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wonjaekook · 3 years

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Residual Starshine

Pairing: Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader

Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.

Word Count: 19.3k

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst

Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @junglewoos @insomni-writing @neowritingsnet

This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.

You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds. All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.

Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.

When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.

Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-

You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”

Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.

“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”

One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”

“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.

“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.

“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”

Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”

With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”

After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”

“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”

“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”

“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.

“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.

You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”

“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”

You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”

He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”

“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.

“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”

He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”

“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.

“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”

“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”

“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”

You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”

“Great morning, isn’t it?”

You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”

“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.” “You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.

“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”

“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.

The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.

Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.

As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.

You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”

He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”

You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.

Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.

That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.

“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.

“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”

“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”

“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.

“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”

Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”

“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.

Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”

“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”

“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”

“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”

“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.

That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.

The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.

The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.

“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.

“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”

“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.

He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”

“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.

“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”

You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”

“What position does he play?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”

“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.

“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.

“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.

“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.

“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”

You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”

A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.

From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.

You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.

The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”

After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.

Then, the whistle is blown.

The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.

For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.

The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.

The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.

“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”

When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”

“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.

“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.

“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”

“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”

“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.

“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”

There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.

Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.

“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”

You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”

“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”

You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”

The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.

“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.

“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.

After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”

You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.

“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.

“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.

From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”

Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”

Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”

As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.

“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”

It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.

A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.

You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.

On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.

As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.

There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.

You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.

The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.

To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.

Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.

NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??

An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.

He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”

You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”

“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?” “I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.

B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.

At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.” The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”

“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”

“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.

You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.

Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”

Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”

You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”

“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.

“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.

“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.

Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!” “I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.

“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”

There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”

“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.

Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”

He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”

“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.

“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.

You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.

The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”

At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”

He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.

Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”

You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”

The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”

“This again?” You say, frowning.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”

“I also help you with your statistics homework.”

“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”

“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”

You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”

You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”

On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”

“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”

“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”

You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.

The next Friday, you receive a strange text.

Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?

You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.

Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics

Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.

Y/N: Hi! What’s up?

Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble

Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?

Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.

As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”

Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”

“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”

The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”

“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.

“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”

“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”

It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.

When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”

“You could say that.”

The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”

“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.

As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”

His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”

“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.

“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.

“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”

Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”

He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”

You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”

That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”

“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”

“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”

His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”

The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.

Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”

“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”

“I get it,” you respond, nodding.

“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?

Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.

When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.

That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.

When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?

Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.

The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.

Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.

During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”

He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”

“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”

“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”

“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”

“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.

You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.

“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”

“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.

“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”

“I asked him to.”

“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.

“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.

“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”

“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.

You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”

“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”

The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.

After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.

“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.

“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.

“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”

“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.

“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”

“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”

“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”

With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.

You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…

It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.

That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?

You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question. You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.

Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.

The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.

Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.

“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”

You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.

Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.

He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.

As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.

You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.

The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.

At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.

You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.

He misses.

You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.

The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.

You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.

You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.

“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.

“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.

“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.

“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”

The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”

“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”

He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.

“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”

You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”

“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”

“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”

“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.

“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.

As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench. “Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”

“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.

“Yuta, it’s me.”

“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”

“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.

“You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.

“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.

“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.

“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.

“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.

“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”

“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.

“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.

“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”

The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”

“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”

“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”

His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”

He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”

You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.

“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.

“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”

The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.

The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.

You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.

You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.

Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”

“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”

You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”

You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.

“These have to come off.”

“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.

“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”

You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.

“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.

“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”

He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.

His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.

You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.

“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”

“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-

Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”

You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”

“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”

“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”

“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”

“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”

The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”

The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”

“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.

His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.

“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”

“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-

“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.

“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”

All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.

Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”

“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.

Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”

You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”

“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.

As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”

He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”

You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”

“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”

“Hm?”

“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.

You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”

“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”

“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”

He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”

He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.

“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.

“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.

“Do you want to go professional?”

He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”

“I really think you could do it!”

Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”

At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.

Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.

In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.

When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.” “Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”

“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”

“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.

“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”

“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”

“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”

He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”

“You’re weird and a horndog and-”

“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.

“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”

“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.

He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.

He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.

Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”

“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.

“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”

“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”

You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.

Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”

“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”

“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”

“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.

“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.

“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.

“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”

He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”

With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”

You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.” “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”

Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”

“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”

“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”

You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”

As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.

“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”

“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”

He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”

Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.

“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.

“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”

Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”

“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”

“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.

“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.

“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.

He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”

“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.

He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.

Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.

You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.

When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.

“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”

It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.

It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.

#yuta smut #yuta fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #neowritingsnet #nct angst #yuta angst #nct one shot #yuta one shot #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #yuta imagine #nct imagine #yuta fanfiction #yuta fanfic #sports collab #i hope everyone enjoys this :)#apologies for lateness #wonjaekook

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linkspooky · 4 years

Text

Shigaraki’s Family

Shigaraki has to date fought against villains, won, and then taken something from them in his victory. This time however he’s not up against a villain but a bad hero. The lesson Shigaraki is going to learn from Endeavor is exactly as he says: you heroes hurt your own families just to help complete strangers. Family is more important. It’s also what makes him the opposite of Endeavor, Shigaraki always chooses his found family over his own ambitions, whereas Endeavor puts his ambitions to be a hero over his family. MORE UNDER THE CUT.

1. Shigaraki and Endeavor

There is actually a lot of connecting threads between Shigaraki and Endeavor’s characters. They are both characters who are considered inferior replacements to the previous king of both the hero and villain worlds, Shigaraki is called a worthless successor again and everybody prefers All Might to Endeavor.

They are also characters who both believe they need to become stronger than anyone. Their quirks are partially incompatible with their bodies and they often hurt themselves going overboard using them and because of that they feel weak even when they are strong. Shigaraki in part - chooses to have Ujiko experiment on his body, even if it is an influenced choice. They both try to settle things with power first.

However even in that they are different: Shigaraki was raised to believe by AFO that he owed AFO, continually made to feel unworthy for everything AFO had given him and had his ambition to be king of villains thrown on his shoulders. Endeavor decided to do those things all on his own from a position of relative financial security and safety within hero society.

However, the way they treat the people closest to them is completely opposite. The League of VIllains that Shigaraki creates is again and again remarked upon as a place where people are allowed to be themselves. The league is a place of trust and acceptance. It’s remarked several times that the league genuinely trusts one another.

Consider Shigaraki’s main personality traits, anti-social, awkward, immature. He’s modeled to act like a NEET and an overgrown manchild. He easily could have made no connection at all to the League of Villains. He could have stayed the person he was at the start of the story, someone willing to kill new recruits five minutes after meeting them. He could have even run things like AFO, choosing to either turn his followers into worshippers, or act entirely from the shadows controlling them like a puppeteer.

My point being - Shigaraki is not the easiest person to get along with, or even understand, and yet he made a deliberate choice to get closer to the league. The league is this way because Shigaraki is this way. The league values people first, because Shigaraki puts people first. It’s who he is at the core of his being. Tenko played with the kids nobody else would play with, stood up to bullies, and wanted to be a hero even when his father told him no. That part of Shigaraki hasn’t changed.

It’s Shigaraki himself who creates the healthy environment of the league. Somewhere along the way, Shigaraki began to consider them a family. Even if he’s not direct in stating it, or even as outwardly friendly as Twice about it.

Shigaraki’s definition of family is made clear in his dreams and flashback. Family doesn’t reject you. Shigaraki in making the league his family sets out to do the opposite of what his father did, create a place where the people close to him are accepted for who they are and valued as individuals. They aren’t judged by their quirk, or even their contribution to the team. Giran is saved even after he stops being useful, Spinner’s quirk is so weak he can only cling to walls and yet he’s trusted as one of the top members.

The way Shigaraki treats his own family - his allies is the exact opposite of Endeavor. He doesn’t try to control who they are, he doesn’t force them, but he does lead and they choose to follow. Even members who insist again and again that they don’t care about the other members of the league, and they’re not in it to help Shigaraki like Dabi are trusted.

Compare this to Endeavor’s interactions with Hawks, someone who has been in Endeavor’s corner from the beginning and yet someone Endeavor absolutely refuses to trust or even understand a little bit. Shigaraki always gives Dabi free reign, Endeavor snaps at and threatens Hawks several times, getting angry in all of their interactions.

If the League is somewhere where you are free to choose who you are, Endeavor creates an oppressive environment. Even if he is repentant about his past actions with Shoto, he still takes every oppurtunity he possibly can to mould Shoto into who he wants him to be.

Even post redemption - Shouto has to be his heir, Shouto has to master his technique. Not only that but if Endeavor suddenly decides he wants to act more like father and son Shouto has to go along with that too. Endeavor’s view of the world is still self-centered. He’s the patriarch,he’s in a position of power, and he uses that to revolve everything around his own desires for other people.

In Shigaraki’s words, Endeavor rejects who Shoto is.

Endeavor has status, prestige, and connections in the hero world and he uses that to get what he wants: Shoto working alongside him, Shoto learning from him, Shoto allowing him to pass on his technique flash fire. When Shoto is reluctant, Endeavor will put pressure on him, send him multiple messages, contact him when he’s not wanted. When Shoto doesn’t want to play father son with Endeavor, and only wants to apprentice to him in an official capacity Endeavor acts disappointed.

Endeavor still views Shoto as the one he pours the most attention into because Shoto has the strongest quirk. Endeavor creates an oppressive environment, Shoto is not free, Shoto is not valued as an individual.

The one good thing Endeavor does is back off with Natsuo and Fuyumi, and allow them to live in a house separate from him even though he personally wants to be with the rest of his family. However, his behavior towards Shoto for the most part hasn’t changed (which is you know the foiling, Endeavor did to Shoto what AFO did to Shigaraki).

2. Family First

Endeavor’s ambitions will always be more important than his family. We see this in the choices he makes so far his arc. Let’s look at the last thing Endeavor remarked upon before the battle started.

He regrets that Toya, a child he was responsible for died under his watch. We still don’t know the exact circumstances but considering the parallel with Shigaraki it’s very possible, Endeavor’s ambitions to be a hero were what directly hurt his own son.

If Endeavor is repetant then family should come first before his ambitions correct: but here are the choices Endeavor makes this arc.

Remember Endeavor is someone who literally tried to raise a child soldier, by forcing five year old Shoto into aggressive quirk training. He of all people should be sensitive to what exactly is wrong with the Hero Commission’s plans to use children and students as a backup against villains who will be using lethal force in a war zone to try to kill them.

Not only that but he chooses this action without permission and without consent of the families of the children. Natsuo and Fuyumi have no idea what is happening to Shoto right now.

In general, the heros choose actions again and again to put the people they should be responsible for into danger. When Midnight is being overwhelmed by villains rather than telling the children she’s supposed to be protecting to retreat from the monster capable of destroying cities she asks them to do something illegal.

Whereas, the league always makes the opposite choice this arc. They choose to protect one another in the tight knit family group.

The league watches out for each other’s well being.

Shigaraki’s first order was to bring his family to him. Gigantomachia would have made it to Shigaraki’s side already, if Shigaraki didn’t value the league so much that he protected them first over himself and instructed Gigantomachia to do so as well.

The heroes right now are choosing again and again to sacrifice not only the individual, but the individuals they are personally responsible and let them go into danger for the sake of a victory.

The villains are making the opposite choice. Shigaraki is personally responsible for the found family of the league as the leader, and the league’s every choice has always been to protect each other and put the safety of their allies first rather than sacrificing them for a cause. It’s even reflected in Twice’s final choice that leds to his death. He cares more about the league to the point where he acknowledges he might be thrown out after all of this is over and still chooses to use his last act protecting them anyway.

While yes, the heroes do make these sacrifices to protect innocent people. Innocent people also get hurt from these same heroes. Hawks was innocent, a disadvantaged child that the hero commission took advantage of. Shoto was innocent, but raising him up as a hero was more important than Shoto’s health and well being as a child. Heroes are supposedly making these sacrifices to protect innocents, and yet innocents still get hurt underneath the hero system that they’re giving everything to protect.

That’s why the themes of friendship and even family resonate so well with the league of villains because we’ve seen them consistently choose each other over and over again. That is likely what Shigaraki is going to awaken to at the end of his fight with Endeavor, that he’s not doing this for ambition like Endeavor, or AFO, that he really is fighting against the whole world to protect his small family.

#shigaraki tomura #league of villains #league of villains meta #shigaraki meta #my hero academia meta #mha meta #my hero academia #lov meta #shimura tenko #tomura shigaraki

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aestheticaxolotl · 3 years

Text

Lets Talk about Roundabout

I have... Opinions about this man.

Let me start with “Nigel Braithwaite” Roundabout first as seeing the Carmen Sandiego Wiki, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show)

“Roundabout is a man of Asian ancestry, with short cut black hair that is graying at the temples. He wears round glasses, a suit, and a bow tie.”

His has to be around the same age as the youngest member of the Faculty, this is complicated seeing as we never get exact ages in the show, so I’m going to go with the easy option of mid to late forties. That’s SUPER AMBITIOUS seeing as this man is in HIGH profile. This is also provided on the wiki with his very, very, very high profile job as a MI6 Agent in the United Kingdom.

If you don’t know that the MI6 is, then let me provide you with this

“ The Secret Intelligence Service, commonly known as MI6, is the foreign intelligence service of the United Kingdom, tasked mainly with the covert overseas collection and analysis of human intelligence in support of the UK's national security.”

Roundabout is the UK’s Secret Services.

I don’t know about you but I’m now even more interested in how this man met V.I.L.E. But as of this point I can only theorize.

Now, let me move to the Personality section of the Wiki page, I had to really filter out a lot to leave out the sections of the show, so please bare with me!

He seems to be very proper in his speaking, as seen when he is talking to Professor Malestrom. Like his namesake, "Roundabout" speaks in a roundabout way with people, making sure to imply something without saying it, and covertly having people tell him what he wants to hear. Such was the case with a British Intelligence worker, as Roundabout had informed his department to be on alert for any suspicious or illegal criminal activity. He is a man of elite education and standing, having both the intelligence and foresight to maneuver parties within British Intelligence to give him information to monitor possible actions against V.I.L.E. from afar. Due to this, while not physically present for Faculty votes or discussions, he still shows interest in holding the position now empty by Shadowsan's betrayal. His pride has diminished and was replaced with nervousness after he was placed under the threat of mind-wipe. He was clearly fearful of the other Faculty and his punishment after his failure, only to be dragged away to the dungeon for his punishment.

Let me take a second to point out the bold font. These are the bullet points that I would like to take a second (Or more) to focus on. “ Roundabout" speaks in a roundabout way with people, making sure to imply something without saying it, and covertly having people tell him what he wants to hear.” Roundabout as a vocabulary term means “ To imply or convey something in an indirect, vague, or evasive manner.” This is very indicative of the character of Roundabout seeing as (with his position in power) and his way of speaking causes people to trust and listen to what he has to say, and causes them to give him what he wants to hear. It’s a form of Gaslighting.

Next lets move to the next bold mark. “He is a man of elite education and standing” This is less of a focal point and more of a fact. I MEAN THE MAN WENT TO OXFORD. Come ON! Okay, that’s all for this one-

“ While not physically present for Faculty votes or discussions, he still shows interest in holding the position now empty by Shadowsan's betrayal.” Update, in reading the history of Roundabout in the wiki (Link will be at the end), it is pointed out that Roundabout did attend V.I.L.E, then was Faculty instructor who had infiltrated Her Majesty's secret service. Roundabout teaching is an important detail seeing as we have only seen the Faculty (Maelstrom, Cleo, Shadow-San, Brunt and Bellum) teaching classes. WHAT?! In retrospect this has to be a retcon for him but I have found NO confirmation of this. I have a feeling, a theory perhaps, that during the same time as Shadowsan was hunting Dexter Wolfe, Roundabout was starting the one illegal diamond mining operation in Botswana. I believe that this was to see who would take Wolfe’s place at the table. As we all know Shadowsan ended up taking this place and it ended up shoving Roundabout to the background where he literally, began to plot his over throw of Shadowsan (Which never happened because he defecated before Roundabout go the chance to kill him).

Now, onto my favorite point in character. “He was clearly fearful of the other Faculty” But what? He was part of the faculty for a portion in time! Perhaps but just because you can respect people, but also fear them. Roundabout is about to have his memories wiped for his failure, but is fortunately spared due to Dr. Bellum’s malfunctioning tech. This was a gift sent from GOD to him as this gave him the ability to prove his worth, and makes it clear that he will not be forgiven if he fails again to Maelstrom and the others. I mean he obviously failed because Mimebomb and Neal do NOT work well together (Also no bias at all because of my Axoleelship). But I assume he was ‘rescued’ at the end of the series? The never wiped his brain so I have... Many questions about this.

Now onto the most painful part of my day, We are going to talk about the abilities and advantages of Roundabout.

As one of the five masterminds of V.I.L.E., Roundabout had near supreme authority in the organization, and with his former position in British Intelligence, he was perhaps Carmen's most formidable adversary. As a high position agent of MI6, Roundabout was able to access and monitor information not easily accessible to others. He made use of his position to gain intelligence on when authorities arrive and keep track of both V.I.L.E. and A.C.M.E. movements and coordinate V.I.L.E. operatives to stay one step ahead of A.C.M.E. upon learning of Carmen's "alliance" with them. Appropriately for someone filling the position held by Shadowsan and Dexter Wolfe, he too is a master of stealth, but his stealth expertise is by avoiding detection through diversionary tactics, diverting attention away from himself rather than avoiding it altogether. In combat, Roundabout is shown to be a highly capable fencer, claiming he was previously the captain of the Oxford fencing team and was skilled enough to overwhelm Shadowsan, a skilled swordsman in his own right

Again take note of my bolded marks.

“Roundabout had near supreme authority in the organization.” As a V.I.L.E faculty member I hope this doesn’t have to be explained.

“He was perhaps Carmen's most formidable adversary” On the other hand is a very interesting thing to take into account, and the proof behind this is very reliable. This man is part of the MI6, in a high position, has access to many different reliable sources that relate to A.C.M.E. AND V.I.L.E. He’s playing a massive game of chess with HIMSELF. And I LOVE THAT FOR HIM. I’ll link the second bolded quote here as more proof. “He made use of his position to gain intelligence on when authorities arrive and keep track of both V.I.L.E. and A.C.M.E. movements and coordinate V.I.L.E. operatives to stay one step ahead of A.C.M.E.”

“He too, is a master of stealth, but his stealth expertise is by avoiding detection through diversionary tactics, diverting attention away from himself rather than avoiding it altogether” I find this as one of the most telling things about Roundabout. He is not one for direct conflict unless it is absolutely needed, I’ll point to the battle between Shadowsan and Roundabout on Big Ben. He’s got to be on really good terms with the Cleaners with how often operatives get caught or mess up.

Finally, may favorite thing to point at.

“Skilled enough to overwhelm Shadowsan”

WHAT?! Roundabout is SKILLED enough to fight off Shadowsan, WHO WAS PART OF THE YAKUZA?! I LOVED watching the dream daddies duel. It was so impressive and smooth and perfect.

In conclusion, Roundabout is a really awesome character who doesn’t get as much praise as he deserves. He doesn’t really get as much screen time as I think he needs and was possibly a retcon, but one done fairly well. I’m not gonna finish with anything too fancy or great, except for the fact that I like this character.

