Tumgik
#:Sneaky stop being a better woman than me" challenge
suicidalityy · 3 years
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Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Subaru Route ー Chapter 3
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ー The scene starts on Glimmer Main Street
Subaru: Haah...What will that old geezer make us do next?
Yui: Based on what we had to do yesterday...I’m fairly sure today’s task will be a challenge as well.
ー An old lady walks past them
Yui: ( Hm...? )
Female Vampire E: Haah...This is bad...
Yui: ( That old lady looks troubled by something...? I wonder what happened? )
Selection
→ Reach out (☾)
Yui: Um, excuーー 
Subaru: Oi.
Yui: Subaru-kun...
Subaru: You’re not gonna talk to her, are you?
Yui: Eh? ...That was the plan though...
Subaru: You know the situation we’re in, right? We have somewhere to go, remember.
Yui: That’s true, but...I can’t just ignore it when there’s someone in need right before me...
Subaru: A person in need, you say...?
...
...Haah, fine. Be my guest.
...Seems like you’re still the literal definition of a kind soul.
→ Walk past her
Yui: ( I’d love to help but...We don’t really have the time for that right now... )
Subaru: Hm? Oi, what’s wrong? Let’s get going already.
Yui: Y-Yeah...
Female Vampire E: Haah...What am I going to do?
Yui: ( ...Uu... )
( I can’t just turn a blind eye to someone in need after all...! ) 
ー Yui runs over to the lady
Yui: Um...Is something the matter, Ma’am?
Female Vampire E: Aah...Miss. Well, I seem to have dropped my dear handkerchief...
Yui: I see. I’ll help you look for it!
Subaru: Geez...Guess I have no other choice...
*TIMESKIP*
Yui: ( Looking for a handkerchief might be more tricky than I thought... )
Subaru: Oi, it’s not over here.
Yui: Yeah...I haven’t found it yet either.
( I wonder if it got blown away by the wind...? ーー Ah! )
Couldn’t it be the thing stuck on that bench over there!?
Female Vampire E: Oh dear! It is!
Subaru: Haah...You finally found it? Then hurry up and graーー 
*Flap flap flap*
Yui: Ah...!
( A bird...! )
Subaru: Hey! Wait!
*Flap flap flap*
Yui: ( It flew away with the handkerchief in its beak... )
Subaru: Che...It’s sittin’ on a rooftop... 
Yui: ...I’ll go look for a ladder...!
Subaru: Aah, wait. The idea of you using a ladder is way too risky, I don’t think I could handle it.
...Haah. I’ll go grab it, so just stay put here, ‘kay?
I don’t need a ladder to reach that high...It literally takes one second if I fly.
...There...
ー Subaru leaps up into the air
Yui: ...Ah, Subaru-kun...
*TIMESKIP*
*Thud*
Subaru: ...Here you go. This’ll do, right?
Yui: ( Ah, in Subaru-kun’s hand is...! )
Female Vampire E: Yes, this is it! Thank you so much, you two. 
This handkerchief truly means a lot to me...So you helped me out immensely. Thank you so much. 
Yui: ( She seems very happy. I’m glad I reached out for her! )
*TIMESKIP*
Yui: Ah...Sorry we got a bit sidetracked, Subaru-kun...But still, thanks.
Subaru: ...Haah. You baffle me every time with how much of a goodie-two-shoes you are...
...But well...If you don’t mind that, I won’t stop you either.
Yui: Sure...?
( Usually he’d call me out on that kind of behavior...I wonder what has gotten into him today? )
Subaru: Anyway, we’re done now, right? Let’s go.
ー The scene shifts to Rubien canal
Gondolier A: ーー Off we go!
Yui: ( ...Today’s task involves retrieving a certain crystal from an abandoned mine inside a volcano. )
( ...Sounds like quite the struggle... )
Subaru: Oi, what was your problem earlier?
Yui: Eh? What do you mean?
Subaru: You seemed surprised after I said ‘let’s go’, remember? I’m referrin’ to that.
Yui: Ah...
( When we were told we have to head to a volcano today... )
( I was sure Subaru-kun would protest, but he just immediately responded with ‘let’s go’... )
Ah...Right. Please don’t get mad when I say this but...
I figured you wouldn’t like the idea of having to go all the way to a volcano.
However, you immediately rolled with it, hence why I was a little surprised...
Subaru: ...Hmph.
...Everyone has different things they consider valuable, regardless of whether others feel the same way, right? 
I finally understood that.
Yui: ...?
Subaru: Take that clown mask the old geezer wanted, for example. 
Or the handkerchief that old lady was lookin’ for.
Yui: Subaru-kun...
Subaru: Also...I’m sure that from an outsider’s perspective...What you mean to me...
Would fall under that same category as well, right?
Yui: ...
( How sneaky of him to suddenly say such things... )
( It’s embarrassing but...I feel as if my love for him has only grown. )
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the lake
Gondolier A: We’ve arrived at Tilkeys lake!
Yui: ( Phew...Seems like we’ve reached our destination. )
( Now we just have to head towards the volcano up ahead. )
Subaru: Haah...We’re finally here, huh...?
Yui: I thought you’d suggest we’d fly here instead of taking the gondola.
Subaru: Yeah...That thought crossed my mind as well, but I might need to save my energy for later, no?
Yui: ( Fufu...Seems like Subaru-kun is taking these tasks much more serious now. )
ー The two of them start walking
Yui: If I recall correctly, there should be a volcano on the other side of the water, right?
Subaru: That’s what the old geezer told us.
Yui: In that case, let’s just keep on walking straight aheaーー
ー The people around them grow restless
Yui: ...
Subaru: ...
Yui: ( It caught my attention earlier but there sure are a lot of couples around this lake... )
( I guess it can’t be helped since it seems to be a tourist attraction... )
T-There’s quite a few couples, huh...?
Subaru: Che...They’re annoyin’...
Yui: ( However, we can’t get to the volcano if we don’t go past them... )
Subaru: Oi, Yui.
ー Subaru suddenly pulls her close
*Rustle*
Yui: Wah...!
( He pulled me close...!? )
Subaru: We won’t stand out if we walk like this, right?
Yui: P-Probably not but...It’s embarrassing...!
Subaru: From their point of view, we’re...no different from them, you know.
Don’t let it bother you. Let’s go.
Yui: Y-Yeah...
ー The scene shifts to the entrance of the mine
Yui: Ah, seems like we can get inside through there.
Street vendor: ーー One second, you two.
Subaru: Ah?
Street vendor: You’re going inside?
Subaru: What if we are?
Street vendor: Oh no...But if you do, you better take one of these with you.
Yui: Are those...marshmallows...?
Um...Why do we need marshmallows to enter the volcano?
Street vendor: ...You see, there’s a certain tale being told around these parts...
Yui: A tale...
Monologue
ーー What we were told afterwards,
was the sad tale,
regarding this Smaragd volcano.
In the past...Due to the many mining resources,
available in this area,
mining for minerals flourished. 
On a fateful day, one of the miners,
fell in love with a Wraith (2),
who lived in the underground lake.
A Wraith and a Vampire,
made somewhat of an odd duo,
but to be able to live alongside her,
the man tricked a female Vampire,
and offered her body to the Wraith.
Why, you might ask? ...Per tradition,
Wraiths are not allowed to leave the place they were born,
unless they take control of the body of another being.
If they try and leave,
they will simply fade away.
Despite the many unfamiliarities which came with it,
 the two of them lived happily.
While living amongst Vampires,
the only thing the Wraith grew fond of...
were marshmallows. 
...However, 
their happiness was short-lived.
One day,
the original owner of the body she had possessed,
regained her consciousnessーー 
And killed the man.
Shaking with anger,
the Wraith killed the woman, who had been her vessel,
before vanishing herself.
To this day, the man’s spirit,
continues to look for the Wraith they once loved,
wandering around inside this volcano...
The fellow Wraiths,
as if they chose to carry on their lost comrade’s legacy,
have also taken a liking to marshmallows...
Yui: ...
( I had no idea this volcano is linked to such a sad story... )
Subaru: Hmph. In other words, if we run into one of those Wraiths, we just have to give them these as a snack?
I bet it’s just some urban legend, right? Ridiculous...
ー Subaru walks away
Yui: Ah, Subaru-kun, wait...!
( It might just be a made-up story but... )
Um...Excuse me? Could I get some marshmallows while I’m here, please?
Street vendor: Of course. I’ll pray you don’t run into any Wraiths. 
Yui: Thank you very much.
( Okay. I have to go after Subaru-kun...! )
ー The scene shifts to the inside of the mine
Yui: ( Where did he run off to...? )
( I don’t think he could be that far ahead... )
Subaru: ーー I knew it.
Yui: Wah! Subaru-kun!?
Geez...It gives me a heart attack when you appear out of nowhere like that...
Subaru: Knowing you, I bet you bought some marshmallows first before coming inside of here?
I figured that might be the case, so I waited for you here.
Yui: I-I see...
Subaru: You actually believe that story from earlier?
It’s just some obvious sales trick (3) to try and get us to buy his marshmallows, no?
Yui: It might be but...You know, better be safe than sorry...Right?
Subaru: ...Haah.
Whatever. Let’s just look for that crystal now.
Yui: He told us it glimmers and lights up, right?
Subaru: Yeah...According to the old geezer, we might find it by searching this rock surface.
Seems like they’ve conveniently got the mining tools all laid out for us.
*Rustle*
*Cling*
Subaru: I’ll use this to chip away at the wall so you look for the crystal.
Yui: Yeah, I’ll try my best!
*TIMESKIP*
*CLING*
Subaru: Haah...haah...
Yui: ( Hm...We’ve been searching for quite some time now... )
( But it doesn’t seem like we’ll find it any time soon... )
( On top of that... )
...Uu...
( Perhaps I’m paranoid after listening to that story from earlier but...For some reason, this place really gives me the creeps. )
*Rustle*
???: Fufu...Ufufufu...
Yui: ...Who’s there...?
*Rustle*
ー A strong gust of wind blows
Yui: ( There’s nobody... )
( Am I just hearing things...? But I could have sworn someone was there... )
Subaru: Oi, what’s wrong?
Ah...Subaru-kun...For some reason, this place has been creeping me out...
Subaru: ...Well, this isn’t the most fun place to be at.
Yui: Yeah...
Subaru: ...Let’s take a small break. You brought some food with you, right?
Yui: Ah...Yes! I got us some sandwiches on the way.
*Rustle rustle*
Yui: ...Here, this one’s yours!
Subaru: Yeah...Thanks.
*TIMESKIP*
Yui: Phew...That hit the spot.
( While the location is somewhat unsettling, this feels like we’re having a picnic together, it’s honestly kind of fun...! )
...I should have brought dessert with me as well.
Subaru: Ah? But we do, don’t we?
Yui: Eh?
Subaru: You got them at the entrance earlier, didn’t you? ...Those marshmallows.
Yui: You’re going to eat those!? I think it’d be better if we have those on hand just in case a Wraith shows up...
Subaru: Oh come on, I’ve been tellin’ you that crap is just some urban legend, haven’t I?
Yui: You think so...?
( But well...I guess it’s better to eat them than to have to end up throwing them away... )
Hold on...
*Rustle rustle*
Huh...?
Subaru: Oi, what’s wrong?
Yui: I can’t seem to find them...
Subaru: Hm...Didn’t you drop them somewhere?
Yui: ...
( Don’t tell me...Did a Wraith actually take them...? )
( In that case, I’m glad I bought some just like that person advised us to... )
Subaru: ...What’s wrong? Did you want to eat marshmallows that badly?
Yui: Ah...No. That’s not it, but...
( I’ll just keep this to myself... )
( It’s not like I have concrete proof that they were taken by a Wraith... )
( If the story we were told is true, it might be best to just quietly let it pass. )
Subaru: ...? You weirdo. Whatever. We should get back to work soon.
*TIMESKIP*
*Cling*
Subaru: ...Haah...!
Yui: Subaru-kun, how are things looking on your end...?
Subaru: No luck...I did find this rare-looking gem instead though.
But it’s not the one that old geezer wants...
Here, it’s this one.
Yui: Waah, it’s so pretty.
( It changes color depending on the angle! Wow...! )
( But this isn’t what we’re looking for... )
Subaru: ...
Yui: ( Subaru-kun has been staring at the gem in his hand this whole time, it seems. )
...Fufu, I see no harm in taking it home with us to remember this day?
It doesn’t look like the type of gemstone you’d find every day!
Subaru: Y-Yeah...Good point.
*Rustle*
Yui: So...What are we going to do now...?
( We can’t just keep on aimlessly searching around forever... )
???: Fufu...Ufufufu...
Yui: ...!
( That voice just now...It’s the same one I heard earlier...! )
( Are there really Wraiths living here...? Oh no, we’re all out of marshmallows too... )
Subaru: ...What was that voice just now?
Yui: You noticed as well...?
Subaru: Yeah. I could hear it from behind us.
Yui: Yeah...Let’s try heading into that direction.
ー They follow the voice
Subaru: ...Around here, maybe...?
Now that you mention it, I did read this one fairytale from the Demon World when I was a kid...
In one of those stories, their dog barked to mark a location and they found a treasure buried underneath.
Does that ring a bell?
Yui: Eh? Y-Yeah...It’s a famous story after all... (4)
Subaru: This might just be...a similar case...!
...Let’s try diggin’ here.
*Cling*
Subaru: ...Ugh...!
*Cling*
*Crumble*
*THUD*
Yui: Ah! Subaru-kun, look!! Couldn’t it be that one over there...!?
Subaru: You’re right..It’s blue in color just like that old geezer said...
Yui: Waah! Thank god we were able to find it!
Subaru: Haah...Geez, finally...
But...Well, I guess it was worth goin’ through all the trouble...
Yui: Yes.
( Hm...? Then the Wraith’s voice from earlier...? Could she have been trying to thank us for the marshmallows...? )
Subaru: We were able to find the crystal, so I guess we should leave now.
Yui: Good idーー
*Flap flap*
Subaru: Aah...?
Yui: What was...that sound...?
*CAW*
*Flap flap*
Yui: Eh...An eagle...!?
Subaru: Haah!? Where did it come from!? ...Wait, fuck...It’s comin’ our way...!
*CAW*
Subaru: ...! Watch out...!!
*Thud*
Yui: Are you okay!?
( ...Did it target the gem in Subaru-kun’s hand just now...? )
Subaru: Oi oi...Are you after this gemstone perhaps...?
We went through hell and back to find it, so no way I’m handin’ it over!
Let’s make a run for it!
ー The two of them start running
*Flap flap*
*CAW*
Subaru: Che...It’s comin’ after us again!
Yui: Ah, Subaru-kun! There’s a rail cart over there...!
Subaru: Guess we have to use that to get out of here...!
ー They head towards the rail cart.
Subaru: Oi, hold onto this crystal.
*Thud*
Yui: Yeah...!
( I’ll put it in my pocket so I don’t drop it... )
Subaru: Kuh...
Get...movin’...!
*Rattle rattle*
*Thud*
Subaru: Awesome, it’s runnin’!
Is that eagle still comin’ after us?
*Flap flap*
*CAW*
Yui: Yeah...Seems like it set its sights on this gem after all...
*Flap flap*
Subaru: Che...That fuckin’ geezer! He didn’t mention this...!
*Flap flap*
Yui: Ah...! Subaru-kun, watch out...!
Subaru: Fuck...! Oi, you stay down. Don’t you dare raise your head!
*Rustle*
Yui: Y-Yeah...
*Flap flap*
*CAW*
Subaru: Che...You persistent pest! Buzz off!
*Cling*
Yui: Subaru-kun! Don’t push yourself too much...!
Subaru: Yeah, I know...! ...Uwoh...!? 
*Thud*
Yui: Eh...!?
( The eagle...Grabbed hold of him...!? )
Subaru: ...Kuh...Oi...Let go of me...!!
*CAW*
Subaru: ...Ugh!!
Yui: Ah...!!
Subaru: Yui...!!
Yui: No way...Subaru-kun!?
( Subaru-kun fell inside the ravine...!! I have to go save him...But what can I...? )
*Rumble rumble*
Yui: W-What now...!? The ground’s rumbling...?
*Creaaak*
Yui: Eh...!?
( The wagon’s tilted to the side...At this rate it’ll fall...!? )
...Kyaah...!?
ー She falls down
Yui: ( Oh no...At this rate, I won’t even live to get my heart back... )
( ... )
Subaru: ーー Yui!
Yui: ( Eh...? )
*Rustle*
Yui: ( My body is...floating...? )
Subaru...kun...?
Subaru: You’re fine now! Hang on tight!
Yui: Yeah...!
*Thud*
ー The scene shifts to a cave
Yui: Haah, haah...
We made it out...unharmed somehow...?
Subaru: Yeah...Seems like it.
Yui: ( But...Where are we? It looks like a cave of some sorts... )
...
( What’s happening...!? I can barely...breathe...!? ) 
Subaru: Che...Seems like we fell pretty far down...
We have to get out of here before you suffocate to death...!
ー The scene shifts to the underground lake
Subaru: Haah...Oi, are you okay...?
Yui: Just barely...!
( So there’s a lake underground... )
Subaru: Oi, you still have the gem on you, right?
*Rustle*
Yui: Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve got it.
Subaru: Perfect...Let’s get out of here at once then.
I don’t want to stay here any longer and run into trouble again.
Then afterwards...
...Don’t ever leave my side again, ‘kay? Who knows what waits ahead of us.
Yui: Yeah...!
*Rumble rumble*
Subaru: ...Hold up. Something’s...comin’...
Yui: ( This sound...Could it be the rumbling of the ground again...!? )
*SPLASH*
Subaru: ...Water...!?
Yui: Ah...The quakes from earlier might be what is causing the lake to flood...
Subaru: Che...It’s just one problem after the other...!
ー The water flows their way
Yui: Kyaah!?
( We’re being swept away..!? )
Subaru: Oi, hold onto me!!
*Rustle*
Subaru: Don’t you dare let go of my hand!
*Splash*
Yui: ( We...made it out alive...? )
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Yui: Cough...cough...
Subaru: Oi...Are you alright?
Yui: Ah...Yes. I swallowed a little water, but I don’t seem to have any injuries.
I’m sure it’s because you protected me.
Subaru: H-Haah!? The fuck are you sayin’...!?
Yui: Eh? ...What do you mean? You proteーー
Subaru: Aah, shut up! Not another word!
Fuck...
Yui: ( Ah...Subaru-kun looked away... )
But it’s really all thanks to you that I was able to safely make it back out.
Thank you for saving me.
Subaru: ...
...Hmph.
Yui: ...We ran into several problems but...
It’s good we got out safe and sound, right?
Subaru: There’s nothin’ good ‘bout this shit. Honestly...We went through hell and back.
I don’t wanna go through that ever again.
Yui: Fufu...I agree.
*Thud*
Subaru: Anyway...Let’s go to the old geezer’s place already.
I’m gonna snap if he calls us out on takin’ too long again.
ー Subaru nearly trips
Subaru: ...
Yui: Ah, Subaru-kun, are you okay...!?
Subaru: I just felt a little shaky in my step. Don’t worry ‘bout it.
Don’t be worryin’ ‘bout someone else when you’re totally worn out yourself.
Yui: Y-Yeah...
