation for very long before Violet took a hand yet again and hired their third and final addition to the shop’s family; a cute little blonde that sounded as though she were fresh off the boat.

Jinkx had just walked through the front door to begin her afternoon shift when she heard Sharon’s sarcastic voice resonating from behind the counter, “Let me guess, this one’s name is Daisy or Lily or some shit?”

Jinkx could practically hear the smirk through Violet’s tone as she replied, “Nope…it’s Courtney.”

“Right,” Sharon said un-amused, “And what’s her last name then?”

“'Act’,” the blonde replied politely. Even though it was just one word, her accent was quite apparent and it seemed to catch both Jinkx and Sharon by surprise.

Jinkx did her best to remain unobtrusive as the two owners hashed things out but every so often she found her eyes wandering back to the Aussie as she set to work on the day’s orders. From the brief glances she stole towards the front of the shop, she quite surprised by how adorable the young woman was. It was rather obvious by now that she had not expected to be interviewed that day (or perhaps interrogated is more appropriate) but she still looked very well put together. Her entire look was not as meticulously crafted as Violet’s but the two could easily evaluated on the same scale with little distinction.

Today Violet was wearing a very unique, if somewhat vintage, dress that undoubtedly would turn heads when she left the shop while Courtney had on a more casual, off-the-shoulder cream sweater and dark jeans. Violet was in her usual plain stilettos that gave her at least an extra 4 inches while Courtney made due with a pair of strappy kitten heels that could easily be mistaken for sandals. Her hair was left in loose curls that fell to her mid back while Violet’s was carefully styled and pinned up to keep from brushing against her neck as she worked. The final difference between the two was their choice in make up. Courtney clearly favored a more natural look, almost as if she weren’t wearing any at all, whereas Violet sharply contrasted with her very exact, very precise style using bolder colors perfectly contoured to suit her face. In all the two looked like complete opposites, yet standing together they seemed to complement each other very well.

Even with the distance she kept from the three, Jinkx could see that Courtney was feeling quite intimidated by the older woman. Still, she was trying her best to make a good first impression and kept her bright smile firmly in place as Sharon glanced suspiciously between her and Violet. Jinkx was fully expecting the owners to escort the young blonde to the work benches for the same type of trial run she and Ivy had been given but to her utter shock, Sharon simply gave a defeated sigh and turned around to begin printing off another copy of the new employee forms. Her jaw actually dropped slightly as Sharon handed over the papers without a fight and began instructing the Aussie where to sign and initial. Jinkx couldn’t even bring herself to pretend to work as she watched the older blonde glaring at her business partner in silence as Courtney focused on completing the paperwork as quickly as possible.

As soon as she was done, both she and Violet left the shop rather quickly with Violet pausing to send a pointedly smug smirk towards Sharon. The second the door had shut, the older woman bolted away from the counter and called out to Jinkx to watch the shop for a few minutes while she took a smoke break. She nodded her head in confirmation but she doubted Sharon saw it as she sped across the shop’s floor towards the back. Jinkx longed to follow after her to try and talk or calm her down, her heart actually ached to do so, but her body remained firmly in place. She had never seen anyone so obviously seething before; it was almost a wonder that she had kept her voice and expression as calm as she did while Violet and Courtney were present.

Within a few seconds of Sharon entering the back room, Ivy came bursting through the door as though she were being pursued by an unspeakable monster. Spotting Jinkx at the work tables, she immediately made her way over to find out what the hell had happened in the 10 short minutes she had been back there taking a break. “We have a new assistant,” Jinkx replied ominously.

#albatross #shinkx #witney #trixya #one-sided jivy #jinkx monsoon #sharon needles #willam belli #courtney act #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #ivy winters #fluff #angst #flowershop au #rpdr fanfiction #the language of flowers #lesbian au

[harlanshake22-blog]

Shatter me

Summary

As Shatter Me begins, Juliette Ferrars is a teenaged girl locked in a cell at an asylum for a crime she accidentally committed years ago. She’s starting to lose her mind from the isolation, but one day, the guards tell her she is getting a cellmate. She is worried when she finds out that the cellmate is a young man named Adam. She knows she remembers him from somewhere when they meet, but she cannot figure out from where. At first, she is scared of him, and Adam behaves aggressively, taking over the one bed and blanket in the cell and leaving her to fend for herself. However, their attitudes towards each other soften after he burns his hand on a hot plate and she patches him up. She then starts teaching him how to survive in the facility. She shows him how to get a quick shower, and he returns her bed and blanket when he sees she is cold. She remains haunted by her odd memories of him, but does not ask him about it.

One day, the soldiers come into the cell to take Juliette away. It is revealed that Adam is a soldier and a spy, working for the Reestablishment, the totalitarian government regime. She is taken to Sector 45, where she meets its leader, Warner. He wants her to use her deadly touch to destroy the rebels in exchange for a life of ease and riches. While she is horrified by the idea, Warner wants her to see what her life could be like in the compound and assigns Adam as her bodyguard.

In the compound, Juliette finds herself with every comfort, but rebuffs Adam’s attempts to get her to cooperate with Warner. She later finds out that Adam was beaten by Warner for her refusal, and decides to play along for now, dressing up and looking for a way out. She finds the notebook she had in her cell and learns that Adam is really trying to help her. He is moved into her new apartment, and she learns that Adam can touch her without being hurt. The two of them become closer, eventually starting a romantic relationship. Warner continues to press Juliette to join his side. She is horrified by his brutal actions, such as his sacrifice of one of his own men to her poison touch. Warner continues to put Juliette through sadistic tests of her power, and she and Adam begin putting together a plan to escape. They make their run for it during a drill, but during their escape, it is revealed that Warner is immune to Juliette’s touch as well. They escape and find a tank Adam hid; they flee to his home. There, Juliette is introduced to Adam’s younger brother. Soon a soldier named Kenji seeks refuge in their home after being tortured by Warner for information. He tells them to flee. Soon soldiers arrive at the home seeking the fugitives. Juliette, Adam, James, and the injured Kenji flee, but they are caught, and Adam is shot.

Juliette is dragged off, and Warner proceeds to hit on her, expressing his excitement over being able to touch her. She steals his gun while he is distracted and shoots him. She flees and finds a badly injured, tortured Adam. They steal a car, rescue James and Kenji, and flee to a safe haven that Kenji knows. At the facility, the injured are treated and Juliette is sedated after becoming frantic. She wakes up to a man trying to ask her questions, but will not answer anything until she sees her friends. Kenji assures her that they are safe. Soon, she is taken by her guard, Winston, to meet Castle, the rebel leader. Castle informs her that this location is called Omega Point, a safe haven for people who have special abilities. She is one of fifty-six gifted people. Castle is another, having telekinesis. He is organizing a rebellion against The Reestablishment. She learns that Kenji can become invisible, and Winston can stretch his body. Adam is healed, and Juliette is given a suit that allows her to touch others. Armed with the suit and a new confidence in herself, Juliette is ready to join the resistance.

Qoutes

“My life is four walls of missed opportunities poured in concrete molds.” (Page 1)

-From the begging of the story Juliette Ferrars is a teenage girl locked in a cell at an asylum for a crime she accidentally committed years ago. She said that she is in the four walls and no one can hear her.

“Adam stares at me so long I begin to blush. He tips my chin up so I meet his eyes. Blue blue blue boring into me. His voice is deep, steady. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh." (Page 1)

-In the story Adam look at her and she feels like she nervous she can’t understand her feeling that way and she always think that Adam would kill her. She never trusts Adam.

“All I ever wanted was to reach out and touch another human being not just with my hands but with my heart.” (Page 1)

-In the story she wanted dream like she can see outside and try to touch human with their hands.

“Raindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat. That I have one, too.” (Page 2)

-She said that her room is heavy with the scent of wet stone, upturned soil; the air is dank and earthy. She takes a deep breath and tiptoe to the window only to press her nose against the cool surface. Feel my breath fog up the glass. Close my eyes to the sound of a soft pitter-patter rushing through the wind.

“You can't touch me," I whisper. I'm lying, is what I don't tell him. He can touch me, is what I'll never tell him. Please touch me, is what I want to tell him.” (Page 2)

-She wants Adam to touch her but she can’t tell this to Adam because she scared to Adam that time when they both in the darkness place to take a shower but she thinks that Adam could kill her in that place.

“I've been screaming for years and no one has ever heard me.” (Page 3)

-When Adam and Juliette is in the darkness place to take a shower, she taught that Adam will kill her but she is wrong Adam feel her safe and she said that quote line because no one can bring her to that place, no one can hear her. And because of her cellmates she realizes that there is man can hear her now.

“Hope is hugging me, holding me in its arms, wiping away my tears and telling me that today and tomorrow and two days from now I will be just fine and I'm so delirious I actually dare to believe it.”(Page 4)

-She is hoping that everyone can understand her that can hug her and comfort her because no one can see her even her family or parents.

“Someone picked up the sun and pinned it to the sky again, but every day it hangs a little lower than the day before. It's like a negligent parent who only knows one half of who you are. It never sees how its absence changes people. How different we are in the dark.” (Page 6)

Vocabulary

• Dank

Adjective

Origin: Middle English Danke.

First use: 1573

: Wet and cold in way that is unpleasant.

“The air is dank” Chapter II

• Pitter-patter

Noun

Origin: Reduplication of 4patter.

First use: 15th century

: A quick series of light sound.