Welp, thanks for reading!

#roundabout #carmen sandeigo spoilers #where in the world is carmen sandiego #vile faculty #headcanon #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo headcanon

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retvenkos · 3 years

Note

There have been rumors that sab is going to include six of crows next season. Any thoughts?

whoo, do i have some thoughts™.

i should preface by saying, though, that if you are excited, good for you! if you think it’s a concept™, it most certainly is, and if you don’t want to see hate for the idea, then do not read ahead. i have some things to say about the idea, and none are too positive.

let’s get into it...

lol, plenty of spoilers ahead. mostly for the six of crows duology.

✧ *:･ﾟ

first of all, let’s hit it from an obvious, show running perspective.

six of crows is a lot™. there is so much happening in that book, and even more happening in crooked kingdom. not only are there new characters to add and explore, but there is new lore and new places that would all have to be hit. already, i felt like shadow and bone season one went fast. there was a lot to establish, and even more to expand upon, and i think there is so much to cover that trying to squeeze it all in would be a disservice to the characters and the world, which is the exact opposite of what the showrunners want, since they are lining up the grishaverse to be the new fantasy hit.

especially when the shadow and bone trilogy is adding in new places and characters, i don’t see the need for them to shoehorn in the six of crows duology. i’m sure there’s plenty for the crows to do, during these following two seasons. in fact, i’d even be fine if they wrote the crows out of the third season (which would ideally follow ruin and rising) entirely and maybe threw in a cameo at the end to get viewers excited for a six of crows show.

basically, there’s so much to cover, and shadow and bone already hit the ground running. i think that adding in the six of crows story arc would be too much of a time crunch, on the runtime of the show.

✧ *:･ﾟ

secondly, i’m ranting about a couple of characters, and how they are not six of crows duology ready.

the easiest one to talk about is kaz brekker, because book!kaz is dirtyhands kaz. our first introduction to kaz in the boks is him telling an opposing gang member that he can’t kill kaz, because if he does, his girlfriend will burn in a fire, and no matter how fast he runs, he won’t get there in time. kaz is like... “do you smell that? i think it’s her hair burning.”

and this is a more mild transgression of dirtyhands kaz. in the same book, kaz pulls a man’s eye out, he swallows lock picks, and he plans and executes the greatest heist of all time.

compare this to kaz in the show. kaz in the show is just a mean, angry boy in comparison. and this isn’t me hating on freddie carter - he did an amazing job. and this isn’t me hating on the writers either. i understand why they did that.

decidedly, there is a lot™ happening in shadow and bone season one. you don’t really get a lot of time with any one character, and if you do, it’s the shadow and bone characters. the showrunners knew they had to make kaz a likeable character to people coming into the series blind, and kaz brekker is a pretty hard character to like when you don’t get his backstory or even the slightest hint of it. part of what the six of crows books had going for it was the changing point of views, and inej’s trust and feelings for kaz. inej narrates a lot of stuff, and she does it in a more sympathetic way, making us give kaz the benefit of the doubt - especially since inej is such an upstanding character. you get a little bit of that is the netflix show, but you can’t get a lot of it because (1) time constraints, and (2) inej and kaz are actually at odds for a lot of the show - especially the opening bit. literally, their first interaction is a fight.

so, to get newer fans invested in this emo teen, they made him less dirtyhands. this is also fine because these events happen before the six of crows duology.

if we start the six of crows arc in season two, however, there is too much growth for kaz to do in between seasons. we need to see some of that on screen. especially since his plans were a bust, and the most dirtyhands thing he did was with the inferni, and he wasn’t the one to kill the inferni - inej was. (and i love that scene like the rest of you, but there could have been other ways to get inej to save kaz while letting kaz show some more of that ruthlessness.)

and that’s just kaz. admittedly, he’s an easy character to pick apart, but we have to talk about a few more.

nina zenik? yeah, let’s talk about her. the six of crows nina we knows has a lot of guilt over what she did to matthias - even if a lot of it is repressed. she has a slew of complex emotions over matthias, and it’s all been fermenting inside of her for a year. point is, in the show nina still thinks what she did was right, and she hasn’t had time to question that inside of herself. sure, in the books she still posits that what she did was justified, but there’s a bit of uncertainty there, caused by the acidity of guilt. i want to see that war inside of nina. it makes their love story all the more compelling.

and while we’re talking about helnik, let’s just cover matthias helvar real quick, because, personally, his character needs that time spent in hellgate, now more than ever.

i’ve already mentioned my beef with aging up matthias is a few other posts, but why don’t i reprise it?

matthias is an incredibly complex character, and part of what makes his change earnest is two things - the struggle he continues to feel throughout the duology, and his age. now stick with me.

part of matthias’ struggle is that he is still that little boy whose family were killed by grisha. in the books, matthias is only 18. that seems mature, but by all accounts, it most definitely isn’t. he doesn’t know anything about the world. he has been training to be a religious soldier, where he was heavily indoctrinated. what has matthias truly seen of the world? likely, very little.

furthermore, because he’s only 18, how many expeditions has he been on? sure, matthias has seen grisha tried for their “crimes” and he has been training against grisha since he was a boy, but do you think they’re putting eleven year old matthias out there, against full grown grisha? my bet is he only started truly hunting grisha when he was 14.

when he meets nina, he hasn’t been hunting grisha long, and he’s young enough to where we could truly see how him being smitten with nina could impact his thoughts.

matthias in the show is played by a man who is 27. no hate, this isn’t ageism, but if he’s been hunting grisha since he was 14, he’s been hunting grisha for 12 years. he has gone out on numerous expeditions. hell, in the show they give matthias a large amount of credit for capturing nina. it is sO much harder for you to buy the “nina is a beautiful grisha and has changed my life” storyline when he’s 27, almost 30. furthermore, this matthias has seen way more grisha trials. the concept that he doesn’t know that grisha aren’t given a fair trial is just absurd, at this point. furthermore, you add on the fact that he’s been indoctrinated longer, and it makes his story all the more difficult to grapple with.

on the one hand, i understand that they aged everyone up (which i was happy about, for the majority of characters. kaz, i am once again looking at you). on the other hand, it puts a huge strain on matthias’ character, and if they were to try to juggle the six of crows plot with the shadow and bone plot, so much nuance would be lost and the majority of new fans would not understand people liking matthias. you would risk alienating his character (and nina’s, by effect) and that is not what either character (or actor!) deserves.

they’ve already made it so hard for us to buy the “nina changes matthias” storyline - even though they’ve made him a tad sweeter and more likeable - and if they try to fast track it, it’s going to fall through.

i think matthias needs his time in hellgate for some soul searching and some struggle. with matthias, the only way out is through, and we need to have time for that to happen.

inej and jesper are a little less difficult to juggle since they’re are done pretty well, but i don’t want to see their complexity and nuance fall through (especially jesper’s) because the show is doing too many things at once.

basically, the crows are currently in their fledgling state, and if they were to be thrown into the six of crows storyline, it would not be nearly as fulfilling.

✧ *:･ﾟ

finally, i just want to say that the overall genre and theme of six of crows and shadow and bone are completely different. i feel like there would be far too much dissonance in the show. you could already feel it in season one, but because alina fears being kidnapped and then she goes on the run, it works. six of crows, though, is a completely different show and i think it would be odd to shift from ~life aboard sturmhond’s ship~ to ~breaking and entering in the ice court~.

✧ *:･ﾟ

anyway, those are my thoughts, anon. surely you didn’t ask for this, but you received it, anyway.

#shadow and bone spoilers #s&b spoilers #spoilers #grishaverse #asks #kaz brekker #matthias helvar #i'm only tagging those two because i really only talk about them

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anevolutionarynecessity · 4 years

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I know I’ve already talked about this but I still find it deeply concerning that more of this fandom didn’t recognize Hélène’s sexual harassment of Villanelle in S3E7 for exactly what it is...sexual harassment.

One the one hand, it’s difficult to point this out and make a Big Deal™️ out of it because I’m well aware that people have their own interpretations. This show is brilliant because of how many angles you can consider any given situation from. I love that.

Except Hélène literally sexually harassed Villanelle. There is absolutely no room for (mis)interpretation here. It was made as explicit as it could possibly be; this is one of the most unsubtle scenes in the entire series and it’s the most disturbing one by far. All the elements of sexual harassment are there: unwanted physical contact (WHICH MEANS NO CONSENT), manipulation, invalidation, implicit and EXPLICIT sexual overtones, abuse of power. Most importantly it makes the victim feel embarrassed, distressed, confused, and hurt.

Villanelle was so very clearly all of this while Hélène is touching her that it appalls me how this fandom responded.

So guess what? I’m making a Big Deal™️ out of this.

Don’t get me wrong: it’s a brilliant scene. It serves the characters and the plot exceptionally. I have no issue with Killing Eve exploring dark themes. The show’s premise is entirely dark to begin with, after all. And I dare say that it’s very important to show sexual abuse that is perpetuated by women on women because this shit is too often left in the shadows.

So when I notice this fandom romantizising sexual harassment, I feel very concerned. This indicates to me that the fandom (worryingly, younger members of the fandom too) either cannot recognize sexual harassment properly or they are able to see certain aspects of it but then just shrug because the victim claims to have “enjoyed it.”

What do I mean by the fandom romanticzing sexual harassment? Why, I mean all the gif sets and memes and text posts hyperfixating on how hot Hélène is and how Villanlle’s comment to her “you’re so sexy” means it’s totally okay for a hot French milf to touch her inappropriately and how it wasn’t really inappropriate if Villanelle thinks it’s sexy and oh well it’s just a part of her character to be into older women so we’ll just give Hélène a free pass then haha

This is the exact same outlook that victims of sexual abuse constantly fight against. “She enjoyed it” or “this was my fault” or “she knows better than me” and “she’s hot so it’s fine” like

Yes, Hélène is hot. Yes, Hélène is rich. Yes, Hélène is powerful, especially in relation to Villanelle. Particularly holding the power of life and death over her if she is not pleased with Villanelle’s performance.

That’s exactly the point of Hélène. And somehow, way too many of you missed it.

And I don’t know if it’s just too hard for people to discuss all forms of sexual harm openly (because it’s understandably triggering and inherently traumatizing) or if they’re actively turning a blind eye or if they simply take the scene at face value but like...Villanelle literally called Hélène out for inappropriate touching and this fandom still needs to be hit over the head with the actuality of this situation.

It’s also extremely important to point out Villanelle has already been in an absuive realtionship with an older woman, Anna. She was already damaged significantly from Anna’s abuse of her teaching position, as well as the sexual complications that arose from this being Villanelle’s first experience with the concept of romance and her own desires. What Hélène does to Villanelle in that imposing medieval boardroom is yet another variant of abuse in the same vein as Anna.

This fandom at least generally agrees that Anna was horrible to and for Villanelle. How is it possible that Hélène’s explicit sexual harassment of Villanelle is not recognized and then processed as such?

And put another way, in case it’s still not sinking in: if Hélène was an old man doing this to Villanelle I guarantee that all of you would be up in arms and wouldn’t be able to shut up about this. But because it’s Hélène and Villanelle carries herself with bravado and makes some smart ass remarks to cover how fucked up she feels, suddenly you’re all like 😍😍😍 Hélène is so hot and Villanelle should go after that French bitch milf because she’s so hot 😏🤤

Hélène is a stone cold (sexual) predator. Hélène sexually harassed Villanelle. At best, Hélène is abusive and toxic. At worst...Hélène sexually harassed Villanelle.

Hélène sexually harassed Villanelle. Full stop.

So please, stop spreading gifsets with thousands of notes that put Hélène in the same “hot milf” category as Anna or Pamela or even Eve. Stop writing thirst posts about Hélène. Stop taking Villanelle’s sexiness at face value in the aftermath of her being sexually harassed.

This isn’t some fetish or kink thing. This isn’t even debatable, to be honest. You’re just doing so much damage if you can’t see this for what it is. And you’re perpetuating a lot of terrible stereotypes about LGBTQ+ women, about the dynamic between older and younger women, and playing into an abuse narrative that’s cost the lives of too many survivours of (sexual) abuse.

Oh and I hope Villanelle does kill Hélène with a tiny chair.

#I’m not getting off the soapbox about this one folks #HÉLÈNE 📢 SEXUALLY 📢 HARASSED 📢 VILLANELLE #AND THAT IS NOT OKAY OR HOT #I swear on Bill’s ghost that this fandom is toxic as fuck #Killing Eve #Villanelle #Jodie Comer #Eve Polastri #Sandra Oh #rant

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

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Anxiety | [Fem!Reader x Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Inspired by a post by @bluegalaxygirl

Notes: This is brought to you by my social anxiety and my thirst for Obi-Wan Kenobi, yaaayy. Also, I have literally no clue how to write feelings.

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Self-Doubt, Self-Conciousness, slight OOC, Fluff

Summary: Y/N has only recently become Obi-Wan’s padawan and she is struggling with her social anxiety and her relationship with her master, so she has a panic attack. Luckily, Obi-Wan himself comes for the rescue.

Word Count: 3868

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She knew that her master would most likely disown her if he found out what she was doing right now. Obviously. Because emotions were prohibited. But she couldn’t control it. Not at all.

Y/N had always been alone. She didn’t join the order when she was an infant. She had lived for 13 years on her own on a small planet in the outer rim. She didn’t even know the name of the ice planet. The life in the tundras had been lonely but she felt comfortable. With the help of the force, she was able to survive just fine. Then the Jedi came.

Master Yoda brought her to Coruscant, introduced her to the council and decided that she should start to learn with the other younglings.

The first mistake he made.

Y/N had never met any children, nor any group that consisted of more than 6 people. Having companions was new territory and being exposed to a huge amount of people for the first had caused her to lash out with the force. By accident, she not only hurt some younglings but also herself. The scars on her arms and left cheek would always remind her of that moment.

That’s when the wise Jedi grandmaster decided to teach her the basics himself. Alone. To help ease her agitation. It was a good idea. Y/N did approve after all. She studied the Jedi, learned the lightsaber forms, meditated. She was a good student, and Master Yoda was proud of her. But then the Clone Wars started and he had no time for teaching her anymore.

So he made his second mistake.

He decided that it was time for her to become someone’s padawan. “Why can’t you be my master?”, she had asked him, her voice void of any emotion but not because she learned to properly follow the code. She had just learned how to hide them. His answer left her intestines churning and she was ready to shut herself in her room. But the Jedi obviously didn’t let her.

“Your new master, this is.”

And that’s how she got introduced to Obi-Wan Kenobi. A formidable Jedi with great patience and a humorous character. A kind soul.

From whom she was hiding right now.

Y/N had been his padawan for two months but she didn’t progress far. Her training went well, that was not the problem. Since they were alone when they meditated or trained. No, the problem was her social anxiety.

Meeting the clone troopers for the first time caused the panic attack she was having right now. They were supposed to have a meeting for an upcoming mission but Y/N ditched them. Not intentionally she’d like to say but that would be a lie.

She had already stood in front of the meeting room’s door but she couldn’t enter. Her legs felt like jelly. The padawan tried to calm herself but it was no use.

Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and she had trouble breathing. Her hands were clammy and she felt uncomfortable because she had broken out in a cold sweat. Footsteps were coming closer and she heard the voice of her Master from inside the room. A shaky breath escaped her lips and she whispered “I’m sorry” before she bolted.

She hid in her room. Not the best place of course, since he would probably search for her here, but there was no other place that calmed her down. Asides from Master Yoda’s side. But the council member was gone on a mission and he would probably also be disappointed if he found out about her panic attack.

Currently, she was leaning against her bathroom door and tried to meditate. But she couldn’t concentrate on her breathing because it felt like she was suffocating. “Don’t worry, Master Obi-Wan will understand”, she would tell herself but that only frightened her more. Because no way in hell would he understand! She had been living in the temple for 2 years but hadn’t met more than 8 people at the same time, not since the accident.

Every time Master Yoda tried to take her to one of the lessons with the younglings, her scars began to hurt. It wasn’t painful since she got used to it but it broke her concentration and seemingly also her spirit. Y/N couldn’t focus with the tingle that went up her arms and the force around her became unstable.

The same was happening now. She could feel it. The air around her felt heavy and made it hard for her to breathe.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She choked the words and tried to hold back a sob from her throat. She wouldn’t cry, because she couldn’t. It wasn’t allowed. And the code was the only thing that stopped her from falling into misery. So she clenched her teeth and tried to stop whimpering.

But thoughts of her master finding her invaded her head and tears threatened to spill.

He would be disappointed. Y/N didn’t worry about him hating her, no. She wouldn’t mind that. But disappointing him was far worse.

She knew that Master Kenobi disliked the idea of having to train a new padawan shortly after Anakin Skywalker, especially during the times of a War. He never showed it of course. But somehow she could feel it. Maybe it was because she had always lived alone, only with the company of animals, who could show their emotions with the force. But she was able to feel to a greater extent than others apparently.

That’s how she knew. That he would most likely spare her a glance and then abandon her. It made sense. She was not fit for a Jedi after all. They were supposed to be the stars of the republic, the peacekeepers who helped every civilian. But this meant that they would be in the light. But her life wasn’t made for that.

She was always meant to stay in the shadows. Where the darkness was calming, reassuring.

Maybe she should just give up and leave. Going home, to her real home, on the unknown ice planet, seemed like a good idea. It was a welcome one.

Y/N didn’t realize how she spiraled deeper down in self-doubt and self-consciousness. But surprisingly she calmed down a little. The thought of returning to her house, that was actually an old transport ship, relaxed her muscles and she could breathe better again.

But then it hit her. She had no money. And in fact, she didn’t even know the exact location of her home planet. Master Yoda never told her. Maybe be knew that she would waver!

Dread fell over her and she let her head hang low. Maybe he never trusted her at all. And when he had enough he cast her aside and let another person take over the dead weight. How Obi-Wan Kenobi must suffer with her as a padawan.

Shame made her cheeks burn and the tears welled up again. But this time they spilled over. Y/N clenched and unclenched her fights slowly. Her fingernails dug into her palm and the pain distracted her from the salty tears that rushed down her cheeks. The scars on her left one throbbed.

Maybe, just maybe, if she curled up and stayed in that position, she would just fade into the darkness and everyone would forget her.

“Have you seen my padawan?”

Obi-Wan was currently walking back and forth in the meeting room, his hand thoughtlessly on his lightsaber while he worried about Y/N. He knew he didn’t give her enough attention and the guilt ate him alive but like Anakin assured him, he was busy with the war and her shyness wasn’t helping with that.

“Your padawan? You know we’ve never seen her face before”, teased Anakin and Ahsoka gave her master an annoyed look.

*No, but… A girl was standing before the meeting room when I arrived half an hour ago”, she replied and Obi-Wan immediately stood a little straighter.

“Did she have h/c hair? And a scarred left cheek?”

Ahsoka tilted her head and tried to remember. “I didn’t see her face but she had h/c hair, yes. But she walked off in a hurry so maybe it wasn’t her.”

Obi-Wan remembered how the young girl always stormed off after their lessons as if she was running from something. He was sure, the person Ahsoka saw, was his padawan.

Why did she walk away? He knew he told her that the meeting started at 1100. Did she forget something? That didn’t seem likely.