( Even if he says that, I can’t help but be concerned... )
*TIMESKIP*
*Rustle*
Yui: ( Nn... )
ー Yui wakes up in the hotel room
Yui: ( Huh...? Where am I...? This isn’t...the anitque shop, right...? The hotel room...? )
( I remember heading from the lake towards the antique shop together with Subaru-kun... )
*Rustle*
Subaru: Nn...Ahー Fuck...My muscles sore...
Wait...Hah? Why are we at the hotel...!?
Yui: ( Thank god...Seems like Subaru-kun has woken up as well. )
Say, I wonder how we made it back here?
Subaru: Who knows...I can only remember up until the point we left for the old geezer’s place.
Yui: ( I guess Subaru-kun’s in the same boat, huh...? ...Hm? )
*Flip*
Yui: ( Oh? There’s a note on the bedside table... )
Subaru: What’s that? A note? Give me that for a sec.
ーー The requested gemstone has been successfully retrieved. 
Make sure to get plenty of rest today so you’re ready for the final task tomorrow.
...Furthermore, next time I find you two passed out in front of my store, I’m throwing you out on the sidewalk like that so you have been warned. 
...That’s what it says.
Yui: Ah...I see...We must have collapsed in front of the store.
Subaru: Geez...Who’s fault does he think that is!?
Fuck...! That older geezer needs to watch his words...!
Haah...I’m gonna sleep. You should rest up soon as well. Tomorrow’s the last day after all.
*Creaak*
Yui: Yeah, I will.
( Today sure was something else but...I had fun. )
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
Translation notes
(1) 話 or ‘hanashi’ is more of a general term which simply means ‘talk’ or ‘story’. However, given the contents of the story, I thought ‘tale’ was a fitting term in English. 
(2) A Wraith is a type of ghost or spirit, originally from Scottish Folklore. They are said to be the embodiment of souls who are either on the verge of death, or who have recently passed on.
(3) 子供騙し or ‘kodomo-damashi’ literally means a trick/trap only children would fall for.
(4) I did a quick google search and Subaru is mostly referring to the Japanese folklore tale: Hanasaka Jiji. 
← RETURN TO CHAPTER 2
→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 4]
→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ KANATO]
→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ RUKI]
→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/SHIN]
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marshmallow-phd · 3 years
Text
Scarlet Moon
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Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU
Pairing: OC x EXO OT9
Summary:  This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.
Part: 1 I 2 I 3
                                        ********
The bright sun felt warm against Gwen’s skin. Chae Ryung half-heartedly chastised her about burning her face, but Gwen hardly gave a listen. It felt like it had been years since she’d simply stopped and took in the light. All she ever did was go to work, do her schoolwork, and watch dramas. She never really took much time for simply… being. After a minute or so, Chase Ryung convinced her to keep walking through the courtyard, but she still went slow, taking in everything.  
The other servants would stop in the middle of their work and glance at Gwen in a fashion they might have thought was sneaky, but was, in fact, fairly obvious. Some gave looks of concern, others, it felt like, of awe. Gwen ran her fingers through her hair, the red catching in the sunlight. She stuck out more here than she ever did back home and it made her stomach queasy. 
“So, Chae Ryung,” Gwen finally said, “what is it that I usually do during the day?”
“All day?” she echoed. She pursed her lips side to side as she thought. “Mostly you keep Lady Hae company. She’s a bit lonely as Prince Suho’s wife. You’re the closest to her station here.”
Suho. An interesting name for a prince. I remembered Papa inquiring after the pale but beautiful woman in ornate clothing. “And she’s sick?”
Chae Ryung nodded sorrowfully. After looking over her shoulder, she lowered her voice as she leaned in. “Some are worried that she doesn’t have much longer and the prince still doesn’t have an heir.”
“Is it that bad?” 
Chae Ryung nodded again. Gwen’s heart went out to the beautifully tragic woman. In the single moment she’d met the Lady of the household, Gwen could tell that she had a kind heart. The look of worry and concern was etched in her mind, not a single twitch giving away possible deception. Spending her days with Lady Hae didn’t seem like too terribly a time. Perhaps she could be another person to lean on, to help Gwen when she stumbled. Because she would certainly be stumbling every other step in this place. 
Gwen and Chae Ryung wandered around the grounds for hours, the latter filling Gwen in on what she couldn’t put together for herself. 
Apparently, this Gwen had had a tendency to be a bit rambunctious, taking liking to archery just as much as needlework. Often, she would be caught joining in the servant boys in whatever rough game they were playing that day. Not exactly a good look for the daughter of a wealthy merchant. It had to be a comical sight, the horrified looks this girl must have produced from the other women around the household as a child. But over the last few years, she’d calmed to be a bit more demure. Chae Ryung went into explaining the wide gray area Gwen was given as an outsider. Though this girl knew the rules of society, she was able to bend them ever so slightly. 
Excellent. 
Coming up on the path was a pond, round and expanding, the edges lined with tall grass and fresh flowers that gave off calming scents. A family of little ducks floated on top of the clear water. Fish in bright colors of oranges and yellows swam freely, their tails creating the slightest ripples on the surface. As they walked around the water, Chae Ryung described a beautiful gazebo that this Gwen apparently loved to hide away in when she wanted to be alone. Disappointingly, though, the gazebo was already occupied by the Prince and Lady Hae. 
Looking like a happy but conservative couple, they drank tea together and spoke softly. Prince Suho smiled at his wife as he brought the teacup to his lips, but as his eyes drifted over to the spot where Gwen stood, the smile changed. 
It deepened, almost. An uncomfortable feeling settled in Gwen’s stomach. She smiled back, though, and waved, to remain polite. She was probably reading into things or misunderstanding them. Prince Suho held back a laugh before turning back to his wife. She still didn’t fully understand the dynamics of this world and could easily misinterpret his actions. And her head still slightly throbbed, so that could be clouding her thoughts as well. 
“It’s inappropriate to stare at a married couple’s private moments,” a high voice snipped. 
Confused, Gwen turned to find an elegantly dressed girl close to her age. Or, rather, this body’s age since this Gwen was a few years younger than the body she’d left behind. 
This new girl’s face was pretty, but it was destroyed by the snobbish and self-satisfied look she wore. Chae Ryung bowed deeply, but Gwen stayed erect. Bowing was not something that came as second nature to her and she didn’t want to do it for just anyone. Not surprisingly, this defiance deepened the annoyance on the girl’s face even more. Sensing danger, Chae Ryung forced Gwen into a bow.
“Greetings, Your Highness,” Chae Ryung said with a shaky voice. She gave Gwen a pointed glance that was ignored. 
“Apparently, not only have you forgotten your memories, but the few manners you ever had as well,” her highness sniffed. “I would be happy to be your teacher. Maybe we can make you a more respectful person this time around.” 
“Perhaps we have two different definitions of respect.”
It was subtle, but the girl’s smile strained, stiffening and tightening in the corners. Gwen knew that irritated look all too well from high school. The girls of the popular crowd would often shift into this body language whenever Gwen ignored their insults or countered them with a response they weren’t expecting. It had made her extremely unpopular, but that was never important to her. All she ever cared about was getting out and graduating. It was sad that mean girls had existed back in this time as well.  
“How dare you speak to me that way,” the girl hissed. “You think because you’re a freak of nature you can do and say as you please?”
“Just because I look different from you doesn’t mean that I’m a freak of nature!” Gwen shouted. Her nails dug into her palms as she tried to reign in the urge to respond physically. That particular subject had always been a sore spot for her. She didn’t think she was ugly, per se, but she wasn’t a beauty. Society’s standards, as ever changing as they were, always felt too far out of her reach. “Pretty” was not something she ever saw in the mirror. And, unfortunately, this body held the same face. 
“What is going on here?”
Gwen stiffened at the Prince’s voice behind her. Slowly, she turned around and bowed deeply. Prince Suho had abandoned his wife at the gazebo to investigate. She hadn’t meant to ruin his date, especially since they probably didn’t get many moments like this. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness.”
Prince Suho looked past her to the girl and then back at Gwen. “Perhaps, it’s best for you to go back inside, Lady Gwen. I don’t want you to tire yourself out and I fear it might get colder. ”
Nodding, Gwen bowed again and walked away. There was no point in arguing. Besides, she didn’t want to hang around this self-important girl, who she didn’t dare give a passing glance to and give her the satisfaction of besting her. Once out of sight, however, Gwen’s bravado deflated. 
“Who was that girl?” She bit her bottom lip in a very unladylike manner as she slouched against the outer wall of a red-painted building. 
Chae Ryung tutted nervously. “That was Princess Yeon Hwa. You’re lucky that her brother stepped in.”
That girl was Prince Suho’s sister? Gwen shuddered, feeling sorry for Suho since he had to be related to her. “Mom always said I was too spiteful. But I wasn’t being disrespectful by looking for five seconds. They just looked like a scene out of a movie.”
“A movie?”
Oh, crap. There you go again. “A novel. I meant a novel. They looked like a scene from a book.”
“Oh!” Chae Ryung nodded, though she wore an expression of confusion. “Still it would have been better to apologize and walk away.”
Gwen shrugged. “Maybe next time.” 
Looking up at the blue sky, Gwen wanted to pout. It was such a nice day. Even with these layers of clothes, she wasn’t too hot and a nice breeze played with her hair. But Prince Suho had told her to go inside. He must have figured she would cause less trouble there. He also said it might get colder. Gwen hated being cold. 
“When I have to stay inside, where do I like to go?” she asked as she looked ot her friend. 
Chae Ryung grinned from ear to ear. She seemed excited as she took hold of Gwen’s wrist and pulled her along to a building near the middle of the compound. It wasn’t a large building, with spaces barely able to be called rooms. That hardly deterred the excitement bubbling up in Gwen’s chest. 
Inside were wooden shelves, thin and easily seen through. But unlike the thick, hardbound novels Gwen was used to, the books stacked here were thinner, flimsy and held together with twine. Another servant girl shuffled up before they stepped into the room. Chae Ryung was needed elsewhere. She urged Gwen to go on ahead and stay at the library for a few hours. 
Within the shelves, she lost herself. 
Reading was always a comfort to Gwen, but she tended to lean towards adventurous fiction filled with romance and challenge. She doubted she would find such stories in the Prince’s library. If she could even read these manuscripts. 
Gwen blinked, reflecting on her presence here. Somehow, she was able to communicate with the others despite the fact that they weren’t speaking English. The real Gwen’s knowledge - at least, with speaking and reading - somehow had remained behind. As her eyes drifted over the Chinese characters written on the spines, she understood what they said. A small laugh escaped her lips. She’d always wanted to know more than one language. All it took was being transported back in time to a different body. 
From what Gwen could make out of the titles of the volumes, they were mostly science based - medical treatments and catalogs of animals and plants - along with a few recorded histories. There were no fictional stories to be found, so Gwen went for the next best thing and grabbed a book that recounted the story of how King Taejo founded Goryeo. 
The wording was a bit dry and straight forward, the author giving only the occasional flourish here and there. Still, like any written word, it absorbed her attention. To receive a recount of history from a source so close to the time that it happened was not to be taken lightly. Gwen walked through the aisles as she read, unaware that another visitor had arrived. In the middle of a sentence about a deciding battle, her pacing was stopped by a soft wall. She looked up and sucked in her breath. 
Prince Suho.
She bowed, thinking that her back would start aching from all this bending over. “I’m sorry, again, for earlier,” she whispered. It was a sincere apology. Though it wasn’t her fault, she’d egged it on and caused the Prince trouble, which in turn could cause trouble for this Gwen’s father. Both men had been kind to her since she woke up and she didn’t want to repay that kindness by being a burden. 
Instead of acknowledging her apology, Prince Suho asked, “Do you really not remember anything?”
Gwen shook her head, unable to meet his eye. She could feel his gaze seering onto her face, however. Warmth tickled at her cheeks and she hoped that it wasn’t a visible heat. The Prince was handsome, with a strong chin and kind eyes. He spoke softly.
“Do you remember why you were at the bathhouse?”
Gwen snapped her head up, confused. Why would he be asking her about a bathhouse? “The bathhouse?” She knew nothing about a bathhouse or what this Gwen would be doing there. 
He sighed. “Truly?” Did he not believe her? Did he think she was faking it to avoid getting into trouble? 
“I-” she stopped. Would she be punished for something she didn’t even do? She tried to be as sincere and honest as possible. She didn’t know what could be done to her if he didn’t believe her. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Prince Suho didn’t look receptive to her answer, but he backtracked anyway as he looked away. “Perhaps I was merely seeing things,” he murmured to himself. Regaining eye contact, he took a step to shorten the space between them. “When I invited you and your father to stay here, I took it upon myself to look after you, knowing your foreignness would make you a target. I’m afraid I’ve neglected on that duty. It has caused Lady Hae great worry.”
Gwen took a step back, her hands behind her back. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I think I’m causing you more trouble than I’m worth. I promise, I’ll watch my steps from now on. The last thing I want is to be in the way. If you need anything, I’ll do it. I want to be a help, not a burden.” He nodded, the expression on his face softening slightly. Feeling the conversation was over with that last declaration, she bowed and scurried out of the library after replacing the historical text. 
With that haven now compromised, Gwen concluded the best place for her to go was back to her room until dinner. 
                                                    ********
After a few days of managing to stay out of trouble, Gwen ran into Lady Hae on one of her leg-stretching walks. She didn’t seem to be upset about the incident at the gazebo, though she was disappointed that Gwen hadn’t come to see her. Gwen stumbled through an apology, not realizing that she would be so missed. In fact, she thought she was doing everyone a favor by staying out of the way. 
Accepting the apology, Lady Hae asked if Gwen would like to learn how to make lotus lanterns for the upcoming festival. Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise. Thinking it would be fun and distracting, she agreed and followed Lady Hae to one of the buildings with open walls that allowed a gentle breeze to keep them cool. The temperature hadn’t dropped like Prince Suho had predicted. When Gwen saw who was already at work in the building, she instantly regretted her decision to join. A groan was barely suppressed as she sat down beside Lady Hae.
“Lady Hae, I see you brought a friend,” Yeon Hwa sneered cheerfully. 
It took willpower, but Gwen managed to ignore the princess’s snide remark, instead focusing on Lady Hae’s explanation of how to put the lanterns together. The glue had a potent smell that stung at Gwen’s nose. No wonder they were in a building that allowed the air to drift in and out. It took a few poor looking lanterns for her to get the hang of it, but finally they looked worthy of being hung up for other people to see. Glancing over at Yeon Hwa’s, Gwen huffed internally. Though they were the same design, the princess’ were begrudgingly far superior.
“Lady Gwen,” Yeon Hwa called out. A faux-sweet smile stretched across her lips. “Why don’t you go take the dry lanterns and put them in the Moon building for storage until the festival?” 
Gwen returned a smile just as fake. “Of course.” 
Chae Ryung, who had joined the group soon after Gwen’s arrival, stepped forward. “I can take them, my lady.”
 “Lady Gwen is perfectly capable of carrying them herself,” Yeon Hwa snapped. The evil look gleamed in her eyes, as if she were punishing Gwen with such menial labor. 
Little did she know the request didn’t bother Gwen in the slightest. She was giving the perfect excuse to leave her presence. While making the lanterns, Gwen’s mind had wandered towards the village beyond the walls and - with everyone occupied here – sneaking out on her own should be easy enough. She wanted to see more of this world that she now resided in. 
Filling up her arms with as much as they could carry, Gwen shuffled up the hill, following the directions Chae Ryung had given to the Moon building. 
“Gwen, you’re out of your room.”
Papa walked up, a smile on his face causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He seemed out of place in the Goryeo fashion he donned, yet comfortable as the shiny fabric swayed around his legs. He wore the hanbok with dignity and ease. Back home, Gwen prefered less complicated clothing and was still adjusting to the multilayered dresses that needed an extra pair of hands to put on.
“Yes,” Gwen said. “I was helping Lady Hae make lanterns for the festival.” She held them up proudly for him to see.
“Those are very beautiful,” he complimented. Gwen’s smile stretched farther across her lips at the praise. “I’m happy to see that you’re getting back to your old self.”
The joy in his eyes was almost too overwhelming. Gwen thought back to her own father, with whom she was close. They seemed so much alike. Tears threatened to brim her eyes. Within the last few days, she’d grown an affection for this man. He was patient with her and caring. And, as an outsider himself, a small connection that she clung to. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Papa.”
“I have some business to oversee at the house. Please, stay out of trouble.” He gave her a kiss on the head and resumed in the direction he was headed before.
Continuing on her own way, Gwen barely reached the steps of the Moon building before a man in brown clothes ran, bowed, and took the lanterns to store them. He must have been a servant in the Prince’s household. She hadn’t seen him before but she gladly handed the lanterns over. Thankful that her task was now over, she waited and watched as the servant hung the lanterns up on a long string inside the open doors. Now it was time to explore. Taking a different path, she headed for the gate.  
This place was certainly different. Monarchies weren't as widespread in her own time, most nations having moved on to people-elected governments instead of blood-appointed kings. Though it was different, Gwen appreciated the underlining respect that drove this culture. The differences in formal and informal speech and the hierarchy of that respect ran deep within the people. The mutual heritage they all shared made her a bit jealous. She was from a place that didn’t have that. 
The sound of drums broke through her thoughts. They were deep, rhythmic, calling out to anyone who wanted to listen. Answering the call, Gwen followed them. 
In a giant dirt courtyard near the palace stood about six figures, some dressed in red, others in black. They were spaced equally apart in a square structure. Gwen hid among the archways, too fascinated to walk away like she should have. The figures danced in unison and with power – except one of the men in red, who was lacking enthusiasm and proper rhythm. The others noticed and stopped their dance, the drums fading out as well. They all stared at the one who had finished incorrectly as he flopped down to the ground. Gwen covered her mouth to soften the giggled. He was throwing a fit. A grown man by the looks of him, he was acting like a spoiled child. Among the figures was Prince Suho, who seemed exasperated at the situation.
So, those must be the other princes. 
This festival must be important, if royalty was performing. Gwen made a mental note to have Chae Ryung explain it in more detail when she went back to the compound.
A few of the princes ganged up on the one on the ground, criticizing him for still getting the moves wrong after such a long practice. Huffing, the one on the ground jumped up. He pointed a long finger and accused another brother of making a mistake as well. Gwen laughed loudly at their altercation, the noise pushing through her fingers. Prince Suho glanced up in her direction. She took off, scared to be caught. 
Once among the common people, Gwen’s mind eased. She wandered around the city, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed. The market was abundant with people. Men gossiped with their friends while the women picked over the vegetables and meats, inspecting for any impurities. Children played loudly and ran through the streets, uncaring if their feet were covered in mud. Different stalls caught Gwen’s attention, some selling soaps and bath grains, others selling intricate hairpins that sparkled under the sun. She made a mental note to ask Papa to come with her next time to buy a few wares. Maybe Chae Ryung could teach her how to place the pins in her hair. 
Leaving behind the market, Gwen came to a small bridge over a shallow river. The water flowed steadily, uninterrupted. She stared down at her blurry reflection, wondering how she could still look so much like herself. There was no railing to obstruct the view, so she bent down for a closer look. 