“Close my eyes to the sound of a soft pitter-patter” Chapter II

• Cloak

Noun

Origin: middle English cloke, from Anglo-French cloque bell, cloak, from Medieval Latin clocca bell; from its shape

First use: 13th Century

: A piece of clothing that is use as a coat, that has no sleeves, and that worn over that shoulders and attached at the neck.

“My eyes to begin to adjust in the artificial cloak night” Chapter III

• Clench

Verb

Origin: Middle English, from old English- clencan; akin to old English clingan to cling.

First use: 13th century

: To set (something) in a tightly close position.

“The clenches and unclenches his jaw. “Chapter IV

• Gnawing

Verb

Origin: Middle English gnawen, from old English gnagan; akin to Old High German gnagaw to gnaw.

First use: Before 12th century

“There’s an ache in pit of stomach that’s gnawing on my herres.” Chapter 11

• Resentful

Adjective

First use: 1656

: having or showing a feeling of anger or displeasure about someone or something unfair.

“Resentful eyes” Chapter 12

• Buckle

Verb

First use: 14th century

: To fasten (something, such as a belt) with a buckle.

“My bones begin to buckle.” Chapter 13

• Flatter

Verb

Origin: Middle English flateren, from anglo-french flater to lap, flatter, of Germanic origin; akin to Old high German flaz flat.

First use: 13th century

: To praise (someone) in way that is not sincere.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Chapter 15

• Etch

Verb

Origin: Dutch etsen, from German atzen to etch, corrode, from Old High German azzen to feed; akin to Old High German ezzen to eat- more eat.

First use: 1634

: To produce a patter, design, etc., by using a powerful liquid (cold and acid) to cut the surface of metal or glass.

“Fletcher’s face is etched in permanent humour as he crumble the ground. Chapter 16

#education #educator #literary #storytime

[chimchimchoo]

Paper Cranes :: 2

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 1,920

Pair: Jimin x Yoongi

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 (of 7)

“Every Monday, Park Jimin would come into his white, sterile hospital room and leave a small paper crane at the end of his bed.”

The day was dark; the Sun was hidden away behind a blanket of thick, grey clouds. The birds outside were quiet and the wind was still. If the temperature dropped any lower, it could snow outside. Yoongi never had the opportunity to go outside and see the snow, as he always spent time in the hospital or locked himself in his bedroom, focused on writing music.

He thought about what it would be like, to bury his hands into the fluffy, white substance, to see his own nose turn pink and watch the fog come out of his mouth whenever he exhaled. He daydreamed about a snowball fight, or building a small snowman with a rock for a nose instead of a carrot.

Instead, Yoongi sat in his bed, sipping hot peach tea with the soft whirring of the oxygen machine beside him. A small knock interrupted the silence but he didn’t flinch. He was used to nurses coming in and out to check his vital signs and make sure the machines functioned normally. Yoongi kept his eyes on the window, ignoring the sound of light footsteps until he heard the dragging of a stool and a familiar, high-pitched voice.

“Min Yoongi, it’s really cold outside today.”

He turned his head to see the beaming pumpkin haired boy with pink cheeks and a thick, green scarf wrapped around his neck. He peeled off his winter coat, revealing a dark brown sweater that contrasted with his hair and light skin. Yoongi glanced away, concerned that he may have been staring too long. “You do realize this is a hospital, right? People tend to be alone so they can recover.” He muttered.

“But it doesn’t mean that they enjoy being alone.” Jimin responded, pulling out a thick book. Yoongi could have sworn he felt his heart flutter for just a moment, but forced himself to ignore it. He was wrong, very wrong. Yoongi enjoyed his time alone; he preferred it than having worried visitors that drained his energy. Right?

“Um, what is that?” Yoongi peered down at the book, gesturing it with his eyes while setting his tea down.

“Min Yoongi,” Jimin dropped the book down on his lap.

“Yoongi. Just Yoongi.” He flinched at the sudden heavy weight on his leg. How many pounds was this book?

“I found this in the library today, it’s a textbook of music and lyric writing. You were struggling with lyrics last week so I thought this would give you some inspiration.”

Yoongi didn’t have the heart to say it, but he was actually touched by the kind gesture. Since he could never leave the room to find inspiration, Jimin bought it to him. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “I might give this a read, maybe it’ll…kick me out of writers block or something. Thanks.” He tried to hide the admiration while flipping through the pages, skimming over the different terms he saw. Already, he came up with the next line of his composition.

“Do you have any siblings? Any family members that come to visit? Should I not come during certain times?” There he went again with the questions. That boy never stood a change to give Yoongi’s brain a break.

“I don’t get visitors often, actually. They visit once in a while, but it’s rare. My older brother is studying abroad and my family has jobs that restrict them from coming. I get more phone calls than visits.” He regretted saying some of these words, Yoongi wasn’t one to share about himself easily, but something about Jimin’s presence makes him feel like he doesn’t have to hold back much. “What about you? What brings you to this hospital?”

“Oh,” Jimin twirled the stool around, staring at the ceiling with a smile. “My dad is in Room 602, I visit him every Monday after class to keep him company.”

“He must enjoy that.” Yoongi responded, growing dizzy just from watching Jimin spin.

“I hope so.” Jimin replied.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? He can’t possibly be unentertained with that blabbering mouth of yours.”

“He’s in a coma, for 11 months and 9 days now. But he will wake up soon…I know it. His vitals are getting better each day.” Jimin stopped himself, giggling from the dizziness and used the chair to steady himself. Yoongi only watched with a frown on his face. He couldn’t understand how that boy always had a smile, what kept him so optimistic? Yoongi couldn’t imagine having a family member of his own in a coma, especially for that long. Just the thought of it was too painful.

Jimin dug into his bag and pulled out some more papers and a pencil bag, scooting himself closer to the small desk on Yoongi’s bed.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asked Jimin carefully spread out his papers on the empty side of his desk. “I have homework to do.” He beamed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling the pumpkin colored strands out of his eyes before focusing on the task.

Yoongi’s eyebrows rose as he watched, confused. He didn’t know if he should be annoyed that some kid barged in to do his homework, or comforted by his presence and the fact that he took time out of seeing his father once a week to be in the same room as Yoongi, someone he barely knew.

Realizing that Jimin was actually quiet for once, he turned his eyes away from staring too long, put the black headphones over his ears and continued making his music, occasionally skimming through the book. Every now and then, he would also peek over at Jimin, whose eyebrows furrowed in frustration over the math problems, not noticing that there was a small smile across Yoongi’s face.

------------

With a deep, raspy sigh, Yoongi peered out the window, taking a short break from writing lyrics for a few hours and thought of the snow again. It looked like powdered sugar when he saw it in movies, did it taste sweet? Or was it bitter like the salty ocean? Did it crunch under their shoes or melt into liquid?

A light knock was heard as a nurse walked in with a tray in her arms. “It’s time for another checkup Yoongi, today I need to draw some blood-oh, Jimin! I see you’ve made another friend.” She smiled as Jimin lifted his head and twirled his pencil. “I don’t know how you do it, getting to know everyone in this hall. But I’m sure they appreciate it the company, don’t you Yoongi?”

Yoongi didn’t respond as the nurse set the tray on a small table beside the bed.

“I like Min Yoongi the best though.” Jimin, you literally just met me last week, Yoongi bit his lip and held out his arm toward the nurse. “He’s around my age so I can talk to him more comfortably.” Jimin smiled as the nurse wiped Yoongi’s arm with a small cotton ball.

She picked up a needle, carefully searching for a vein before piercing it through his skin. Jimin didn’t flinch at the sight, as he must have watched the procedure hundreds of times with his father whereas, Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed in pain, looking away. It must have been obvious how uncomfortable needles made him because he felt a warm hand on his free arm and glanced at Jimin.

“Hey, do you like the beach or the forest?”

“What?”

“Just answer it.”

Yoongi thought over it for a few seconds and opened his mouth. “Forest.

“Breakfast or dinner?”

“Dinner.” He replied quickly. “I’m not a morning person.”

Jimin smiled at his comment. “What’s your favorite thing to eat?”

“Lamb skewers.”

A flash of surprise appeared across his face. “You know, there’s a famous restaurant just down the street from here that sells lamb skewers. It’s supposed to be the best in this city! Let’s eat there, you will love it-” The nurse looked up and slightly shook her head toward Jimin, silently telling him he couldn’t leave the hospital that easily. “Or, I’ll just bring it to you!”

“You don’t have to bring me any lamb skewers, I can survive just fine on hospital food.” But Yoongi mentally wished he would do it one day. The thought of eating lamb skewers made his mouth water. He was sick of the bland food they served at the hospital.

“There we go.” The nurse muttered, covering the puncture with a Band-Aid and neatly set the tubes of his blood samples on the tray. “You’re all finished and it looks like your oxygen flow is steady as of now. I will be back later with your medication.” She smiled before quickly exiting his room.

“You’re not a fan of needles are you?” Jimin finally took his hand off of Yoongi’s arm and picked up his pencil. Yoongi realized he distracted him the whole time and forgot the nurse was even drawing his blood. He sighed in relief and silently thanked Jimin.

“No, no I’m not. I don’t like pain.”

“No one does.” Jimin chuckled quietly and continued his homework.

Just a few minutes later, the nurse showed up again with a small bag, hooking it over Yoongi’s bed before attaching an IV needle to his arm. To his rescue, Jimin shared a story of how he almost got kicked out of the dance room the first time he snuck in and had to clean the bathrooms for a week as a punishment. A faint smile appeared across Yoongi’s face as the nurse collected her things and left for good.