“I know your padawan isn’t here, General Kenobi, but we should start anyway. We cannot leave the senator waiting”, said Captain Rex and he nodded in defeat.

The meeting began and they discussed their strategy but Obi-Wan couldn’t quite focus. He remembered the first time he met Y/N. How her young eyes were strangely dull.

The girl was a little shy according to Yoda but he learned fast, that this comment had been an understatement. When they walked to their first training lesson she said nothing. No word left her lips and the Jedi had wondered if she disliked him.

But when they fought he realized that she was nervous. Her attacks were timid and had almost no force and he began to wonder if it was the right decision to say yes. After all, it was only an offer, Yoda didn’t order him to take Y/N as his padawan. He had to admit that he even doubted the grandmaster’s judgment a little. But the girl proved to him that she was a good student. Technically.

Her skills were sharp when she fought against a training droid, she used form four like Master Yoda which surprised him since it was an offensive style. But he never saw her do it when they fought against each other. He wanted to tell her that she could use Ataru but her apprehension also made him hesitate and he felt like he couldn’t talk freely to her. If he needed to be honest, it was a little uncomfortable.

It was strange that he had problems adapting to her but to be fair, Anakin had been completely different when he was her age. It wasn’t just because she started her training a few years later than him, it was also her character.

From what he had learned in the first month, Y/N liked to stay secluded and isolated herself from others at her age. She got embarrassed easily and he often felt like she was like a scared animal that would run away if he made a wrong move.

And there was something else. Sometimes the force would radiate from her. It was as if a pipe had been opened and all her feelings were flushed out through the force. He couldn’t explain why but he never told the Jedi council about her emotions. Obi-Wan told himself that they weren’t concerning but when he stood there in this meeting room with a bad feeling in his chest, he changed his mind.

“…ood, then let’s conclude this meeti-”

“Thank you, Anakin, I’ll see you later. Goodbye”

With these words, he walked out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, he picked up the pace and decided to look for Y/N in her room. It was the only place that seemed to make sense for him. Hopefully, she would be there because if she wasn’t he wouldn’t know where else to look. This realization just showed how much he neglected her and shame and guilt made his heart heavy.

He decided that they needed to talk. It would be hypocritical to spill their emotions when they were supposed to not let themselves be swayed by them but this was about their relationship as student and teacher. He wanted to apologize from deep within his heart. Obi-Wan realized that he had been a bad master for her and he knew that it needed to change.

So he hurried to the south wing, where Y/N’s room was located. He walked up the stairs and as soon as his foot stepped on her floor, he paused.

The force felt weird on this level of the temple. Unease filled his chest and his hand found his lightsaber, since touching it always calmed him down.

His intuition told him the dread that filled the air had something to do with his padawan. He walked down the hallway and stopped before her door. The nameplate next to it was dark, which meant there were no lights on in the room. But he didn’t turn away. He could feel her presence through the force. She was here. And she was hurting.

Worry coursed through his veins and he knocked on the door.

“Y/N? Can we talk?”

He waited a few seconds but there was no response. He knocked again. This time louder.

“Y/N, please. I-”

Obi-Wan stopped and waited, hoping she would answer but the silence remained.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

He didn’t expect a response, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get any. With the help of the force, he opened her door and stepped inside the room. Like the nameplate indicated, the lamps were off, but the big window let enough light inside for him to immediately see that she wasn’t here. She wasn’t laying in her bed, or sitting at the table studying, how he often found her when he was coming to pick her up for training. But the shift in the force was stronger than ever, so he knew she was here. The only place that was left, was the bathroom.

And not much to his surprise, its door was closed. He crossed the room and stopped before it. Now that he was standing so close, he was able to hear sniffles. The sound crushed his heart and he regretted listening to his former padawan so much.

Deep down he had known that what he was doing was badly hurting the young girl but he told himself it would be fine. He forgot how fragile and sensitive people were. Maybe the war had made him heartless. The anxiety he could feel through the force shook him to the core. He tried to steel his nerves but the emotions flowed through him and left his body numb.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his voice was soft.

He heard a breath hitch and the sniffles died down. She noticed him, now all she needed to do was talk to him.

Y/N almost died then and there.

He found her. Obviously. But she had hoped with the naive belief that he wouldn’t. She tried to suppress the sobs and quiet down but it felt impossible and honestly, she didn’t want to. There was a brief thought that she should just let it all out and show him how miserable he made her feel.

But the idea vanished as soon as it appeared. It wasn’t his fault. She was the one who was scared of other people, of interacting. It wasn’t normal, she wasn’t. He was just unfortunate enough to get paired with her.

“Leave me alone.”

Y/N only whispered it and it was almost inaudible but she was sure that he had heard her. He would definitely leave now. Leave her behind like her parents did, how master Yoda did, like everyone d-

“Let me in, Y/N. Please.”

Her heart missed a beat. Master Kenobi’s voice was soft and had a pleading undertone. She could sense genuine worry radiating from him through the force. Worry, guilt and also regret.

When she felt all these emotions, she couldn’t stop the sobs anymore. She pushed herself up and crawled away from the door. Maybe he sensed how she moved away, maybe he didn’t, but the door opened with the help of the force and she could see the blurry shape of her master standing in the doorway.

The light from the room shined in and outlined his features as if he was one of the republic’s posters coming alive. He looked like a savior. And the thought of him being that for her filled her heart with something she couldn’t describe.

He approached her and knelt in front of her. She could see his worried eyes through her tears and the warmth that radiated from his presence in the force. It felt familiar and surprisingly it made her feel like she was safe. Maybe she was allowed to cry some more. Maybe he allowed it until she calmed down and then he would just bring her to the counci-

“I won’t leave you alone anymore, Y/N. I’m sorry. I neglected my duties as your master and made you suffer.”

He held out his hand but paused as if he wanted her permission first to touch her. The padawan sniffled.

“I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan saw that as a cue and lightly touched her shoulders. The moment when his fingers touched her robes felt like a storm abruptly stopped. She stared at him with wide eyes. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to apologize but she suddenly threw herself into his arms.

Y/N cried into her master’s beige robes and her hands were shaking while she hugged him but she didn’t care. She sensed it when he touched her. He genuinely wanted to help her, to ease her pain. And for her, who so desperately wanted somebody to understand her and lend her a hand, it meant the world.

The Jedi was stiff at first since it rarely happened that somebody threw themselves into his arms, but when he felt her shaking hands and how wet his robes got from her tears, he raised his hands and returned the hug. His left hand stroked her back while his right pressed her head closer to his chest.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N.”

The moment was intimate but he didn’t mind. If he could calm her down this way, he would gladly continue until she didn’t need him to do it anymore. Her body slowly stopped trembling and the sobs died down. Her voice was raspy when she said:

“I’m sorry that I didn’t attend the meeting.”

A small laugh escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth. He ruffled her hair and smiled slightly.

“Why would you worry about that? I found you having a breakdown in your bathroom, I believe we have other priorities.”

She nodded and looked up at him. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks slightly red from embarrassment. He let go of her and Y/N backed away until she sat leaning against the bathtub. He watched how she fiddled with her fingers, unsure of what to say.

Her Master then noticed that the force around them had calmed down. The anxiety was partly still there but it felt like an echo. Y/N then took a deep breath and said:

“I’m scared.”

He looked at her but he didn’t say anything, worried that she would stop before she even has properly begun to explain.

“I- I’m scared of people. I can’t really explain why but meeting a group is really stressful for me. It’s… uh… It’s like I feel like everybody’s looking at me and judging me and I can’t, can’t handle that well”, she started and avoided eye contact with him.

“I’ve always been alone and suddenly that changed and now everybody’s expecting me to hang out with all those people and there are so many clones and their feelings and emotions are all over the place, and I get all sweaty and I can’t prop-properly breath and it’s just… I don’t know… too much. It’s too much for me. I’m not used to be in the spotlight. I know that sounds arrogant because I know that not everyone is looking at me and watching every move I make but I just can’t stop from feeling like they do. And I’m feeling all this fear and anxiety and I can’t handle them knowing that what I’m doing is against the code and I feel like a failure, I am a failure and it’s… Maybe Master Yoda was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought me here.”

Y/N knew she was rambling and when she finally stopped to take a breather she looked up and watched her Master’s expression and when she saw his confusion, she regretted telling him.

“This… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, let’s just forge-”

“Do you feel the same with me?”

Master Kenobi’s question made her pause and when she searched his eyes for any disappointment or disdain she couldn’t find any. His words left her wondering. Was she feeling the same with him?

“No…”, it sounded unsure, but she didn’t add anything because she really wasn’t completely sure.

“Let me try to rephrase what you just said, okay?” She only nodded. “Am I correct when I say that you have anxiety when it comes to social interaction?” Again, he received only a nod.

Obi-Wan touched his beard and pondered over what he had just heard. Many things made sense now. Why Y/N was always studying alone, why she ate in her room instead of the cantina and why seemed like she was dying every time he saw her in a room with more than 3 people. But he still didn’t really understand why she had problems with that.

He searched her eyes and when she returned the eye contact he smiled softly and then said:

“I can’t really understand you, but”, he held up his hand when she tried to interrupt him, “I want to understand. And I want to help. I’m sure that the force will guide us both and I believe that, as master and padawan, together we can face your fear and ease it.”

Y/N leaned back, her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breathy laugh. Sneakily she wiped away a tear that threatened to spill again.

“That would be great… Master Kenobi.”

The Jedi’s smile widened and he put up his finger as if he wanted to warn her.

“I would prefer it if you call me Obi-Wan, at least in private.”

The padawan nodded and together they slowly stood up.

“Let’s try”, she added and her voice was quiet but he could hear the determined undertone.

“There is no try, padawan, only-”

“Do or do not, I know that one.”

He raised an eyebrow and then patted her shoulder smiling. It felt a little awkward but then her master interrupted the timid atmosphere:

“You said ‘their emotions are all over the place’. Does that mean you can sense feelings? To what extent?”

Y/N paused. Him speaking about her ability made her feel shy again.

“Uhm… I can tell what a person is feeling without concentrating too much. As long as I want to know, I can sense it clearly.”

Since the light was still not on in the bathroom and he turned away, she couldn’t see his expression but she felt embarrassment radiating from him. Maybe it was because of the moment they had just shared but she suddenly wanted to tease him.

Yet she didn’t. Not wanting to destroy the thin thread of a bond that they formed today.

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igiveyoumyblood · 2 years

Text

The lighting in the MV is very interesting. Obviously we have the classic light vs shadow - all of the boys are actually in light here, which is interesting. The only ones shown in shadow (really) are Heeseung and Jake, and only a tiny bit. This is probably because they’re our protagonists - they aren’t supposed to be seen as evil. Additionally, they are LITERALLY in the light, as idols on a well-lit stage.

But there are also these small sections of neon lighting - used in headshots of the members. There is one at the start, a shot of Heeseung in the middle, and a section at the end of the MV. I am unsure of exactly what the colours mean, but they are certainly worth pointing out, especially as they are given importance in the MV.

There seem to be categories of colours - warm and cold, and then the colours (green, blue, purple, red, and a tiny bit of yellow/orange).

I don’t know if these colours were picked because they are nice neon colours, or if they were picked for their symbolism, but here is a list of symbolism (specific to Korea) to consider anyway;

Green: fresh start, youth, and energy. Is often used as a lucky colour to draw success.

Blue: freedom, intelligence, intuition, large and open spaces. In the Korean flag, it is also used to represent femininity and passiveness, and is balanced by the stronger red.

Purple: Wealth, spiritual awareness, and physical and mental healing.

Red: Masculinity and passion. In the Korean flag, is used to represent masculinity and strength in contrast to the blue.

Orange/yellow: Yellow is a symbol of passion, joy, and happiness, the developing mind and an expanding of knowledge. Orange is also commonly used in education.

So, with those meanings, and with the idea in mind that these meanings may not apply to the characters, let’s review the lighting used.

Jungwon with blue and yellow, and Heeseung with green and red. We know Jungwon is the leader - intelligence and integrity, and Heeseung is the eldest and has a mentor role to younger members - strength and energy.

Sunoo is also in yellow and blue - he has a similar role in the story to Jungwon. Jake is in green and blue, sinister lighting which hides parts of his face. No idea what is going on there, other than that we know he’s quite smart.

Sunghoon is also in green and blue, but we see more of his face (for now). Metafictively, this (idol life) is a fresh start for him. Ni-ki is in red and green, the same as Heeseung. Not only does he mirror Heeseung’s position in the group (being the youngest and a dance leader), but ‘passionate’ is an understatement to describe him.

Jay is the only one with purple, paired with red. We know both that he is wealthy and passionate (probably in the story as well as real life). I’m unsure about the rest of it though (spiritual healing etc).

I will also take this time to note that Jay and Sunghoon have the exact same lighting for all appearances in the ‘neon’ sections of the MV. The second time he appears, though, Sunghoon covers the blue side of his face. The covering face gesture is an obvious one of many meanings - dishonesty, regret, pain, power, evil, and more, not to mention that Sunghoon does something similar in almost every ENHYPEN storyline content. But I am unsure whether the covering of the blue has meaning - is he trying to become stronger by removing all passivity?

Heeseung and Sunoo also maintain their lighting. Not sure what Sunoo is trying to communicate by holding/adjusting his collar. Heeseung reaching to the audience/camera is a motif in the MV, but last time he reached for us, and this time he’s telling us to stop? Whatever you say, buddy.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Lighting Part 2

#engene #enhypen #enhypen theories #dimension #dimension: answer #dimension: answer live #mv analysis #blessed-cursed

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jacks-jester · 4 years

Text

Silent Treatment

[Jerome Valeska x Reader]

Words: 1,675

Warnings: Murder, violence, attempted sexual harassment/assault

Requested: Yes / No

Request: “ Hello Beautiful Person! I'm your new follower. Requests are opened right? Not sure how violent or graphic asks can be so I just give it a shot ok? Can I get Jerome x reader in Arkham but no one knows why she's there cause she seems too innocent and totaly normal, but she's more dangerous then they think. After killing a guard in front of everyone for harrasing her, she confesses to being a serial killer but she only kills other killers? (I was watching Dexter) J has a crush on her from day one. “ - Anonymous

Summary: Jerome tries getting to know Arkhams newest victim, a young girl who seems too innocent to be stuck in a place like that. He is quickly proven wrong when her crimes come to light after attacking and killing a prison guard.

A/N~ Love Dexter, love this prompt. Thanks for the response, I hope you enjoy!

Arkham Asylum held the lowest of the low, that included the staff, inmates, and anyone else who dared venture into the shitty institution. Gotham held a lot of bad apples, most of which were comfortably tucked away inside of the padded walls of this penitentiary. Arkham Asylum was disgusting place, the city clearly not caring about the upkeep of the rotting building. The state of the building was laughable, mold growing in every shadow and crevice, rats and cockroaches littering the halls, half the food was rotting in the cafeteria, the guards had no repercussions or supervision, the walls were literally crumbling, and most locks were broken or malfunctioning. The only thing they made sure of, was that guards were armed at all times, assuring brutality between patients and guards, because lets be honest, who would care if an insane inmate of Arkham Asylum was found dead. It was easy for stories to be twisted where guards were the victims of the whole operations, the mentally ill always being the villains.

Arkham’s inmates mostly consisted of men, all ages, all sizes, all different types of fucked up. Arkham accepted anyone deemed a danger to them selves of society so Arkham became a big mixing pot of problems.Serial killers next to muggers, cannibals next to rapists, even some innocents mixed in with the bunch. The few innocents in Arkham never lasted long though, either being killed or becoming corrupted themselves. See that was the thing about Arkham, nobody got better by going there, if anything it reaffirmed their anger and resentment towards the corrupt city and its inhabitants.

Arkham was it’s own special breed of poison for the mentally ill.

───※ ·❆· ※───

You were fairly new to Arkham Asylum, only having been there a week so far. It was no surprise that several of the more lonely inmates had taken to trying to flirt with you,claim you as their property, you didn’t take the bait though. You opted to follow the same route as some of the other female inmates: stay the fuck away from any other inmate in this god forsaken hell hole. You weren’t crazy, you knew that, nobody else here did though. To guards an inmate was an inmate, all the other prisoners having the same mindset as the guards. To everyone in here, you were just another loony who got caught and locked away.

The only thing that seemed to catch people off guard, was your quiet and respectful nature. You never got in fights, never had a melt down, and always were compliant with the prison rules. Most people were the most defensive their first week here, you were the exact opposite of the usual response to being locked up. This had peaked the interest of a particular red headed carnie who had just been locked up himself. Jerome was a curious person by nature, a quick learner, and a very big people person - granted he despised most people though.

Your demeanor drew him in from the start, your physical attractiveness also helping though. Jerome had attempted to talk to you several times, each time being completely ignored or dismissed at the wave of a hand. You always had a book on hand, opting to sit in the far corner of the leisure room and read to yourself while the other inmates played amongst themselves. You were never one to snap easily at people, having learned to bite your tongue to avoid conflict.

Jerome still persisted though, every day opting to sit near you and talk to you, though her never got a response. You’d think a person like Jerome would get worn out and tired of the routine, but if anything he saw it as a game. He wanted to be the first person to get you to talk, he wanted to break your quiet, it helped that he had a bet going with Greenwood though. Greenwood said Jerome would never be able to crack the quiet girl, Jerome begged to differ, and Jerome was never wrong.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It was another day at the Asylum: same shit food, same worn out clothes, same awful staff members, same boring routine. You made your way towards the leisure area, relieved to get a break from your cell. The asylum ran in shifts: high security offenders had the third break of the day - the break you were taking now. You were growing tired of the sorry excuse of a bed the penitentiary gave you, a metal sheet, a blanket, and a flat pillow. It was impossible to get a good nights sleep on those cots, leaving you in an annoyed state for the day. You had gotten no sleep last night, between uncomfortable sleeping conditions and the loud screaming of one of the patients down the hall, it was impossible.

You finally made your way to the checking station, guards typically frisking down patients to ensure that they do not have any weapons on hand. More than once had you seen patients try bringing in pens, wires, sometimes even getting their hands on shards of glass. You approached the guard station, holding your arms out in a T position and separating you legs slightly so they could ensure nothing was tucked in your pants. You had refused to wear the Arkham dresses, not wanting to deal with peoples stares, specifically Greenwood and Sionis.

It didn’t take long for the newbie guard to begin frisking you, his hands gently patting you down to ensure there were no potentially dangerous items on your person. You watched him closely as you felt his pats becoming more prolonged, seemingly taking his time - most guards barely graze an inmate before allowing them in, this new guard seemed to be getting to familiar for comfort. You tensed slightly as he began running his hand up your leg. “Watch it.” You said it with a venomous tone, warning lacing your voice.

The guard only looked at you with a narcissistic smirk, “Mind your manners, you gonna do something about it?” You could feel the rage boiling over in your stomach, “Last chance, knock it off.” You snapped the moment you felt his callous hand brush over you ass, his finger groping lightly, “Try something, I dare you.” You closed your eyes and sighed, “I warned you.” Without another word you brought your elbow, crushing into his face, immediately snapping his nose. Almost instantly blood began gushing from his pig like nose, misshapen and red. He clutched over, his hands both going to his nose as blood freely poured from the new injury. “You fucking bitch!”