The face looking back was still round and pale, the soft jaw line giving a youthful appeal. Red hair fell natural, gentle waves that never liked to obey. Not even the multiple hairpins keeping it out of her face could tame it completely. Sea green eyes sat in hooded sockets on either side of a thin nose and average lips. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and apples of her large cheeks from years of sun exposure. Forced to come back to a time that wasn’t hers, the least magic could have done was improve her looks. 
The cries of the villagers reached her ears too late. Searching for the source of the hysterics, Gwen stood and turned as the villagers ducked out of sight. A mad man on a black horse galloped through the market. The rider didn’t care about others around him. He didn’t look back behind him or stop to check on those who dived out of his path. A villager with a traveling pack hanging from his shoulders scurried across the bridge to run away from the rider. In his haste, he knocked into Gwen. She lost her balance, flailing her arms worthlessly, and began to fall into the river that had served as my mirror just moments ago. She closed her eyes and braced for impact with the surly cold water. But it didn’t come.
A steadfast grip snatched her by her waist. When she opened her eyes to see who had saved her from the water, she was face to face with the rider.
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orbitariums · 3 years
Text
winter with a weasley | fred w. + black fem. reader
i was tired of searching high and low for hp imagines with black readers so !! here goes my own :) send me recs of hp writers who write for black girls!!!
reader is a black woman and a ravenclaw!
happy holidays <333
word count: 5k
     The pitter patter of snow could be heard from inside the dimly lit library, wet snowflakes streaking down the window panes of the large window beside you. The night sky was falling upon you, twinkling stars forming around the top of the castle. The air was clear, no fog to be seen, but your eyes were glazing over as if you were in the midst of a fog storm anyway, your nose buried deep in a copy of “Winograd’s Wondrous Water Plants.” You blinked away the sleepiness clouding up your eyesight, stifling a yawn. The candle in front of you threatened to burn out, and you flicked a lazy finger towards it, the flame rising once again. You were grateful for the cozy, thick sweater Luna had knitted you, protecting you from the slight chill that was penetrating the glass window. You pulled it closer to you, though its warmth threatened to make you fall asleep. 
     You had hardly realized that your cheek was dragging against your palm, and that your eyes were feeling droopier than ever, until you were jolted to a start when you heard Harry Potter’s voice from beside you. He was standing at the side of the otherwise empty library table that you were sitting at, a book clutched beneath his arm. 
     “There you are, everyone’s been wondering where you were. Well, mainly Fred,” Harry admitted, his eyes glancing at you, hunched over your book with nothing but candlelight in front of you. “What’re you doing in the library anyway, exams are over.”
You pushed your shoulder blades back, relieving some of the tension in your body from being curled up with books for hours after classes had ended for the winter break. You were slightly relieved to see Harry, as you were starting to get sort of a headache from all the words jumbling up together on the page. You replied with a small smile.
     “Just doing some after-exam review, that’s all. I want to see what I missed, if anything. 
That way I’ll know what to study harder for next time, that’s all,” you shrugged, and Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
     “Just like Hermione,” he noted. “I’m only in here because I’m returning a book. Fred will think you’ve gone mental, studying after exams.”
You chuckled to think of the pink-faced, tousle-haired Weasley twin. He was crazy about you, and everyone knew it. You, on the other hand, were far too focused on your studies to pay him any real attention. He was a distraction, and a horrible one at that— you’d never ace your exams if you were with him, he’d probably have you helping set up him and George’s next prank. Your playfully unamused demeanor towards his advances didn’t stop him anyway, he still teased you and flirted with you every chance he got, because no matter how much you told yourself you shouldn’t have a boyfriend, he always caught how bashful you became at his flirtatious remarks.  
     “Well, he’ll survive, won’t he?” you shook your head playfully, and Harry nodded in the other direction, out of the library.
     “Take a break, we’re having a little party in the common room, you should join us,” Harry suggested, and you took one glance from your books to the lanky boy in front of you before sighing and closing your book. Why not?
     When you clamored through the entrance to the common room after avoiding the Fat Lady’s attempt at a poor rendition of Deck the Halls, you were met with all the holiday cheer you’d ever need for a lifetime. The Gryffindor common room, already in the Christmas spirit with all its red furniture, was draped in Christmas lights and holiday wreaths. The sound of holiday music blasted through the room, bewitched so that it was unable to be heard by passersby, in the hopes that no one would break up their little party. 
     The smell of baked goods wafted past your nose as you entered, and you found your stomach growling— you’d spent lunch studying, hardly eating a thing, and you’d skipped out on dinner to huddle up in the practically deserted library. In the corner of the room was a tree that changed colors each time someone passed by it, and you could see aggravated gnomes shuffling about on one of the window sills, griping about how they were forced into itchy, tiny holiday sweaters. The room was warm and full of Christmas cheer, and you could even spot a student with a permanent drizzle of snow over their head, covered in a coat and a beanie with white flakes spotting the top. 
     You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, covering your mouth with your hand. You were glad Harry had gotten you out, otherwise you’d probably still be in the library half-asleep. This was much, much better, and you weren’t just saying that. You could see Hermione and Ron approaching you, broad grins on their faces.
     “There you are! We were hoping you’d show up,” Hermione gave you a hug, followed by Ron.
     “Harry says you were in the library. Honestly, I don’t understand you two,” Ron said, meaning you and Hermione. 
Hermione rolled her eyes while you just chuckled, though you were promptly distracted,
     “Well, I’m here now. Is that treacle fudge?”
You headed over to the table of food in a hungry daze, your mouth threatening to water the closer you got to it. You were stacking on food onto a holiday themed plate before you knew it, chicken legs smothered with gravy, greens, cornish pasties, pumpkin sandwich cookies, and treacle tart. You were about to grab utensils, your eyes focused on the table below you, until you were barricaded by two all-too-familiar figures on either side of you. You sighed in exasperation, looking up at Fred Weasley, who was in front of you, then turning to George Weasley, who was directly behind you. 
     “Fancy seeing you here!” George exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. 
     “Really, would’ve thought you were gonna be a no-show!” Fred cupped your shoulder with his hand, spinning you to face him.
     “Though, how could he miss you?” George started, making you turn again to face him this time.
     “You positively light up the room when you walk in,” Fred answered George smoothly, spinning you by the shoulder yet again for you to face him.
You were dizzy from the amount of times the twins had you spinning this way and that, but you steadied yourself in enough time to wag your finger disapprovingly at Fred, the main culprit in all this,
     “Must you always surround me?”
You reached for a fork and a knife, but Fred conjured both from his robes pocket, teeth sparkling as he grinned widely at you. 
You rolled your eyes, but took the fork and knife anyway, muttering a thanks.
     “Really though, where were you?” Fred asked, following you even as you walked away, side by side. 
     “The library,” you answered shortly, and Fred stared at you, shaking his head in clear disdain,
     “Honestly, woman, don’t you ever take a break?”
You turned to face him, snickering as you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your treacle fudge,
     “Don’t you ever take a break?”
Fred smirked, poking underneath your chin with a coquettish finger,
     “Not from you.”
You couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks even if the response was corny. Fred Weasley was always quick on his feet, and never one to back down from a challenge. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him in the way he so obviously liked you. It was so amusing to watch, even if it could be annoying— no matter what, Fred was shamelessly, devastatingly in love with you. He wasn’t embarrassed to be turned down, or to show it in the only ways he knew how: through poking fun at you and using the most annoying, yet memorable pick up lines in the book on you. 
     “I’ve noticed,” you cocked your head with a smug expression, and Fred only shook his head, gearing up to say something just as smug as you until he was interrupted by the soft hum of Luna Lovegood’s voice as she zoomed up behind you, happy to see you wearing her sweater.
     “YN!” she exclaimed, her voice wispy and cheerful as usual. 
     You turned to face her, completely dismissing Fred, who decided he’d get you back later. You engulfed her in a hug, and the two of you got to talking, dancing, and sharing a jug of butterbeer that George had smuggled in. 
You had finished the jug and your food, and you were laying back on one of the couches in front of the crackling fireplace, which was roaring high with orange-hued flames. You were tired, but the good kind, not from spending hours hunched over a book this time around, but from partying and eating so much you could hardly move. Ron, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor in front of you, scarfing down another turkey leg. 
      “Honestly, Ron, do you ever stop eating?” Hermione hissed on the floor beside him, and Ron frowned, whining through a mouthful of food,
     “It’s the holidays, Her-my-knee, let me live for once.”
     Apparently, it was now time for the gift giving, which the Weasley twins were in charge of emceeing, and they were making a very big deal of it. Each time someone was up to give a gift, they used their wands as microphones, their voices booming around the room as they called the names of the people meant to collect their gifts from the receiver. Harry had gotten Ron a Chudley Cannons quidditch shirt, you already had Luna’s sweater and you had given her a pair of flying sneakers to make flying that much easier. All the gift-giving and receiving was quite lovely to watch, and everyone ended up satisfied. The twins had made sure no one left empty handed, giving people goodies that would probably turn into toads in an hour or two. 
     “And now, the last present of the night, and we truly do save the best for last,” George announced with a proud, thunderous voice. 
Fred eased up beside George like a sneaky weasel, George throwing an arm around his shoulders. Fred had something in a sparkly, glittering gift bag, and everyone was intrigued, leaning forward to see what it was. 
     “Take it away, Freddy,” George patted Fred’s shoulder, then slinked away so Fred could have the floor all to himself. 
     “This gift goes out to a special someone,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows, deliberately making his voice deeper, and everyone started to hoot lowly. “A certain little smartypants Ravenclaw girl who has my heart.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully and looking away from Fred, who had zeroed in on you. 
     “She’s a bit shy,” Fred joked, making the room erupt in laughter. 
     “Go on!” Luna prodded you, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at you. 
      You lugged yourself up off the couch and got up, making your way over to Fred, who was standing in front of everyone next to the color-changing Christmas tree, which burned a passionate red when you stood in front of Fred. 
     “You idiot,” you remarked playfully, and he only grinned, handing you the bag.
     “See what’s inside, won’t you!” George hollered, and you glared at him before opening the bag. 
     Inside was a flower in a pot full of red soil. Not just any flower, but perhaps the most beautiful flower you’d ever seen. Its leaves, a pale pink color, seemed to shine, light radiating off of the petals and basking your face in a warm glow. The petals were fat and wide, spiraling at the end into little hollow heart shapes, all of which were of varying colors. As it got closer to the center, the colors of the flower grew into deeper myriads of pinks and purples. You had never seen such a plant before, and you were a top herbology student, plants and flowers were your specialty. It was so beautiful, and probably rare as well. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but nothing like this. You were so surprised, you half expected it to be a prank of Fred and George’s, thinking it might transfigure into a mole rat.
     The rest of the students in the packed common room were just as shocked as you were, gasping and whispering amongst themselves, immediately enamoured by the unique beauty of the flower that made cooing noises in your hand like a little puppy. 
     “Fred,” you gasped, looking up at him with widened eyes.
     “Thought it’d fit you, know you’re into plants and all that smart people stuff,” Fred grinned, clearly satisfied with your reaction. 
     “I-it’s amazing, I-”
     “That’s not all, he’s got more for you in the bag!” George cut you off, and Fred shoved him playfully, laughing, 
     “Shut up, you bloke! Let her see for herself.”
     You ruffled through the bag, which was indeed full of your favorite sweets— honeydukes chocolate, pepper imps, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans, chocolate frogs, and more. You could hardly generate a response, your mouth stuck open in an o-shape. You liked Fred, but you didn’t expect this from him.
You chuckled, still shocked, and grinned, bemused,
     “Fred, this really is a lot, I honestly didn’t expect it. I-I don’t know how to thank you!”
Before you knew it, you were lunging forward to embrace him, hugging him tight in front of everyone. He was lucky he could cover his face in your shoulder, because he was red as a tomato. You gazed at the flower in your hands when you pulled away, still entranced by it. 
     “‘M glad you like it,” Fred murmured almost shyly, the first you’d ever heard him sound anything other than cocky.
You frowned, truly feeling terrible— you weren’t expecting anything from Fred, and so you didn’t get him anything. Now you felt horrible, standing there empty handed when he’d just given you the most thoughtful, beautiful gift. 
     “Oh, Fred, I didn’t get you anything!” you bemoaned, your eyebrows furrowing together. “I feel horrible.”
     “‘S alright, you’ll make it up to me,” Fred smirked, leaning back against the wall of the fireplace and folding his arms. 
The room filled with a plethora of suggestive “oohs” and “ahhs”, and when you turned to face Ron, you saw he had gone red from watching his brother flirt with you, meanwhile Harry was stifling a laugh, and Ginny was burying her face in her knees while Hermione rolled her eyes. You looked back over at Fred and couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head slowly. 
     “I just might have to,” was all you said, George leaping onto Fred in celebration. 
After the gift giving was over, well, it had ended with you, (and it really was best for last), the party started to wind down as people began to say their goodbyes and make their way back to their dorms. Most people would be going home for Christmas, but you’d be staying here at Hogwarts, scraping by with the few friends who would still be there. But, you weren’t getting away with it that easy. While talking with Fred, George, Hermione, Ron and Harry, you mentioned how you’d be staying in the castle for break. They all made an uproar in disagreement, shaking their heads and complaining.
     “That’s rubbish, you’ve got to at least come to our place over break,” George threw his hands up, and Fred nodded vigorously— you couldn’t help but think this had been on his mind the longest.    
     “Yes, do come to The Burrow, I’ll be there as well,” Hermione insisted, clutching your arm. 
You smiled, looking around at all the needy faces. You hadn’t expected them to be so welcoming, it was already a full house. You didn’t want to intrude, “Won’t your mom be so busy? I mean, all of us? I don’t want to make her holiday stressful.”
     George scoffed, 
     “The woman will make it stressful no matter what.”
     “Really. Besides, mum loves you,” Fred persisted. “She can’t get over me being with a smart Ravenclaw girl who’ll keep me out of trouble.”
You snorted,
     “But I’m not with you.”
     “You will be,” Fred shrugged, unbothered, and you refused to meet his eye because you knew you wouldn’t be able to restrain your smile if you did look at him. 
     “Come on, just come with us! We’ll be leaving in a few days and get there just a day before Christmas Eve, that’s more than enough time to pack your things,” Ron demanded, and you couldn’t help but give in, your body shaking with laughter. 
     “Alright, alright, I’ll spend the holiday with you.”
The circle of friends erupted into cheers, and you grinned, your sparkling eyes meeting Fred’s, who was truly glad he’d have you there for the break. 
     Things were really beginning to wind down shortly after, and you were getting ready to head back to your dorm and go to bed. Luna had already left, and you were one of the few people still remaining. You’d spent the rest of your time talking to that circle of friends, though Fred got next to you whenever he could and talked your ear off. When you were on your way to leave, holding your gift in its sparkly gift bag from Fred, you turned around at the sound of footsteps thudding behind you. It was Fred, running up to you, coming to a stop in front of you,
     “YN, wait. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” 
     “Sure,” you grinned warmly. 
You and Fred left together, walking side by side in the dark, winding halls of the castle. You talked quietly, Fred taking any chance to make you laugh, and you did laugh each and every time. You stopped in front of your dormitory and stood there, facing each other, not quite saying anything, just smiling stupidly at each other. It was almost humorous how you tried to avoid your fate with Fred, knowing you liked him back. But you always beat around the bush, because you were really a very studious girl and you knew Fred Weasley would just be a distraction. But you knew he wasn’t that bad. How could he be?
     “Well,” you sniffed awkwardly, cupping your gift bag in your palms. 
     “Welllll,” Fred echoed, dragging out the word and making you laugh. 
     “Really, Fred, thank you, I can’t imagine how you even got this, it’s beautiful, really.”
     “Reminded me of you.”
     “Oh, Fred,” you groaned, making a face like you’d just tasted a sour lemon and laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”
     “But you like that about me,” Fred squinted his eyes at you, as if he was seeing right through you. 
     “I can neither confirm or deny that statement. Your head might explode if I confirm,” you teased, and he simply nodded in agreement.
     “You’ve got a point.”
     “Really though, how did you get this? I’ve never seen such a thing before. Don’t tell me you stole it from Professor Sprout.”
     “Honestly, how much of a git do you think I am? I’ve got my connections, that’s all. It’s special, keep your eye on it.”
     “Alright,” you grinned, sniffing the fragrant, honey-nectar scented center of the flower.  “I’ll leave you be. I really do feel bad that I didn’t get you anything though. If I’d known I would’ve-”
Fred shook his head, 
     “Oh shut up. Of course I had to get you something, all I wanted this holiday was to get you something you’d like. And you like it, don’t you?” You nodded, and he smiled. “That’s all I need.”
You smiled, pleased, then sighed,
     “I really should get going to bed though, and you should too, it’s nearly curfew.”
Fred merely shrugged carelessly,
     “Meh, I’m on break, who gives a rat’s ass what Filch tries to do.”
     “Okay, Fred, whatever you say,” you grinned, shaking your head playfully at his devil-may-care attitude. “Goodnight, now.”
     “Goodnight,” Fred smiled at you.
You started to turn to your dorm, but you turned back at the last second, saying his name,
     “Wait, Fred?”
     “Yeah?” he replied, only for you to lean forward and kiss him softly on the cheek, pulling away slowly and blinking ever so gently. Blush was rising up his cheeks steadily, and he looked like he had melted on the spot, gawking at you. 
You smiled, satisfied with yourself, and spun around, actually about to leave this time,
     “See you in the morning!”
That night, you could’ve sworn your flower grew at least an inch taller, and you hadn’t even done a thing to it.
In the few days you had left at Hogwarts, you and Fred had been spending an awful lot of time together. You were actually taking the time to get to know him, because deep down you knew it was what you both wanted. Each time George passed by you two talking in an empty corridor, he coughed, “lovebirds!” And finally, it was time to leave. You all boarded the train back home, you sharing a car with Ginny and Hermione while the boys stayed with each other, though Fred passed by every hour or so to try and amuse you. 
     “D’you like him, Fred?” Ginny asked, leaning her head against the cool train window. 
You looked down at the table, unable to hide your smile,
     “Yeah, I do. And he knows it.”
     “I think you two would be cute,” Hermione beamed, glancing up from the newspaper. 
     “I have to say, Fred’s never picked a better choice,” Ginny smiled. 
The holidays at the Weasley house were hectic, but they were lovely all the same. George didn’t lie when he said his mother, Molly Weasley, made holidays stressful, but it was the good kind of stress. You were never bored, or lonely for that matter. You always had something to do, whether it be crusting pies, helping Molly magically wash the dishes, pillow fights with Ron and Harry, or listening to Hermione go on and on about her marks for her exams. Besides, Molly really did love you. She kept gushing over how smart and well-behaved you were. And you were convinced Fred had lied and told her you two were a couple, because any time she saw you and Fred together, she cooed, “you two!” and snapped a picture, leaving you blinded by the flash of her old camera. 
It was probably the most bustling Christmas you’d had yet, and everything was going well.
     The afternoon before, Molly had cooked a wonderful feast to be scarved down for tomorrow, and she put charms on all the meals to keep them warm and protected from the boys, who she knew would try to sneak down and take a bite before it was time. You sauntered around the kitchen on Christmas Eve. It was nighttime, and the kitchen was pitch black except for the light emanating from the tip of your wand. You opened the fridge, trying to make yourself a glass of warm pumpkin juice before bed. You’d stayed up late reading, thinking everyone else had gone to sleep. But you were wrong, and you gasped when the kitchen light turned on suddenly. 