While Jimin focused on the last few pages of his assignment, Yoongi’s eyes wavered toward him, watching him erase a mistake on the paper. What about Jimin? Had he seen the snow before? Did he know what it tasted like? Did his hands go numb after having snowball fights for hours without gloves? What was it like to build a snowman with him?

“Min Yoongi,” The soft, high-pitched voice interrupted his thoughts. “Visiting hours are almost over, I still have to see my dad.” Just for a split second, Yoongi felt his heart sink, but he understood. His father was much more important after all.

“Hold onto that book until you finish it. I’ll pick it up when you’re done.” Jimin scrambled his papers into a notebook and shoved it in his bag. He made his way to the window next to Yoongi’s bed and checked to see if it was shut and secure. “Make sure you dress warm, there’s cold air leaking into the room.”

Jimin smiled, wrapping the green scarf around his neck and hung the winter coat over his arm. “I think my father will like you, you’re both really alike. Maybe he’ll have the honor of meeting you when he wakes up.” He gave Yoongi a small wave before skipping out of the room, leaving the door opened a crack behind him.

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile, but it went away as soon as he realized the room was empty again. All he heard was his oxygen machine and pacing steps of nurses rushing down the hallway. Perhaps Jimin was right. He may have been alone a lot, but did he actually like it?

Before Yoongi flipped a page of the book Jimin lent him, he spotted a small object from the corner of his eyes. Sitting at the corner of his bed was a small, delicate paper crane.

This time, the color was white, like snow.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #yoongi x jimin #angst #fluff #bts imagine #yoongi fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #paper cranes #alli fanfic

[maryeemeeh]

Wolves of Manhattan

Originally posted on fanfiction.net

Summary: He is the rich kid from the Upper East Side with a troubled past and a dysfunctional family. She is from Greenwich Village who is pulled into the world of the rich and famous when her parents receive promotions. When their paths cross, a spark is ignited and the tables are turned when they learn they are far more connected than they thought. AU. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

CHAPTER ONE

"Luke, don't do this!"

His eyes snapped open as he clenched his bruised fist and stormed out the room, ignoring his friends' pleas to stop. He stumbled outside and watched one of the guys from their high school football team scurried to his red Ford Mustang as quickly as he was able to. With his adrenaline on high, he ran to his car and jumped inside his white BMW i8 sports car and took off chasing after him.

His mind was racing and anger flooded his veins, threatening to cloud his better judgment and making it difficult to concentrate on what he was seeing. He hadn't felt such rage in a very long time, but he was determined he would pay for this; he would make him pay.

He sped down the half empty streets, getting in and out of the freeway, passing cars left and right and inching closer to the Ford Mustang. Anxiety pooled in the pit of his stomach as he pressed his foot harder against the accelerator to make it go a bit faster.

And then suddenly his instincts kicked in at once as he noticed a dog running in the middle of his lane. He gasped in shock, immediately slamming on the brakes and making a sharp turn, avoiding the dog by a thread as he was hurtling towards the fire hydrant, which burst into a stream of water.

And then there was nothing.

No noise.

No feeling.

Only darkness as his consciousness slowly ebbed away.

He moaned as he slowly woke up and found himself squinting under the harsh lighting. His throat was dry and his eyes were thick with sleep. He recognized the smells and the sounds of an IV machine beeping in his ear. When his eyes fluttered, he realized that he wasn't in his room. Instead, he was in the last place he wanted to be.

The hospital.

"Lucas?" He heard a soft feminine voice beside him, "Can you hear me?"

He slowly turned to look at his female companion and weakly smiled, relieved to see a familiar face. "Hey, Maya." He greeted, half-wincing when he became aware of the migraine and the pain in his chest. "What happened?" His voice came out small as every breath he took hurt like hell.

"Well, you crashed into a fire hydrant and the paramedics found you unconscious."

There was a moment of brief silence as his eyes trained on the ceiling in deep thought, trying to recollect everything that happened. "So he managed to get away…again." He shook his head in disbelief. "That jerk." Maya tried not to frown under the disappointment and anger in his voice. "Are you okay though?" He asked, concern feigning in his soft emerald gaze when he looked back at her.

"Yea," she said with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine."

"He should have not said all those nasty rumors about you." He replied, looking increasingly annoyed. "I promise you, Maya I'll make him pay."

She sighed, brushing her long blonde hair out of her eyes. "Okay, Huckleberry. This needs to stop. You can't fight our battles all the time and have these angry outbursts. It doesn't do you or any of us any good." Lucas averted from her gaze with a slight roll to his eyes. He heard it all before. He's heard it several times for the past year or two and stopped listening at some point. "You could have hurt someone and gotten yourself killed tonight."

"She's right, yah know." Came another worried voice that he recognized to be his best friend's. "You were lucky. No broken bones. Just a few minor cuts and bruises."

Lucas smiled up at him by the time he reached his bedside. "Hey, Zay."

"Hey, man." Zay managed a smile as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

Lucas shrugged and let out a light groan, feeling the pain radiate from his back and down to his legs. "I've been better, bro."

"Well you might feel even worse." Lucas turned to another male voice in the room as he appeared next to Maya.

"Why is that, Farkle?"

"Your mom is on her way."

A heavy sigh escaped from his lips as Lucas closed his eyes, wishing he could just disappear altogether. "Great."

A few days later…

Lucas toyed anxiously with a stray thread of his uniform khaki slacks while he waited outside the Dean's office. After being summoned out of his last class for the day, he had spent ten minutes waiting in the reception with only the constant clacking of computer keys and the ticking of the wall clock to keep him company.

The door opened with a creak, causing Lucas' head to snap up. He furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment, expecting to be approach by a plump, short middle-aged man with balding grey hair and oversized glasses. But instead he looked up to see someone he never seen before; a slender man who appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties with short, curly dark brown hair wearing a dark blue plaid shirt underneath a dark grey suit jacket and black pants.

"Ahh, Mr. Friar. Sorry to keep you waiting." He greeted him warmly. "My name is Cory Matthews and I am the new Dean."

Lucas nodded and took the hand offered, shaking it kindly with a greeting. "Hello, Sir."

"Please come inside."

Mr. Matthews led him inside the office, which was in the middle of being refurbished. The walls were empty of portraits, certificates and personal items. The only thing present in the room was a computer and laptop that sits on the mahogany desk with three swivel chairs. By the time he closed the door, Lucas noticed his mother sitting on one of them.

"Mom?"

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a small smile. "Come sit down, sweetheart." She said, gesturing to the empty seat beside her. Lucas reluctantly sat down, his eyes curiously following the Dean as he makes his way over to the desk to sit across from them.

"So what are you doing here, Mom?" He asked, annoyance creeping on the forefront of his tone. "Don't you have a debutante ball to organize or a gala to attend to or something?"

"Don't be rude, Lucas. Mr. Matthews called me over here to discuss your punishment after the stunt you pulled last weekend." She said calmly, earning himself a glare from his mother.

"You know, Mr. Friar I've been going through your files and I'm quite impressed." He said, taking Lucas completely off guard. "You're a 3.5 student athlete, who hasn't missed or was ever late to class. And yet, a good kid like yourself has a history of getting into fights." Mr. Matthews paused, shaking his head. "You're sixteen, Lucas. You have your whole life ahead of you and you're out there getting in trouble. Can't say I'm not disappointed."

Lucas regarded him carefully with an intense stare. "So what is it going to be, sir? Are you going to suspend me?" He challenged. "Expel me? Send me to juvie?"

"Is that what you want, Mr. Friar?"

Lucas shook his head sharply, and for the first time in a long time, he felt vulnerable. Not because he was in trouble, but because he saw something in Mr. Matthews' eyes he never seen before. Instead of the usual look of disappointment and shame Lucas seem to earn from staff that held administrative positions, he saw hope and unwavering faith in his. "No," he finally answered after a long minute of silence.

Mr. Matthews studied him carefully as he leaned back against the chair, absently twirling a pen between his fingers. "I don't know how your previous Dean do things around here, son but I'm taking a rather different approach. Luckily for you the city hasn't press any charges, and I happen to know the chief of police who has agreed to the terms I will present to you for your punishment."

"Alright." Lucas drew in a nervous breath. "Let's hear it."

"Your driver's licensed has been suspended for a year."

"What?!"

"Which means your driving privileges has been temporarily withdrawn until the duration of your suspension is over. If you violate the law and rules of driving again, your license will be revoked." Lucas grumbled something incoherent as Mr. Matthews continued on. "You are banned from participating in any team sports for the rest of the school year, and instead you will be an assistant coach to a local little league baseball team after school."

"Anything else?" Lucas asked. He couldn't decide whether he should be happy or not. He's not getting suspended or going to jail but he has to watch over little kids, let alone teach them how to play.

"Yes, as part of your community service, you will be working four hours a day during the weekends at Topanga's."

Lucas groaned despondently, burying his face in his hands and resting them on his knees. "It's better than jail, sweetie." He heard his mother say as he looked at her and quietly nodded.

"When do I start, sir?"

He had been dreading this moment since he stepped out of the Dean's office yesterday. And so when the day finally arrived, Lucas couldn't believe he was enjoying his time as an assistant coach. Never mind the cold in mid-April or the fact that he was coaching boys who were barely four feet tall. He loved baseball, and there was something about teaching the fundamentals of the sport to the next generation of athletes that he found comforting and rewarding.