You watched as his hand went to grab his gun, the pistol hanging loosely off his left hip. His movements were clumsy however, his hands slipping anxiously off the pistol, you figured it was the shock of having his nose caved in, a headache more than likely forming. Your eyes widened as he went to reach for the gun, your instincts quickly taking over your rational thoughts. Your leg quickly slung over his arched back, getting in a piggy back position as your hands found the curvature of his neck, your hands quickly twisting in the most unpleasant way.

His body instantly slumped beneath you, falling ungracefully to the floor with a sickening thump, your legs catching you before he could pull you down with him. His head was jarred at a strange angle, his jaw slack, eyes wide with shock, hand resting against his holstered gun. Your eyes widened as you came to grips with what had just occurred, you’d broken your code, well kind of. You didn’t consider yourself a criminal, you simply took out the garbage, only killing criminal who were walking free. So in a way he did fit into your normal range of crime, he was obviously someone who delved in sexual assault and harassment so you didn’t feel guilty about it.

You only turned around upon hearing a low whistle from behind, a whistle you knew all to well. You swore under your breath before turning to face Jerome who took to slowly clapping his hands together, as if to show his gratitude for the act just displayed in front of him. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” He let out a laugh, kneeling next to the fallen guard, quirking his head to make ye contact with the security guards wide eyes. “Did quite a number on him, didn’t cha?” You rolled your eyes, your gaze flicking to the corpse. “Fucker got what was coming to him.” Your voice was quiet but loud enough for Jerome to hear.

He turned to you with feigned shock, his jaw open as he looked at you with wide eyes. He placed his hand over his chest as his mouth formed a wide grin, “I’m honored doll, finally got you to break after a week.” You rolled your eyes at the excited red head, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement, though there was a small hint of genuine surprise within his ebony pools. He circled you for a moment, “Maybe you’re not as boring as I thought you were, not so innocent.” You raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know a single thing about me.”

He only nodded with that same impish grin, “Not yet.... not yet.” He reached down, grabbing the keys from the guards body, opening the leisure room door for you. “After you, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” You looked at him for a moment before sighing, going with him for one reason or another. Death wasn’t uncommon at a place like this so after everyone was securely in the leisure room, the guards body was eventually dragged away and to be disposed of. You and Jerome had taken to sitting in a far corner of the room, a game of Candyland splayed between you two. He made his move before resting his cheek on his fist, peering over at you. “This is gunna be fun.Now then, I want to know everything.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

Time: 2 hours 38 minutes (Mania made it incredibly hard to focus, I kept getting stuck)

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #gotham one shot #gotham #joker x reader #the joker x reader #cameron monaghan

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an-annyeoing-writer · 4 years

Text

Chanyeøl x Reader: homini lupus.

Word count: ~3,2 k

Genre: dark, supernatural

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and injury

I’m actually thinking of writing this for some other members. There are some minor events that weren’t explained and I’d like to refer to them in other fics. We’ll see!

Homo homini lupus est.

You didn’t know how long you spent in the same position. Your back ached, you were cold, and the migraine wouldn’t leave you in the last few hours at least, ever since you lost the remaining willingness to move. You tried to walk around the small space at least once in a while to keep your body warmer, and yourself – saner. But it didn’t work, and you felt hungry, thirsty, and exhausted.

The space was small, but you knew it wasn’t meant to be a prison; more like a pantry, considering shelves along the walls, although empty.

Sometimes, you heard noises. People walked right behind the locked door, ignoring that you sat there in complete darkness, starving, unable to cry for help any longer. You wished someone would come here just to keep you company, or at least tell you what was going on. But no one did – you were kept here like an animal hunted down, caught and then kept alive until it’d be needed dead. Although it’d at least be given water and food to stay healthy until its time came, and you didn’t have even that much.

You thought you’d pass out when the doorknob moved slightly; you couldn’t see it, but you heard the faint noise and your face snapped up.

“Let me out” you whispered; your throat was dry, your voice hoarse, as if it didn’t belong to you at all. But you stumbled to your feet, pushing forward and falling against the door next moment, slamming your weak fists against the wood even as the noises on the other side dulled out. You cried out incoherently.

And suddenly, something slammed against the door from the other side, making you jump back. You shook, barely standing on your own feet, as the lock was removed on the other side and the door opened, letting in light that blinded you in an instant.

“Why can’t you just keep quiet?” the voice spoke even before you saw the man in front of you clearly.

“I-I heard a sound…” you whimpered.

“I just tripped, don’t think too much. God, can’t you even be quiet for a second?” You kept quiet, though; you waited for your eyes to adjust, and finally, you made out the silhouette in front of you, a man with one hand still on the doorknob and the other holding onto his side. You didn’t see the exact colors yet, but there was a darker stain on the side of his face, one you confused with a shadow at first, but as you soon realized, wasn’t one.

“Are you hurt?” you whispered.

He snorted.

“Still stronger than you, no doubt. Stay where you fucking are.”

“I-I can help” you offered.

“I don’t think so, you can barely stand.” He moved to close the door back and, almost instantly, let out a groan, leaning against the door frame for support. You didn’t hesitate before reaching to him; anything to get out of here, no matter how dangerous the world outside could be with him around.

His immediate reaction was to push you away and you landed on the cold ground, miraculously not letting out a pained sound.

He stared at you for a short moment, as if rethinking his previous statement.

“Follow me. Don’t slack off. If you can stand up, that is.”

You didn’t know if you could. But the will to get out of this small space turned out way stronger than all the aches and fear gathered in your fragile body. So you ran after him, trying to remember at least some of the passing surroundings, but in the end, able only to walk behind the man who captured you, hoping that he won’t pass out in the middle of the hall – mainly because if anyone was to find you two like this, your explanations would be quite unreliable without his testimony.

Although maybe, just maybe, it’d give you a chance to escape?

Probably only if no one else was in the house; you wondered how big the building was, but it seemed cozy, closer to a summer house than a mansion, so it shouldn’t be too big. You didn’t change the floor, but you saw some stairs in the distance. You moved into a cozy bedroom and the man motioned you to wait in the middle, walking to the door in the corner, which, as you saw from your perspective, was a bathroom. He came back soon with a small box – first aid kit.

He threw the box at you, and you barely managed to grab it; at least these few minutes of stretching your bones helped a little with your migraine, and you didn’t feel as dead as before. In fact, literally the opposite – you felt a rush of adrenaline that urged you to move as the man sat on his bed and exhaled heavily. You looked at him more closely. Although he was holding his side earlier, there was no visible injures there. Maybe some bruises under the jacket, you thought.

The only one was on his face. Blood poured from under his closed eyelid, and it was a scary sight. There was a cut over the bridge of his nose too, but it didn’t look half as threatening.

The man looked at you with his one, dark eye.

“What happened to you?” you asked. He must have calmed down by now, because he didn’t yell anymore, his posture didn’t look half as intimidating as before. He didn’t say a word as you moved a chair to sit next to the bed and open the first aid kit. You didn’t know, what to do. Shouldn’t he wash his face first?

“I was robbed” he announced.

“What kind of robbery leaves wounds like this?” you huffed.

“It wasn’t a robbery. I was stolen from” he clarified, although, in fact, it didn’t clarify much.

“What do you mean? What did they take?”

“Can’t you tell?” His one eye bored into you as the two of you stared at each other for a few moments.

“Oh.” Who’d do something like this… And what for?

The man seemed amused.

“They’d gladly take you, too, if they knew you’re here.”

“Who?”

You completely forgot about what you were here for, simply listening to him, first aid kit left on the mattress.

“People who don’t like what we are.” This reply didn’t explain much. The man huffed. “You don’t need to know the details.”

“You just said they’re after me, too. Who are they? I need to know more.” You were focused on getting the information out of him. It was not an easy task, you had a feeling you were unlucky enough to meet the stubborn one.

“It’s none of your business.”

You huffed with annoyance, picking up a bandage roll from the box and throwing it at him. You stood up and started pacing around the room. As if your head wasn’t already overwhelmed, you had even more questions than before. Nothing had been cleared out, nothing at all.

“Then why do you keep me here? It sounds like you couldn’t care less about my well-being, then why bother?”

“Don’t be mistaken” the man spoke louder. “I couldn’t care less about you, but I don’t want them getting any stronger. I won’t let them put their hands on you until they’re all dead.”

“How many is all, then?”

“Seven” he answered without hesitation. “Six of which I’m going to kill.”

“And the one?”

“If I kill him, I die, too.” The grin on his face made it clear that he was sincerely amused with making you even more confused than you already were.

“I don’t understand” you admitted.

“You don’t need to. Just stay where you are, could you?” he shrugged. From the box, he took out some pills and took two, but it didn’t seem like he’d do anything about his eye.

“What about your…?” you hesitated, briefly pointing at his head.

He shrugged.

“I’ll get a new one, no big deal.”

Just who was he? You had way too many questions. Your fear dissolved a little, especially after finding out he was not as hostile as he seemed at first; interest appeared instead.

He looked up at you with his one eye and scrunched his nose.

“You’re useless here. Go back to the pantry.”

You glanced at him, not too happy with the perspective.

“Can I use the bathroom at least?”

He shrugged.

“Do what you want. You’ll die if you try to get out, so in your own favor, don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re two hundreds miles from the nearest town, and it’s the middle of winter. We’re not gonna kill you, but it doesn’t mean we’re gonna care if you die. If you go, you’ll freeze to death or starve before they find you. So we won’t care.”

“That’s cruel.”

“Maybe. But we have enough of our own problems to worry about.”

“Can I get food?”

“Do what you want.”

So you did. Maybe it’d earn you a bit more chance to get information out of others who were here. Or maybe it’d just make it a bit more bearable, if you could live normally at least.

You came to a conclusion that there’s nothing more humanizing than a warm shower.

* * *

You slept on the sofa in the living room of the house. It was a spacious building, as you discovered. A few rooms were locked and no one ever entered them – one of the men shared that they belonged to those who passed away. It scared you to realize that death was not something uncommon to them, but you didn’t dare to ask more questions; these rooms were unavailable to you either way, so you stayed in the living room, a place the inhabitants came to only on those rare evenings when all of them were here. Usually, only one or two were in the house to begin with and they busied themselves in their own rooms. There was six of them. And the one who stayed at home the most was Chanyeøl, with his head wrapped in bandages; he didn’t recover yet so he didn’t go out much. You wondered where they all went in the first place – if it was true and the closest town was hundreds of miles away, where were they going all the time?

Once, it became quite obvious. Sehůn came back home with a dead deer over his shoulder; the animal had no wounds so you worried, what if it was poisoned? Would it be safe to eat it? But the others didn’t question it, just prepared it, and that was the first time in a while you ate something warm and fresh. They didn’t really care that you took some, nor that you sat among them while eating. They never paid you much attention at all, but you didn’t mind – it allowed you to see them at ease, not so scary anymore, just a group of people, maybe not friends, but surely not enemies either, more of associates, living under the same roof.

You saw them come back home tired and dirty, you saw them laugh at stupid jokes while looking as if they just took a bloodbath, you saw them complain about injures that were simply “annoying”, never “life-threatening” or even “dangerous”.

And one day, you saw Baëkhyun sit next to Chanyeøl and gently take the bandage off his head.

“It looks good” he spoke. “Creepy as hell, though.”

“You should have gotten me a better one. Seriously.”

“I thought this one would suit you more. We can dig out the other one and exchange so that they match.” The sentence was probably the creepiest thing you’ve ever heard, but the man’s smile made it clear he was simply joking, in his own, twisted way that Chanyeøl seemed to reciprocate, because his lips curled into a grin too.

They heard you shuffle in the door’s entry and both turned their heads towards you.

Chanyeøl’s bright blue eye stared at you with more intensity than the other, dark one you already knew.

Baëkhyun was right. It was creepy as hell.

* * *

“Aren’t you getting too comfortable?”

Chanyeøl sat by the kitchen table, elbow on the glass surface and chin resting on his palm; he seemed bored, so he watched you do the dishes after dinner.

“What do you mean?” you asked, not even glancing back at him.

“I could put you back in the pantry at any time and none of the guys would stand up for you. I could even kill you and they wouldn’t care. Why do you do this, then?”

“Do what?” You didn’t seem too bothered with his words. You started to get used to his threats.

“Act like you live here.”

“Do I not?”

“You’re a hostage.”

“Thanks for letting me know” you replied sarcastically.

You made barely one step before his hand was on your neck, pushing your face against the fridge. His grip was firm, but you didn’t dare to struggle, trying to ignore the way your entrails twisted in fear. You were starting to get used to it, you just needed more time. That’s what you told yourself. He wouldn’t kill you – you repeated it in your thoughts. He wouldn’t kill you, he doesn’t hate you. You’re useful, somehow.

“You seriously think that it’ll change anything?” He leaned down and let his voice turn quieter – the words he was about to speak were not for anyone else to hear. “There’s seven of them. If I kill the one, I die too. What, do you think, will happen, if I kill the others?”

The words started to sink in. All the domesticity and familiarity suddenly turned poisonous. Not even associates, you thought. Just means to reach his own goal. Did the others know? Should you warn them? Or were they all thinking the same way, working together only for now? Was this how the others passed away? Were they also not useful enough for their life to be more valuable than the death of those who were against them?

“B-but there’s only six of you” you noticed. Your voice quivered.

You felt his breath on your neck, his grip didn’t loosen.

“Do you want to know who’s the seventh? Do you, really?”

Your body shook in fear, and you realized that you should have started fearing him much sooner than you allowed yourself to.

A smirk.

A push, forcing you onto your knees.

And then, silence. He was gone.

You had to get out of here.

* * *

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Chën stared at you, amused. It was early spring already, the temperature wasn’t that bad. You picked up the warmest clothes you found, took food and everything else you considered useful. Chën stood in the door’s entry as you walked into the yard; he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, not wearing anything special, yet not looking half as cold as you already were upon feeling the weather for the first time in ages.

“Chanyeøl said I can go if I want.”

“You’ll die.”

“Or survive.”

“Doubtful.”

“Worth the risk.”

“Is it?”

“I will either live or survive. If I stay here, I will only die.”

“Better later than sooner, though” he shrugged.

But you didn’t feel convinced. You made your mind, you knew anything would be better than staying here. You didn’t ask for any of this. Were “the others” really even worse than what you had here? You doubted. Especially now, knowing what was their purpose.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” The angry voice startled you, it was the first thing that made you hesitate, but it’s not like you had much time to reconsider.

A hand wrapped around your hair, pulling you backwards and you landed on the snow with a shriek, the bag falling off your shoulder.

Chanyeøl stood over you, his face twisted in anger.

“You think that’s funny?” he spat at you; you didn’t think it was, but Chën’s laughter resonated in the distance.

“Y-you said…”

“Get the fuck up.”

He seemingly resisted the urge to kick your side to hurry you as you scrambled to your feet, head low in fear.

Chanyeøl stared at you coldly.

“Get back inside. Now!” he growled.

You passed by him without a word. Your body shook in fear and cold; maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to leave, after all? Just how far you’d make it anyway? You were so weak.

Suddenly, a small, weird sound resonated right behind your back, followed by a groan. You turned around rapidly.

There was an arrow in Chanyeøl’s shoulder, all the way through, its sharp head glistening with red, sticking out of his back.

The man stumbled backwards and you jumped away in fear before tearing your gaze away to look in the direction the arrow must have come from.

There was a man holding a bow in his hand. You knew his face. You’ve meet him before.

But you didn’t. It wasn’t the same person, the look in his eyes was not the mocking glimmer you’ve seen in Sehůn’s. Who was he?

Who were the other five men gathered around?

Two dark eyes of Chanyeøl’s nemesis stared at him coldly, and Chanyeøl glared back with hate you’ve never seen in anyone else before.

“Move away from her” the other Suhø spoke.

Chanyeøl snorted, pushing himself off the ground. Before you could react, his arm wrapped around your neck as he pulled your body against his chest, a human shield. The arrow in his shoulder didn’t seem to bother him half as much as it bothered you.

“Or what?” he dared.

Someone pushed through the crowd of men; a smaller silhouette that stood behind them until now, with her arms crossed on her chest and an unreadable look on her face.

Yøu.

Your breath hitched at you stared at hër in complete shock. Shë stared back, also curious, maybe not that confused, seemingly knowing what awaited hër here, but also surprised – it’s not really a situation one can prepare for too well. You couldn’t help comparing herself to hër. Shë seemed prepared, with hër hair not as messy as yours that weren’t treated with a haircut in ages, lipstick on hër lips, a color that suited hër so well, which should suit you too, even though you’ve never considered it before.

You didn’t have too long to think about it.

Chanyeøl pushed you forward, as if instantly giving up your own self; as if, in fact, you didn’t matter to begin with. Just means to his own success, as you realized. What did it matter? He wanted to kill both of you, anyway. Why did he want hër here so much?

The both of you passed by each other, still too shocked to exchange even a word of greeting.

You couldn’t see anything, your eyes wouldn’t focus enough to keep you aware of where were you going. You thought you’re gonna stumble and fall, but a pair of hands was suddenly on your shoulders, grounding you, a motion so gentle and protective you couldn’t help the tears gathering in your eyes. You missed it. You missed the warmth.

The other Chanyeøl studied your face intently.

“Are you alright?” he asked and you forced yourself to nod slightly, although your legs felt like a jelly. He pursed his lips. “You can rest. You’re with us now. You’re safe.”

Please, reblog if you enjoyed! It’s not much, but it’d help me a lot!

#exo chanyeol #exo obsession #park chanyeol #x-exo #x-exo chanyeol #Chanyeøl #chanyeol x reader #exo fanfiction #exo x reader #chanyeol park #vg: chanyeol #vg: exo #vg: fanfiction

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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A Shadow of What You Used to Be (1)

Chapter 1: A Child Can Dream | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: I AM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! Our house is clean, power and wifi is back on, and we’re slowly getting back on our feet now! ❤ It was a tough 2 weeks, but we survived. My neighborhood is getting back on its own feet as well. We just need more time in flushing out whatever trace of the flood remains. Thank you so much to @glxy-otter and @someoneovertherainboww for sending me lots of love & support! It really made me smile 💜🥺

Also in AO3

Previous: Prelude | Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The garage was filled with the same perpetual noise. For a seven-year-old, this is no suitable place for a child—but this is the normal she grew up in.

“Hurry up with that chassis!” barked a male Twi’lek with orange skin in Huttese.

The girl answered, in the same dialect, “Can’t you see that this thing is twice my size, Pelug!?”

“You’re lucky you’re faster than those pit droids, otherwise, I would’ve put you in concessionaire duty!”

A pair of hazel eyes shot a piercing look at the humanoid, a scowl forming in her eyebrows.

The orange Twi’lek’s pair of lekku wagged along with his finger pointed at the girl, his threat didn’t scare her as much as he wanted to—though it’s common knowledge that concessionaire duty was the worst, one is essentially demoted if put there. But she thinks she’s proved herself highly unlikely of being in that position.

Not receiving help—not expecting to either—she hauled up the chassis on a crate while shooing the doddering pit droids. When the path was clear, the hatch had already been opened—thanks to those little ones—to screw in the part before the big race. The speakers crackled and echoed across the entire garage, reminding us that the participants have less than thirty minutes before the racers are required to bring their rides on the starting block.