You jumped, clutching your chest and breathing in and out, only to see Fred laughing in the corner of the kitchen. You sighed in relief,
     “Jesus, Fred, you scared me. Thought I was the only one up.”
Fred cocked his head to the side as if he were examining you,
     “Late sleeper?”
You nodded,
     “Sometimes. Why are you up?”
     “I happen to be a late sleeper myself… and I heard your footsteps going down to the kitchen.”
You quirked a brow, amused,
     “So you followed me?”
     “This is my house, if anything, you’re following me,” Fred defended himself, folding his arms.
     “I’m only joking, Weasley,” you snorted, continuing to fix yourself a glass of pumpkin juice.
     “I like when you call me that,” Fred remarked, and you pretended not to hear him, but your cheeks were hot as ever. 
     He got closer to you, standing right beside you at the kitchen counter and leaning against it, watching as your hands shook out of nerves while you poured your juice. Since when did Fred make you nervous? And why was being close to him making you so lightheaded? He was looking at you, but you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on your glass, not even noticing when it almost overflowed because your thoughts were elsewhere.
Fred, who had his cheek pressed into his palm, smirked, and did a onceover of you.
     “Need help?” he taunted you. 
You chuckled nervously, huffing,
     “No?”
     “You sure?” he asked, almost challenging you to look at him. 
You turned to face him, rolling your eyes, but you weren’t prepared for him to be standing up, towering over you. You took a deep breath in, while he simply grinned. You looked up at him, blinking rapidly as if there was something in your eye. 
     “Here,” Fred leaned into you, and you froze, only to realize that he was just pulling out his wand and tapping it against your glass. 
When you picked it up and took a drink, the pumpkin juice was just as warm as you’d wanted it to be, and you didn’t even need to heat it up like you were going to.
     “Thanks,” you grinned, your eyes flickering from his to the floor. 
     “Should be getting to bed. Happy Christmas Eve,” Fred gave you a slick three fingered wave and slinked away up the stairs, leaving you there to exhale a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You were in over your head, for sure. 
On Christmas morning, you were the first one up, surprisingly. You got ready as quietly as possible, passing Hermione’s cat on the way to the bathroom as you got ready. For Christmas, you decided you’d dress nicely, putting on a well-fitting orange turtleneck with a black miniskirt. You headed down the stairs silently and found yourself in the kitchen, holding your plant in your hands so you could place it on the window in front of the sink and let it get a bit more light there. 
You paused when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and when you saw Fred, you bit down on your lip. He grinned at you, dressed in his personal Christmas best, a sweater with “F” emblazoned on it that his mom forced him to wear every holiday season, and black skinny jeans. 
     “Hey,” was all he said with a knowing smile, and you grinned. 
     “Hi.”
     “You’re up early,” Fred remarked, inching close to you so the only thing separating your body from his was the plant you were holding in between the two of you.
     “You are too.”
     “Funny coincidence.”
     “Yeah. You’d almost think you were trying to catch me alone,” you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 
     “Maybe, maybe not,” Fred played along. 
     “You’re a real joker, Fred Weasley.”
     “I know,” Fred agreed. “But I’d be a real Scrooge if I didn’t make one tiny little
improvement to this Christmas.”
     “And what’s that?” you chimed. 
Fred tapped his wand just above him, and lo and behold, a mistletoe flower appeared out of thin air, levitating above your heads. You looked up at it, holding your gaze on the plant for a few seconds before giggling, looking down at Fred who was smiling at you. 
     “Merry Christmas,” he remarked quietly, his brown eyes peering into yours, inching his head forward, spreading his warmth. 
     “Merry Christmas,” you practically whispered just in time for his lips to brush against yours, tilting your head forward to engulf him in a slow, sweet kiss under the mistletoe, the light shining in from the kitchen windows, a healthy amount of snow falling outside. 
His lips tasted like peppermint, and he smelled like mischief, but you wanted to hold him close. His sweater was scratchy and warm and thick, bristling against you. He was tender with you, his hands reaching up to roam your face, caressing your cheek and pulling you in closer to him by the small of your back, the petals of the flower in between you pressing against your chests. After a while, you pulled away, Fred’s cheeks red as ever, and your entire body on fire. You weren’t sure why you’d held back for so long, because now that you had a taste of him, you wanted more and more. When you pulled away, you blinked a bit, coming back down onto earth. When you and Fred met eyes again, you both giggled stupidly, clearly high off each other’s touch. 
     When you looked down at the plant, you noticed it had grown inches taller suddenly, and you looked down at it in bewilderment. It had done the same thing after you parted ways with Fred the night of the holiday party in the Gryffindor common room. 
Fred answered the question you were about to ask, 
     “It’s an Amorfluous flower. It’s meant to be given as a gift from one lover to another, so that each time we kiss, it grows.”
You were in awe of Fred. Not only had he managed to get you a gift that was extremely fitting for you, but he got you one that was even more sentimental than you had managed to realize. You were amazed, and you looked up at him awestruck, tears threatening to form in your eyes. 
He chuckled at the sight of you and hugged you close, careful of the flower,
     “Don’t cry!”
     “It’s- it’s just so lovely,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
Fred smirked,
     “You’ve made it up to me, the lack of a gift.”
You chuckled,
     “Good.”
     “Er… should we kiss again? For the flower, of course,” Fred suggested, nodding down at the flower. 
     “Yes, of course. For the flower,” you grinned knowingly and leaned in again, your lips uniting in a sweet kiss once more. 
203 notes · View notes
solastia · 4 years
Text
The Dragon’s Lair | 6
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- Riddle Me This -
Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader
Word Count: 5,094
Notes: It feels like so much has happened and this has been going on for so long, right? But this is actually the very beginning of my long and complicated outline lmao. Anyway, it’s time to meet our Sphinx! I wonder who this could be *insert lenny face here*  And if you’re wondering if there will ever be an end to me adding other kpop fandoms: no, no there will not be. We’re catchin em all. 
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The winter storms were slowly giving into the spring rains. Of course, this made everything horribly humid and muddy, but at least you weren’t snowed in for days on end anymore. 
As soon as you were able, you scheduled contractors that specialized in hybrid-friendly rooms to help get one prepared, as you fully planned on starting the adoption process for Mark when it was done. You had to make sure it had its own heating and cooling system separate from the rest of the house, insulation for winter, and UV lighting, among other things. Needless to say, it was not going to be a quick process, but Mark was safe at the shelter with Heechul’s near-constant vigilance. 
You’d also begun to clear out the barn that you’ve only been using for storage since your grandparents had adopted out all of their animals. You weren’t quite sure how serious you were yet about getting some animals in there again, but for now, it gave you something to do while construction was going on inside your home. 
You spent a lot of time throwing out or giving away anything unusable, sweeping out stalls, and scrubbing everything down until it shone like it hadn’t in years. Thankfully you still kept in touch with a lot of the people that had worked with your family over the years and it was easy to have fresh supplies brought in, half of which you weren’t even sure you’d ever use, but everyone was happy to hear that the farm was going back to work in a sense. 
Despite all these other changes, your relationship with Namjoon was settled into a comfortable path. Not to say that things were unexciting - the man never failed to find some new way to make your heart flutter - but it felt secure and steady now. Like the two of you being a forever thing was assured. It continually surprised you when you remembered that you actually hadn’t been together for very long. He felt like he’d always been there. 
Most days were simply routine. You’d both wake up at the same time and shower - together more often than not -, have breakfast and then he’d head to the shelter while you’d work in your office. At least three times a week you’d meet up to have lunch together, thankful that both of you had lenient bosses that wouldn’t freak out when an hour-long lunch turned into two or three. Once he was home for the day, the two of you usually just spent your time together. You’d watch a movie or read while you cuddled on the couch, oftentimes ignoring the screen to simply listen to him talk. The way he viewed the world was beautiful and you never grew tired of listening. 
Namjoon had put his foot down and declared date night mandatory. So every single Saturday without fail he’d drag you into town for some event or into the mountains for a hike, always doing his best to create the most romantic day possible. You’d tried to convince him that he didn’t need to do all this, that simply walking with him in the forest near your home was romantic as long as he was there, but he claimed he was still “courting” you so it wasn’t something he could just stop. You assumed that meant it was something to do with his Dragon side and let him do as he pleased. 
Once a week you’d usually tag along and go to the shelter, spending most of your time in the playrooms. According to one of the volunteers, Heechul’s shelter held an average of one hundred and fifty hybrids at any given time, which seemed an astronomical amount if one didn’t know about the secret wings and the fact that you were pretty sure he’d borrowed the whole ‘bigger on the inside’ concept. 
You tried to spend as much time as you could with all the hybrids, but as you were only one person there was only so much you could do. Still, you did have your - as Heechul called them - “cub club.” There have been many arguments in the little group about the name - starting with you wondering why they needed a name at all - since they were composed of all different species, but they gave in after Heechul’s continuous use of it and the fact that it apparently was cute, according to Namjoon. 
Basically, it was a group of hybrids that seemed to have singled you out as a clear favorite and would follow you around the moment you stepped into the building. The unspoken leader of the group was your little Mark, who was always waiting by the front door of the building when you would come in. Usually right next to him was Felix, who seemed to split his time between your cubs and Namjoon’s fan club fairly equally. Some newer friends of yours were a teen tiger hybrid named Seonghwa, and wolf pup siblings Changkyun and Jooheon. There were a few others that came and went, but these were your regular crew. 
Today was one of your shelter days, and you were once again surrounded in the playrooms. Mark was sitting next to you with his raccoon hybrid friend Donghyuck, who was an honorary member of Star’s Cubs at this point with how often he was attached to Mark. They were both coloring a picture of their dream bedroom - a sneaky idea you’d gotten so that you could have Mark’s room ready and decorated when the adoption finalized. 
Felix was having a Namjoon day, so after he’d run up to hug you when you’d first arrived, he’d gone right back to the class that Namjoon was currently teaching. You’d probably see him again at lunch, and then he’d talk a mile a minute about everything Namjoon was teaching him and demand cuddles. 
Changkyun and Jooheon were currently wrestling around on the floor near your feet. They were a complicated pair. They had both been found in the wild several months ago, seemingly without any sort of parents or guardians whatsoever. The boys themselves weren’t sure, but you judged them to be around nine or ten. They were smart kids but had obviously been living on their own for quite some time. They mentioned a “her” a few times, speaking of someone from their memories that would make certain foods or clean them, but they couldn’t remember who she was. Their mother, you assumed. 
Needless to say, they were perhaps not the most well-mannered children, but they were sweet and eager to please. To you, at least. The other volunteers usually tried to interact with them as little as possible after a few too many bites and temper tantrums, often referring to them as feral monsters. You had, of course,  taken that up with Heechul, but the damage had already been done and they were labeled as such by everyone. From the day Jooheon had met you, however, he’d decided you “smelled nice” and would bring you scraps from their dinners (that they apparently hoarded - bad habits left from living in the wild). It had taken Changkyun a little longer to warm up to you, but one day he’d just walked up and pushed Felix out of your lap and took his place. You’d scolded him and made him apologize, but you’d let him stay, deciding it had probably been a very long time since he’d been hugged by anyone besides his brother. They’d gotten better about waiting their turn and learning to ask first, but you still went out of your way to cuddle them as much as they’d let you. 
Seonghwa sat nearby doing his homework. He was...interesting. It was the nicest thing you could think of to say about that whole situation. The thing was, he was a nice kid. Almost seventeen, had been here for a few years. Definitely beautiful, no denying that. You didn’t know too much about his past yet, as you hadn’t wanted to pry and he didn’t volunteer much information. He helped you with the younger kids a lot though, asked you about your work, was genuinely sweet, and fun to talk to when he was just chill. The issue was...you were apparently his “first love.” 
He wasn’t creepy about it or anything. He really was super sweet. He would bring you flowers and treats, help you carry anything heavy, and was just really attentive. Unfortunately, then he’d start walking around you in circles, staring intently with his tail flicking around in the air as he sang to you. He had a sweet voice, but they were of course all highly inappropriate love songs to be singing to an older woman. And according to Namjoon, the circling and singing thing was a tiger courting ritual, so you took great care not to acknowledge it. You’d tried letting him down as gently as possible, but somehow he seemed to just consider it more of a challenge, and you really didn’t want to be mean and be his first heartbreak as well. Namjoon surprisingly - or not since he could be a brat himself - thought it was hilarious. He’d often ask how your tiger cub was doing, laughing when you’d swat him. Of course, he was still a territorial dragon, so he would occasionally go out of his way to kiss you with a bit too much tongue or pinch your butt where everyone could see to get the message of your status across. 
Things at the shelter have been fairly quiet and routine, as far as such a big place could be. That’s why you were awfully surprised when Heechul storms into the playroom looking distraught and frazzled. He brightens slightly when he spots you, rushing over and placing his hands on his hips. 
“You’d be perfect, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier!” 
You frown, thoroughly confused. “Thanks, I think. For what?” 
He clucks and shakes his head. 
“We have an exotic on his way here. He was one of mine that I raised until he was ten, and then he was adopted by this lovely couple. Unfortunately, they were a bit too old even then, but they adored Seokjin so I let him go.” He sighs wearily and flops into a nearby recliner. “They passed away last year and left him everything. He’d been living on his own just fine until someone tried to rob the place and he ended up hurt. Then the police of course had to see his medical records and - surprise! - a hybrid had been running around owning a house and living free for an entire year and they don’t like that. They were going to send him to a state-run hybrid institution, which essentially means death if you’re not a baby or usable on the black market. So, he called me in a panic and I have it all settled with the police that he’s officially one of ours and they don’t have to worry about him anymore. But he’s too used to independence to stuff him back into regular hybrid life, so I was thinking maybe you could foster him? Just like, let him hang out at your place until we figure out some way he can go back to living how he likes?” 
“I mean, I have to check in with Namjoon, but I don’t see why not. What kind of hybrid is he?” 
“Sphinx,” Heechul answered, his deadpan voice at odds with his amused eyes. 
“A what now?” 
“Sphinx. You know, part bird, lion and man. Likes riddles. Has big statues.” 
“Sure, why not,” you sigh. This place really made your brain hurt. 
Heechul chuckled and reached out to pat your shoulder. 
“Thanks. I know it’s a lot to deal with right now, with your new romance and getting ready for Mark, but Seokjin deserves a chance. I think you’ll like him.” 
“You know, it’s really creepy when you do that. At least let me tell you with words what I’m planning about Mark.” 
“I didn’t even need to use magic to see that’s where it was headed. He’s basically already yours,” he scoffs, standing up with a light groan. 
“When is this Seokjin going to be here?” 
“He’s on his way to the shelter now. I figured he could just come here first, meet you and have dinner with everyone, then head home with you guys after. If that’s okay.” 
“Again, just have to check with Joon, but it should be fine. Sphinx and dragons aren’t like, mortal enemies or anything, are they?” 
Heechul grins, “Hardly. In fact, I remember they were actually pretty good friends when they were little. Jin was older and would tolerate Joonie like a big brother. Not sure how well Namjoon remembers him, though.” 
“Alright, I guess. Joon’s class is over in a few minutes. I’ll go talk to him now.” 
“Thanks, Star!” 
You shake your head as he flounces away, wondering when he’d started using that name too. At this point, that was basically your official name. 
“Does that mean you’re going to have to stay home all the time? To take care of a new hybrid?” 
A little sniffle came from your right as you registered the fact that your cubs had just been quietly listening to your conversation with Heechul. Mark’s eyes were beginning to glisten with unshed tears and you quickly snatched the boy up and cuddled him close. 
“Of course not, sweetheart. By the sounds of it, he’s older than both me and Joon, so he’s not going to need much looking after. He basically just needs a place to crash until he figures out what to do.” 
“Oh,” he sniffles again, and you try not to laugh about the fact that it’s not helping, as his nose is starting to water too. “So you’ll still come to see me?” 
“Of course! And as soon as the farm is cleaned up you can come to visit me too. How does that sound?” 
“Really? And Felix? And Hyuckie? And...and…”
“Yes,” you interrupt, knowing the boy will try to name literally everyone he’s ever talked to. “Anyone that wants to visit will be able to. I just wanted to make sure it’s safe first, so no one gets sick.” 
“Okay!” Mark squeezes you clumsily but is quickly back to being a ray of sunshine and crawling off of you to go back to his picture. 
“Seonghwa,” you call, snorting inwardly as the tiger practically jumps to attention, “Watch the kids for a bit, okay? I’m going to see Namjoon.” 
He nods quietly and sets his books down, smiling softly as he watches you leave the room. 
*** 
As you’d expected, Namjoon was more than agreeable to the idea of helping his childhood friend but was understandably concerned over how his dragon instincts would react to another creature in his new den with his new...well, mate. (Although he insists that you aren’t official mates yet. And he blushes and refuses to answer whenever you ask what makes you official).
“It’s just, like, I don’t want to stress him out even more, you know? If he’s already going through all this, then I don’t want to be growling and snapping at him,” Namjoon sighed as he stood with you in the lobby, grasping your hand tightly as you both waited for Seokjin to show up. 
“I know, but Heechul told me that Seokjin is the only one of his kind as well so if anyone were to understand that this is a learning situation and not blame you for it, it would be someone like him, right?” 
Namjoon shrugs, “I guess. From what I remember, Jin hyung was really outspoken too, so I think he’d be sure to let me know if I do something to offend him.” 
“And if all else fails, you can just take him behind the house and piss on him,” you try to hide your grin as you tease him. 
He growls playfully, leaning down to tug your hair. “Watch it. I’ll mark you next.” 
“I thought you already did,” you quirk an eyebrow as you refer to certain activities that had taken place before he’d let you leave your bed that morning. 
“Hey, let's keep the rating down in my presence, please,” Heechul sighs wearily from the other side of you. 
The two of you fight valiantly to keep your giggles under control, only able to stop fully once a taxi pulls up in front of the building and nerves once again take over. 
The man that steps out takes even your breath away - quite a feat considering how whipped you were for your own boyfriend. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Namjoon, and has a regal bearing. He has a face that many would pay millions for, with full lips and wide expressive eyes. His hair and lion ears were the same mahogany brown shade, as was the fluffy tip of his long tail. It seemed he had no trouble showing off his lion side. You weren’t sure if that’s all there was to his transformation though, considering he was a Sphinx, not just a lion. 
He turned to pay the driver, who was actually smiling and laughing like the two of them were old friends. Seokjin reached out and shook the man’s hand heartily and shoved what was apparently too much money towards him if the way the man tried to argue about it was any indication. You supposed this meant Seokjin was the friendly sort, which boded well. 
You were a little confused by the fact that the hybrid was only carrying a single suitcase. Perhaps he had left the rest behind to be picked up later? From what Heechul had told you, the hybrid had grown up in a fairly wealthy household, spoiled and doted on. You would think he would be walking in here with twenty name brand suitcases, and yet here he was with only a small rolling suitcase meant for a child with Mario on it. Something about that felt wrong. 
The hybrid seemed fine, however, breezing through the front door with a wide smile like all was right in the world. He stopped right in front of Heechul and stared at him a moment, cocking his head. 