He spent the majority of the afternoon shadowing the head coach, observing and taking a mental note of the daily routine that goes on in every practice. At one point, Lucas volunteered to demonstrate the proper way to hold a baseball bat and pitch a baseball using different grips, earning praises and approval from the kids as well as the head couch.

"So do you play a lot?" The head coach asked, joining Lucas on the first row of the bleachers as soon as he had the kids pair up for a round of throw and catch.

"Yea, I'm on the high school baseball team over at Thomas Jefferson Prep." Lucas smiled, but then frowned slightly and looked down. "Well…I was anyway. What about you, Coach?"

"Please, call me Josh. And yes, I play for NYU."

"Nice."

"Last guy I had knew nothing about baseball. Thank God my brother sent you."

"Brother?"

He nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he began leaving his place on the bottom bleachers to return to his kids. "Yep. I believe you know him as Mr. Cory Matthews."

Lucas raised a brow with a thoughtful look on his face. "Huh. You don't say..."

The whistle blew as all the kids surrounded Josh, most of them relieved to have practice come to an end. He talked for a minute when Lucas noticed a crowd of parents waiting behind the fence to pick up their child. "Good practice, boys. I'll see you all here same time tomorrow." He said as the team started to head out. Lucas was about to grab his things from the dugout when he felt someone tug at his blue long-sleeve shirt. He turned around and lowered his gaze at the curly, brown haired boy staring up at him.

"Thanks for the tip, Coach. I had fun."

Lucas smiled. "Anytime."

"Come on, Auggie. Let's go!"

"I'm coming!" The boy exclaimed as Lucas followed the sound of a feminine voice yelling for him. And sure enough, he saw a pretty brunette looking in their direction, waiting from outside the fence. Their eyes met briefly from a distance and he smiled, the smallest smile he could muster, just enough to make sure that she knew he noticed her.

Tumblr: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Fanfiction: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 

#Rucas #rucas fandom #rucas fanfic #rucas fanfiction #riley matthews #lucas friar #riley x lucas #lucas x riley #GMW #gmw fanfiction #gmw fandom #girl meets world #girl meets world fandom

[mama-m1na]

The Journey of a Witch: Chapter 4

                                                   ~~~IV~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sense of unease came over the girls at the ominous message left by the card.

“Let’s just calm down,” Rhamina suggested putting away the tarot deck, “Magic is swayed by emotions so let’s just enjoy ourselves while still being careful.”

“Hell yeah!” Kerstin exclaimed from one of the trees, “Guess who got booze!”

“Kerstin, where did you get that?” Hannah asked as the brunette came back with four bottles of alcohol.

“What kind?” Rhamina asked as Kerstin joined the circle of sitting girls.

“Um, here this one’s whiskey,” Kerstin replied handing the ravenette one of the glass bottles.

“Mina, not you too,” Sophie groaned as the ravenette took a swig of the sweet tasting alcohol.

“Hey, there is no age restriction on drinking for magic users since we use it in rituals all the time,” Rhamina countered as a slight burn followed the liquid, “It’s not illegal.”

“Fuck yeah!” Sam screamed while taking one of the bottles.

“Hey, you can drink but you still need to be in a somewhat sober state of mind for the rituals so you better not end up shit faced,” Rhamina barked taking another sip of the whiskey.

“Speak for yourself,” Tijarah scoffed.

“Hey, I know my limits,” sassed the ravenette as Chloe was tugging at her sleeve.

“Hoo?” Chloe hooted while looking at the bottle.

“No,” Rhamina flatly stated without even looking down at the younger female.

“But- but, Mina!” Chloe whined.

“No, knowing you, you’d drink way more than your tiny body can handle,” Rhamina replied causing Chloe to pout.

The girls continued their celebrations until the moon was high and it was about three in the morning.

“Alright,” Rhamina announced standing up, “It’s time to close the way. The Festival is over.”

As the girls made their way to the center of the oasis Rhamina turned to Mr. Conrad and gave him another hug.

“It was good to see you again, Mr. Conrad,” Rhamina said with a smile, “If you manage to see Asra tell him that I miss him.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be able to tell him yourself,” the man chuckled, “He’s closer than you think, Rhamina.”

The female waved to the male as she walked into the center of the circle once again.

As the girls Closed the Way the spirits once again vanished from the human eye, returning into their plane in between their own realm and the realm of physical being.

“This was such a fun night,” Aurora said hugging Chloe.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to come back and do this again next year,” Kerstin said as the girls began to walk back to the gate.

However, Rhamina stood still on the stone platform staring on the moon.

During this, Snow raised his head to the girl’s face from her neck.

Rhamina then let him wrap around her hand as she brought him to her face.

As she looked into his unnatural purple eyes a wave of nostalgia ran through her as she spoke, “I promise to keep you safe and protected.”

She then laid a kiss on his snout; however, she never expected a surge of magic to come from him as he was engulfed in a glow.

The other girls turned around upon hearing the ravenette’s yelp of surprise but were too shocked at the scene to do anything.

With her eyes closed at the blinding light, Rhamina could feel warm wrap themselves around her form as she was pressed against a warm and welcoming form.

When the light died down the ravenette pulled away and opened her eyes to find herself staring into a pair of shining violet irises.

Her own eyes widened as she scanned his form, the thin material covering his body leaving a glowing mark on his chest exposed as she spotted the same one on her left, middle finger.

No words left her mouth as she immediately wrapped her arms around the male’s neck burying her face into his neck.

“You’ve grown so much, Mina,” he spoke as she felt warmth surround her form.

Suddenly doubt shot through her as she thought, ‘No, this isn’t real. He’s dead. Asra’s dead because of me… This isn’t him.’

The male was left confused as the female pulled away from him, looking down, anywhere but him.

“No, you can’t be him,” the girl whispered as the temperature dropped, “It’s impossible.”

“Mina, I’m right he-” “No, you’re not!” the ravenette snapped, her voice cracking as tears began to stream down her face.

When she looked up her pupils were shrunken, her eyes were glassy and face paint smudged due to the liquid streaming from her eyes as her bottom lip quivered.

“Asra’s dead!” she continued backing away from the form in front of her, “I’m still delusional! I’m crazy! You aren’t real!”

As black ice began to form at her fingertips, toes, and tips of her hair the seven girls rushed over only to witness a puff of smoke surround their friend leaving a fluffy fox with a mostly blue coat covered in various markings.

Before they could even reach the platform, the fox bounded across the surface of the water and over the walls of the oasis as the male called out for her, leaving the girls with the mysterious male.

“Hey, doesn’t he look familiar?” Kerstin whispered as the man turned towards them, lips turned downward and violet eyes slightly clouded.

“Yeah, isn’t that the guy Mina was friends wi-” “You!” Aurora hissed cutting off Sam, “I knew the first time I saw your scaly face that you were trouble!”

“Aurora, you know who that is?” Sophie asked holding the blonde back.

“That’s Ramen’s fucking snake!” she hissed trying to get out of the older one’s grip, “I knew snakes were evil!”

“Aurora-” “No, she’s right,” the male stated, “but my name isn’t Snow, it’s Asra.”

“...You mean, Asra, like, the Asra that was Mina’s friend, that died because of an act of terrorism?” Kerstin asked with narrowed eyes but and open mind because if there’s one thing she learned in the past few weeks it’s that magic does whatever the fuck it wants.

“Yes,” the male answered as all the girls stared at each other in pure worry and shock.

“Fuck! We need to find Mina now!” Tijarah screamed.

“She’s probably having a fucking panic attack right now,” Sophie said as the girls rushed to the gate.

“Well, are you coming?” Sam asked as she turned to look back at the male, “You’re her friend right? You better be helping look for her.”

“Yeah, she may have put a lot of trust in you before but we don’t know you,” Kerstin added, “and anyone who hurts our sister…”

“Answers to us,” the girl’s answered in unison as their auras flared with intensity.

Kerstin’s aura was red and frantic as she seemed to stare into the male’s soul.

Sam’s aura vibrant yet calm with an underlying wrath as she looked through him.

The male said nothing and could only look away knowing he deserved the reactions elicited.

“I’m glad there was someone to care for her in my absence,” Asra spoke not looking the shorter females in the eyes, “Know I didn’t want to leave her like that, nor did I think she would treat my reappearance like she did.”

“No shit she did, she blames four years ago on herself,” Tijarah commented, “Now let’s find her before she hurts herself.”

The group split up into pairs to search for the fox.

Kerstin was with Sam, Hannah was with Sophie, Aurora was with Chloe, and Tijarah went with Asra.

They spread out all over the city to search for her but mostly came up with nothing.

Once the sun came up the groups decided to walk back to the shop but as Tijarah and Asra were heading back she noticed the male was quite distracted.

He kept looking down at his hands and at himself in general.

“So I’m guessing you’ve been a snake for the past four years?” Tijarah asked when he stopped to look at his reflection in the fountain.

“Yes, I never thought I would be in this form again,” Asra replied as they continued on the quiet streets, the people probably getting rest from the Festivals activities.

“Why were you a snake by the way?” Tijarah asked undoing the lock on the shop.

“It was the only way I could escape them,” the male said running his hand through his fluffy white locks, “To be honest all I remember from four years ago was Mina running away then it just cuts to me being a snake.”

“That sucks, Bro,” Tijarah replied as they met up with the rest in the dining room.

Upon seeing that the tired looks of the girls and still no ravenette Tijarah asked, “So, nothing for you guys either?”

“No,” sighed Sophie, “She should be fine for a few more hours right?”