“Irele,” Pelug called in Basic, but immediately went back to speaking Huttese. “You got tiny hands, hold this open for me while I close off the hydraulic seals.”

Irele obeyed. She had a few seconds of relaxing her fingers one seal after the other.

After the tech work, their contender—a male Togruta named Gelesh with uneven lekku—hopped onto his podracer. A few switches and clicks, the Brazen Bullet roared to life—lights flickered across the entire dashboard, the engines belched, and the turbines thrummed.

“Hey, if Sebulba fights dirty—”

“I’ll fight filthier!” he cuts Irele off laughing, but she let it pass. The exchange was somewhat tradition for both of them.

The speakers in the garage crackled again, startling many who are inside, and the croaky announcer prompted the racers to prepare at the starting block; in less than a second, a second translates everything to Huttese. The announcer was the two-headed sentient of species she still doesn’t know the name of.

Gelesh’s entourage—including Irele—strolled out of the garage and made for the exit. The Tatooine sunlight abruptly blazed its rays over their heads, luckily, they were wearing headgear. Gelesh was confident although the nervousness was somehow getting to him, the girl can sort of sense it—along with a few more emotions that she didn’t want to point out to make it worse for him.

“Hey, Gel?”

“Yeah, Irele?”

“Relax.”

That took a load off of his chest, his lips stretched to a friendly grin, he pulled himself together first and then his goggles next. To each racer, they followed the instructions as the two-headed sentient said so. All the technicians began scrambling back to their pit stop when the mufflers have fired up. Little Irele went further into their pit stop, crawling through spaces that only she can enter; she then scaled a spire with makeshift handholds she herself installed until she could reach a ledge on the spire that apparently supported one of the spectator boxes.

The seven-year-old was small enough to seat herself on such a narrow edge; from there, she has as good as a view of the spectators in the towers and stands. If the crowd was already rowdy before the racers lined up on the block, the noise got wilder and louder that perhaps one can hear it all the way to Mos Pelgo. Each podracer had their characteristic noise for each action: ignition, acceleration, compressor activation, and what have you—Irele can identify the Brazen Bullet and its every sound with her eyes closed.

“Alright, racers, rev up those engines because we start in five…”

A collective of podracers engine noises rung and rumbled the circuit. Three seconds in, their ignition sent dust clouds flying over the heads of the poor people in the bottom row of the stands. The people in the bleachers joined the countdown, and so did Irele as she kept her eye on the single podracer whose body plates are forged with bronzium.

“ONE!!”

One by one, the vehicles zipped past—their noises abrupt like the firing of a blaster, the mufflers thunderous as they pulled the accelerators—some of the audience members had the hems of their clothes flying to the direction of the podracers, nonetheless arousing their secondhand adrenaline.

Irele’s little heart went with Brazen Bullet speeding right in the lead, the bronzium finish of the vehicle were fleeting specks of light over her glossy, hazel eyes. She scaled the spire some more until she could sneak a peek on one of the watchers’ tablets to see who’s in the lead and dead last. For everytime Gelesh completed the lap, Irele could almost feel her heels floating, as if she was the one driving the pod and feeling the exact velocity, the thrill, the sheer focus—driving one was a dream, though her mother forbade her, begged her even not to try it, but said so with a softness that compels Irele to obey, despite her desires.

Everyone had their eyes on the rising star, Gelesh, who was also leaving Sebulba in the dust. Hot on his heels, the Dug desperately cranked every possible lever his hind legs could grab on—in the hopes of catching up to the Togruta. The Dug, unwilling to accept defeat after the destruction of his streak by the victory of that one human boy years ago.

That boy was Anakin Skywalker.

Irele had heard stories of him: how he defeated the Dug despite all odds, and snagged the top place in the race, and how he was an underdog in everyone’s eyes. She wondered if they might have been friends somehow, given their mutual penchant for podracing albeit preferring different aspects.

“This is it, people! This is the last lap of the circuit—Gelesh Odibra and Sebulba are practically neck-and-neck! Who will cross the finish line first!? They’re all so close now!! It’s Gelesh!! No, it’s Sebulba!!”

The sentient argues with its Huttese-speaking head, looping what the Basic-speaking head kept saying in a continuous effort in riling up the crowd. Irele was literally on the edge of the tier when the Brazen Bullet and Sebulba’s podracer were within view. A twin-trail of sand, clouding the tail-ends of the podracers approach the starting line—with the third light blinking green, eager for the victor to zoom through it.

It was all such a blur. The crowd cheered, nonetheless, believing that their eyes didn’t deceive them and that they saw their contender stay ahead of the other by a hair. Not long after, a scuffle was developing when two differing spectators argued on whose champion went through the finish line first. Irele spotted it across from where she sat, but she didn’t watch the scuffle for long; she turned her attention to the announcer’s tower.

“Wow, did you see how close that was! Everything was such a blur I’m not even sure if I saw it right!”

The second head agreed, speaking in Huttese, in the same enthusiasm as the Basic-speaking one.

To finally calm the crowd, and settle it once and for all, the sentient clicks a pattern of buttons on their control panel to project a snapshot of the two racers at the finish line—determining who was closest to the line. Showing images from all angles, it’s clear that the Brazen Bullet’s nose was basically under the sensors of the light—thus triggering all three lights to indicate that a racer has completed the circuit.

“I don’t believe it! This is Gelesh’s third win in the streak—cementing his record just right above Sebulba’s!”

By the hum of a gong echoing across the circuit, a large portion of the crowd jumped and roared in a united cheer—ribbons and petals of sorts flew in congratulation, showering the youthful Togruta in his victory. He hopped out of his podracer, his entourage comes sprinting out of their pit stop with Irele at the tail just getting down from her perch.

“GELESH, YOU DID IT!” squealed the girl, sprinting and shouldering her way to his view.

A host hands over a trophy to Gelesh who then let Irele—perched on his broad shoulder—hold the other side of the trophy. People have gotten out of their seats to surround the defending champion. They chanted his name, the rest of the spectators showered him with flowers, petals, and ribbons.

Every victory was wonderful for Irele. Perhaps, it equaled to the exact same thrill as driving her own podrace. This went on for two more years, and in those next years, they enjoyed the sport—win or lose.

–

24 BBY

It seemed that the garage manager was feeling gracious today. The Rodian boss let Irele go home earlier than her normal shift, in which the girl celebrated with a grin whose ends pierced her plump cheeks, a squeaking cheer as she scrambles to put away her things, and a sprint that sent the dust floating behind her heels.

Irele didn’t head home right away, she went the other direction—towards the junkshop where her mother worked, employed by the blue, pungent Toydarian, Watto. The chimes rang as she burst through the door, startling the creature—who hoped it was a customer, but much to his chagrin, it was only the girl, and so he returns to his chair with a groan.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Over there,” Watto lazily pointed and croaked with his native accent running thick in his voice.

“Mommy?”

Shmi paused at the workbench to meet her daughter, “Irele? You’re out early.”

Irele threw herself into Shmi’s arms, embracing her as tight as her scrawny arms can, “Yeah, Selek let me out early today. Good thing he did!”

Her mother simply smiled, perhaps too overwhelmed by her daughter’s energy.

“You didn’t forget, did you?”

That somehow jolted Shmi enough for her realize that she had caught herself spacing out. She shook her head and mouthed the word “no,” she saw the concerned expression in Irele’s face and took her daughter by the shoulders.

“No, darling, I didn’t forget,” she pursed a sweet smile and tapped the tip of Irele’s nose with her forefinger. “How could I forget my promise to you?”

Irele’s eyes lit up, the sihght of it delighted her mother. Shmi then finished up whatever work she’s been busying herself with before getting off of work. Mother and child strolled out of the junkshop, Irele trottd off happily while keeping her hand clasped in Shmi’s—who was walking in her normal pace, with a few occasional tugs from the child because of her prancing.

By the time they got home, Irele impatiently put her things away in her room, got washed, and eagerly waited for Shmi to join her in the kitchen. The promise was that they were going to cook something together—a house favorite of Irele: Shmi’s own, delicious recipe. They had saved enough from their wages separately, and in total, they had enough to buy ingredient for a hearty, full supper consisting of meat, a medley of mushrooms and vegetables, and fruits and pallies for dessert.

They could only do this once for their individual pay was rather low.

All of this is a celebration of Irele turning eight.

A simple celebration with fulfilling food on the table, with no one else but her mother and herself, in the coziness of their cottage—to Irele, it was wonderful. And perfect.

It was everything she could ever ask for.

–

Months after their promised celebration, Irele had been seeing a man with sandy brown hair and a scraggly stubble. Maybe once or twice, she saw him clean-shaven. She always saw him frequenting Watto’s shop, either to buy or play Sabacc—but oftentimes, the latter in which Watto had a questionable win record. One should not be surprised if the blue Toydarian won through his swindler’s methods.

This man was Cliegg Lars.

Apparently, Shmi had caught the eye of Cliegg, as he frequented the junkshop in search of parts mostly for speeders and other machines he uses. Despite being a child, Lars’s feelings did not escape the insightful Irele; in her opinion, he’d been coming over to the shop a little too often for someone who kept fixing speeders. Although, she cannot be certain if his motives are true; it’s still a lead nonetheless. Even she had drawn attention to herself from the man, shying away from his gruff yet friendly hello’s, and then curiously watching him deal with Watto whilst hiding behind walls.

It wasn’t long until Cliegg began to fall for Shmi, rooting from their day-to-day interactions with one another whenever he would stop by. He pretended that he doesn’t feel Irele tailing them, but he didn’t let that bother him—she’s a child after all, he thought.

Shmi presently being a mother with a daughter in tow didn’t trouble Cliegg. A man of ethics—a rare trait in this lawless ball of sand—he could not imagine buying off Shmi from Watto, but then leaving the child to the Toydarian. Fortunately for Lars, it was evident that Watto’s gambling—with a not-so-impressive track record to boot—had gradually collapsed his business. Little by little, Watto’s wares had either been disposed of or been sold to the lowest possible price in the hopes of keeping the business up. When there was nothing else to profit from, Watto would be forced to sell his remaining property—the mother and child slaves. Cliegg took it from there.

From a certain point of view, his proposition of buying Shmi and Irele intrigued the Toydarian.

“How much you gunna pay fo meh two slaves, eh?” rasped Watto, irreparably pronouncing “slaves” as slehvz in his thick, native Toydarian accent.

“I can pay you twenty thousand each,” Cliegg bobbed his head for the dramatics, pretending to be pensive. “I’ll pawn off my X-class landspeeder to pay them.”

A single holodisk produced a projection of the item in question. The speeder—brand new and in its prime, only seven months old—was an interesting wager in and of itself. The rusty-reddish paint job would stand out in the desert, whether up close or in the horizon, sunlight would bounce off on the sheen of the thrusters’ metallic sections. Truly a shiny new toy.

Cliegg could have sworn he heard the clinking of credits when Watto’s eyes lit up with greedy intrigue.

Good, that’s gotten his attention. Thought the man.

Watto hovered himself closer to the projection, his flimsy wings struggled to carry his weight as they flapped erratically, and rubbed his fleshy chin at the same time. To the flying sentient, it wasn’t a bad deal, at least for Lars’s expense in his mind—the ratio of the trade somewhat balances out: Lars wants two things from him, thus he wagers something in the same worth.

“You must think me a fool, Watto,” Cliegg noted the perhaps long silence of Watto examining the images. “To pay you the price of a single landspeeder for two slaves.”

The Toydarian chuckled, then gestured defensively, “No, no. I don’t that, Lars, meh friend. In fact, this is quite an int’resting investment.” His emphasis on the word “investment” made him enunciate the S into a harsh, buzzing Z.

Perhaps, it is in the nature of every Toydarian to call anything an investment—even a gamble on a card game. There aren’t many of Watto’s kind here in Tatooine, but that is the only impression Cliegg can pick up from Watto for his opinion on the species. Not having any of the suspense, the man tried to broke the deal until they can shake on it. Watto came so far as making an event out of it, but Lars insisted to refrain from the grandeur, to which his beneficiary gave in.

They finally shook on it. The two males were clueless that Irele had been eavesdropping on their exchange. It was a bad habit that Shmi had gently reprimanded her of, but just this once, she had never been invested in someone else’s conversation—only because the subject was their freedom at stake, and it was this stranger who dared to go through this length of settling an agreement with their current slaver. Irele’s mind was in a whirl—would he be a kinder slaver than Watto? More generous or more cruel? With their conversation going on what felt like hours, she had resorted to sitting on the floor, her back against the wall as she listened in on their voices.

The girl heard the door chimes followed by the silence, then she scrambled to her feet when she heard the flapping of Watto’s wings grow louder and disappeared as quietly as she could.

Two days later after that agreement had been set in stone, today’s the fateful day: Shmi finds out only now that she and Irele had been sold to Cliegg Lars. When Watto announced that he’s sold them together to this man, understandably, the woman was taken aback from her lack of prior knowledge, and she had every right to be surprised. Her daughter, on the other hand, feigned it—her false silence fit in with the mood of the room.

Shmi and Irele Skywalker watched the pouch of credits transfer from Cliegg’s hand to Watto’s, signifying that they now belong to Cliegg Lars.

“Take them,” Watto says, although somberly. He hovers in place as he watches Shmi and Irele join Cliegg out of the shop.

“I wish you good luck on your business, Watto,” Lars bade, however, it felt backhanded.

At the entrance of the junkshop awaited a pair of eopies—tall, quadrupedal animals that served as mounts for people and carriers of cargo—handled by a Jawa that Cliegg hired for a few hours.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t give you two a more comfortable ride to your new home,” there was a sincerity in Lars’s voice, warm and genuine, something that Shmi nor Irele had not heard for a long time.

“It’s fine,” Shmi stuttered while trying to be polite. “I’m more used with the mount than speeders.”

“Ah, well, where you’re living—you’ll get used to it, but I’ll let you do it in your own pace.”

With a simple waving gesture from Cliegg, the Jawa hauled the animal pair then coaxed both to go down on their knees—level enough so the humans can hop on their backs. Each eopie grunted when they felt more weight on themselves; Shmi and Irele shared one saddle, Lars took the lead from town to their new home.

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lavendertwilight89 · 4 years

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Evergreen

IT’S HERE! IT’S DONE! THANK THE GODS!!!!!

This was something I originally just did a drabble on and then... well... ended up as an out of control monstersity of 26 freakin’ pages. It’s based off this original post and artwork by @heavenin--hell

Thank you to @superpixie42 and @sapphirestarxx as always for reading my dumpster work

@dangerouspompadour this will be the universe your b-day gift takes place in

@dangerouspompadour @lemonlushff @willowandfog @cstormsinukagblog @keichanz @littlestuffstohide @clearwillow @ruddcatha @hnnwnchstr @smmahamazing @wolverine1092 @inuyashaloverforever @xfangheartx @umacaking @bluejay785 @murdergiraffe @faulkner-blog

ALSO POSTED HERE ON MY AO3

ENJOYYYYYYYYYYYY

“What an arrogant, selfish, son of a–UGH! Like he has any right to say ANYTHING!!!!” Kagome seethed.

“Miss Kagome, the master means well,” Myouga tried to soothe the young woman about Inuyasha’s attitude towards her attire.

“You mean ‘means well’ as him being a crazy, overprotective, wordy, arrogant, prick?!”

“Miss Kagome, how much do you truly know about demons?” Myouga asked.

“Well as much as my research has told me, which unfortunately isn’t a lot compared to what I’ve learned just by being with Inuyasha for the past couple weeks. I mean, I just learned demons are actually in hiding when we had believed them to be instinct! It’s incredible! My actual professor is a demon!”

“Well, allow me to–ahem–share some things with you about inu-youkai in particular.”

“‘Dog demons’?”

“Preciously. That is the lineage of which my master Inuyasha is derived from.”

“Well I knew that from the way he snarls, growls, and basically barks,” she added rolling her eyes laughing at her own joke.

“Inu-youkai make perfect Guardians because they typically… find one person they wish to protect, and they latch on. They become overly protective of their uhm… ‘Chosens’, if you will. When Inu-youkai bred, their sons or daughters were often picked to become Guardians because their heritage made them perfect protectors. If they trained hard enough, they would be granted a member of the royal lineage to protect. There, of course, were other demons who also became Guardians such as ookami and kitsune.”

“But wasn’t his Chosen killed five-hundred years ago? Didn’t she seal him away? The guy doesn’t even know why… And why would he suddenly be so assertive in protecting me from a guy I happen to work with? I’m obviously not his Chosen or whatever. There’s no reason for me to have a Guardian. He just mistook me for her when I accidentally woke him up. Why is he still insistent he, I don’t know, follow me around like a guard dog? You just said they latch on to their Chosens, so obviously he’s just being crazy!”

Myouga sighed. He knew the young girl knew and felt more than she was letting on. If anything, she was just trying to save her young heart… The master was stubborn and after everything that happened five-hundred years ago, he couldn’t blame him. But he also knew his master was foolish, and Kikyo was not his actual Chosen… He could only hope his master could come to terms with his instincts before the damage he caused the poor girl was irreversible.

Clearing his throat, he informed the young woman, “Youkai do not choose their Chosens; their Chosens are picked for them and I do not mean by the council. Just because they are given a royal member to protect, that did not make them their Chosen.”

“Wait, I’m confused–what–”

“Chosens are picked by a demon’s internal instincts, Miss Kagome. Once they have picked, they cannot let go.”

“I’m still confused; what does that have to do with me?”

“Sigh, you will learn soon, Miss Kagome. I am unfortunately not allowed to give any further information; I can only hope the master will be more forthcoming in time…” Myouga couldn’t give her anything else. Not until his master was ready. While the young miss was intelligent, he knew she had not caught the double meaning of the word Chosen. It had meant a mate, in the terms of youkai culture and for humans, a mortal a guard would protect. It was not Myouga’s place to tell the young woman that Kikyo had been his ward in a sense, but not his mate. His mate was Kagome and Kagome alone.

She thought quietly to herself on their walk to the museum to meet Hojo; she obviously had much more to learn from Inuyasha and she grew more determined in that moment that she would be pursuing that knowledge whether he chose to give it or not. It had been a couple weeks since she had awoken the half-demon. He was striking… handsome… daring… She bit her lip at the thoughts that his body stirred within her. It was embarrassing to be that attracted to someone she honestly didn’t know much about. But she also really admired him. Intellectually, he was a very fast learner. Stubborn. Quick to anger. Loyal. Ugh! He drove her crazy! What sucked was it sometimes was in a good way…

He had told her very little about his past. Bare minimum to be exact. She gathered from his experience of being sealed, he was very distrusting given that his last Chosen, Kikyo, claimed he betrayed her. She sealed him as punishment and when he awoke, she was gone—and Kagome was in her place. He mistook her for Kikyo because they looked so similar and he tried to just serve her, but she could tell how much he loathed it. It was rather annoying.

After things had been cleared up and he finally realized she wasn’t his master or whatever he thought she was, he seemed lost. Distant. Irritable. He didn’t want to divulge more and basically always looked at her out the side of his eyes in a… securable kind of way. Like he was studying her. Anytime she asked him what was wrong he would grunt and turn away. That in itself was maddening.