“You haven’t changed a bit, hyung. You don’t have a single new wrinkle. Are you trying to compete with me?” 
Heechul huffs and reaches out to hug the man. Seokjin laughs quietly, pulling Heechul into a bear hug so fierce Heechul squeaks a little. He releases him and pats him on the shoulder before he turns to Namjoon. 
“Don’t tell me you’re little Joon bug? You can’t be anyone else, with those dimples. I used to swear I could use them as cereal bowls if we ever ran out.” 
Namjoon shyly looks down and kicks his foot, but he’s smiling. “Hi, Seokjin-ssi. It’s nice to see you again.” 
The hybrid waves his hand carelessly, “Just call me hyung, Namjoon. Or even just Jin.  We don’t need honorifics with our kind.” 
Namjoon nods and pulls you closer, drawing the Sphinx’s attention. His thick brow raises your way as his smile quirks mischievously. 
“And this must be Miss Star, the one I’ve been hearing so much about,” he raises up his hand like he’s going to shake yours, but the moment you grasp it he holds on tightly. His face suddenly settles into serious lines as he looks down into your eyes. 
“Answer me this. As small as your thumb, I am light in the air. You may hear me before you see me, but trust that I’m here.” 
You hadn’t been prepared for this, for some reason. Duh, Sphinx’s whole thing was about riddles. 
You bite your lip and give it some thought for a moment. “A hummingbird?” 
His smile brightens back up and he releases your hand before he slaps Namjoon’s back. 
“Hey, she’s smart. You got a good one” 
“Yeah…” Namjoon answers dreamily, staring down at you with a dopey grin. You blush and grab his hand. 
Jin’s arm was back to flailing around again, and you were wondering if he was in control of his limbs or if it was the other way around. 
“Hey, listen, want to hear a joke about construction?” he asks. You’re not sure if he really expects an answer, but you squeak out a somewhat genuine sounding “Sure,” anyway. 
“I'm still working on it,” he answers, before cackling loudly, his laughter practically shaking the glass windows as he slaps his leg in amusement. 
You decide, if nothing else, he seems easy to keep entertained. 
You politely laugh and wait for him to finish before taking the chance to steer the conversation in another direction. 
“Are you hungry? We thought we’d stay and have dinner here before we went home. Only if you’re comfortable with that, though.” 
“I’m famished,” Jin answered, slapping his flat and obviously in-shape stomach like it was the opposite. “I wouldn’t mind sticking around. Kyungsoo still the cook here?” 
“Yup. And Wendy is making dessert,” Heechul tells him as he grabs the little suitcase. 
“Sounds great.” 
It hadn’t escaped your notice that no one brought up his past owners or any difficult subjects. You sigh quietly as you walk behind everyone as they went to the dining room, knowing that it was probably going to be all up to you. 
***
Dinner had gone as it usually did, with only the occasional fights to break up between over-enthusiastic kids. You used the time to observe Seokjin, trying to see what you could pick up about him in a group setting like this. He was polite and charming, yes, but very quick to steer the conversation away from himself. You supposed he wasn’t ready to talk about his problems, which was fine. You had time. 
He was also an enthusiastic eater and at one point seemed to have an almost mini-competition going on with the elephant hybrid over who could eat the most. You’d decided to break it up before anyone found out since the elephant was only seven and didn’t need to compete with a grown man. 
Seokjin and Namjoon seemed to get on perfectly well, thank goodness. Jin treated him like a little brother - making sure his bowl was full, teasing him every time he stared at you, telling him at least five jokes about giants. 
The man didn’t seem to have a shred of animosity in him at all, which would normally be a good thing. If one didn’t take into account what had happened to him. He should be upset and crying, or at least mad. Irritated. But he seemed more like he was just visiting some dear old friends, with nothing to fret about. That worried you more than anything because the poor man was probably just really good at covering it up then, and you hoped you’d be able to help him. Or that he’d even let you. 
These thoughts plagued you the whole way home, as you occasionally peeked into the rear view mirror to see Jin sitting quietly with his tiny suitcase that you still hadn’t been able to bring yourself to ask about. 
At least he was here with the two of you, somewhere he could be safe and have people looking out for him. That was the best you could do for now. 
After you show him to a spare bedroom, he thanks you quietly, smiling with his lips but not his eyes. The door closes and you sigh, retreating to your own room to wrap yourself in Namjoon’s arms. It haunts you that something like this could happen to him if anything were to happen to you. That he would get sent back to the shelter with nothing, despite the fact that you wanted to give him the entire world. You’ll have to ask Heechul what you can do to make sure he’s safe. 
***
When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the smell of meat cooking. Normally, this would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, you’ve been living with Namjoon for far too long and your mind now associated unsupervised cooking with near-death experiences, so instead your first reaction is terror. 
You jump out of bed, unmindful of your state of near-undress, and run to the kitchen. Your ears are hyper tuned to every sound, waiting for bellows of pain, but so far you simply hear the slap of your bare feet against wood and sizzling from a pan. 
You round the corner and grab the wall, catching your breath as you stare into the kitchen. Namjoon is sitting at the bar eating a heaping plateful of scrambled eggs and cheese, giggling as Seokjin preforms some a dirty gesture involving sausages and eggs. The Sphinx is standing over the stove with your bright pink apron, confidently cooking away, and both men are fine. You breathe a sigh of relief, slumping slightly as the tension leaves your body. Both men turn at the sound, smiling in greeting. 
“Morning, baby. Jin’s making breakfast. He’s a good cook!” 
“I see that. Morning, everyone,” you reply, walking in and trying not to let on how nervous you’d been. You peck Namjoon’s cheek and peek over the bar at the stove. 
Jin meets your eye and smiles mischievously like he knows what you were concerned about. 
“And here is one for you, madame,” he says with a flourish, setting a plate in front of you piled high with food and even garnished with a couple of tiny flowers from the garden. 
“Wow,” you blurt, honestly astounded by his skill. Everything looked perfect and you couldn’t wait to dig in. 
“What’s with that look?” He says loudly, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You just fell for me, didn’t you? Ah, I’m too charming.” 
You laugh and take a bite, nervously peeking at Namjoon to see if he’d taken the joke too seriously. Seokjin must have magic in his food because you doubted the dragon had even heard since he was too busy shoveling food in his mouth like you’d been starving him for months. 
“Slow down,” you cluck and tap his shoulder. He turns and grins at you with a disgustingly full mouth.
“Isth good,” he mumbles, and you laugh despite your disgust. 
“I can see that.” 
You swirl your fork around as you watch Jin settle in with his own plate, letting him get a few bites in before you strike. 
“So, Joonie and I both took the day off to help you get settled in. We figured you might need to do some shopping or something. I know the bedroom is pretty bare since we were focusing on another room right now.” 
Jin glances up and for a moment his gaze is troubling. You’d seen the brief flash of melancholy before he’d covered it up with a charming smile. 
“I could use a few things to tide me over until I’m out of your hair, I suppose. I do have my own money, but most places around here won’t let you shop without a license.” 
“That was nice of them to leave you money, They must have been good owners.” 
His eyes cloud over and he glances away from you, staring at one of the windows. 
“They were amazing parents. But the money that they left for me got taken away. I believe everything went to my Mom’s cousin - someone she didn’t even really know.”
“I thought you said you had money?” 
“I...uhh...had some stashed away. My dad never liked banks - didn’t trust them. He always had a rule that whenever you used your card, you should take out some cash and squirrel it away just in case. So we’d always take a little out and stash it in this fake book. From the outside it looks like Crime And Punishment, and who reads that willingly?” he snorts, peeking over at Namjoon. “Besides this kid, obviously.” 
Namjoon just shrugs, unbothered with the truth. 
“But...Jin hyung, you mean they kept everything?” 
The Sphinx sighs wearily and drops his fork, reaching up to rub his forehead. 
“Everything. The cousin’s lawyer grabbed my old suitcase from storage and told me I could keep anything I could fit in there as long as he approved of it. I got some clothes, my mom’s recipe book, my dad’s favorite fishing lures, and the stash of cash because he thought it was just another book,” Jin shrugs like he’s just telling a story, never mind that the sound of your heart breaking was probably audible at this point. 
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” you murmur, struggling to stay calm for his sake. 
He shrugs. “No big. I’m a hybrid. Should have expected it.” 
“No, you should not have. People treat actual animals better than they do hybrids and it’s disgusting. I’m so very sorry. I know nothing I say can erase what’s been done to you. Just know that you are safe here and welcome in my home for as long as you like.” 
Jin opens his mouth to say something but snaps it shut again like he can’t figure out what to say. Namjoon grins proudly at you and slaps Jin’s shoulder. 
“Told you, hyung. She’s the best. And she’s right. You are welcome here and I can assure you that I feel no urge to fry you to a crisp.” 
“I...was not aware that was a potential issue. Thanks for not ruining my beautiful face, I guess,” Seokjin says, obviously done with the serious talk and choosing to fall back into humor. 
“And with that settled, I should probably go put on some pants. Thanks for the breakfast! We’ll meet up and go shopping in an hour, yeah?” 
You grin at them both and leave the room, the smile dropping the moment you were sure they couldn’t see. 
Poor Seokjin. 
He had grown up loved and cared for by those people, and just because he was a hybrid he’d lost everything. The fact that this could easily be Namjoon’s story if you were to kick it tomorrow didn’t sit well with you, either. You needed to figure something out that could stop this from happening. Or at least figure out somewhere hybrids could go besides back into shelters. It seems like an impossible task, but one that needs doing, obviously. 
As laughter filters towards you from the kitchen, you smile. One thing is for sure, your first task is going to be convincing Seokjin that he’s already home. 
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shawtygonemad · 3 years
Text
Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better.
A/N: This story is dedicated to my uncle and cousins who are hard of hearing. Even with my botched ASL you all still love me. 
Daryl Dixon x Connie
One-Shot
- Please note that anything signed will be in bold and anything written will be in italics.
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Connie woke that morning bright and chipper. The sun wasn’t even up yet and she was already getting her day started. Her sister on the other hand was not much of a morning person. Connie was kind enough to let her sleep until the sun rose. She always enjoyed finding different little ways to wake her little sister up. Some days it’s tickling her nose with a leaf while other days she practically flops down on her. 
Today Kelly happened to be in a deep sleep in which nothing barely woke her. Connie breathed out a sigh of annoyance at that. All of her tricks didn’t work. Instead she took it upon herself to draw on her sister’s bare arm. She smirked as she slowly got to work. The older woman was no artist, but she still had fun. She wrote ‘World’s Best Sister’, but crossed out best and wrote ‘Okayest’ above it. Then she drew some other pictures and wrapped it up by putting Kelly and her crushes initials together in a heart. 
Once she became bored she decided to go downstairs for some breakfast. Today would be an uneventful day since neither of them had been assigned to do anything. Connie was never a fan of days off. She always needed to be doing something and loved to help out. They should always be doing something to earn their keep. The people of Alexandria were kind enough to let them have their own house. A house that just so happened to be next door to the tall and ruggedly handsome Daryl Dixon. The newly unofficial leader of Alexandria since Michonne left. He lived there with his niece, nephew, Lydia, and dog. Their family dynamic was so cute to watch. For a man who never really had a family until the end of the world he was trying his best and doing a damn good job of it. 
Even though Connie may not be able to hear she could still feel vibrations from noise. That’s how she knew her sister finally woke up and discovered her new tattoo sleeve. She could feel the stomping through the ceiling. When she could feel the rushed, heavy, footsteps coming down the stairs. She grinned and chuckled to herself as she bolted it for the front door. If she didn’t run now then her sister would for sure catch her which would end up in a wrestling match on the floor. 
The warm morning air and sunshine hit her face as she booked it down the front stairs. She looked around for a hiding spot when she noticed Daryl standing on his porch smoking a cigarette. He watched her with curious eyes. Knowing she had less than a minute before her sister caught up to her Connie bolted it for Daryl. He was caught by surprise when she hid behind him. They were back to back with their bodies aleigned from their ankles all the way to where her curly locks reached the middle of his shoulder blades. 
As if timed perfectly, Kelly busted out the front door and looked around for her sister. Thankfully Daryl decided to roll with the odd situation and acted casul. Kelly noticed him and decided to approach since he was close friends with Connie. Or rather, more than close friends she always teased her older sister. 
“Have you seen Connie,” Kelly asked. 
Daryl stood still as to not expose his friend for whatever reason she was hiding. 
He cleared his throat before speaking, “Not this mornin’. Why?”
“‘Cause she’s sneaky and devious and knows that I’m a deep sleeper,” the teen huffed before retreating from the porch. 
Once the coast was clear Daryl nudged his ankle against hers to signal it was safe. When she rounded to his front she had a huge devious smirk on her face. The hunter shook his head in amusement. This woman was always up to something. It’s what he admired about her the most. Even in the darkest of days she was still able to smile and see the bright side. 
“What you do,” he shakily signed. 
Connie smiled as she reached for the notepad and pen in her back pocket. Her heart always felt a warm squeeze every time he signed to her. She almost cried when she discovered he had an ASL study book. He was trying. Not only that, but he was trying for her. Not a lot of people did that or even wanted to waste that kind of time. They usually spoke louder, elongated their words, or just wrote down in her notepad. Most times Kelly had to translate. Unfortunately this wasn’t anything new. People weren’t considerate in the old world and they sure as hell weren’t in this new world. 
“You’re getting better,” she wrote before giving him some tips on how to properly say ‘what did you do’. Without those extra words he just sounded hilariously like a caveman. “I was bored, so I drew on her while she was asleep.”
“Why,” he signed that one with ease. 
“Why not,” Connie grinned. 
She knew Daryl understood her because he seemed to be chuckling while shaking his head.
 “Do you have any plans for today,” she wrote on the paper. 
She noticed him shake his head and his mouth move to a ‘na’ sound which usually meant no for him. It was his heavy southern accent she had to get used to. He even signed with a southern accent much to his bewilderment. 
This man was so incredible. He was kind, enjoyed learning and never got offended when corrected, and sometimes it was hard to read his lips. Not because of his accent, but because she started to wonder how they feel on her own. Even though his lips seemed slightly chapped compared to hers she just knew the kiss would feel amazing. 
“Might go hunting or something,” he wrote. 
“I’ll go with,” she excitedly replied. 
“‘S not a good idea,” he spoke as he turned his head to make sure he still had an eye on Dog. 
Connie frowned before gripping his chin and bringing it back to face her. She gestured with her fingers that he should look at her when he speaks so she can read his lips. He took a deep breath before speaking again. 
“I hunt better alone.”
“Being alone is dangerous,” she signed. 
Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what she said. The only thing he caught was dangerous. She must have been telling him the dangers of going out alone. He pointed his thumb in the direction of his pet across the street. 
“I got Dog.”
Connie stared at him blankly before writing in her pad again. She held it up for him to see, her face still neutral. 
“Because he’s so ferocious.” 
He could practically hear the sarcasm in her handwriting. He turned back around the check on his animal. Dog was currently sitting across the street on a patch of grass with his niece Judith. She was currently painting his nails with a sparkly blue polish that Connie found for her. Dog sat there patiently while allowing her to do so. He tail was wagging ever so slightly so you knew he was enjoying it. Daryl rolled his eyes before turning back to his neighbor.
“Fine. We leave in an hour,” he told her before stepping off the porch to retrieve his dog.  
Soon the pair were off trekking through the woods with a begrudging Dog. He must have really wanted to stay at his spa day with Judith. The thought made Connie chuckle. Daryl glanced over at her, but didn’t say a word. Her chuckle was sweet but he thought nothing could compare to her laugh. It was so bright and boisterous. It was able to bring light to even the darkest days. 
Daryl noticed Dog froze in his steps. This caused Daryl to stop and hold his arm out for Connie to follow suit as well. He placed a finger on his lips - a universal sign to be quiet. She rose an eyebrow at him. As if she didn’t know to be quiet already. Does this man really think she’s never been hunting before? What does he think kept her and Kelly alive this entire time. 
She swiftly took out her slingshot before bending down to grab a sharp and rigid rock. It was placed in the holder and fired off before Daryl could even lift his crossbow. With the speed, force, and rigidness from the rock it was easily able to go straight through the woodchuck’s head. Daryl looked at her impressed. She gave him a knowing smirk before signaling Dog to go retrieve it. When he returned she tossed Daryl the animal to put on the kill string. She placed her hands on her hips as she stared Daryl down. She then tried to speak. 
“Anything you can do, I can do better,” she sassed. 
Even though it was a little hard to understand, Daryl could hear her clear as day. He quickly snatched the notepad from Connie’s back pocket, much to her surprise. Once he was finished scratching down his sentence he lifted the pad up for her to see. 
“Is that a challenge?” It said. 
She grinned in excitement at the idea of this game. She was always competitive, and she had a feeling Daryl was too. The notebook was grabbed back and she began to write on it while snickering. Soon she lifted it up to show the redneck. There were two columns. One said Connie and the other said Daryl. Connie had 1 tally mark in her column while Daryl had a frowny face. Daryl laughed. 
“We’ll see who’s frowning afterwards.”
“Bet?” she signed. 
“What’s the wager,” Daryl asked, slightly afraid of her punishment. 
She wrote down on the pad again before lifting it up. 
“Winner’s choice?”
That made Daryl feel a little more at ease. It also meant that he'd have to work his ass off to beat her. He really wanted to win and had a great prize in mind. Connie may be good, but he’s been hunting for 35+ years. He nodded in agreement with her. They even shook hands to make it official. 
This game took place for hours. Both of them enjoying the hunt, a few laughs, but especially each other’s company. They were so entranced with hunting that they completely forgot to even keep score. Hunting with the two could have continued all day, but it was already late afternoon. Dog was the one to call it a day. He was laying down panting hard, too tired to go and retrieve the final catch. The humans decided to agree with him. Besides, they had plenty of meat to feed their entire community. All three of them walked back in comfortable silence. It wasn’t until they were inside the gates of Alexandria and before their houses that they remembered the game. 
Connie practically flung the notepad open just for her to frown. They stopped placing tally’s after 3 catches each. Technically they both won by the Talley's.
“A tie,” she signed. 
Her heartbeat sped up. During the entire hunt she was thinking of what his punishment should be. The only thing that kept circling back was for him to kiss her. She finally told herself that she would do it, and psyched herself up the entire time in the woods. Now it was a tie, and her stomach tightened in disappointment. She lost her chance. 
“What does that mean,” he asked, seeming slightly disappointed as well. 
“We both win?” she wrote.
“What did you want,” he sketched beside her reply. 
Her heart sped up again. Maybe she could still get her chance. It was either now or never. She decided to throw all insecurities to the wind and go for it. 
“This…” she slowly signed before placing her two hands on each side of his face. 
She brought him down to her level and kissed his lips. They were warm and slightly wet from him licking them moments ago. To both of their surprise he kissed her back with ease. Only Daryl was still awkward and unsure of where to put his hands. This made Connie smile into his lips and she grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist. This seemed to be the confirmation Daryl needed to fully get into it. He placed one hand on the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. Shortly after they were out of breath and had to pull away. They just stared into one another’s eyes trying to be sure that what just occurred really happened. A devious smile soon formed on Daryl’s face when he noticed how out of breath and flustered Connie was. 
“Anythin’ you can do, I can do better,” he said.