“Yeah, she’s probably out cold to be honest,” Kerstin replied, “She was always one of the first to sleep whenever we had a sleepover.”

“We’ll start looking for her again after we get some sleep,” Hannah yawned, “I’m going to wash my face.”

As most of the girls left, Aurora being dragged off by Chloe, Sam lagged behind and asked, “Do you need some clothes?”

“No, she left some of mine in the closet in her room,” Asra replied, “I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t be sorry, just help us find her,” Sam replied unknowingly sounding quite harsh as she walked off to the guest room to change knowing the probably long line for a shower.

The male sighed as he walked down the familiar halls of what used to be his home.

It really hadn’t changed much thanks to the ravenette taking such good care of it when she was there and he was thankful for that.

More than anything as he thought of what he had experienced with the girl for the past month he was proud of her.

He had learned she had her own shop independently from her direct family; which, he was ecstatic about, he never took a liking to them.

The way she taught the other girls so efficiently and quickly, showed that she had an understanding and respect for multiple ways of practicing magic.

He knew the few small threats from the Antidote unnerved her slightly; however, she handled it maturely (for the most part) and didn’t cause everyone to panic. It was a good quality found in many leaders and which many people didn’t have.

Asra entered the master bedroom before walking into the bathroom.

The male drew a bath before he pulled out his old clothes from the closet and set it on the bathroom counter as he waited for the water to heat up.

Once ready he stripped off his clothes and sunk into the steaming water.

As the male drifted off to sleep he felt a cool presence engulf him.

He felt strange as he saw an image but felt he could do nothing.

The sobs of a familiar voice echoed in his ears as he saw feminine hands reach up to his face to wipe away tears he didn’t feel.

‘What is this?’ Asra thought before looking closely at the left hand to see the same symbol that appeared on his chest, ‘Am I looking through, Mina’s eyes right now?’

His question was answered as she crawled to the edge of what seemed to be a pond filled with large lily pads and looked down to see Rhamina’s face.

Her makeup was smeared and hair mostly ruffled.

She reached her hands into the water which distorted her reflection before bringing it to her face to scrub off the paint and remaining makeup.

She then looked to the middle of the pond to see a lily pad with a large lotus growing in the middle.

She let out a cry of agony as she brought her head to the ground before closing her eyes.

The male woke up with a start as he recalled the things he saw in the dream.

“That lotus is in the cave,” he gasped rushing to put on a white shirt he didn’t button up all the way, the coat he used for traveling, and put on a magenta sash before grabbing his maroon scarf.

The girls were woken by Asra slamming open the master bedroom door and Kerstin walked into the hallway to ask, “What’s the rush?”

Kerstin immediately came to her senses when Asra said, “I know where she is.”

“Put on bras mother fuckers he knows where Mina is!” Kerstin exclaimed rushing back into the guest room and slamming the door behind her.

A loud stream of curses was heard from the otherside of the door as Asra waited for the girls to come out of the room.

Eventually they came out of the room wearing what they wore to their nap and followed the male as he walked into town which was mostly awake now in the afternoon.

Whispers floated around them as the townspeople laid eyes on the supposedly dead magician.

The group stopped at a camel farmer and Asra tapped his shoulder.

“Hello, how can I- Great Magician Asra!” the man gasped, “How are you-?”

“I’m sorry but I can’t answer those questions right now, I ask that you let me borrow some of your camels,” the tanned male pleaded.

“Of course,” the man said giving him the reigns to four of the desert mammals.

They once again rode in pairs, well except for Chloe and Aurora who rode with Hannah as Asra rode on his own in front.

“So where is she anyway and how did you know?” Hannah asked as they headed out into the desert.

“We were connected through a dream,” he answered.

“Did she tell you where she was?”

He shook his head before replying, “No, it was as if I was looking through her eyes, I had to look at her surroundings and luckily it was a place I was familiar with.”

“It’s a place filled with magic and there are hundreds of ways to get lost in it so I suggest you wait at the mouth of it,” Asra continued as a large rock came into view.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Sophie said, “Plus I’m pretty sure you two need to talk some things out.”

“U-um, I has a question!” Chloe called.

“What is it?”

“If you were the snake, how are you a person now?”

Asra turned his head slightly and said, “A familiar can take on the form of a human if they please.”

“Bitch, what?!” Aurora fumed, “You’re her familiar now?!”

“Yes, we both made the mutual promise and a witch’s words are as binding as any contract,” the male smirked his eyes glowing for a moment as he turned his head forward.

Hannah and Chloe had to try their hardest to both restrain Aurora and keep the camel from panicking as Aurora attempted to launch herself at the chuckling male.

Kerstin and Sam looked at each other knowingly as Kerstin whispered, “He’s going to be flirting with Mina isn’t he?”

“When he does I doubt she’ll know it’s flirting,” Sam whispered back.

“Are we going to try and set them up?”

“If he’s able to get Mina out of the cave and act happy like.”

Both girls giggled at their plan causing the others to raise a brow at their behavior except for Tijarah who shot them a knowing deadpan.

‘God dammit,’ she thought, ‘He seems like her type though… If he hurts her I will eat him whole.’

When they got closer to the rock it towered above them as they stopped in the shady side where the mouth of a cave existed.

“I’ll be back,” the man said as he got off the camel and began his walk into the darkened cave.

“Good luck!” Sophie called as the other girls already started to mess around.

He walked the many pathways with confidence. Following the way he had memorised a long time ago.

When he came into the larger cave with the pond he found the teenager dead asleep in the ground in front of the pond.

She lay on her side, curled up with her raven locked splayed out behind her.

The bottoms of her feet were still quite dirty from being barefoot for over twenty four hours but she still looked peaceful.

Asra then frowned as he quietly approached her with his aura slowly flowing into their surroundings before he kneeled near her.

The girl turned around groggily and inched herself onto the male’s lap before hugging around his waist.

“I’m sorry, Asra,” she whispered into the material of his clothes.

“Mina, there’s nothing to apologize for,” the male said stroking her hair as he felt his clothes begin to dampen from her tears, “you were scared, plus I’m the one that told you to run.”

“No,” she said a bit louder, “that’s not the only thing I’m apologizing for… I’ve done so many terrible things, Asra, I broke so many promises.”

“It’s only human, Mina, the important thing is you’re learning.”

“...”

“You did mean that promise you made to me last night, right?”

“...”

“I wouldn’t be able to take this form if you didn’t.”

“Why wasn’t it me?” the ravenette asked causing the male’s eyes to widen, “I asked Tyche for months why it wasn’t me… The coward who did nothing.”

“I prayed to Oizys for guidance through my misery and if I should have ended it myself,” Rhamina continued tightening her grip on the male and wrapping herself around him as if he would fade away if she let go.

“Mina!” he called bringing her to face him.

He had a grip on her shoulders as he looked up at her glassy, brown, gold speckled, irises.

“I’m here now and I’m never leaving you like this!” he exclaimed tears running down his own face, “I made the same promise you did so please don’t say things like that ever again.”

He then buried his face into the crook of her neck as she did the same.

‘Definitely him,’ Rhamina thought taking in his scent of smokey tea, saffron, and cinnamon.

They stayed this way for a significant amount of time until the rumbling of Rhamina’s stomach interrupted them.

They pulled away and Rhamina stretched before standing up.

“It’s time to go home, I guess,” she said cracking her neck, “I hungers.”

As the pair exited the cave they were greeted with Kerstin on top of Tijarah screaming, “That’s a lie, Hoe, put your finger down!”

“What the fuck did I walk out to?” Rhamina chuckled calling the attention of the seven girls.

At the sound of the ravenette’s voice they stumbled to stand up and run towards the pair which was a pain to do in sand.

“Mina!” many called as five of the girls jumped onto the sixteen-year-old.

“Mother fuckers!” she coughed from the ground, struggling to get them off, “Fuck off I want to go home and get some fucking food!”

The whole way back Rhamina acted as if nothing was wrong until she felt the stares of the two youngest.

“Yes?” she asked turning to them.

“Ramen, you should turn back into a fox,” Aurora said still staring at the ravenette.

“...Why?” she replied narrowing her eyes in confusion.

“You’re fluffy,” Aurora said her eyes in a complete mesmerised state.

“Mina!” Chloe added, “I wanna pet!”

“No,” Rhamina said back but the two hunched forward.

“Children no! Fuck you!” she hissed leaning into Asra to try and avoid their hands.

When they got too close a puff of smoke surrounded the ravenette leaving the familiar blue fox.

She forced her way under the arms of Asra who held the reigns of the camel and onto his lap where she hissed and batted at the hands of Chloe and Aurora.

“Holy shit she’s so fluffy!” Tijarah squealed.

“Aw, Mina, you’re so cute!” Sam added eliciting angry fox noises from the female as she looked over Asra’s shoulder only curling up when she felt the vibrations from his deep chuckles.

Of course there were a few grumbles as her tail hung over the side of his leg and she hid from the sun in his shadow.  

When they arrived back at the shop Rhamina immediately raced up the stairs and hopped into the shower after locking the bathroom door behind her.

“Wait a fucking second,” Aurora said as they walked up the stairs, “...If you were the fucking snake and she took you into the bathroom with her in the morning then…”

This caught the attention of all the girls earning the glares from five of the seven; while, Asra’s face turned red.

“Boy, you better run!” Sophie said as the five began to run at him.

“Hey guys calm down, I’m sure he looked away right?” Hannah said getting in between the male and five raging females

“Of course I did,” Asra replied calming a majority of the females, the red hue on his face never leaving.