Honestly, she felt bad for the guy; obviously something happened between Kikyo and him… maybe he was more than just her Guardian maybe they were…in love. She was what he referred to as his Chosen.

But that was five-hundred years ago. Then again, to him it was a month ago. She resembled Kikyo, sure. Myouga even mistook her for the old priestess. That was probably half of the problem of why he couldn’t actually move on with his life. She was familiar to him but at the same time not. He made sure to rub her face in how unlike his former Chosen she was. Good. Fine. Whatever. She didn’t want to be like her anyway. She had been perfectly fine, living her life for the past twenty-three years without him anyway. She didn’t need to be reminded that she wasn’t… anybody else. She was Kagome; a student at the university, hand-picked by Totosai to explore the tombs to study the materials to prepare for her master’s thesis… She didn’t need to be anybody else for someone to fall in love with her.

Wait a—why did her thoughts go there?! They’d only known each other for a month! He hated her—yea sure, he protected her when those demons came alive at the museum, but he still felt it was his sworn duty to his master, Chosen, whatever Kikyo was to him. Sigh. She was pathetic. Maybe she should have just accepted Hojo’s proposal to be courted. She wasn’t getting any younger. She was too different from other women in this era anyway. The twenties were so...blah. She didn’t want to be a good little housewife. She preferred pants to dresses, research to makeup, and spoke her mind rather than kept quiet. Hojo might be what she needed to accept; but she definitely felt torn because now she knew what it was like to desire someone. To have some weird but magical pull towards someone she barely knew but couldn’t help wanting to learn everything about. But she knew that would never happen. He obviously had no desire other than to make her life and job a living hell. He… loved Kikyo. Kikyo was his Chosen. Not her. Not regular plain old boring Kagome. Just as Myouga said, ‘Chosens’ are picked by instinct. And his Chosen was gone.

What she didn’t realize as she was lost in her thoughts was someone lurking in the shadows behind her as she entered the museum to meet Hojo for the fundraiser. Someone who was not Inuyasha.

“What is wrong with that girl?” he asked himself, still sitting in the room where Kagome left him. Didn’t she realize by now he was supposed to protect her? Did their first run in at the museum teach her literally nothing?!

“Gods she’s just a–” he couldn’t finish that thought. The past couple of weeks had proven to him she was definitely not Kikyo. She was abrasive, vocal, assertive, annoying, stubborn, spoiled, quirky, kind, caring, beautiful–whooooaaaaaaaaa. And there went his thoughts again to a place he couldn’t go.

He exhaled in frustration. His instincts were all over the place. Five hundred years ago it was easier… Guardians were typically assigned a family to protect--specifically royal families or those who held important positions in the kingdom. Kikyo, the high priestess, and he were of similar age so he was placed with her. She required a full time Guardian due to her position in the palace. Her parents had been killed in one of the uprisings and she cared for her younger sister, Kaede. Kaede was still in training to become a priestess as well but lived in a different sector of the castle. He had grown to care immensely for the young woman. She was sworn to her duty. They were a fine match. Then all that crazy shit happened.

He felt betrayed. Hurt. But he was her Guardian. He was but a tool for her to use. While Guardians held their place by the ones they protected, sometimes more came out of it, other times they lived chaste lifestyles. Not every Guardian met their Chosen when they were assigned a family. He was but a half-demon. Not good enough for anyone or anything. He trained hard and proved himself in the trials to make his father proud since his brother had decided on a different way of life. The council had chosen him to become a Guardian because of all his hard work. It was almost unheard of that a half-demon made the selection. Not that half-demons were scarce. He, in fact, had been born because his father was placed with his own mother as a Guardian. But most had taken their places in the royal court with their families when that occurred—something Inuyasha didn’t want. He wanted a ‘simple’ life—to protect just like his father had.

He passed all the tests and made the cut—then he had been placed with Kikyo and it was a good match; they worked well together. But that’s when things almost fell apart. Things he refused to think about, too fresh, too painful, took place and before he knew it, he was sealed away because of his ‘treachery’. But it was who had betrayed him. Then in a blink, he awoke and mistook Kagome for Kikyo.

He learned quickly they were nothing alike and her scent–Gods–that woman’s scent. It did things to him… things like the other Guardians spoke of with their assigned families when they found their Chosen. Like what his father said about his mother. They had referred to the ones they were assigned to protect as their Chosens—whether they were to mate with them or live a companionable life with them. His father’s Chosen, his mother, turned out to be his mate. It had been such a scandal because he had already mated with his brother’s mother. But the other demons understood, humans did not.

His mother left the royal family to be with his father and they moved to live with the regular citizens. This had been one of the reasons he desired to take his place as Guardian—to prove his father had not dirtied their blood or soiled their name as the Taisho clan.

When he met Kikyo he had thought she was beautiful. Refined. Poised. He had only thought that after they had met, they would probably grow to fall in love like others said. His father explained it wasn’t like that though. Inuyasha equated the mis-hit due to this human half. But now, he knew. He knew exactly what his father meant all those years ago. He had literally been slapped in the face and had his instincts take hold and never want to let go of that beautiful scent that was Kagome. To always be with her—someone who he had now sworn to protect, not out of duty, but out of desire. To love, cherish, and mate with her… Fuck. His mind and heart were literally at war. It wasn’t fuckin’ right.

To top off his emotional and instinctual angst, his fuckin’ chosen is out now with another male. Hobo or whatever. Yea, she said it was to gather information. Yea, Myouga was with her. Didn’t mean she had to show that much skin. Even though that teal dress was beautiful, her bare back was so alluring, her hair pinned up, her neck calling his name to bite and suckle. Mark. Dammit. He guessed to be fair… he had been avoiding her. Ignoring her to the best of his abilities anyway. After the shit in the past, how could he allow himself to get close to someone else? To be that vulnerable? It may have been five-hundred years for everyone else, but it had only been maybe a month for him…

How could he even bring himself to open up such a sensitive topic? Let alone pour out his heart to a mortal who likely would look at him like he was crazy? Say, “Oh hey, I know you just learned demons are real and shit, but they also know their Chosens by scent and you’re it. You’re meant to be with me. Let’s go fuck.” Yea. Right. She’d probably push him back in the tomb and close the fucking door saying to hell with her research.

His eyes widened as he took in a scent of someone familiar, someone from his past, but someone he had also never met. He could sense a demon nearby. KAGOME!

He took off running down the street, forgoing his charm to change him into his human form. He needed his claws out and ready for whatever dumb bastard that thought they could attack his Chosen; they were gravely mistaken!

Son of a bitch! He froze at the entrance of the museum. He recognized this scent… It belonged to some other mortal Kikyo had a decent amount of contact with; likely someone who had been in the infirmary. Inuyasha’s guardianship wasn’t needed in that area according to Kikyo. How could they have survived this long—as a mortal—and especially if they were in that sick area being treated by the high priestess?

“Miss Kagome, come this way! Let’s go meet with the financial coordinator!” Hojo took her hand and led her through the crowd.

“Miss Kagome,” Myouga whispered.

“What is it?” she whispered back.

“Be very aware of your surroundings… We are not alone.”

“What do you—”

“Miss Kagome, meet Mr. Naraku Onigumo. Mr. Naraku, this is Miss Kagome Higurashi,” Hojo said as he stepped aside to allow them to shake hands.

“Hello Mr. Onigumo, a pleasure,” she extended her hand to which he took. A sudden shiver ran through her body and she felt nauseous, so much so, that she almost dropped his hand in what she could only describe as revulsion… fear… emotions she did not commonly have towards strangers. But above all, the thing that bothered her was the smile he gave her when she trembled. It was dark, sinister, and while it was quick enough to where Hojo hadn’t seen, it was foreboding enough to make her want to excuse herself. She swore she could see images, almost like they had met in a past life. Ancient… clothing like Inuyasha wore when he was released from the tomb. The sinister smile and an evil cackle rung in her head. Why was she seeing these things?

“Miss Kagome, I’ve heard many great things about you from Mr. Hojo. I am truly honored to finally meet you.”

She felt Myouga tugging at her hair that was pulled up and it gave her an odd sense of comfort, knowing he too, felt the ominous presence coming from the gentleman in front of her.

“That’s always nice to hear!” she laughed nervously. Her thoughts immediately went to Inuyasha—wondering where he was and if he would make it to her on time. But she couldn’t figure out why her brain thought she was on a timer or why she directly wanted and needed him. She really wished she had asked more about being a Guardian and how they were summoned…she swallowed. Could he possibly sense if she was in danger?

She swore his eyes flashed red as he took a step closer to her making her take an instinctive step back. Smiling uneasily, Kagome tried to remain calm. He chuckled and put his hand around her back ushering her to go with him, “Come, let us get a refreshment and talk over some ideas I have. Mr. Hojo, please accompany us.”

Swallowing hard and trying to steady her breathing, she reached up so as to scratch her head to the naked eye, but dislodged Myouga and tossed him towards the door. She hoped he knew exactly what she meant since she couldn’t voice to him to go find who she needed. But considering he didn’t cry out or leap back on her shoulder, she assumed he got the message.

Inuyasha followed the scent and ended up in the dark abandoned part of the museum. He looked around and was heavily confused on what was going on… It was like he was being lured there, like a distraction. But he needed to try and find the danger before it found Kagome. He had to protect her! His instincts were roaring to eliminate the threat then to find his Chosen. His mate.

He jumped quickly when he smelt the change in the air and was able to dodge a wind blade that crashed into the tile floor. Landing ten feet away from where the blade hit, he glanced at where it came from and saw a woman dressed in modern clothing holding a fan—dark red eyes, hair drawn up in a ponytail, khaki pants, suspenders, a pink and magenta swirled shirt, and whoever it was, she reeked of that scent he recognized.

“Who are you?!” he yelled angrily.

“We heard the mutt was awoken. I’m shocked you aren’t with your master though…”she teased tapping her fan on her shoulder appearing bored.

“What!?”

“My master is probably doing what he did five hundred years ago to your former master…” she taunted.

“Stop speaking in riddles!” he snarled leaping to snatch her, but she gracefully jumped away and landed where he originally was before she had struck him.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Oh Inuyasha, you are a fool.”

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“I’m not surprised you don’t remember me as I, technically, wasn’t born before your imprisonment. But you met my master, or at least, your ‘Chosen’ priestess did. She nursed him back to health. He fell in love with her kind heart, her position, her power. He began to lust after her and the better he got, the more he desired her. But she denied his proposal, claiming she preferred a life of solitude with her Guardian, just as a priestess should,” her voice sang.

Inuyasha was now growling but didn’t move. He needed to hear what this bitch would say next. She was speaking about Kikyo. Their past. What did she know?! Did she know why Kikyo thought he had betrayed her?!

“So, he sold his soul to the demons who wanted to destroy the palace. They ate him and he became my master, Naraku. He deceived your priestess and made her believe it was you, who betrayed everyone. He made it seem like it was you who killed the royal lineage; it is why she sealed you within that tomb. It was you who damned all of the youkai into total submission. It was made to be that youkai and humans could no longer coexist, making youkai go into hiding. You made them have to conquer the human lands, one by one.

“And your priestess finally learned the truth of the deceit after fifty years. She was mortified that it was actually not you and she tried to unseal you but the spell was too powerful for her weak old body. She died next to your tomb, cursing the man she had married because she thought her only redemption of claiming you as a Guardian was to pray her descendants could do better… but then she learned Naraku was the one who killed everyone. Hahahahahaha! They always say karma is a real bitch.”

Inuyasha felt like his entire world collapsed. Myouga and Totosai had filled him in as best as they could on the details after he was sealed but he had not expected that…

He knew the royals had all been killed; their entire existence was wiped out within a night. He had been sent out by the king for another assignment away from the kingdom to forge a treaty with another area ruled by a half-demon and his bride. Kikyo had to remain there, tending to the sick and while he was unhappy with his assignment, he could not disobey the king.

When he returned Kikyo was furious, screaming incoherently, pushing him away and refusing to be in his presence. She lured him down into the crypts of her home and then sealed him saying that he would regret the day he ever deceived her…

Myouga said after his sealing, the monarch dissolved. The humans rebelled and the Guardians who were still alive were forced to flee. His father had taken his mother overseas to be safe and start a new life. No one knew what became of his brother.

It had to be a lie. “You’re so full of shit! You’re just trying to distract me!”

“Well, obviously. But I can assure you, I was telling you the truth with my little ruse. How does it feel knowing that you failed your priestess, and you’re about to fail your real Chosen,” she laughed, disappearing in a gust of wind.

“Son of a—”

“Master Inuyasha!” Myouga cried.

“Myouga!! Why the fuck aren’t you with—”

“She sent me to get you! An old ancient demon named Naraku is the head financial coordinator and—”

“GodDAMNIT!” he growled taking off in the direction where Myouga came from. “You are gonna tell me everything I missed! I mean it! EVERYTHING! That fucking wind bitch said that the downfall of the royals was because of this Naraku, someone Kikyo cared for and he blamed it all on me!!”

“M-Master! We must save Miss Kagome!”

“You’ll fill me on the way or I’ll squash you and you won’t live to see how the next five hundred years turn out!”

“Very well master… what you heard was true. I—I tried to get here sooner but as a flea I can only move so fast. I heard what Kagura had told you. It is all unfortunately true. Naraku tricked the empire to believe you had killed the monarchy. It caused mass hysteria, chaos, and corruption. Naraku was able to take control of the rebellion, as a priest and promise that the Gods would bless his heirs that he would make with the high priestess. Kikyo married him and bore him sons and daughters. She learned the truth and was able to clear your name before her death, but had been unable to revive you. She had her daughter help her with a spell to help release you once your real Chosen, your mate appeared. The thing that could unlock your tomb would be her blood.”

“Why?!”

“So that you could be happy master! So that you knew it wasn’t a mistake that nothing ever happened between you and her! She knew how much you tried to care about her, but she knew that you were not destined to be together. While she loved you and you her, she knew she was not your mate. Grief overwhelmed her for all the pain that she caused because she had lured you into a life to live without your Chosen. The idea that she sealed you without even hearing your side of the story destroyed her. She knew then she had to correct her mistakes; she used her powers to see your real mate--and found her in the future. She saw the future you could have with her. That is why she changed the seal to open.

“You know that it is Miss Kagome who you are destined for! That she is your Chosen! Your mate!I think she even knows it to be true too, master! You just have to talk to her! She could sense the evil Naraku was emitting! It was like she remembered!”

“Why does that bastard want her?!” he snarled his eyes tinging red.

“Ma-Master…” Myouga saw his master losing control.

“Answer me Myouga!”

“Because he knows she’s a Chosen. Your demonic Chosen. He knows it was she who was able to release you from your slumber. He plans on taking her away like he had done with Kikyo…”

Inuyasha didn’t reply as he raced to where the fundraiser was being held—he had to get to Kagome. He had already failed Kikyo and he felt like a piece of him was torn out. But if he lost Kagome before he even got to tell her what an idiot he was—he’d die. He would take his own life if it came down to that. He. Would. Not. Fail.

Kagome felt like she was going to be sick as she was ushered out onto the balcony. Hojo had tried being helpful and offered to grab their drinks while they got to know each other before discussing the projects Naraku wanted to sponsor.

“So… tell me Miss Kagome. Any suitors I should be aware of?”

“Beg pardon?” she asked, trying to hide the revulsion in her voice.

“Hahaha, oh Miss Kagome. What are you thinking about?”

I’m thinking about a way to get your sleazy hands off me… “No one of concern,” she offered.

“Obviously someone who is distracting you. Tell me about him,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her coaxing her to dance lightly to the music that they could hear from the banquet hall.

Trying not to tremble, she swallowed, “He’s just a…friend. We haven’t known each other long.”

“Ah, but it sounds like you’ve grown very fond of him. You know how the saying goes, ‘love at first sight’. I knew from the moment I gazed upon my wife. She initially did not accept my courtship, but I was able to convince her.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed. Maybe she was just imagining things. He said he was married. But, she just couldn’t shake this feeling of utter disgust as he tried to pull her closer. It was too intimate. It was like…“What is your wife’s name?”

“Kikyo.”

That was all she needed to hear before she pulled away making him snicker. Her heart was beating frantically like it would burst out of her chest. She knew that name—Inuyasha’s former Chosen. How did this-this-this man know!

“So, he mentioned Kikyo, did he?”

“Who are you?! How do you know Inuyasha!?”

“You’re a feisty one,” he said as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The lights turned out and everything went silent. Kagome looked inside and saw everyone had passed out. What was going on!?!? She turned back as she heard him approach her again and took a step back again.

“What do you want!?”

“For Inuyasha to suffer,” he said, grasping her forearm harshly. She swore she felt her skin burn at his touch--she cringed and sucked her breath in to keep from crying out.

“Why?! What did he do to you?!” she demanded trying to pull away from him again.

“He stole the heart of the woman I loved.” She paused knowing he was likely talking about Kikyo. So she had been correct; Kikyo and Inuyasha were in love. It hurt… But she couldn’t explain why—it wasn’t like they were together or anything. Their time had even been five-hundred years ago. But still, she was, as crazy as it sounded, jealous.

“That doesn’t… Sometimes that can’t be helped… But-but even so! You just said you married her!”

“I did.”

“Then why—”

“As high priest, we had to restore the royal lineage that Inuyasha destroyed,” he said, smirking, his hand on her arm finally made her cry out. His touch was actually burning her—it wasn’t just that she was imagining things—he was actually harming her.

“Inu-Inuyasha didn’t do anything!”

“How would you know? You weren’t even there. He killed all the royals. You heard the tales from Totosai and Myouga, did you not? They, of course, wouldn’t betray their master by divulging such information to a weak human.”

“That’s a lie! Inuyasha would never—”

“Oh, but he did my dear.”

“Stop!”

“LET GO OF HER!” Kagome turned her head to see a very angry and ferocious Inuyasha striking down onto the man holding her arm captive.

Naraku let out a cackle as he dropped her arm and disappeared into a giant purple fog as Inuyasha picked her up and jumped back. She swore she was hallucinating. She had to be. Within the last month, things had gotten out of hand. Maybe she should have considered checking herself into an insane asylum or something.

“Are you alright?” His gruff voice questioned.

“Y-yes,” she said breathily.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the half-breed himself,” Naraku remarked as he appeared on the museum’s rooftop.

“You must be Naraku…” Inuyasha growled, tightening his hold over Kagome’s body. Kagome finally had a moment to take him all in. His eyes were red, bright blue irises in place of his beautiful gold, purple jagged marks on his cheeks, fangs that dipped out of his mouth—what happened to him? Why had he transformed again? She was in too much shock to say anything—too much to do anything but rest in his arms as she idly traced the arm Naraku had burned. She felt nothing. But she knew she would once the initial scare wore off—she did her best not to look down at it to delay the inevitable. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the half-demon holding her in his arms and clutched his shirt with her injured arm as best as she could.

“That I am; it’s a pleasure to finally meet the disgrace in person.”

“What the fuck does that mean!?”

“I already filled in young Miss Kagome on what occurred five-hundred years ago. How you killed all the royals and that waswhy the Lady Kikyo sealed you away for all eternity.”

“Shut up!”