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paganvamp · 3 years
Text
Saving Grace: Prologue
1,000 years ago, a witch with powerful psychic abilities had a premonition that the family next door would commit an act so unholy, it would breed a race of monsters. And though she considers the family’s children to be close friends, she cannot risk the balance of nature. But just as Esther heard of the Immortality Spell, there are whispers of another... a spell which may leave a vital chink in the armor Esther is creating for her children.
But magic has a mind of its own, and Maja’s curse is not what she intended.
In present day Mystic Fall, Virginia, Grace Sinclair wakes one morning sure that her friend Elena Gilbert is returning to school after a four month absence following the death of her parents... only, Grace is apparently the only person aware of such a tragedy. Until that night, that is, when the Gilbert car nosedives off the Wickery Bridge.
So sets in motion a whirlwind of events none of the citizens of Mystic Falls are prepared for, including witches, psychics, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and hybrids... and that’s just the beginning.
Eventual Kol x OC (in the meantime, slight Damon x OC and Tyler x OC)
(A/N: Disclaimer - I do not own TVD or TO. Also, this has not been beta’d so any mistakes are my own) (Also the GIF is not mine, all credit to the original creator)
CW: Talk of blood, canon-level violence, eventual cursing and smut
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                              1000 AD: The Originals
       “Ayana, you mustn’t do this.” Maja had been begging the older witch to see reason for nearly half a day. 
       “Esther will not be swayed,” Ayana’s response had been the same for nearly half a day. “She wants to protect her children, Maja.”
      “You know what I saw!” Maja protested. “You know how it will anger the Spirits!”
      “Then it will be her consequence to bear, not ours.” Ayana bore no ill will against either the young witch in front of her or the woman of whom they spoke. But she had no desire to get any more mixed up in their business than she already was. She had conceded to Esther’s pleading out of pity, guiding her towards a spell that would give her the protection she so craved for her remaining family. The same night the child, Henrik, had died, however, Maja had Seen a premonition of the future, a rare gift no one else in their land possessed. Monsters, she had cried, you will breed a race of monsters! Esther, who had been a mentor to Maja as she learned alongside Esther’s own son Kol, had ignored her. Blinded by grief, Esther demanded Ayana help her gather the ingredients for the spell, forsaking the Ancestors she had been sworn to. 
    “I saw our home, Ayana.” Maja spoke softly, knowing that was the one bit of information she had yet to share, had left out of her recounting to both women earlier. The destruction of their village. “Overrun with unnatural creatures, bathed in the blood of innocents.” Ayana straightened, abandoning her basket of White Oak bark on the ground.
    “Esther can’t have done that much damage.”
    “Can’t she? A thousand years later, Ayana, and our descendants are still paying for whatever mess Esther creates tonight.” The older witch hesitated, then stepped closer and lowered her voice.
    “There is… something.” She had heard of a tactic they could try, a story passed down from legend. “But it may not work.”
    “I will try anything.” Maja vowed. She felt for Esther, she truly did. Kol and Rebekah, all of them really, were her friends – she didn’t want anything to happen to them; Henrik had been a joyful presence in her life. But she couldn’t let Esther upset the Balance so monumentally – she wouldn’t. Even if it the cost was her life.
——————————————————————————
    The spell Ayana had found for Esther centered around blood – Black Magic. She was to mix it into their dinner, with a few other ingredients, perform the spell, and feed it to her children. The result would be their redemption; no one could hurt any of them ever again. 
    Ayana had found something that might put a dent in that plan. 
    “I won’t be part of this,” she warned Maja. “I gave you the spell, but if you want to stop Esther, you’re on your own.” 
    “I understand.” Esther’s wrath could be as ferocious as her husband’s. “Thank you.”
    “This is not a guarantee. It is a legend, nothing more, and it may not work at all.” But Maja had hope. No premonitions had revealed to her the success of the spell, but she knew enough about her gifts to trust in her intuition. So, she got to work. She knew what Esther had used for the spell – who Esther had used for the spell – and knew that she had only a small window of opportunity. As Esther’s spell centered around blood, so did Maja’s – her own. It only took a bit, not enough to kill her, spelled and mixed in with Tatia’s. In theory, it would provide a loophole specific to her. Esther’s spell may make her children invulnerable, but Maja would be their weakness. By consuming her spelled blood, all six of them would be connected.
    Sneaking as close as she dared to the fire pit outside Mikael’s home, near which sat a cask of wine she knew contained the magical elixir, Maja pulled a bottle of her own blood, previously collected, from under her skirts. As quickly as she could, she began pouring it into the cask, when Rebekah stepped outside.
    “Maja? What are you doing here?” Only half-emptied, Maja was forced to let the small vial fall to the ground, where she pressed it into the mud with her foot.
    “Oh, I was coming to say hello when I smelled your mother’s stew.” Luckily, any strange movements Rebekah might have noticed Maja making were hidden by the rather large spit and pot over the fire. “She really is the best cook in the village.”
    “I would invite you to have some, but my father will be home soon.” Everyone was afraid of Mikael, with good reason. After Henrik’s death, his temper had been even more uncontrollable.
    “I understand. Say hello to your family for me!” Walking quickly away, Maja prayed the amount of blood she’d gotten into the wine had been enough. 
——————————————————————————
    Later that evening, far too apprehensive to finish her supper, Maja stepped outside her home, hoping to find reprieve from the concerned looks of her parents and siblings. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of Mikael through the open window of his own home next door. She was just in time to see him drive his sword through Kol’s heart, an action that felt as though it were echoed in Maja’s own - Kol was, along with Rebekah, her dearest friend. The Sun for life, she chanted to herself, one half of her hoping the poor family would stay dead, the other pleading to see her Kol’s perpetually smiling face pop back up at the window. Mikael left, looking for something, and Maja stepped back into the doorway, hidden from him amongst the shadows. A few minutes later, Kol’s head did appear again in the window, along with the rest of his siblings, all looking bloody and extremely confused. Mikael returned, a sick-looking girl in his arms. Fresh blood. Maja didn’t want to watch anymore. 
    The next night, Maja was sitting under the White Oak in the middle of the village, one of her father’s hunting knives up her sleeve. The White Oak for Immortality… but if the spell had worked, would she be the exception? Mikael’s request, repeated to her by Ayana, rang in her ears. Stronger, faster, superior in power and senses. Perhaps, then, the trick wouldn’t be killing them, but getting to them. As Elijah walked past, off to do whatever errands he could no longer do during the day, Maja made her choice. Dear, sweet Elijah. The most mild-mannered, the most kind. The one least likely to snap her neck should he notice her intentions. 
    Knowing it was likely futile to attempt to be sneaky, as she and Elijah were the only two people out, she went for another tactic.
    “Elijah!” He whirled.
    “Maja? What are you doing out here so late?”
    “I just… wanted to see how you were doing? I know this transition cannot be an easy one.” She stepped closer and he stiffened.
    “No, no it… it is not.” Even now, his deep, calm voice soothed Maja’s anxiety, as it always had. “There are…unexpected challenges.” She imagined all of it was unexpected, but she knew what he was trying to say.
    “Like what?” She stepped closer again, now within striking distance. Elijah was clearly uncomfortable with her line of questioning.
    “Let us just say it is an exercise in control.” Suddenly, she lashed out, knife in hand. Had he been human, it would have gone directly into his heart. As he was not, however, he moved to the side in time to avoid most of the damage. She did leave a long gash across his chest, however.
    It healed almost immediately.
    “What are you doing?” Elijah demanded. Maja was numb.
    “It didn’t work.” She felt her lower lip begin to tremble with tears of hopelessness.
    “Of course, it didn’t work! You of all people should know better.” I meant the spell. But she didn’t correct him, and she didn’t seem to notice that she was being criticized, not for attempting to kill him, but for doing a shoddy job of it. We’re not connected at all.
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cruelfvkingsummer · 4 years
Text
Ivar x Reader: In Every Sunrise (One Shot)
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Plot: The one where in a lifetime of war, Ivar can now have peace.
Pairing: Ivar x Reader
Warning: ANGST, fluff at the end, death, a little murder cause ... Ivar
Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge (@waiting4inspiration​): 
“If you asked me to stay I would’ve.”
“I dreamed about you last night.”
Drayunn knew better than to accompany his aging father any farther than this, the simple archway formed from fallen boulders and huge rocks were the landmark – the line that has never been crossed by anybody but Ivar for the past decades. His eldest brothers and even Ivar’s favored daughter or his sweet wife have tried and failed and not succeeded in convincing Ivar to give them a peek of what he considered his sacred ground. Ivar’s most loyal men were stationed by the boulder with the order to kill if anyone trespasses, no matter who they might be.
The queen told his son that was where his father prays to his gods and finds his peace amidst his usually brutal and bloodstained life. It would seem time has taught her to not question this part of her husband’s life no matter how much it might drive someone insane.
“Father –“
“You may go now,” Ivar waved off his son with gentle pats on his cheeks. Drayunn couldn’t help but stare at his rough and ragged hands – full of scars and marks of his difficult but eventful travels. “I’ll be back before the moon is up.”
“Father, your legs –“
Ivar stopped his son with a short glare – a small peak of the terrifying man he once was when he was still Ivar the Boneless and not King Ivar. His age might have made him weak and his body may be failing him but there was something inside him – the monster lying dormant – that still manages to strike fear in everyone’s soul.
Ivar straightened himself using his metal crutch and cleared his throat, he looked back up at the small pathway covered by the mist – his eyes going soft. “Go now, Drayunn.”
Drayunn could do nothing but stare as the early morning fog swallowed his father whole as he ascended the hill. Somehow, this time, it feels like goodbye.
-
Ivar smiled at the familiar dirt path, pulling wildflowers from their stem with his free hands until about two dozens of colorful flowers were bunched up in his hand. It takes him longer now, his legs screaming in agony at every step on the very jagged hill but still he persevered.
He made a promise and this time he will not break it.
He sighed in relief when he saw the tree and the rocks piled to form a small pyramid below it to mark the place, the small vines and flowers that grew and wrapped itself around the stones made it sturdy enough to face the current of the wind. He sat in the ground and supported his back with one of the protruding roots, carefully placing the flowers in front of the pyramid, almost like an offering to a goddess.
His goddess.
“I’ve arrived, my love,” he whispered.
He laid a soft hand at the top of the stones, closing his eyes as he tried to imagine your body sleeping peacefully below him.
You, the greatest love of his life, and his own personal Valhalla in this hell of an earth he was placed on.
If his mind was quiet enough he could still hear your echoing laughter, your soft and soothing humming as you cooked him his dinner in your humble little cabin that Ivar had personally designed to fit your bidding. He could still hear you calling out his name, with no tittle but full of love and adoration, that now does nothing but make his heart ache.
He loved you.
(Still and will always love you.)
The gods knew how much he loved you.
The fact that he raided and purged a kingdom just so he can dig your body out of the commoner’s grave the blind Christians placed you in was enough to show that not even the gods’ prophecies and promises of all the power and glory in the world had made him forget about you.
Nobody was allowed to survive in that rotten castle. Everyone has to suffer for their arrogance and mistreatment of his very own forgotten Freya.
You were a good woman – definitely better than what he deserved.
But he was young and hungry for glory – glory that was promised to him as the favored child of the gods. He had a prophecy to fulfill and a whole world to take over. He racked his brain for months, remaining sleepless and almost as mad as his brothers always sees him to be thinking of way he can both have you and his promised destiny.
In the end, you chose for him. Leaving him tearful and heartbroken by the docks as you kissed his lips one more time as goodbye.
You sobbed, as he used one hand to cradle your cheeks. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Ivar,”
“(Y/N) …”
“No, please,” you turned your face and kissed his palm. “I have to go. You know I have to.”
For the first time in your life he couldn’t stop the tears in his eyes.  He sniffed and pulled your forehead to his, the physical pain of the thought of not having you by his side more painful than all of his bones breaking all at once.
“Forgive me, my love,” he whispered, tears now falling down both your faces. “You married a weak man.”
He pulled you for one last kiss only to be broken by the screams of a Viking for everyone to go on board. You placed a hand in between the two of you hoping some distance will make the separation easier.
It didn’t, both of you felt like your souls were being ripped apart.
“In another life,” you whispered. “Where we live in a kinder world with no great prophecies and destiny to fulfill … I’ll be waiting for you again.”
Ivar laughed shakily, taking the hand on his chest and kissing it deeply one more time. “I promise, my love. I’ll find you; I’ll rip the world apart looking for you.”
You took a deep breath and slowly walked backward, a sad smile on your face.
“In another life, my love.”
When he had established his own stronghold he had sent out spies in all countries he knew off to look for you. You were not an easy woman to find but he found you. You had never married again, opting instead to take care of the orphans in a remote village.
He always had ears and eyes on you, and sometimes, when winters were rough he made sure to leave enough high-quality furs and meat by the orphanage’s door.
Thankfully, you were none the wiser for if you had known you were sure to disappear again from his grasps, afraid of angering the gods and having them take out their anger on your love who was always on blood-stained wars.
However, he failed you once again when he was called for the final war. It was the greatest battle of his life. The one that cemented his name to history forever.
And as always, it came with a price.
Every victory always had a price.
Due to the size of the army he had to fight off, Ivar had no choice but to utilize everybody in his army, even the spies he had placed to look after you. In the three years that the war rampaged on you have gotten sick by the second winter and breathed your last long before summer could arrive.
People thought the war had finally broken whatever soul the king had left in him but he knew – he knew it had died with you.
He requested permission from the king to bring your body back to his kingdom as discretely as possible but the young and arrogant king called it a heresy to disturb a rotting body of some commoner and held the agreement off thinking he could use it as something to dangle above the great King Ivar’s head as leverage.
So Ivar cut off all his limbs and burned his castle to the ground.
You had always told him how if you had died before him then you want to be buried under the ground where he can visit you whenever he pleases – to give him some sense of peace and companionship even with your absence. And he used to laugh, thinking how he would never allow that to happen and that the two of you were destined to take your last breathes together.
He was wrong.
You were right.
You always were.
So he took your humble wooden coffin and had his chosen thralls bury it in this highest hilltop he could find in his kingdom, promising to visit you at least once a month. He had every single thrall who knew of what was truly in the hill banished with enough gold to last them two lifetimes with a promise that if he ever saw their shadow in his kingdom he would have them and their entire family tree murdered.
And thus, the sacred ground of the great King Ivar was born.
His personal Valhalla where his Freya lays resting, waiting for him.
“I dreamed about you last night,” he whispered. He could almost see the coy look you always pull on your face whenever you try not to be flattered by his compliments, making him smile. “We were in the lake behind our home and you were trying to braid my hair. However your sneaky gentle hands lulled me to sleep and when I woke … I was back to reality.”
He started coughing, it was almost winter and the cold had not been kind to his weakened body. He knew his time was near and this could be the last time he could visit you in Midgard. “How many times must I lose you, hmm?”
Truly he couldn’t wait to see you again. All these dreams he had of you does nothing but give him a few seconds of absolute bliss before it will be ripped from him by the next morning.
”You know,” he paused, leaning back on the tree, his hands mindlessly pulling on the grass by his legs which ached more and more as it got exposed to the cold. He opted to ignore it. “If you asked me to stay I would’ve.”
He would’ve said damn the gods and damn his destiny. He would’ve gotten on the boat himself and left his crown and dreams of glory on the shores of Kattegat.
But he knows that you knew that. And that is why you had to make the choice yourself before you could become his ruin. Such a selfless and stubborn woman he had, only thinking of him that even her body refused to rot until she was back on his lands.
He was just about to close his eyes to rest a little when he felt a presence behind him. He unsheathed his dagger ready to murder the trespasses only to see a familiar stranger.
A stranger he once saw when his father, the great Ragnar Lothbrok, was murdered.
“Lord Odin,” he called at the hulking figure he always took form in, preparing to bow to his god only for him to wave off his efforts making him sit back down, eyes looking wearily at the god before him.
Odin nodded at him and walked until he was beside the old king.
Ivar seemed confused what Odin’s goal was and the purpose of his visit only to feel his whole body weaken almost instantly. He looked up Odin before slowly looking back at the rising sun – already accepting his fate. “Is it my time?”
Odin nodded, looking down almost lovingly at his faithful descendant.
“Do you wish for more time?” the great Odin asked the great king, for this favored one he can pull some strings but Ivar managed to surprise him one last time when he shook his head.
“I want her beside me in Valhalla,” he knew the stories. He knew great kings would be given one last wish before they die. Whatever they wanted, may it be their legacy to never be forgotten, for their sons to be greater than them, or to even wish ill on the blood of their enemies.
But Ivar’s mind has been made up. “I want her beside me or I am not entering.”
Odin chuckled, still such a stubborn child in his age. “That was already a given, my child.”
Ivar nodded, finally at peace knowing you were waiting for him. “Then I’m ready.”
Odin sighed, sitting next to him so they can see eye to eye.
“You haven’t used your wish,” Odin started. “Do you not want anything?”
Ivar thought about it. His sons were great men now, most are kings in their own rights and even his only daughter was married to a great King on the East. His wife was still beautiful and could easily marry another who can truly love her and appreciate her for the great woman that she is. He truly has nothing to ask for except one thing.
The thing that had been nagging on his brain for years and years and years.
“Then,” he looked at Odin. “May I ask you a question?”
Odin seemed to expect it but nodded nonetheless.
Ivar hesitated but he willed himself.
“If I had …” he sighed deeply, thinking of a different reality than the one he was living in. “If I had gone on the boat … would I have been happy?”
Odin seemed to hesitate knowing exactly what he meant. He looked away at Ivar and looked at the sun as Ivar was. “There was no glory to be found in that life. You would have never found contentment.”
“That’s not my question,” Ivar shook his head, now his eyes not straying from Odin. “Would I have been happy?”
Odin’s jaw clenched before he finally looked at Ivar, something akin to an apology written in his eye.
“Truly,” he affirmed pity in his eyes as he looked at his favorite child and the beautiful future he had stolen from him in exchange for the world. “You would’ve been happier than gods would’ve allowed.”
Ivar seemed taken aback, breathing out a shaky sigh, before he leaned back to the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. Frustrated and angry but also so very tired. He no longer wants to be angry. And he is tired of fighting the world and all the gods for his fate.
He will be seeing you soon and that is enough.
After a life of war he craves for peace now – peace for his broken soul and torn heart.
“I’m tired,” He whispered knowing his god would hear as he always does.
“I know,” Odin answered. “You can rest now, child.”
Odin placed a gentle hand on Ivar’s eyes just as his body finally failed him and he breathed his last. He summoned the remaining bones and dusts of Ivar’s one true love out of the earth and made a pendant out of it for Ivar to wear and take with him on his final resting place.
A small apology for tearing the two lovers apart in life but now at the very least in death they can be together again.
Odin raised his arms and out came seven ravens to inform all Ivarssons that their father has now, finally, found true peace.
-
Ivar heard chirping of the birds but it was the scent of some bread cooking that truly woke him up, it smelled familiar. It smelt like home. When he opened his eyes the golden ceiling of his castle did not greet him, instead in its place were plain hardwood ceilings with Viking carvings that was only present in his old home back in Kattegat.
“Ivar!” he heard a distant familiar scream of his name making his heart almost stop. He was in such a hurry he failed to see he was back on his young body until he accidentally stood up on both his feet.