“I don’t trust that!” Aurora snapped, “He’s a snake!”

“Aurora calm the fuck down, he’s Mina’s familiar anyway, do you think she’ll let us kill him?” Sam asked easily picking up the fourteen-year-old.

“Imma eat him!” she screamed trying to escape the hold, “God dammit! Why are all of you stronger than me?!”

“Speaking of eat, should we just go out for tonight?” Sophie asked as Aurora finally calmed down.

“Yes, yes we should,” Rhamina said coming out of the master bedroom with a tank top and shorts, holding a blanket and pillow.

“Mina, why do you have that?” the male questioned as she set it on the couch.

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” she stated bluntly, “I was only using the master bedroom because you weren’t here and now you are so, yeah.”

“Mina, this shop is yours now, you don’t have to-” “Nope, I’m taking the couch,” Rhamina said cutting off the male.

“But, Mina, you’re always saying how you want a cuddle buddy, why don’t you just-” “Chloe!” Aurora snapped cutting off her girlfriend as Rhamina stood stiff with wide eyes.

“Chloe, you don’t have to expose how lonely I am, okay?” Rhamina sang as she darted down the stairs with her purse.

“Mina! I’m sorry!” Chloe called as she ran down afterwards with Aurora trying to scold her for even suggesting things.

When the group went out for dinner they were surrounded by even more people and more talking.

As this went on Rhamina’s facial expressions dropped and she began to talk less and less. She could feel her aura start to flare and whip around especially when others would come up and talk to the newly returned magician.

‘Hey, can we not do this tonight?’ Rhamina thought to herself as she took a sip of her tea, ‘I’m not his only friend you know, he has a right to talk to people I don’t know.’

‘What if he ignores you after tonight though?’ a voice in her mind replied back.

‘Bitch, he’s my familiar now, it would kind of be hard to ignore me.’

‘We both know your pussy ass wouldn’t order him to do shit.’

‘...Shut the fuck up, you’re just a disembodied voice in my head.’

‘You’re still talking to me though.’

‘Suck my ass.’

‘No, you.’

“I’m going to use the restroom real quick,” the ravenette stated as she stood from her seat as four girls began talking to Asra.

‘Jesus fuck, they are so annoying!’ She thought as she locked the door behind her, ‘Let him breathe dammit! He just got that form back and somehow isn’t dead!... wait how did he even survive?’

‘Did others survive too? Did-’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’

‘You shut the fuck up! This is my mind, Hoe!’

At the absence of a response Rhamina smirked as she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down before her ears started to ring.

At the table Kerstin elbowed Sam once Rhamina was out of sight and mouthed, “She was fucking jealous.”

“I know,” Sam mouthed back, “But I’m kind of getting pissed off at those, Hoes.”

“Yeah, they’re just trying to get in his pants, I mean look,” Kerstin replied gesturing at the way some of them crossed their arms to make their chests look bigger or how one was leaning on the table to make her skirt hike up.

As the girls let out obnoxious giggles Sam turned to them and asked, “Can you, like leave us alone now? We’re tired as fuck and just want to eat a meal.”

The girls glared but left, not before sending flirty smirks at the male who gave a calm smile.

When Rhamina returned she sat down and said, “Sorry for taking a while, got a sudden headache.”

“Are you feeling alright now?” Asra asked putting the back of his hand on her forehead, “Do need to head back now?”

“I’m fine now plus I’m still eating,” Rhamina smiled before placing a kiss on the man’s knuckles, “Thanks though.”

As Asra smiled down at the female Hannah and Sophie looked at each other in confusion, Chloe looked at Aurora in horror, Aurora stared at the male with wide eyes and contracted pupils, Sam and Kerstin squealed in excitement; all this happening while Tijarah was scarfing down her chicken.

When the group got home there was an immediate problem.

“Asra, I’m sleeping on the couch!” Rhamina exclaimed to the male that was currently blocking the way to the door.

She had just finished changing and come out of the bathroom when the subject came back up.

Currently she was standing by the bathroom with Asra leaning on the closed room door.

His eyes showed no emotion as he wordlessly walked over to grab the ravenette’s wrist.

“Asra,” she called as he started to drag her over to the bed, “Asra, seriously I told you- you aren’t even listening to me are you?!”

As the male kept ignoring the female’s protests he sat her on the left side of the bed and before she could stand up he laid his head on her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist like he had done earlier that day.

“Is it really that bad to stay here with me?” He asked causing Rhamina to look down into the violet pools of emotion before her, “You can leave if you want, I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“God dammit, Asra,” she sighed as she began to run her fingers through his hair, “It’s not that, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He raised a brow as a smug look crossed his face.

“Shut the fuck up, Asra,” she hissed before reaching to snuff out the candle by their bed and she laid down.

“Are you just going to stay like that?” she asked turning onto her right side so that the male could snuggle into her stomach.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he replied looking up.

“I should be saying that you, you fucking noodle,” Rhamina chuckled putting her right hand over his shoulder.

After about ten minutes of silence Rhamina heard a rustle but brushed it off thinking it to be Asra shifting.

Flash!

“You fuckers! I wasn’t even fully asleep yet!”

Kerstin and Sam cackled as they ran out of the room leaving Rhamina to scream out cusses only for the male to keep her in her spot on the bed.

Thirty minutes later everyone had finally gone to bed and Rhamina had finally calmed down.

Her eyes twitched as a looming feeling washed over her.

It was actually silent for once.

The only sounds in the house were the slight breeze from a window cracked open.

Under her closed eyelids she saw flashing images of the horrified face of a familiar child, the sigil from the man’s hand, a plague doctor mask, and the symbol of the Antidote.

“Selene!” She cried bolting straight up from her sleep and staring out the window at the new moon.

                                    ~~~Fin. Chapter 4~~~

#The Journey of a Witch #Rhamina Miyu #Kerstin #Sam #Tijarah #Sophie #Hannah #Chloe #Aurora #The Arcana #The Arcana Game #Persona 5 #Akira Kurusu #Chapter 4

[mayphoenixfanfictions]

Quiet Voice — Chapter IV

Universe: Haikyuu!!

Title: Quiet Voice

Chapter: Chapter 4

Author: mayphenix

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, OCs, Oikawa Tooru, Hanamaki Takahiro, Matsukawa Issei, Aoba Jousai

Pairing(s): Iwaizumi Hajime x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family

Overall Rating: K

Summary : Shy, socially-awkward Akiyama Kiku never was noticed by anyone. She didn’t speak up and the gods forbid ever making eye-contact with anyone. So, she couldn’t understand why Oikawa Tooru suddenly decided that she was the perfect match for his best friend. Iwaizumi Hajime would never admit outloud how grateful he really was to his friend.

Chapter warnings/triggers: /

(This fanfic can also be found on fanfiction.net here ; I am the same author)

Table of Contents

Chapter I  — Chapter II  — Chapter III — Chapter IV

FANFICTION

HAIKYUU!! : QUIET VOICE

CHAPTER IV : Witchcraft?

“Someone has said that it requires less mental effort to condemn than to think.”

― Emma Goldman

“There's a big difference on being wise and being crafty. The former is the attribute of God, and the latter is that of Satan.”

― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Cats are cute. Cats are adorable.” Iwaizumi suddenly said out of nowhere.

The three other third-years glanced at him with wide eyes. The only sound that was heard was the slurping sound from Matsukawa as he swallowed the noodles through his lips all the while staring, a little dumbfounded, at the Ace.

“Yes?” Oikawa answered hesitantly, not quite understanding where this was going.

“But there's nothing wrong in thinking that? Like… it doesn't mean that because you think a cat is cute you're emotionally attached to it or anything?”

“No?”

“What the hell? Do you want to adopt a cat or something?” Hanamaki asked.

“But you don't want to be seen as a cute little guy who loves cats, you still want to keep your tough looks, that's it?” Matsukawa continued.

“Uuh… I don't want to adopt a cat.”

“But you want a pet.”

“No?”

“What the hell?” Hanamaki said once again with a confused look – it gave a good summary of the conversation.

“Iwa-chan, are you all right? You've been off during all day and practice…” Oikawa said, staring worriedly at his friend.

“Do you have a fever?” Matsukawa asked.

“You were missing your usual setter, is that it?” Hanamaki added.

“No I don't have a fever, and no I didn't miss Oikawa!” He growled annoyingly, scooping some noodles with his chopsticks, “And yes I'm all right. I was just thinking about stuff.”

“Don't think too much without a brain or you'll get an actual fever, Iwa-chan. ATCHA! It HURT Iwa-chan!!” Oikawa exclaimed after being elbowed harshly.

“That's for insulting me, Assikawa!” He hissed back.

Once they had finished their ramen, they all went their separate ways to go home.

“Do you feel ready for the practice match against Karasuno?” Oikawa asked.

“Of course I do. Kageyama or not, we'll win.” Iwaizumi answered grumpily.

“By the way, the doctor said that by next Tuesday, I might be able to use my leg! So maybe I'll get to play after all – sorry, Iwa-chan, you might not get to be the Captain!”

“I don't care about that. But don't push on your leg if you do play, got it?”

“Aye, aye~”

“Did you tell Kanemoto about what happened?” Iwaizumi continued, referring to the almost sponsor of Oikawa.

At this question, Oikawa's smile faded and his shoulders dropped. He glanced away, a distressed and slightly pitiful expression on his face…

“Yes… She scolded me… Even over the phone, thousands of miles away, she can be scary…” Oikawa murmured.