“Now now Inuyasha, it’s ok to be a monster. Kikyo fell in love with you just as she did with me. Obviously, she had a taste for things that were vile. Tell me, did she ever allow you to hold her at night? Allow her into her sweet--” he was cut off when Inuyasha was suddenly in front of him, swiping down with his claws snarling menacingly at him. Naraku laughed maniacally as he egged the half-demon-turned-full into battle.

Kagome had almost been dropped on her ass. Not that she could blame the guy--the love of his life was more or less defiled by this disgusting thing of a man that was prancing around on the roof. It still didn’t help her heavy heart. She heard footsteps come from the ballroom and she glanced to see two figures--a child with white hair, wearing a white dress, eyes as blank as unending darkness, carrying a mirror, and a woman who wore slacks and brightly colored shirt holding a fan. Kagome almost wished her life would go back to being the way it was before she met Inuyasha. Almost. The excitement would maybe kill her, but she honestly felt more alive than she had ever thought possible.

She stood and felt her hair fall from her tightly woven crown in the process, now trailing down her back, swaying in the wind. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Run Miss Kagome!”

“Myouga?!” she looked down at her shoulder to see the flea that just appeared.

“That is Mistress Kagura, a wind sorceress and the child is Kanna of the void. She steals souls!”

“Souls? You must be joking!” Kagome tried to reason with the flea.

“I wish I were, you must try to escape until my master fends off Naraku!”

“I don’t need Inuyasha’s help,” she replied stubbornly.

“Miss Kagome! Now is no time to be stubborn!”

“He’s busy avenging Kikyo; I’m going to have to handle this on my own.” She looked around trying to find some form of weapon but had no luck. Maybe she could try to lure them into the museum so she could use one inside. Oh she was so going to be fired…

“You have a fire in you; a fire just like Kikyo’s,” Kagura spoke as she tapped her fan on her shoulder. “I will enjoy putting it out.”

“What do you even want with me?!” Kagome demanded.

“I’d thought that would be obvious at this point,” she said flicking her fan open and swinging it so the wind blades would strike.

“AIIII!” Kagome screamed dodging as best as she could. She jumped and swung herself away landing roughly on her stomach. Looking back at them, she quickly got to her feet with Myouga’s persistence to run. She took off and heard another swish of the woman’s fan as the crazy woman laughed at her struggles. Kagome jumped and landed on her back and thankfully the blades cut through the windows.

Covering her head as the glass fell and rolling onto her stomach to cover herself more, she felt some of the chunks fall onto her back. She tried to remain calm. As calm as one could be with someone attacking them, that is. But she knew she had to keep her head level and focus on her objective; currently it was to stay alive. Fight.

She stood once the glass stopped shattering on the ground around her and took off running into the building. Gasping, she tried not to stop as she saw all the people who were attending the event lying on the ground motionless.

“Wh-what--Myouga! What’s wrong with them??”

“I told you Miss Kagome! Their souls have been taken!”

“Ugh! I don’t--Gahh!!!” she screamed as something grabbed her ankle swinging her down onto the ground breathlessly. She looked and saw Hojo above her with a blank look on his face.

“Hojo?! What are you doing!? Let me go!”

“And where would the fun be if we let you run?” Kagura laughed as she entered the ballroom.

Kagome struggled to push Hojo off of her so she could get to the next room. One room away. One room and she could get something to fight these demons. Muttering an apology, she kicked him as hard as she could in the gut causing him to roll off her. She stumbled getting up and again when she felt his hand grab her dress.

“Dammit! Get off!!” she yelled, kicking his wrist in a nerve to make him release his hold. She heard her dress rip slightly as she scurried off quickly.

She barely made it through the towering archway as more wind blades struck.

“Miss Kagome! Quickly! The bow!”

“What??” she asked, covering her head as bricks and stone crashed down around her from the overhead. She screamed and tried to keep running even though she felt some of the stones falling upon her. Realizing she didn’t have time to argue or question Myouga, she rushed and felt the pull of the bow behind the glass frame on the far wall. She ripped the bottom part of her dress off and wrapped it around her arm. Punching as hard as she could, she shattered the glass that encased the ancient bow. Throwing down the torn rags, she uncovered her arm and grabbed the bow.

It pulsed in her hand. Pulsed. She swore to the Gods it did. It was… speaking to her. She had to have been going crazy at that point. Probably blood loss. Pain. Who knew. But either way, she felt the overwhelming urge to turn around at that moment. She swung holding the bow in front of her and squealed when she saw the wind blades heading straight for her. Unable to do anything, she held the bow tightly in front of her hoping and praying it would take the blunt of the blows as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she felt nothing, she peeked through one of her eyes and saw she was being covered in a weird purple-pink shield.

Gasping she saw the demon with the fan narrow her eyes in anger. “Kanna,” she said with purpose.

The little demon with white hair raised her mirror and Kagome felt a shift in the world as she fell to the ground feeling suddenly cold.

Inuyasha was in a fit of rage and felt like he couldn’t pull himself out. His body was no longer his own. All he could see was red. All he felt was underlying unadulterated blood lust. All he could do was attack. And there was nothing and no one that could stop his animosity as he attacked Naraku--sending blow after blow from his claws towards the fucking disgusting rancid demon taunting his every move...

Suddenly, the thought occurred to him--why was he allowing him to attack so freely? He began to hear her--Kagome’s cries and he smelled her blood. His body froze. He felt like a building fell on him. His demonic aura almost dissipated at the thought of her being hurt because he had…

Fuck. He dropped her. Dropped her on her ass to attack the asshole who lured him away from her. He was so pissed off she had burns on her from the devil, that she had been screaming, that she had been left unguarded---he let him goad him into leaving her taunting him about how he defiled Kikyo! Fuck!! That wind bitch!!

“Ahhhh, just realizing that your replacement for our beloved Kikyo is in trouble? I will not permit you to leave. You will suffer the way I suffered when Kikyo cared for you. You will lose your humanity and become a mindless creature bent on destroying the world until you are begging for sweet death.”

“You and I are nothing alike! We are NOT the same!” Inuyasha yelled, his demonic features retreating as he was able to restore some of his head. His inner demon must’ve backed off knowing the blood lust was what got them in this position to begin with. Dammit all! Kagome!!!

“I think that we are more than you’d care to admit,” Naraku taunted as he finally released his attack; his body transformed into the ugliest fucking shape Inuyasha had ever seen. Wooden tentacles shot out and started to surround him. Inuyasha thought it was child’s play though. This was beginner level stuff from when he had begun his training to become a Guardian. Why was Naraku, a demon who had lived for countless centuries, so weak?? So unskilled?

After dodging Naraku’s advances and swiping a few more attacks of his own, he noticed the tentacles were being reabsorbed back into the ugly fuck’s body. He growled and snarled angrily realizing he was playing with a goddamned puppet!!!

“Son of a--can’t you fight your own battles?!?! You have to use fucking tricks and others to fight for you?!? How cowardly are you!?!?”

“Goad me all you like, Inuyasha,” Naraku laughed maniacally. “Your time is almost up.”

“What does that mean?!?!” Inuyasha demanded.

Before Naraku answered, he felt a supreme amount of reiki soar towards him. He jumped out of the way in time for it to strike down Naraku as the sick bastard continued to laugh. All that was left of him was a wooden doll with a black hair wrapped around it. Inuyasha recognized that power. He stood tall and turned slowly to face the person he was fearful to see.

He saw the haunting silhouette of the woman who trapped him in his tomb--the woman who sealed him away. But after the smoke from the ferocity of the arrow cleared, he saw Kagome holding the bow. Her dress was torn up, she had scratches and bruises all over her body, the burn still present on her forearm, her hair was free of the updo she had worked in earlier that evening… She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was too entranced with her to realize there was something wrong.

“Ka-Kagome--” he took a step towards her about to say more when she pulled back on the string on the bow creating another reiki fueled weapon in the shape of an arrow. “Kagome?!!”

“You… betrayed me…” her voice was weird. Devoid of emotion even the words she used stung. They were the same ones Kikyo used on him five-hundred years ago before she sealed him away.

“Kagome! I’m sorry! I lost control! I was coming for you!” He was shocked when she released the arrow again that propelled straight towards him. He managed to clear it but only to have several more projectiles flying towards him. What the fuck was wrong with her?! Why was she so mad?! He trusted her--

That’s when it dawned on him--it wasn’t her. Kagome would never… She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Kagome wasn’t Kikyo. He leapt towards and noticed her blank eyes as she swung the bow to hit him again. Before she could pull back the string and renotch another spiritual arrow, Inuyasha grabbed her bow to pull it out of her grasp. He had not expected the hand that was off the bow to swing and blast him with reiki. Screaming from the agonizing burn he jumped back away from her.

“Damnit!”

“Something wrong, Inuyasha?” Kagura laughed.

“Grrrrr… you again. What did you do to Kagome?!!”

“Nothing. Just told her the truth.”

“What ‘truth’?!”

“That you are in love with Kikyo--even though she isn’t really your mate. Kagome was a little upset to say the least. Kanna was able to open her mind and help her learn the spiritual techniques of her ancestors.”

Kagome restrung the bow and took aim at him again. He whimpered, unsure what to do, on how to save her. Fuck. He was about to fail again!

“Master Inuyasha!”

“Myouga!” Inuyasha huffed as he jumped away from Kagome’s new onslaught of attacks quickly grabbing Myouga up and tossing him on his shoulder.

“They took her soul and are controlling her, Master!”

“How the fuck do I get it back?!”

“I--well--uhm--” Myouga stammered.

“Dammit Myouga! Get lost!” Inuyasha yelled as he threw the flea from his shoulder sensing the oncoming arrow he wasn’t going to be able to dodge without being in the direct path of another. He cried out in pain when the arrow struck his chest. But then suddenly vanished just as quickly as it struck him.

Panting, he was able to sit upright uneasily but looked up to see Kagome’s form shaking. Her hand that wasn't clutching the bow trembled the most, her chest heaving. She was fighting.

“KAGOME!”

“Ya-” she breathed. If it wasn’t for his demonic hearing he probably would have heard her strained voice.

“Kanna--what’s wrong?!” Kanna stepped forward and looked down at her mirror. Inuyasha could see clouds of white escaping while the mirror shook and he heard slight cracking sounds. He took the cue and leapt forward grasping his shoulder to hopefully keep it from absorbing all the shock from when he landed.

“Kagome! Fight it! I know you can!” he pleaded as he placed his hands on her upper arms. He wanted to embrace her, hold her, promise her everything would be ok--that he would save her, that he would protect her always--confess his love for the strange girl of the future era and admit he had grown overly fond of her. That he loved her, not Kikyo. That what he felt for her didn’t even compare what he felt for his old Chosen--who was just a Chosen… not his mate.

Those feelings weren’t just formed because he could sense his demonic half claiming her as his mate. Yea, her scent drove him wild. Yes, she was fucking gorgeous. Strong, fierce, mouthy, but she was kind. Accepting. She gave him a home when she didn’t have to. She fed him, cared for him, helped him learn about the things that changed over the centuries. Her desire to help him belong, help him be able to be on his own if he wanted. The idea she offered to help him find a place when he was comfortable, or even offered to get him one and she would just check up on him, help him from a distance if he'd be more comfortable that way… she was just so amazing. How could he not--how could anyone not fall in love with a being like her?

She was so interested in his past. Kagome actually wanted to listen to him talk. It wasn’t just her filling the void. She treated him as an equal--not just as a Guardian.

He couldn’t lose her! He refused to lose her! While he could fight a battle physically, he couldn’t fight it spiritually. This fight was hers--one of which she seemed like she was holding her own at. He had to encourage her--even if that meant he had to cross a line. He pulled her into his arms and pressed her face into his chest.

In a drunken haze one night, she had admitted she liked how he smelled--like a forest. Pine trees. Musky. Something so… “Inuyasha” as she put it. He knew his own scent. He was surprised she was able to discern it so quickly.

She had cuddled up to him and played with his ears. It was so awkward because he was still in denial over her being his Chosen but he couldn’t resist her charms. He loved being in her company. Being in her attention. His body being touched by her.

“Please Kagome, I know you can do this--I believe in you,” he buried his nose into her hair trying to calm his raging anxiety. He couldn’t lose her--he just found her. The woman that had begun to heal his heart--he fought it for so long… But in that moment when he actually thought he would lose her--he couldn’t. He’d die if he lost her. Kikyo already passed on--his only real friend. His first friend. Kikyo's death hurt him, but he could move on. The love they had was more platonic--his love for the young woman locked in his arms was indescribable.

He felt her grasp his shirt and he felt her falling; his arms kept a tight hold on her small body to keep her upright, “Inu--” she said strained.

“That’s it--I’m right here! Fight!”

“Kanna! Do something!” Kagura hissed.

“The mirror…” Kanna whispered.

“Fine! Dance of Blades!” Kagura yelled, swinging her fan at Kagome and him. He leapt out of the way, protecting her head by pressing his hand to the back of it as he kept a firm hand around her waist. He continued to dodge until the blades stopped when he and Kagura heard a large crack in the mirror.

Inuyasha landed just as the white clouds burst from the mirror and soared through the sky. One shot towards him and Kagome making him almost dodge before Myouga yelled, “No! You must allow Miss Kagome to reabsorb the soul! She has summoned it!”

“She what?!” Inuyasha exclaimed as he felt her soul slam back into her body. He held on as he felt the pressure surround them. Once it seemed like her body fully absorbed, he felt her pulsate--like her soul was seeking something out now that it had returned to where it belonged.

“Inu…yasha…” she said slowly.

Inuyasha sighed in relief but kept his hold on her, and tightened it slightly, “Kagome.”

Kagura scoffed, “How romantic--” She was cut off when another arrow went skyrocketing towards her and Kanna. Kagura quickly summoned a feather from her hair and they were lifted up into the sky making their get-away.

“Damnit! Get back here!” Inuyasha yelled.

“They are of no consequence--they are but tools of Naraku,” Kagome said coldly. It made him stiffen. The way she said it. The way she… He turned back to face the young woman and was met with deep blue eyes. Deeper than usual. Calculating.

“Ki-Kikyo…?” he said in shock.

“Hello, Inuyasha. It’s good to see you again.”

Kagome felt cold. Stiff. Empty. Something was wrong. She had managed to get the bow hadn’t she? She had...deflected their attacks. Or at least she thought she did. She opened her eyes and was met with a beautiful woman--long flowing straight black hair, deep navy blue eyes unlike her teal ocean blues, they looked oddly similar, but somehow also so different.

Gasping from fright, she looked around and was surrounded in darkness. Fuck! She had gone crazy! She finally cracked. Yep. That was the only rational solution.

“You have not gone crazy, Kagome,” the woman in front of her said.

“What?! How did--”

“We are inside your mind. Locked. The demons you were fighting took your soul.”

“Who…? Oh! Those demons! But--”

“I know this is all new to you… but you remember. Some of your previous life--” the woman placed a hand on her cheek closing her eyes and sent images into Kagome’s mind. Images of a past life--

“Are you--Are you Kikyo??” The woman smiled in response.

“I am. Your ancestor. And your previous life.”

“You are Inuyasha’s Chosen,” Kagome gaped at her former self. She was so beautiful. Refined. Proper. Kagome felt somewhat disheartened. No wonder Inuyasha couldn’t stand her. She would never match up to her. Kikyo smiled softly in return, a comforting smile as if she knew what she was thinking.

“Not in the way you are referring, young one.”

“What--”

“I am not, and was not Inuyasha’s mate. I was merely a priestess with a Guardian. A Chosen who needed a Guardian in the palace.”

“But he said--”

“He did care about me. And I, for him. But, not in the sense you think. We resigned ourselves to a life of companionship. I felt romantic feelings for him, but I knew it was not the same for him. I was not his Chosen--his Chosen mate. It would never have worked for us in the way you are thinking of. I was too tied to my duty to the kingdom. He was tied to restoring his family's honor and the love he felt for me was friendly. Not at all romantic. But it was okay for both of us just to resign to live side by side.”

“Just the way he talks about you…”

“Do you not have a friend you speak highly of? A friend you miss? A friend who you grew up with and you had to go your separate ways?”

Kagome thought of her best friend Sango and how they grew up together, lived together throughout college... then she met Miroku. He was a great guy, with great ambitions, and he really worked hard to gain Sango’s attention. He really made Sango his world and proved to her time and time again how it would always be her. And well, the rest was history. They moved for his work to the States and Sango happily followed. They kept in contact and Kagome visited as much as she could.

“Yes…” Kagome said sadly.

“I know you have had a lot to learn recently. That this life can seem overwhelming, but I can assure you that it is a part of your destiny. That this is the way your life was meant to be.”

“But why--”

“Because you are Inuyasha’s mate.”

“I’m--what??!”

“You know this is true.”

“I-I--” she trailed off and pondered what Kikyo was telling her.

“Think Kagome; you know this to be true. There is a force that is driving you to him. Even now--” They were interrupted when they heard a muffled yell. “He needs you.”

“N-no. I-I’ll--You need to help him! I-I can’t. I don’t know how--please--”

“Call out to him.”

“What??”

“Call out to him, Kagome. He’ll hear you and help you push through this darkness.”

Kagome focused on the outside of this void. She tried to project herself--the only thing that felt right, the way to get herself out of there. Her body felt like an unmovable wall. Something was moving her like she was a puppet. Only rather than being attached to strings, she was being moved by a remote control.

She felt a large amount of power leave her as she heard Inuyasha yell at Myouga before he cried out in pain. Doing the only thing she could think to do was try to draw back what left her when she came back into her body. She tried to speak and it felt like she’d ran fifty miles. Gasping and panting, she tried to push through only to feel a heavy lump in her throat as she tried to voice his name as he called for her--”Ya…”

That was all she could get out before she was snapped back into the darkness with Kikyo. She cried. She was pitiful. Inuyasha deserved better. She was useless--hopeless. She knew nothing.

“Please… Kikyo please help him.”

“Kagome--”

“Please!!! You have to help him! Save him!!!”

“What if we cannot switch back?”

“I’m willing to die for him, Kikyo! Please!! I’m untrained and-and-and I can’t let them use me to destroy him!! Please!!! I know he’ll be happy! I know he loves you even though you don’t think so! I won’t make him choose! Please!!!!”

“As you wish, Kagome,” Kikyo sighed defeatedly as she disappeared from Kagome’s view. Kagome could still the tingling of power as Kikyo fought off the demons. She heard Inuyasha talking to her--soothing her. He really was kind. She was sad she gave Kikyo another chance, but she also realized their time had been short because that Naraku creep deceived them. It was only right. Kikyo was wrong. Kagome wasn’t Inuyasha’s mate. Kikyo was… and that was okay. When you loved someone, you let them go to be happy. That was the only way Kagome ever loved Inuyasha--unconditionally.

She heard Inuyasha say Kikyo’s name and she had to remind herself this was her choice. Still, it didn’t lessen the quake in her heart.

“Kikyo… where’s Kagome?”

“She--she wanted me to help you. She does not know how to use our power. Her desire to save you sent me into her body.”

“Is she your reincarnation?”

“Ironic, isn’t it? That I was not your mate, but Kagome, my ancestor, my reincarnation, is…”

“You know?”

“You are free, are you not?”

“So what Myouga said was true…”

“Indeed.”

“It--it’s safe now. Are you going to let Kagome come back?”