His two uncharacteristically strong legs holding him up making his jaw drop, and the round mirror he bought off a trader showing him in his prime.
But before he could dwell on it he heard your voice again. “Ivar!”
Behind the house, by the lake.
He slammed his hands on the wooden door and ran and ran and ran laughing as he did, as he finally felt the soft grass and wet soil on his feet and not the constant pain who accompanied him his whole life.
And when he reached where the lake should be he sees you.
You.
It’s finally you.
Just as beautiful as you were when he last saw you.
You were wearing a humble hand-weaved dress but Ivar could swear you looked more beautiful than all of the woman he had seen in his long life.
You were running towards him, laughing and waving and he realized that this was it.
He was home.
He caught you in his arms just as you jumped, twirling you around as your familiar scent hit his senses making him tear up between your laughter.
“My love,” you whispered in his ears making him hug you even tighter. He knows somewhere in this version of paradise his father and brothers are waiting for him to join them at their table totell them his stories of battle and glory but for now they can wait.
He wanted to stay here for a little longer.
He had dreamt of this and nothing but this forever. Every pain and heartache in his mortal life had been worth all this.
When he pulled back, he almost gasped from finally having you so close. The hue in your eyes almost blindingly beautiful. He had been so scared he would forget you as he grew older but he could recognize these eyes everywhere.
“My Ivar,” you leaned in, your soft lashes touching fluttering on his cheeks as you finally kissed him. A kiss so familiar despite the years of absence.
“(Y/N),” he whispered in between the kisses, a final tear of happiness falling from his eye.
His heart has finally healed.
“Welcome home, my love.”
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kamosweasley · 3 years
Text
Free Woman (Fred Weasley x Reader)
Description : I saw a tiktok about truth or dare and this idea came up to my mind. I thought it suit Fred so here it is.
Word count : 2 337
Warning : vulgar words, mention of sex and Fred being an asshole (but it's getting better)
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Where most see an easy girl, you see a free woman. You’re a free woman who does what she wants, which includes having sex with a lot of people. You wouldn’t say it’s a big deal but others do, and when it comes to a truth or dare night, others are merciless with it. Like it's supposed to hurt you that you're being attacked with it. And the most fervent attacker of all never misses an opportunity.
-Dean, what are you with Y/N ? We know you’re friends but you seemed a little bit more than that. And don’t forget you have to tell the truth.
Dean looks at you, searching in your eyes for what he’s supposed to say. The truth can be told, it doesn’t bother you even if it means the whole school will know about it by tomorrow morning. Hiding was just to preserve ourselves against the judgment of people who like to spit on other people's lives when theirs is far from being better. You’re so sick of other people …
-Don’t look at me like this Dean, you know the truth so tell ‘em.
-We’re friends, it’s not a secret.
-Just friends ? You have to tell us about everything, I’m not sure you are just friends.
-I know you’re obsessed with me Weasley but what’s your problem ? Since when do you care so much about the exact nature of my relationships with my friends ?
-Everybody knows you’re a whore, you spend your time going around the school willing for a dick.
-Elegant and delicate, I expected no less from you. So why didn't you ask him directly if we're sleeping together ? So Dean, do we bang together sometimes ?
-Y/N …
-It’s okay, just answer it.
-Yes. We do it from time to time.
-You see, not that difficult. Ask the right question instead of playing the innocent boy, that’s ridiculous.
-Even with your friend, you can't help but have sex with everyone, isn’t it ?
-I don’t need your opinion, I do what I fucking want.
-I think we understood that. Nobody can stop your appetite.
-You’re such a fucking chump. You should rather admit you are upset I don't want you, or should I say your dick since you said it’s all I’m willing for.
-You never said that Y/L/N.
-That doesn't stop me from thinking about it Weasley. Furthermore, I'm sure you're a bad kisser.
-You just have to check.
The tension only intensifies, in the room everyone seems to be holding their breath. It’s a lion’s fight between the two biggest mouths of Gryffondor, it's almost like watching a quidditch game and wondering who will be next to score a point. And you want to win, there's no way you're going to lose to Fred Weasley, who wants to act smart. But you want to play a little, to make him understand he can’t win against you.
-Dean, could you ask Fred ?
-Sure. Umh, Fred, truth or dare ?
-Dare.
-I guess I don’t have the choice. You have to kiss Y/N.
Proud as a peacock, he gets up from his seat and comes to you in a hurry. You have time to see him smile before you feel one of his hands resting on your neck and the other on your waist as he kisses you. His lips are warm, moving slowly and passionately, it’s getting even better as the seconds go by, but you don’t let it show. Nothing moves except your lips, your hands stay next to your thighs, your back against the wall and Fred holding you against him. It's passion, there's nothing tender about it, but it's good. For the first time in a while, you think Fred is hot, and fuckable. And it takes a lot to want to sleep with this misogynistic little prick. When his lips leave yours you take a second to stand still before you open your eyes. He smiles, raising an eyebrow, proud as a peacock.
-Y/N, truth or dare ?
-Truth.
-How do you feel after that kiss ? Do you feel amazed or stunned by this marvelous kiss love ?
-I was right, you’re a bad kisser. You don’t know how to move your lips, it’s pretty embarrassing.
-In that case, would you do me the honor of showing me how to do it ?
I approach him in my turn, looking proud and staring at him with a hint of superiority. It's easy to make things "spicy" with Fred, you read him like an open book, you know exactly what to do to get the reaction you want. It’s the advantage with loud boys, by constantly making noise they become predictable, without forgetting they are all the same. You know Fred despises you because you’re an “easy girl” and you despise him just as much. From the beginning he has turned you around, sometimes doing what you have interpreted as clumsy attempts to bring you together, and for some time now he has taken every available opportunity to insult you about your sexuality. You've learned to armour yourself over time, this kind of remark no longer affects you. You assume but you hate it when people use it against you for too long. Bringing their misogyny out as if they deserve a round of applause for it ... There's no way you're going soft on that damn Fred Weasley.
About to kiss him, a few millimetres from his lips after he closes his eyes, you smirk while tapping the tip of his nose.
-I mean, I could but why would I want to ?
You return to your place, challenging him by gaze. His ears turn red, his jaw tightens and it's easy to read on his face that he hates you. And you love it. There is no better player than Fred, he’s smart, sneaky, ambitious, and loves to have the last word. And after that kiss, for sure he wants to fight even harder. It must be kinky of you but you can’t help it. You want to play with him until you can’t do it anymore and then, let ourselves be consumed by this burning tension. That sounds great, really great.
-Continue the game, we'll settle it outside.
He grabs you by the arm and takes you with so much strength that you can't even fight, is it his quidditch training that makes him so strong ? You go up the stairs to the boys' dormitories as you protest, saying that he hurts you, but unsurprisingly he doesn't care. Until he closed the door of his dorm, he didn't let you go. Your arm hurts a little and he seems angry. It looks like he didn't understand the game.
-Okay so maybe you can tell me what's wrong with you ?
-Sorry ? Wrong with me ?
-Yes, why do you hate me like that ? From the beginning you have been haughty with me, you're having sex with half the school and you can't even be nice to me for two seconds ?
-Wow wow wow, wait a minute ! Are you mad at me because I don't want to have sex with you ?
-No, I’m mad at you because you’re cool with everybody except me. Since day one, you flirt, you’re nice to everybody, even George. You smile at him when you walk by while ignoring me, you know perfectly well how to differentiate us and each time it is with me that you are mean.
-Didn't you just say I've been ignoring you all along?
-Why do you hate me ? It’s like playing truth or dare and you just chose truth, so answer me. Please.
-Okay so first of all, I don’t hate you. It's much too strong to express how I feel about you, it’s more like disregard. And I despise you because you’re acting like a total jerk to me. Seriously, why would I like you when you call me a whore and make remarks about my sex life every time you meet me ? I can understand you want to join that famous half of the school I slept with, but there are ways of asking that are much more successful than yours.
-I don’t want to sleep with you.
-Really ?
In the silence of the dorm, you give him the time to realize and admit he’s not honest on this point. Anyone at Hogwarts would say that it's clear he wants to sleep with you because of the way he treats you. He seems like a man desperate for your attention and he dares to look you straight in the eye and tell you that he doesn't want to ? Liar.
-Okay, maybe a little. But the main point is I don't like that you don't like me. You are funny, and smart, and above all you do what you want. What you said earlier is true, you do what you want and you don't care what other people think. I respect you for that.
-It's funny because that's not the impression I got.
-I lied, I behaved like a dumbass and said things I don't mean. I just wanted to …
-You know what I think? You are jealous of others, and probably even of your own twin brother, because I was nice to them and you wanted me to be nice to you. It's no secret that you hate being seen as one person or that you can't be differentiated. I don't act like the others and I hate the poor little Fred. That's why you're mean to me. Because if I hate you, to use your words, it has to be because you hate me. But you don't like that, because you like me and you actually want to be friends. Maybe even more.
You slowly moved closer to Fred during your speech until you were right in front of him, barely a step apart. You are sure of your reasoning, you want him to tell you that you are right and you want him to apologize. Now that he's started the conversation, you want to come out of it with everything you wanted. You want to know the whole truth and for him to apologize for his behaviour, especially if he says he's regretting it. Especially since you're starting to like the Fred you're discovering right now, who is nice and open to discussion but nothing can be done without honesty and excuses.
-Am I wrong Weasley ?
-My name is Fred.
-I know, but you are still a Weasley.
-Fuck you Y/L/N. You're a pain in the ass.
For the second time tonight, he kisses you. He grabs you by the waist to tackle you against him and there is so much rage in that kiss. It’s incredible, you didn't know that he could feel that way, especially for you. How can you provoke something so powerful in someone you know so little about ? But you dive in, it’s sincere and pure, there is no way to refuse a kiss like this. Anyone would want to be kissed this way. And that's just one more thing on the list of things you like about Fred Weasley, and you feel it’s changing. He is no longer the boy you want to slap when you meet him, he becomes the boy you like and a part of you is falling for him, you know it.
You're both out of breath when he breaks the kiss, it feels that you put so much energy into it and it’s crazy. You've never felt this way with anyone else, and you’ve never felt so desired.
-I screwed up from the beginning, because I've liked you for months and you're interested in everyone but me. Do you understand that? I don't want to be friends, I want much more. I've said horrible things that I regret as soon as I said them but it makes you react every time. I like how you respond every time, how you put me in my place. You’re a free woman, the most wonderful I have ever met.
You’re startled when you hear the last sentence, looking at him with wide eyes. How can he know about this term ? It's private, you had to say it out loud only two or three times and most of the time you were alone. He spied on you ?
-How do you know for
-Even if I’m loud, I’m a good listener. And maybe one day I was walking down a hallway when I heard you say that you are a free woman and that others are just jealous that you dare to be. Which is true if you ask me.
-Do you realize you're complimenting a woman for the reason you called her a whore ? Are you sure everything's okay in your mind ?
-I know. I’m sorry for all those horrible things I have said to you. You were right to say I'm a chump.
But who is this man ? You laugh when you think back to your story, to what he said and did to you, to what you said and did to him. You've always been like two kids arguing over trifles but always pressing where it hurts. And now you give up, without you seeing it coming he offers you a brand new option.
-Do you know that you're even hotter when you apologize for being an asshole than when you're an asshole ?
-I didn't know that, but I'm taking note of it.
-Maybe we should kiss one more time.
-I thought I didn't know how to kiss.
-I lied. Let's not lie anymore.
Your arms hug Fred while you look at him with a new smile on your face. It's like one of those novels where enemies become lovers. What has just happened has something unreal and almost ridiculous. What will the others say when they see you going down hand in hand ? But you remember you don't care what other people think, you do what you fucking want.
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saiilorstars · 3 years
Text
Rise Up
Ch.11: Black Orchid
Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist
Pairings: Barry Allen x OFC
Chapter Summary: Following a tip from a time travelling friend, Belén starts the endeavor to find a way into the Green: a world for all botanist metahumans. She goes in search of a potential ally from another botanist metahuman, Black Orchid, who seems like she would rather work alone.
Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.
Taglist: @ocfairygodmother​ @anotherunreadblog​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​ @stareyedplanet​ @perfectlystiles​ [If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!]
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"So...Mom knows about you?" Maritza watched her sister's uncomfortable form on the other side of the glass. Belén gave a silent nod of her head. She'd told Maritza about her mother finding out, in the worst way possible, she was the Azalea. "Gosh, Belén...she didn't take it well, did she?"
Belén shook her head. "Nope. She's moved on from the 'I'm ignoring you' phase and she's onto full fledged anger."
"I think the word 'metahuman' is just tarnished for her after everything that's happened," Maritza said, though in no way did she mean to give their mother a pass on her behavior. "I'm sorry."
"No, this one's not on you. It's on me," Belén sighed. "I thought that maybe after telling her my secret, things between us might start getting better again, but…"
"I'm sorry," Maritza felt the need to say again. After everything Belén had told her, going from their mother's challenging personality to the metahumans hunting them down...Maritza could only say 'sorry'. She wished, wished, that she could do something to help Belén but her past choices have prohibited her from. "I really wish I could help you out there."
Belén found it in her to smile. She didn't know how, or when, but coming to see Maritza had stopped being a chore and more like...a way to relieve stress. She could tell Maritza everything that was going on and not be judged. She hadn't quite forgiven Maritza for everything she did last year, but...Belén could say she was getting there.
Feeling her phone buzz inside her pocket, Belén gave it a quick check and found a text from Iris. She had to say goodbye to Maritza in order to meet back at STAR Labs.
~ 0 ~
Iris had done her job as best as she could and when she wanted to, she could almost be like a spy the way she found information on people. She had pulled up a profile of a woman dressed in a black and magenta suit with an over-sized jacket. Soon as Cisco saw the picture he let out a wolf whistle, along with questions about her specific clothing choice.
"This is why I do the suits, just saying," he raised his hands to show he was just making a statement...a true statement.
"Who are we looking at, Iris?" Belén asked, brown eyes already scanning the woman's picture till it burned in her mind.
"She calls herself Black Orchid," Iris began. She rose from her seat and zoomed in on the picture of woman. "As far as anyone knows, she's a meta with - take a guess - plant-based powers who usually appears in the lower parts of the city."
"The slummy parts?" Barry figured that would be the best place to lay low and still make a name for themselves.
"She's not known for always appearing when needed, but she's still known enough to have search engine results," Iris scrolled through some of her pictures, stopping at a familiar tab. "This is actually from my old blog. People still send me stuff and take a look at the date for this post."
Belén walked up to the screen to find the date stamp. The picture was of Black Orchid holding up one, no doubt, petty thief in her arms in front of a crowd of people. "That's last month." She turned sideways, one finger pointed behind her at the picture. "She's an active meta, then."
"It's been weeks since her last appearance but do you know what's interesting about that too? It's right around the time Datura and you fought for the first time."
"Could it be that's she's scared of Datura, then?" Caitlin's theory made sense since pretty much everyone in the room feared the siphoner.
"It also means she's keeping up with the news and thus still very much in the city," Barry crossed his arms.
"So, why exactly are we looking for this girl?" Cisco made the question he'd been dying to ask ever since Iris made them gather in the cortex.
Belén walked back to the main desk and put her arms over them, nervous for some reason. It wasn't like her friends would call her crazy for what she wanted to do, after all. "Graciela mentioned a place to me - the Green - that I could use to contact other metahumans that are like me. It's a place like the Speedforce, if you will, where I could train and...meet metas like me. Meta who could help me get better so that I can fight Datura and actually stand a chance."
"And you think Black Orchid will be that meta?" Cisco languidly pointed at the picture on the screen.
"With any luck, she's got a better handle on her powers," Belén shrugged. "And I can pretty much use any help I can get."
"It's worth a shot," Barry agreed with her. "We just have to find her and bring her in."
"Like...here?" Caitlin blinked. She hadn't made that connection until now. "Do we think that'd be a good idea? Revealing where the Azalea and the Flash work?"
"She's obviously taking on crime already," Iris gestured to the pictures she'd collected. "She could be a good addition to the team."
"Black Orchid was a villain on my Earth before she disappeared," Harry startled the group from behind. He'd come in as quiet as usual and strode down the room with purpose. He came to a stop in front of the pictures on the screen and gazed at them for a few seconds. "You should be careful. She's as toxic as you, Belén."
"But she's not a villain here, clearly," Belén said. "And I actually need her to be toxic, okay?"
Harry turned sideways, giving them all a look that said 'you're all idiots and are going to get killed'. "Bringing in more metahumans into this is only going to blow up in your face. You want to take Datura down? You kill her already."
"Easier said than done," Belén folded her arms. "And I'm not exactly looking to kill her."
"She is with you."
"Okay," Barry cut in before Harry's imprudence got worse. "Thank you, Harry, for your input but this is something Belén wants to do. I support her and so does everyone else."
Harry scoffed lightly. "Course you do. Cos you're all idiots."
"Do you have a better idea?" Cisco called from behind. "No?" he let a few more seconds of silence pass by before saying, "Then hush!"
"Thanks guys," Belén sent her friends a warm smile. "And thanks Iris for searching. My head's been all over the place, so…"
Iris nodded at her. "Any time. I can keep looking if you want."
"I say we focus on Black Orchid right now," Belén glanced at the screen. "We need to find her, so...yeah. Let's focus on where she appears most."
As the group made plans to continue searching for Black Orchid, eventually dispersing from the room, Harry inched closer to the super suits left on display. He looked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone in the room then yanked off Belén's suit tracker. He then gingerly planted a decoy in its place. For Jessie.
~ 0 ~
Datura swiftly caught Belén's suit tracker with both her hands and squealed with genuine delight. "Finally!" She held the small device between her fingers and clicked her tongue. "Now the game can finally start!"
Harry stood across her in the alley, his face blank of any expression. "My daughter is safe, right?"
Datura lowered her hand and offered one sneaky smile. "Sure. I do remember to feed her once in a while." She waited for his reaction but he stood frigid. "Don't like my joke? Fine. So-" she tucked the suit tracker into her pocket, "-what's my dear Belén up to now?"
Harry stayed quiet for a few minutes. He hated this so much. A snitch. That's what he was reduced to by some 25 year old in a leather suit. Not just that but a thief and a traitor.
"Wells?" Datura's voice darkened, as did the part of her face Harry could see with her mask. "I need to know what Belén is up to. I might just forget to give Jesse some dinner today."
The mention of his daughter made the man finally move from his stance. "She's looking for the metahuman, Black Orchid."
Datura snorted. "Killed her off a while ago," she mumbled. Her dark eyes met his surprised gaze and caused another sneaky smile to spread across her face. "What? You didn't know that one? Offed her months ago."
"Why?" Harry asked wearily. He would love to finally know what she was planning, what Zoom was planning...but learning that would mean he'd die seconds later.
"She was in my way and I thought she would be the one," Datura's cryptic answer was almost like she hadn't answered at all. All Harry got from that was it just another fight between criminals. "Anyways," she played with one of her long curls, "Let Belén find the doppelganger. No matter how hard she trains she'll never be better than me. It's just impossible." She turned to leave but stopped to give Harry one more warning, "By the way, Zoom might be requiring something from you soon."
At that, Harry gulped.
~ 0 ~
"I think we got a pretty good location, don't you think?" Iris glanced back at Belén to see the woman staring down at the kitchen table that held all of their information on Black Orchid.