“Of course she scolded you. At least, you have one person able to whip you in shape.”

“I always get scolded! By you, by Aya-chan! You're all just cruel!”

“Perhaps you just deserve it?”

“Mean!”

Iwaizumi smiled lightly to himself, amused by his friend's reactions no matter how many years went by. Oikawa never seemed to understand that he was being teased.

“By the way, Iwa-chan, your weird question from earlier, about cats…”

Iwaizumi stiffened lightly, hoping that keeping his hands hidden in his pockets would help him go unnoticed.

Tooru watched him very carefully and even if he noticed the way his shoulders stiffened lightly, he didn't comment on it. He just smiled knowingly before continuing:

“Is this because I remind you of a cute kitty~?” Oikawa asked.

“UH.” Was Hajime's only answer with a massive rolling of eyes.

“Oi! What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You're far from being as cute as a cat!”

They've arrived in the building where they both lived and after saying goodbye, they both went their separate ways. Being neighbor with Oikawa meant spending much more time with him but also being closer than anyone else. Thinking back on Hanamaki and Akiyama being neighbors, Hajime wondered how they could be neighbors without knowing each other more than just acquaintances.

His phone vibrated suddenly and he checked it, an avalanche of pictures sent to him by Oikawa. Pictures of cats and kittens. Hajime rolled his eyes, waiting for all the pictures to be sent but his friend was apparently having a lot of fun – especially when he added some selfies in the middle (but that wasn't surprising).

Am I not as cute as these kittens~ Here, have some more cute cats! Oikawa sent, more cats' pictures arriving.

“What the hell am I even supposed to do with all that, dumbass? I don't want a cat…” Hajime muttered to himself, still mildly amused by the pictures of cats and his friend's antics.

Suddenly, a picture that was not of a cat or Oikawa arrived. Iwaizumi almost screamed and jumped, his phone almost dropping until he caught it at the last moment. He almost had a heart attack when he had received a picture of Akiyama Kiku – how the hell Oikawa even had a picture of this girl on his phone?!

What the hell, Trashykawa?! Iwaizumi typed quickly.

Ah~ Iwa-chan, you finally react! I knew you'd like this picture in particular~

No I don't! How did you get it anyway?! Have you never heard of the word privacy?!

I just asked a friend of mine to take a picture of Kiku-chan for me a few days ago~ You know I have lots of pictures from lots of people~

That's just down right creepy!!

But aren't you glad you have this picture now?

No I'm not!!

Deciding to ignore his friend to give him a lesson, Hajime threw his phone on his bed and ignored it vibrating for long minutes afterward. Then, it stopped – Tooru must have gotten bored by this game. For some reason, Oikawa had taken a liking in Kiku – or rather, he had taken a liking in teasing Iwaizumi about her.

For a short moment, he wondered what Tooru had in his mind before shaking his head, not wanting to think about Trashykawa or his classmate. Even if Hajime had thought that Kiku was adorable for a short moment, that was it. It was true that he had been observing her ever since he had noticed her – by hitting her with his bag – but noting a few things about people wasn't a bad thing. It just meant he was observant. He could note lots of things about his friends and his other classmates, it didn't matter. It wasn't like he was particularly curious about Akiyama Kiku or anything. She was a mystery in several ways – she was always alone and no one seemed to be willing to put up with her, he didn't know a thing about her and no one else seemed to know but Hajime could tell there was more to her than just the shy and socially awkward girl everyone avoided. She had some passion – for her club or wherever she was going after class – and if she had looked at him with the demon-eyes it meant she had more strength than what people gave her credit for.

“Oi… idiot, stop thinking about her…” He muttered, trying to think about something else.

He kept repeating to himself 'stop thinking about her' until he felt comfortable again – but his thoughts were then invaded by Trashykawa's injury. Hajime couldn't tell which was worse.

On Thursday, lunch time…

Hanamaki and Oikawa were arguing about where they'd go have lunch with Matsukawa and Iwaizumi, the last two just watching them in slight annoyance.

“But it's so sunny outside! I want to eat under a tree today!” Oikawa exclaimed.

“Why not eat on the roof as we usually do? There's wind up there!” Hanamaki replied, crossing his arms.

“Iwa-chan! Mattsun! Where do you want to eat today?!” Oikawa continued, whipping towards them.

“Don't care…” Matsukawa answered with a shrug, “I'm hungry…”

“Uuh… don't care either… but outside would be a nice change – plus it'll be faster to get there than the roof…” Iwaizumi shrugged.

“Then I choose outside.” Matsukawa remarked at the simple fact that he'd eat faster this way.

At once, an overly smiling and happy Oikawa turned towards Hanamaki, giving him the sparkly eyes.

“Tch… Thanks for the betrayal guys…” Hanamaki mumbled before grabbing his bento, “Let's go outside then…” He sighed.

“Yoohoo!!” Oikawa exclaimed, jumping up and down.

“Easy on your knee, dumbass!” Iwaizumi cried out at once.

They went outside with their bentos, chatting about everything and anything when Oikawa suddenly stopped.

“Ah, isn't it Kiku-chan over there?” He asked, pointing at a wooden table.

No one was surprised to see her eating alone, headphones in her ears.

“She's all alone…” Oikawa added, sounding almost mournful.

“So? It's not surprising?” Makki said with a shrug.

“That's the girl you were talking about the other day?” Matsukawa asked curiously, “Your childhood friend?”

“We're not friends, just acquaintances. I'm sure Iwaizumi knows her more than me.”

“Uh? I don't know her at all…” He muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“Then! Why not get to know her?” Oikawa exclaimed cheerfully, clapping his hands together.

The three other young men glanced at him sparkling happily.

“Where did that come from, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at his friends.

He was now sure that Oikawa had something planned – otherwise he wouldn't be obsessing with Akiyama so much.

“But, Iwa-chan! She's your classmate, shouldn't you worry a little bit more about her if she's all alone? I won't let an innocent young girl be–”

“This tree is a nice spot to eat, right?” Matsukawa interrupted him, pointing at another tree.

“Let's go then,” Makki agreed, already walking there.

“Wait! Mattsun! Makki! Let's invite Kiku-chan to eat with us!” Oikawa exclaimed, jumping in front of his two teammates to stop them from taking another step.

“Why?” Makki asked.

“Who cares about this girl?” Mattsun added, raising an eyebrow.

“This is why you don't have any girlfriend…” Oikawa said very seriously.

The two suddenly felt a vein of annoyance popping but Oikawa ignored them – they wouldn't hit him the way Iwa-chan always did. Realizing that said Iwaizumi wasn't saying a thing, he glanced over at his childhood friend. As surprising as it was for the three young men, he was staring at Kiku from afar. Of course, Tooru was overjoyed by it.

Sensing glances on him, Hajime looked back at them, confused when he noticed them staring.

“What?”

“Ah, she's leaving,” Makki said, “Let's sit on that table then,” he decided.

“Ah! We're too late…” Oikawa muttered but everyone ignored him, walking past him, “Nee! Iwa-chan!” He called, grabbing his arm.

“What is it?”

“Do you really not feel guilty to see her eating all alone?” He asked while the girl went back into the building and disappeared from view.

“…It's not like I can change anything about it anyway… If you want so badly for that girl to not be alone anymore, go talk to her or something…” Iwaizumi said with a half-hearted shrug, not understanding why Oikawa kept rambling on and on about Akiyama.

“But I'm not the one in her class.”

Iwaizumi stared at him, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before joining their teammates to avoid answering any further. Annoyed by his reaction, Oikawa clicked his tongue then followed him, the event forgotten as they continued their initial conversation.

It was only when they went back into their classrooms that Oikawa's strange behavior once again left his teammates confused.

“We're at your class, Iwa-chan!” He exclaimed cheerfully, “Then, we'll see tonight at practice!”

“Uh? But there's still time left before the end of lunchtime…”

“Ah? Yes, but I wanted to discuss something with Mattsun for a while – about blocking!”

“Uh?” Matsukawa said.

“I'll stay with you then,” Hanamaki told Iwaizumi.

“AH!” Oikawa screamed, grabbing Makki's arm, “And I need you for a new theory! A new form of attack we'll need to try when I'm back!”

Silence fell on them, all staring at the setter.

“…Oikawa,” Iwaizumi started with a dark voice, “Are you trying to avoid me or something?”

“Avoid you, Iwa-chan? But I would nev–”

“You know what? Whatever, I don't care. Do whatever you want.” Iwaizumi said angrily, entering his classroom.

Oikawa swallowed hard before glancing hesitantly into his friend's classroom. Iwaizumi sat angrily, arms crossed and right at his side was Akiyama Kiku who startled when he sat so suddenly.

Smiling, Tooru turned around, starting to push his two friends away from class 5.

“Oikawa, what are you planning?” Hanamaki asked.

“It's not like you to push Iwaizumi away. You usually cling to him like a child to his mother.” Matsukawa added, both of them staring at the setter in confusion.

“I am ensuring Iwaizumi's happiness, that's what I'm doing,” Oikawa answered.

“Even though he must be relieved when you're not around to annoy the hell out of him, I’m pretty sure you didn't make him very happy by telling him to fuck off on his own…” Makki remarked, “What are you planning exactly?”

Feeling a little guilty after hearing these words from Hanamaki, Oikawa realized that he had been acting a little weird – and that Iwa-chan probably didn't like the way he was kept away from the three others.