Kikyo shifted uncomfortably, lowering her eyes, “I believe I know the answer to this--as she is your mate. But, we have so much history. So much to discuss… Is that girl more important to you than I am?”

“I’m sorry, Kikyo. She is. While I get we didn’t get closure or whatever, I need her back.”

Kikyo looked up and smiled softly, “She’s already changed you.”

“What??”

“You have a more kind look in your eyes. Softer. You held me, or rather her, without reservation. Trust was never our strong suit even though you were my Guardian. Yet, you allowed yourself to get close to this girl within weeks, have you not? Even when she was attacking you, you automatically knew it was not her. In the past, you were more reversed and never voiced your opinion unless asked, but here you demand to see the young woman again. Even when you know that would mean my ultimate end.”

“...I--” He honestly didn’t know how to answer. Thinking back, he had been trying to push Kagome away. Keep himself from getting close to her. But obviously Kikyo, in some dormant part of Kagome’s soul, could see he failed. That he changed in spite of his stubbornness. “I’ve grown to care about her. A lot. I don’t think she feels the same, but it doesn’t stop my desire to be with her.”

“Why’s that?”

“You just said it--it’s been a couple of weeks. Things are different in this age of time, Kikyo.”

“Love never changes, even in time Inuyasha. And that girl--she does care for you deeply; she cares enough to risk imprisonment within her own soul.”

“She what?” He was shell shocked. His ears twitched. Did he hear her correctly??

“She sacrificed herself… She wanted me to help you. She didn’t believe she was your mate.”

“I--Kikyo I can’t lose her! I just found her!”

“Call to her--she can hear you. We both could as her body was being dragged around by the demons. It was what made her gain control to stop the arrow from purifying you.”

“Kagome!” he called as he clasped onto her arms. It was eerie having Kikyo’s stoic stare gazing back at him through Kagome’s eyes. That was one thing he cherished about Kagome; she never hid her emotions and was always upfront about when he pissed her off. What made her excited. What made her sad… He never wanted that fire within her to ever be extinguished. “Kagome! Come back!! It’s safe now!!”

Kikyo continued to look at him and slightly looked saddened--like she couldn’t hear Kagome’s response.

“Don’t you fucking say anything--” he warned Kikyo.

“Inuyasha! Language!”

“Kagome,” he pressed on, uncaring of Kikyo’s reprimand. “You can’t honestly believe I don’t need you! I was never myself with Kikyo! I couldn’t be! I was just her Guardian--not her mate! I’m sorry I was such a dick! But it’s you I need! Kagome!!!”

“Keep trying Inuyasha. Don’t give up,” Kikyo offered him. She obviously could see he was clearly distressed.

“Kagome--come on! I--I know I was a jerk. I’ll be honest! I’ll talk. I’ll tell you anything!! Please--I need you Kagome! I--this sounds crazy but, fuck Kagome, I love you! I love how wild your hair is in the morning, I love how you speak your mind, I love how caring, accepting, and open you are! The way you breathe in your coffee and sigh, the way plop down on the couch next to me after a long day, even the way you sing songs non stop while you clean your house, are things I can’t get enough of. Your love and care is unconditional! Kagome--” he was out of options. Kikyo didn’t budge. The face of pity was what finally sent his demon into a frenzy. It was going mad at the idea he would never see Kagome again. It was angry he had been a shit mate and pushed her away--that he was the reason she left.

“Kagome! Fuck! Kikyo! What the fuck do I do?”

“She can hear you, Inuyasha. I do not know why she is not emerging. She may not be able to… I warned her of this.”

“There has to be a fucking way!”

“Master Inuyasha!!” Myouga called from the ground below them.

“Myouga,” Inuyasha said, still highly anxious.

“Master! The Lady Kikyo is correct! You must call to Miss Kagome!”

“What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing?!?!”

“Master--you are so dense! Tell us! When you lost control of your demon the night of your awakening, how did Miss Kagome get you back to your senses?”

Blushing at the thought Inuyasha stuttered, “F-fuck! I don’t wanna force myself on her!!” He thought back to that day that felt so long ago--the day she awakened him…

He was so disoriented when he had awoken. She looked so similar to Kikyo--it made sense now. Kagome was her descendant and her reincarnation. They always said fate had her own plans. Fate was the creator of irony. After Kagome explained repeatedly she was not his Chosen, that he was not her Guardian, and that she was ‘Ka-Go-Me’, Totosai finally revealed himself. The jackass. Still had been up to no good and plaguing his family with his overbearing intrusive presence.

Totosai left Myouga with him to explain things that happened over the centuries as he then explained to Kagome who Inuyasha was and who they actually were. Totosai left and Kagome apologized, after hearing Myouga explain things to him--about his sealing, about the change in time, about the death of Kikyo. She offered to help him--not leave him alone. He deserved a second chance and she would happily be his friend outside of her research project. She even humored herself saying they could learn from each other and once he was on his own feet, he could live alone. He was not amused; he was edgy and mad and frustrated and devastated, and--and--horribly confused.

Kagome--her scent called to him in ways he never knew was possible. Her body, her figure--it made his mouth water. Her eyes that sparkled like the ocean peered into his soul. Her voice sang a unique song that seemed to calm his heart, his demonic instincts--but his human ego was utterly pissed off. He couldn’t help but be a straight asshole to her. How could this mortal be trusted? His own Chosen locked his ass up in a tomb for five-hundred fucking years! Someone he had trusted with his life, cared for deeply even though they weren’t…

OH. FUCK. The realization of everything came crashing down like a waterfall; Kagome was his mate. Those thoughts circled his head as he realized with his awakening, his aura had shot out powerfully. Not completely his fault--it was the part of the spell. He noticed his senses picking up movement, scents, and worse, youki. He pushed his thoughts about her being his mate behind him and pressed forward to the matter at hand.

He ushered her to follow but she was hell bent on leaving. She admitted the day was odd enough and she hadn’t planned on trying to get more attention. The problem was by the time they made it upstairs, they were surrounded. Things were awakening and those things wanted to eat. Souls. Flesh. Whatever they could get their grubby little hands on.

Inuyasha was still feeling the effects of his sealing. It took far longer to beat off the low grade demons and it awakened his demonic state when he heard the dumbass girl cry out when he didn’t make it to her in time.

The next thing he knew outside of the lust for blood underneath his claws, the drive for sheer power, and the desire to find his mate and rut her into submission was Kagome. She had her body pressed intimately against him and she was kissing him--hard--embracing him fully. Her hands had cupped his cheek, breasts were pressed against his chest, her legs flushly between his own as her lips covered his own. He wasn’t really sure what the fuck happened. Once she broke loose she looked around and sighed in relief. She apologized profusely explaining someone must’ve heard them fighting with the rogue demons and came looking. A security guard or something. Since Totosai had said demons were hidden in this world from humans, she had to think fast of a way to hide and make his snarls and growls stop.

What had floored him was she apologized to him for forcing herself on him. A demon. A half-demon. She apologized to him for making him uncomfortable. Not the other way around. The fact she even got so close--his demon purred in contentment until it wanted more. It made Inuyasha withdraw from her. He was scared of the feelings he was being plagued with. Obviously she took it as disgust. Or that he loved Kikyo. Shit. He was already the worst mate. But his anxieties had been justified at the time. Now--now they are what drove his mate within herself. Fuck.

Kikyo continued to stare at him, whether or not she knew what transpired between him and Kagome those weeks ago, she offered no words of comfort or disappointment.

"Master! The Lady Kikyo will not see it as such! That is not her body!"

"It may not be her body flea but it's her consciousness! I--uh--"

Kikyo giggled, flustering Inuyasha more, "Oh Inuyasha, I understand there is no meaning for this kiss towards me; I know it for Kagome.”

“God! You guys are just assholes!” he added as he blushed. “Is.. I know you said Kagome can hear us… is she saying anything?”

Kikyo shook her head, “She has remained silent. I sense her emotions. But she has not spoken to what she is hearing. I’m not sure if she is being receptive or not. It’s possible she thought you would be happy to see me again and shut down.”

“I don’t know why she’d think something so fucking stupid! So you’re telling me she can’t hear anything?!”

“I am not sure Inuyasha. I know we could hear you from inside the void when our soul was taken by the one known as Kanna. There is no reason to raise your voice to me in such a way.”

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes and exhaled in agitation, “Listen Kikyo, I am not the same guy as I was five-hundred years ago. You said that yourself. Kagome has accepted me for who I am. I’m not gonna just revert back to being your guard dog--I’m Kagome’s Guardian now. Do you hear that Kagome?!” He grasped her arms harshly. Pleading that she felt it deep down inside herself. “I’m more me with you than with Kikyo! You better get the fuck back here because I’m not gonna hide who I am! I’m happy with you Kagome! You are the one I’m meant to be with. God I hope you’re fucking listening because I’m not gonna to repeat this! Damnit! Woman! Grrrrr,” he growled, finally pushed to the limit and dropped his lips to hers in bruising force. This had better work…

Kagome tried her best to keep things muffled--she didn’t want to hear Kikyo and Inuyasha’s reunion. The sweet nothings he’d whisper to her ancestor, the confessions of love, and the intimate position they probably were embracing in… God. If she could sink further into herself, she would. She would happily accept death if it would make Inuyasha happy.

Was she pathetic for thinking that? For giving up? Was it technically giving up? She said she would help him learn to be able to survive on his own. Her staying here would void that promise. But she would be giving him Kikyo--someone she knew he cared deeply about. That was a better gift right?

Kagome heard him yelling something about being stupid--her hands were still clamped over her ears but his shouts was loud enough to make it through her barriers she placed over her heart. Did he think she was being stupid? Foolish? Whatever. He didn’t have to tolerate her anymore anyway. Her despair fell off of her in waves.

Why did Kikyo tell her to think about her feelings towards him anyway? She knew she was his mate? She knew she liked the guy… okay, obviously she was in love with him. Sacrificing herself proved that little tidbit. But--what were mates?

Myouga hadn’t elaborated very much. Just said that there were two different types of Chosens.

Kikyo said she was different from the type of Chosen. Whatever that meant.

Were mates--well duh, they had to be a demon related thing--a ‘mating’ thing? That’s how zoologists described animals reproducing. Why would Kikyo say they were mates?

Was she saying they needed to ‘bang’ it out? Not that Kagome was opposed--but God forbid if that ever got out that she had sex out of wedlock. Then again, maybe it was normal for Inuyasha’s time? She couldn’t imagine he was in uhm… ‘mint’ condition. But then again, anytime Kikyo came up, he got a sour look on his face and she had dropped the subject. But Inuyasha was too good looking to be turned down. Sighing, Kagome declared she would do more research about five-hundred years ago and demonic breeding… if she ever got out of the darkness.

She heard more yelling and she was starting to get even more upset. This jackass couldn’t appreciate anything she did for him! Typical! What an asshole! What was his problem?! He had Kikyo! He had Totosai and Myouga to help him adjust to the time. One little promise of sticking by him shouldn’t mean so much to the guy. God. Jerk.

Her heart began to flutter rapidly when she swore she heard him say something about being his mate. But everything was muffled and distorted. No way she heard him correctly. That was when she felt an odd sensation on her lips. Clearly she was going mad… he wasn’t kissing her. He was likely kissing Kikyo…

But her soul kept fading in and out--or in and out of her consciousness. Whatever the darkness she was in. It was hard to describe or know what was going on. She finally saw him. Fuck a duck. He was kissing her. Her. Well--scratch that--he was kissing Kikyo but it summoned her back. Unknowingly and unwittingly. Damnit!

Gasping she gained his attention and his eyes opened. His bright amber eyes bore into hers. She knew she was blushing madly as he pulled back and said her name breathily.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to come back!”

“Wh--What?!!?” his gentle caring eyes turned angry. “Why are you saying it like that?!!?”

“You--you were kissing Kikyo and I--I--I don’t know but I came back out of the darkness!”

“Duh! That was the fuckin’ point, idiot!”

“UGHHHHHH! You’re so frustrating!!! Can’t you appreciate anything I try to do for you?!?!”

“Who said I wanted Kikyo back?!!?”

“You!!”

“When!?!” he said, gripping her arms tightly.

“Uhmmm…” Well come to think of it, he never voiced such a desire… “Okay, maybe not out loud, but you did with your actions and insinuations!”

“And you know what? That is my fault. You’re right. I’m a shit mate for making you feel unwanted but I had a lot to process in the past couple of weeks! Give me a fuckin’ break!”

“Well of course it is and--wait--what?!?!”

“You heard me, wench.”

“N-no… wait--uhm--” she stammered as she looked away blushing.

“Uh uh,” he said, grabbing her chin with his fingers pulling her back to face his intense eyes. “I admit I fucked up; I almost lost you, Kagome. But tell me why in the seven hells you thought it would be a good idea for you to sacrifice yourself to allow Kikyo to come back.”

“You’re in love with her--and I--” she swallowed thickly the ‘L’ word that threatened to escape her lips and pressed on, “care about you. I wanted you to be happy--even if it wasn’t with me.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I think I have ever heard. That includes the time you told me you rode in a metal cart machine to work and that if it crashed it would kill you.”

“Inuyasha--”she warned.

“Kagome--I tried to tell you that Kikyo and I were not in love. I was just her Guardian. That’s it. We obviously didn’t trust each other. That’s not something that can’t exist between mates. Tell me--do you trust me?”

“What does that have to do with anything?? Of course I do!”

“Why?”

“I--uh--” she trailed off really unsure how to answer the question. Why did she trust him so undyingly? When she awoke him in the museum, she held no fear of him. She even bossed him around and asked him fifty billion questions. Just like he was an old friend of hers she hadn’t seen in forever, not a five-hundred year old demon who could have easily killed her.

“Exactly. You just do. You know I would never harm you,” he breathed, his face oddly close to hers as his hands somehow found their way into her hair. His fingers brushed through it lovingly, making her sigh shakily.

“I-it could just because I’m a descendant of Kikyo’s.”

“Your theory doesn’t hold up Ka-Go-Me. Kikyo didn’t trust me.”

“But--she learned the truth didn’t she??”

“Doesn’t mean she trusted me. She just knew I didn’t commit treason,” he found a particular stand he had fingered through fascinating to her relief as he looked away from her. His body in such close proximity made hers hot even though her dress had seen such better days. She needed a moment where his eyes weren’t glued to her.

Closing her eyes, exhaling again before speaking, she whispered, “I’m sorry. Were you two able to…?”

“No. But I made my peace with it. She knew the truth; I didn’t need an apology or an explanation. Not really. I just needed you back,” he admitted.

Her eyes shot open and relocked with his, “What?”

“You need to start listening; it’s probably why you end up in so many fights,” he smirked.

“Listen to what!? You’re making no sense!”

“You are my mate, Kagome. My Chosen. Not someone I have to protect--but someone I want to--someone I need to. Not for the sake of honor, but for the sake of living. If you ever died--I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I wouldn’t be able to survive. The fact you were almost sealed away inside yourself… it was enough to make my demon stir and almost emerge and go into another killing frenzy.”

“Like earlier? When Naraku said that awful stuff about Kikyo?”

“I was already transformed because your life was in danger. Being that enraged and pissed off about your safety, seeing he had burned your arm, I was easily baited into fighting with him. He had wanted to drive us apart. The fucker nearly succeeded too; I left you unprotected and vulnerable while I tried to exact revenge for Kikyo and myself. I screwed up. Big time. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive though, Inuyasha. I understand,” she said as she stroked his cheek.

“See? I don’t know how else I can prove to you that you’re my mate. You know it deep down.”

“I… I guess I just don’t totally understand,” she said softly.

“Mates--it’s hard to explain because I've never had one. Myouga knows more than I do--speaking of the useless asshole--where are you?!” he called.

“Right here, Master! Didn’t want to interrupt such a tender moment.”

Welp, that was embarrassing--she turned six shades of red but Inuyasha secured his arms to wrap around her as he held her close. She took the opportunity to bury her head into his shirt and prayed maybe the ground would swallow her up.

“Myouga,” he warned.

“Sorry Master!”

“Can you beat it? We can talk later.”

“Did you want to know the full details of mating though?”

“I think I can handle the easy details asshole, can you just get the fuck outta here??! Go make yourself useful and make sure the other people in the building got their souls back or whatever,” he yelled, swatting Myouga from his shoulder followed by a terrorized scream.

“Sigh, you didn’t have to be so mean,” she chastised.

“Yea, yea, you didn’t have to live with him five-hundred years ago.”

“Anyway,” she said, clearing her throat, hoping maybe he’d release her. Okay that was a lie--she never had felt so at home or safe being next to him. Or rather, in his arms. But she wasn’t very comfortable with intimacy. It was highly taboo. The idea just made her face light up further.

“Yea… mates are--to demons, they are uhm… Fuck, I hate having to explain shit. But you need to know. It’s like a husband and wife thing with humans. But it’s permanent. There’s no going back once a demon has mated. Their souls entangle and their lives get--shared I guess? I’m not clear with all the details and specifics, just the general idea of everything. I just know that it’s a rather large commitment.”

“Okay,” she replied softly.

“What?”

“I said okay; as in, okay, I’ll be your mate.”

“Kagome--you can’t just agree to it not knowing--”

“You’re right though. I--I think I’ve always known. Just how easily I came to trust you, offer you my home without thinking about how uhm--improper it would be, how I turned down Hojo--”

“YOU DID WHAT!?!? THAT LITTLE FUCKER--”

“--just everything makes sense as to why I’ve lived my life the way I have by now. How I ended up with a demon professor and boss--it’s just… it makes me happy. Knowing I actually do belong.”

“You’re--you’re crazy you know that, right?”

“Yea, I get that a lot,” she smiled brightly up at him.

He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against hers, “I’m not gonna mark you--to be my mate yet. I want you to be sure--to know all the details, okay?”

“Sure...whatever you want to make you feel better.”

“Stupid, it’s to make sure you do.”

“Whatever, don’t kid yourself, we both know you’re nervous about this,” she teased.

“Well yea! I’m not gonna listen to you bitch the rest of our lives about how I fucked over yours.”

“Inuyasha,” she warned.

“Keh, don’t worry about it--I’ll listen to you complain and whine about anything else.”

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed and he laughed. LAUGHED. “What have you done with my Inuyasha?”

“Wench,” he warned teasingly. “Let me just tell you how seeing you back in your body has given me a whole new take on life. What’s that saying? ‘Separation makes the heart grow fonder’? The fear of losing you, I just--I swore I would be honest with you. I know we may have a war coming up with this Naraku freak but--I--”

“I get it, Inuyasha. I understand. I feel the same.”

“Do you?”

“I love you, Inuyasha. I--I don’t know how, why, or when it started… but I do.”

“I--fuck it--” he cut himself off by grasping her face and pulling her back into a fierce kiss that she excitedly returned. Even though his tongue traced her lips and she opened her mouth, accepting him and even returning the gesture as she sought to scrape her tongue against his fangs, the kiss remained tame. It was hot. It could have easily made her forget her virtues and what he wanted, but she held herself back on what little thread she could.

“Mmmm,” she hummed as he pulled away.

“I’m serious about waiting. I--I would like to court you. If you’ll allow me.”

“We can work out all the details later,” she smiled softly.

“Deal,” he said, sealing their agreement with another kiss.

#inuyasha x kagome #inu x kag #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #soulmate au #one shot #thank god this is done

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