“Well… I am planning for Iwa-chan and Kiku-chan to start dating soon.” Oikawa answered.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa took a double-take, not understanding at first what he meant. Then, their Captain's words echoed in their heads and they almost choked.

“What the fuck?!” Mattsun started.

“WHY?!” Hanamaki screamed, eyes wide in shock.

“The hell you're thinking?!”

“No way he'd fall for her!!”

“Calm down, please!” Oikawa exclaimed when people started glancing at the three of them in the hall, “Keep it a secret from Iwa-chan!!” He pleaded, clapping his hands together.

“NO WAY!” Makki immediately shouted.

“You can't just go and try to decide of his love life for him!”

“That's just wrong!!”

“Shhhh!!” Oikawa exclaimed, shushing them.

They finally stopped screaming while Oikawa glanced around and sighed in relief when people ignored them.

“They're the perfect match for each other – they just don't realize it yet!” Oikawa said, hands on his hips.

“No, no, no. Akiyama is a perfect match for no one. She's not– she's just… she's so not… she's not a dating possibility for anyone in their sane mind…” Hanamaki said with wide eyes, not even wanting to imagine his friend with this girl.

“That's just awful to say, Makki…” Tooru murmured, eyes wide in astonishment.

“I don’t know that girl but I agree that she's not… if you want Iwaizumi to date someone, pick a girl more… less… Uuuh… whatever she is…”

“You can't even find out what you think is wrong with her! Why do you reject this idea so vehemently?” Oikawa exclaimed with a scolding tone.

“What's wrong with her?” Hanamaki started, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows, “Other than her personality and complete inability to speak up with anyone, ever, she's not pretty. She's… even shorter than average, she's not thin at all and she's so…”

He made his cheeks puff out and his arms spread out to show that Kiku didn't have a body he considered attractive in the slightest.

“Just say it – you find her fat.” Matsukawa said bluntly.

“Exactly!” Hanamaki exclaimed, nodding.

“Just because she's rounder than average doesn't mean she's fat. Plus, Iwa-chan isn't the type of men to judge a girl by her appearance!”

“But even someone who doesn't judge by appearance wouldn't want of this girl! Even a blind man! She never says a thing, she's awkward and just… crazy! Ask anyone who tried befriending – and I know what I'm talking about because I live five meters away from her – she's messed up!” Hanamaki exclaimed, shaking his head.

Oikawa seemed thoughtful for a moment before speaking up again:

“With all due respect, Makki, did you talk to her – really talked – since you were children for anything other than casualties? Did you try to get to know her? Did you ever see anyone going to her home and befriend her? Did you ever see anyone with her?”

“…No but that just proves she's not normal…”

“No, it just proves that you're only prejudiced – just like everyone else.” Oikawa concluded.

Sighing, Hanamki and Matsukawa glanced at each other, not knowing how they could convince Oikawa that he was making a mistake.

“Iwaizumi doesn't seem interested anyway. There's no way he'll be from now on.” Hanamaki finally said.

“Ah AH! And that's where I – Iwa-chan's childhood and best friend – get to disagree!” Oikawa piped up happily, putting his hands on his hips proudly, “Iwa-chan's type is… short and cute girls!!”

The wing-spiker and middle-blocker glanced at each other before looking back, unimpressed, at the setter.

“And you base that knowledge on what exactly? He never had any girlfriend before and he never had a crush he told us about either.” Matsukawa said.

“Iwa-chan always turns around and stares at short, cute girls when they walk by him. Also, when we talk about girls, he only ever mentions short, cute ones – and his favorite actresses usually are short, cute o–”

“Ok, ok, we get it. His type is short, cute girls. Akiyama may be short, but she's not cute.” Hanamaki cut Oikawa, shaking his hand disdainfully.

“Here you go again, being a meanie!” He scolded, frowning lightly at his friend.

“Nope, just being honest.”

“The pitiful choice of a girl aside – why do you suddenly want Iwaizumi to get a girlfriend?” Matsukawa asked.

Shocked, Oikawa took a step back, putting a hand on his heart, faking a hurt look on his face.

“Is my best friend's happiness not reason enough…?” He asked with a trembling voice.

“…You're Oikawa Tooru. You must have another reason in mind.” Hanamaki said, Mattsun nodding in agreement.

“I'm hurt…” He replied, a deadpanned expression on his face before sighing, “But if you really want to know… I have personal reasons to wish for Iwaizumi to get busy with a girl.”

“Personal reasons? What sort of reasons?” Matsukawa asked suspiciously.

Oikawa put one hand on his hip and the other up, shaking his finger 'no' while ticking his tongue.

“Ta, ta, ta. I won't tell you for the moment. Just promise not to say anything to Iwa-chan, ok~?” He said with a wink – which, unlike his fangirls, didn't work at all on his two teammates.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stared at him before sighing deeply.

“It's going to slap you back hard, Oikawa…”

“But well, if you really want to keep it a secret – it'll be a great show to watch…” Matsukawa said with a shrug.

“You're the bests~” Oikawa hummed happily.

On Friday, 3rd year class 5…

“Everyone, quiet!” The History teacher exclaimed when he entered the classroom.

The conversations quieted down and the few students that had been standing took their seats. Everyone turned their attention to the teacher who spoke up:

“Before starting today's lesson, there is something I want to talk to you about. You will have some papers to do that you will present in front of the class.”

Iwaizumi heard a pen drop and when he glanced at his left, he noticed Kiku looking pale before taking her pen back in her trembling fingers.

“You will be in group of two or three that I will choose–”

Almost everyone started whining at once at this, they were bound to be paired with people they didn't get along with. But when the teacher continued, most people shut up to listen to what he'd say:

“On the other hand, you are free to choose any topic that we will be studying this year. It will be only a ten minutes presentation but I want you to work seriously on it – it will be a fourth of your final mark.”

“Waaah!”

“No fair!”

“No way!!”

“Stop complaining!” The teacher scolded, hitting lightly the blackboard to bring back attention, “I want your topic by Monday – decide it this weekend and it won't hurt to start working on it as well. I will now give you the pairs and the date you will present your paper. Listen carefully because I won't be repeating.”

He started calling the students' names from a sheet he was reading on. A few minutes went by, some chatting about their temporary paired classmate.

“Akiyama Kiku.” The teacher called, making the girl startle nervously.

At once, all the students who weren't paired with anyone yet glanced worriedly at the girl – of course, no one wanted to be paired with the awkward girl in the back who never talked and even less to have a fourth of their final mark depending on Akiyama when she couldn't speak up in front of anyone. She moved her fingers anxiously while the teacher stared at her before opening his lips to speak up the other name of the person she'd have to work with.

“Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Iwaizumi was yawning in boredom when he heard his name and choked. Everyone else sighed in relief while he stood up abruptly, almost making his chair fall over.

“W-what?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Stop sleeping in class, Iwaizumi-kun – you're paired with Akiyama-san for the paper. You'll present it on Thursday in two weeks. Then…”

The teacher continued while Iwaizumi felt his heart beating a little too strongly as he glanced down at Akiyama. She glanced up at him at the exact time, looking a little relieved to be paired with him but baffled by his earlier reaction.

And I didn't want to think about her anymore…! Oikawa will have the time of his life teasing me now! He thought to himself, flushing in embarrassment and glancing away.

He sat back awkwardly, not daring to glance in Akiyama's direction.

What the hell? Was the only thing he could think of for the rest of the History class.

Once the idea that Akiyama and him would have to work on a History paper together settled in, Iwaizumi didn't really mind. He just hoped she'd be able to speak on her own without too much trouble. And also that she'd choose an interesting subject of paper.

At the end of class, almost all pairs gathered around tables to discuss their papers.

Iwaizumi glanced at Akiyama who was fumbling awkwardly with something around her neck – was it a necklace?

She glanced at him and when she noticed he was staring, she quickly pulled her necklace back behind her uniform ribbon.

“So… uh… you have an idea of paper?” He asked, head resting on his palm.

Akiyama seemed hesitant before opening her History book. She looked for something for a moment until finding a page she had been looking for and finally, turning it towards Iwaizumi.

“W-would i-it… be… a-all right…?” She asked in a low voice, pointing at some samurai from a History lesson about the Edo era.

Overjoyed about working on samurais, Iwaizumi instantly lit up, a huge grin spreading over his face.

“Yeah! I like it! Let's do that!” He exclaimed.

Kiku grinned brightly when he liked the subject, making Hajime take a double take at her face brightened by her smile. He blinked but almost instantly, as fast as it had appeared, the smile had disappeared from her face and she quickly turned away from him.

Some time later, while changing clothes for practice, Iwaizumi mentioned the paper he'd have to work on with Akiyama, making Hanamaki and Matsukawa blink at him in disbelief – Oikawa was sparkling excitedly at another side.

“Uh…? Repeat that?” Hanamaki hesitated, blinking.

“The teacher paired Akiyama and I for a History paper – I'm glad she chose to work on samurais! Never thought she'd like this sort of things though…” Iwaizumi said with a little smile, “I'm going ahead, hurry everyone!” He said with a little wave.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa followed him, staring at his back as he walked off.

“I can't freaking believe it…” Matsukawa muttered, eyes wide.

“Do you think Oikawa paid the teacher to pair them together?” Hanamaki asked in disbelief.

“Nah, it's more like witchcraft…” He answered just as Oikawa waltzed by them proudly.

“It's called fate~” He answered with a wave, “Iwa-chan~! Wait for me~!” He shouted, following his best friend.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa glanced at each other before going to the same conclusion:

“Witchcraft,” they said in one voice with a nod.

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