They were in Belén's apartment, scouring through every last detail they could find of their meta. Together, they'd found more pictures of Black Orchid, some even when she was in the middle of some pretty gruesome fights.
"She's pretty much all over the slummy streets but, if I counted right, she's appeared at this intersection more than the others," Belén picked up a picture of an intersection that happened to hold a pretty cruddy-looking bar. "I bet you that bar is where we'll find out more about her."
"You want to go there?" Iris made a face at the picture. It was only a picture and it already scared her.
"It's okay, I can go by myself," Belén's reassurance didn't exactly help Iris because she didn't want Belén going there by herself either.
But someone knocked on the door, preventing Iris from voicing these opinions out loud. Belén let the picture back on the table and went to go open the door.
"Mom?" she blinked in surprise to see Veronica. Of course, when the surprise faded she was pretty relieved - and perhaps partly excited - to see her. "Come in!"
Veronica, in her part, still looked pretty unsure of herself. She walked in and gave a brief, small smile at Iris. "You're busy…"
"Yeah, but, don't worry. You wanted to talk?" Belén's excitement did not go unnoticed by Veronica.
With a sigh, Veronica shrugged. "I would like to, but...I don't know if it'll change things." She walked towards the kitchen and noticed all the papers sprawled across the table. "Were you two working?"
Iris didn't know what to respond with. She looked to Belén for some help, or clues, as to what to say. Would Belén want to disclose what they were actually doing or keep it away from Veronica?
"Yeah, we're looking for someone," Belén came to stand beside her mother, looking pretty unsure herself.
"A meta?" the distaste in Veronica's tone was clear for anyone to pick up on. She picked up a photograph of Black Orchid and frowned. "So you're really deep into this metahuman world."
"I have to be, Mom. I'm one of them," Belén said quietly and with eyes boring onto her mother's face for a reaction.
"Don't…" Veronica seemed to shiver at the reminder of Belén's metahuman side. "I wish you wouldn't say that so openly."
"Why not? It's the truth."
"Yes, but…" Veronica stopped and glanced at Iris. Just as the reporter was about to announce her departure, Veronica caught her off guard with a question. "How do you let her do this? How can you just let Belén go into this dangerous world and be okay with it?"
"Mom!" Belén exclaimed disapprovingly, but Iris was good with quick responses thanks to her line of work.
"Because it's her choice and, to be honest, she's a perfect fit for the job," Iris crossed her arms. "She and Barry are the perfect people to protect us. And people like us-" she pointed at herself then Veronica, "-have a duty to help them wherever we can. That includes being supportive."
Veronica's face was indescribable. On some part, she seemed impressed with the response...but then another part was angry Iris wasn't taking her side. "Well...you would say that," she said in the end in a low mumble, "Barry's your brother...does Joe know about this?" Iris didn't have to say or do anything for Veronica to know. "Course he does because he's your father."
"Mom, I thought we were going to talk…" Belén inwardly sighed. She should've known that Veronica would not get over this so quickly. At least there was no shouting this time.
"Belén, I just don't understand why you are so fixated on this...this world!"
"Because it's my world, mom. And I can't abandon it when there's so many people that could get hurt if I do."
Veronica shook her head. "I-I think we need to continue this another day because…"
Belén didn't want to keep pausing this argument because every time they did, it just dragged on the feelings more. But she also feared that if they kept going in one go, they really would just end up shouting at each other like the other times. At least this case seemed to be so grave for Veronica that she wasn't shouting. She was thinking. She may be thinking the wrong things but at least she was thinking…
"I'm here...whenever you want to pick up on things…" she said quietly.
Iris sympathized for her friend while Veronica walked out. "Bells, I'm so sorry."
"No," Belén sniffed and turned back for the table, eyes flickering from one picture to the other. "I need to focus on this."
"Yeah, but-"
"-Iris, I have to focus on this first. Maybe my mom just needs some more days to process this." Belén wanted to believe this so badly.
~ 0 ~
The pictures of Central City's slum parts did no justice to its reality. There was a lot more graffiti on the walls, a lot more trash on the streets. A lot of people were ruder and definitely looking for something to pick-pocket. Belén kept her arms crossed over her chest as she walked down the street. She found the bar from the picture she and Iris were looking at and went directly inside.
There was a foul odor at the entrance that she wished she could forget.
"Take a seat with me sweetheart," she heard a man say as she walked in.
"Screw off," she spat without sparing him a glance. She came up to the bar counter, which was pretty empty save for two more customers at the end. She pulled her phone out and left it on the counter in front of her, just in case she needed to snap pictures or look at one of the ones she already have.
A tall Asian woman with long, dark hair came by a couple minutes later. "What can I get you?"
"Um…" Belén wasn't that big of a drinker, and much less during the day so she just asked for a mimosa. While she waited, she began to look around the bar with more searching eyes. She didn't see anyone that would necessarily stand out. Everyone seemed to be doing their own things, whether it was legal or not.
"Here you go," the bar tender returned with the bright orange drink in her hand. As she put the glass down, her eyes lingered on Belén for a few seconds. "You looking for someone?" her tough voice startled Belén. When the woman nearly fell off her stool, the bartender smiled. "You're not from around here."
"That easy to tell?" Belén bit her lower lip.
"Yeah. Don't walk alone in these parts."
"Is it really that bad here?"
The bartender nodded her head. She popped a bubble from her bubble gum and smirked. "Not if you know how to take care of yourself."
Belén saw some odd marks on the side of the woman's neck. She was sure there were some stitches poking up from her blouse. "Are you okay?" she pointed at the injuries, startling the bartender for a moment.
"Yeah. Just got into it with someone, no big deal." The bartender seemed to shift from friendly to brief. "My name's Shivhan if you want to leave a tip," she said before walking away.
Belén picked up her mimosa and had a couple sips from it. As she was putting it down, she heard a familiar voice behind her that nearly made her spill the glass.
"You are beautiful but crazy," Barry stood behind her and not too pleased.
Belén turned her stool sideways so she could see him. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Iris told me you were coming here! Belén!" he whisper-hissed as he sat down next to her. "This is a shady place to be at on your own, Bells. How could you come here alone?"
"Um, because I'm a big girl who can take care of herself?"
Barry deadpanned her. That's not what he meant and she knew it. "It never hurts to have backup. Besides, do you even know what you'd say to Black Orchid if you found her?"
"No, but...I'm a reporter. I'd wing it," Belén picked up her mimosa again and smiled.
Barry shook his head at her. "Alright, so what do have? Any clues?"
"Not really. I was just kind of scoping the area out," Belén shrugged and briefly looked back at the room. "But there's barely any people here and those who are, are definitely not Black Orchid."
Barry could agree with that since almost every customer in the building were men. "Maybe we should try later."
"I'm hoping something will happen that would make Black Orchid appear."
"Bit cynical," remarked Barry.
"Desperate." Belén sighed and forgot about her glass as she turned her stool to face the room. "I don't know, maybe we could speed things up or something."
"Like how?"
"Well...Black Orchid seems to appear whenever there's trouble, so…"
Barry was giving her a strange look. "You want us to stage a fight?"
"Something like that."
"I don't know about that Belén...I think we need to come up with a good plan and then-"
Belén was about to cut him off with the fact they didn't - or rather she didn't - have time to sit down and plan, when they heard a loud crash from outside. At once Belén jumped off her stool and tried to peer out into the street from her spot.
"Fight! Fight!" a crowd sitting near the door started to chant, prompting some delirious laughter from the room. It was only a matter of seconds before they rushed out into the streets.
"Creeps," Shivhan, the bartender, spat while she continued to wipe down the counter.
Barry got up as well and sprinted up to the window to see what was going on. Belén soon followed and saw with him that there were a couple of masked thieves making out of a shop with some valuables. Two of them had guns.
"We gotta do something," Barry rushed out the door but just as he was about to leave the sidewalk, Belén yanked him to her side.
"This is our chance!"
"Belén, someone could get hurt!"
"They won't because you'll intervene if she's not here in 1 minute," Belén promised then faced the street.
The thieves were trying to make an escape but there were being confronted with another group intending on taking the stolen valuables. Just as they were about to fire, something purple swooped down and punched the two gunmen from the first thief band.
"I told you…" Belén sounded breathless as she gazed at none other than Black Orchid. Barry had to hand it to her and her precise thinking.
Black Orchid was a feared presence by most of the people outside, judging how they stepped back. From what they could see, the meta had long, dark hair and dark eyes hidden behind a black mask that covered half her face. She wore a one-suit in the colors of black and violet. It was the same one Iris had shown them earlier.
Black tendrils sprouted from the woman's back and captured three of the men. She threw them halfway down the street without regards of where they hit or how hard they hit. She then ducked to avoid being hit by one of the men behind her. She jumped back up and kicked a leg up to knock the man down. As bullets fired towards her, she used her vines to create a shield where the bullets embedded themselves. Once she disbanded the shield, she sent the bullets right back and injured two more men. The last two remaining were from each of band and they both looked equally terrified.
"Drop it and go," she ordered in a rough voice.
The two instantly dropped their stolen things and made a run for it. Black Orchid raised three fingers and when she'd pulled them down, her arm did a boomerang action and released two different black masses that attached themselves to the men.
"Barry, we gotta get her alone," Belén spoke quietly to the speedster next to her.
"But how?" Barry looked around and saw that while the thieves had been taken down - killed, really - the crowd around them was still watching Black Orchid like hawks.
"I brought something with me," Belén admitted. Barry looked down at her and saw her reaching into her purse. She showed him the tip of a syringe. His eyes widened at it but before he could say something she said, "It's a sedative."
"Belén, we can't really do-"
"-I need her, Barry," she told him like this was already decided with or without him. "Datura is going to kill me if I don't up my game. Black Orchid can help me do that."
There was some questionable tactics Barry saw Black Orchid far too comfortable with, but he knew that he could stand there and argue with Belén without making a difference. "Fine." He took the syringe from her and disappeared. A minute later, so did Black Orchid.
When Belén felt a set of arms pull her as well, she smiled. She found herself in an alley where Black Orchid was already down with sedation. "Thank you," she said to the speedster.
Barry gazed down at the unconscious metahuman. "I don't think she'll be thanking us for this."
~0~
Team STAR Labs was never one for kidnapping. So when Barry and Belén brought in a guest, kidnapped and unconscious, they had much to say over the matter.
"This is not legal," Caitlin was the first to say, or scold, at the two metas. Barry and Belén stood in the middle of the cortex, listening to everyone having their go at them. "You kidnapped someone!"
"Well, if I asked she wouldn't have come," Belén argued. "You guys didn't see her out there. She's tough."
"And you think you need to be the same?" Cisco's doubtful stare made her roll her eyes.
"I need to change something and she can help me figure out what."
"Least she's taking initiative," Harry inputted his own opinion, surprising Belén that he was actually siding with her since he originally didn't agree with the plan of finding Black Orchid. "You can't always be soft. Especially when someone's trying to kill you."
"Uh, thanks Harry," she offered the man a small smile before looking at Caitlin and Cisco. "I'm not hurting her. I just needed to get her here so I could talk to her."
"And if she doesn't want to help?" asked Cisco.
"Let's hope she does."
"Well…" Caitlin has looked up from a computer, "... now's your chance. She just woke up."
~0~
Black Orchid was a woman who could be scary. Her balled fists repeatedly pounded against the pipeline pod. "LET ME OUT!" She screamed and screamed the same thing.
Cisco honestly thought the pod wouldn't last if this kept going.
Black Orchid only stopped when she saw someone coming into the pipeline. She straightened up and raised her head to judge if this person was going to help or not. "Who are you?" She didn't have to wait for a verbal answer since she saw clear as day who was on the other side. "The Azalea? Hm. That's a shocker. Would you let me go? I didn't do nothing wrong."
"You did kill people…" Belén reminded, though not as a way to punish her.
"They're thugs! It's kill or be killed!"
"Look, I'm not here to talk about who you killed or how many you killed. I need your help."
Black Orchid dropped her arms to her sides. Her chin raised again and though she had a mask on, Belén swore she was being judged. "Why would the Azalea need my help?"
"Because Datura is a dangerous metahuman that I cannot stop if you don't teach me how to get into the Green."
Black Orchid lowered her head. "Excuse me? The Green? You know about that?" Belén nodded her head. "But you don't know how to get in?"
"Have you ever seen me in there?" Belén made a good point.
Black Orchid crossed her arms and looked around the pod she was trapped in. "And you thought the best way to get me to help you was to lock me up?"
"Not my best idea but I really needed to have a minute with you."
"Here's the thing, I don't trust you. And, let's be honest, you don't trust me." Black Orchid inched closer to the glass wall. "I'm not training anyone. In this world, it's all about yourself. I need to look out for myself."
"Well, that's a pretty way of looking at life," Belén remarked. "But look, I really need your help. Datura is coming back-"
"-then you fight her off. She's your fight, not mine. Why do you think I've hidden for a month now? I'm not looking to get killed."
"But if you don't help me a lot of people are going to die!"
"Better them than me," Black Orchid said so plainly, so flatly, that Belén's mouth almost fell to the floor.
"How could you...how could you say that?"
"Because it's the truth. Self preservation."
Belén was flabbergasted to hear such a thing.
~0~
"I cannot believe she said that!" Belén stormed into the cortex, looking ready to kill someone herself. "How rude! How...selfish!"
"Sorry it didn't work out, Bells," Cisco meant as a true apology but she scoffed at him.
"Are you, though? You weren't even on board with the idea in the first place!"
Cisco made a face but, knowing she was just upset, he kept his mouth shut. He, did, however, give a look at Barry and Caitlin. Someone else needed to step in.
"Belén, maybe we just need to give her some time," Barry's suggestion was also responded with a scoff.
"I don't have time!" She groaned and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Caitlin called after her.
"Out! Don't follow!"
"She's m-a-d mad," Cisco whistled then quickly looked back to see if Belén had heard.
"She's upset, and with good reason," Barry rubbed his forehead. "Let's just keep an eye on her. She took the suit so-"
"-she's really mad," Cisco blurted and received a disapproving look from Caitlin. Barry just sighed.
"She turned off the tracker in her suit," Caitlin informed a few minutes later.
"Not surprising," Barry mumbled and moved over to see the screen himself. "She couldn't have gotten far. I'll go get her. See if I can talk to her."
He zipped out of the cortex with his suit, intending on finding Belén and bringing her back. However, it turned out Belén was very good at hiding. It'd been at least an hour of him scouring through the city before he gave up and asked for some additional help. Caitlin and Cisco were monitoring as usual, but, like Barry, they didn't have a clue where Belén went. It was like she disappeared.
"I've gone through all the places she usually goes to, I'm starting to get worried," Barry admitted. He stood at the top of a rooftop overlooking the busy streets of the city. It was fine that Belén wanted to have some time alone but two hours of no contact felt wrong.
"Uh, we got something, Barry!" Cisco exclaimed.
"Did you find her?" Barry quickly asked, ready to go as soon as they gave him a place.
"Yeah, um…looks like some warehouse off on Third and Carson street."
"That's weird," remarked Caitlin. "That whole block is for warehouses. What could Belén be doing there?"
"Don't know but we're going to find out," Barry said before speeding down the building he was on. He followed the instructions from the two and didn't bother coming in cautiously. He skidded to a stop and looked around the empty warehouse. "Belén?" he called out and received no answer. "Belén!"
"What's going on, Barry?" Cisco asked after the third failed call for Belén.
"She's not here," Barry ripped the cowl off his head and started walking down the left. There was something making a light noise coming from that direction. "But I...I don't think this warehouse is empty…"
"Belén's tracker says she's there, dude," Cisco insisted, though he was going through the tracker's ping just to make sure.
"Well, I don't see her," Barry kept walking forwards, now spotting something silvery round the corner. "Belén?"
"Barry, be careful," Caitlin warned. She was beginning to think there was something wrong with this entire situation. As if the world was reading her mind, she got a different type of alert on her computer screen.
Barry reeled back when a redhead swung from the side. "Hi there pretty boy," Poison Ivy showed off a smug smirk before firing at the speedster with a high-tech gun.
"Barry!" Cisco shouted as the computer stopped getting readings from Barry's vitals, his entire suit's actually. "Everything's gone offline." Cisco leaned back against his chair and heaved a heavy breath.
"Caitlin!" they both heard Belén's voice shriek from the other end of the line.
The two in the cortex did a quick double-take at each other before calling out their friend's name.
"Where are you!?" Caitlin demanded while she worked to figure out how the meta alert was coming from one part while Belén's tracker was pinging from another.
"Downtown! And I'm -" Belén shrieked again.
As it turned out, she was nowhere near close Barry's location. She didn't know how it happened, to be honest. She'd been sulking on her own for a while when she started to see some familiar red energy from a distance. Trained or not, she was not planning on giving Datura a pass. She chased after the energy until it led her downtown…
Datura had sucker-punched her from behind. She seemed to be on a different plan because even though she had a clear, open path to hurt Belén again, she walked past the woman on the ground and moved towards a street pole. Her eyes glowed an orange before shooting lasers at the street pole.
As Belén turned on her stomach, she saw the bottom of the street pole begin to steam as the acid from the lasers melted it away.
"Better, run, run, run!" Datura sing-sang to the people around when the street pole started creaking and leaning on its side.
"Oh, dammit," Belén muttered and scrambled to her feet. She started throwing vines to pull away the people in danger of getting squashed.
Datura boredly rolled her eyes as if saving people was a waste of time, and to her it was. When Belén pulled the last person out of the way, Datura rubbed her hands together and created a sword from her red energy.
"Uh oh," Belén had the good sense to back away. "Caitlin!" she started to call but for some reason, no one answered her. "Caitlin!"
"Where are you!?" Caitlin demanded so suddenly that, if Belén had been more focused, she would've picked up on the fact something was wrong.
"Downtown! And I'm -" Belén shrieked and ducked when Datura threw her sword at her. "It's Datura! She's back!"
"And ready to win," Datura said with a proud smile. Her eyes glowed silver, as did her hands. She radiated in Lunar energy, something Belén hadn't quite seen before and was therefore a little scared. "The power of Eclipsa-" Datura's smile widened, but Belén once again noticed there was a different voice speaking with Datura's, -is mine. Here's a little taste of what I can do!" She drew her hands back and started firing consecutively with lunar bolts.
Belén whipped her hands in front of her and tried doing what she saw Black Orchid doing earlier. She created a makeshift shield in front of her but Datura was going nonstop. "Caitlin, I really need Barry right now!"
"I - we thought he was with you!" Cisco exclaimed. "We lost contact with him!"
That made Belén automatically drop her shield in shock. "What!?" A series of lunar bolts hit her square in the chest, knocking her back on the ground. She shook her head in an attempt to rid her ears of the warped sounds. "Caitlin...where's...Barry?"
"We're working on it!"
"Oooh, are you looking for your partner?" Datura started walking towards Belén who was sitting up. "Yay-high?" She made a gesture of Barry's height over her head, "Red suit? Admittedly good looking?" Belén openly glared at her, making the woman laugh. "Don't be jealous. But, I do know where your Flash is."
Belén paused and gave Datura a look. "What?" She quickly got up and, to Datura's surprise, she swung a vine to throw the Earth 2 meta into a bus stop bench. "If you hurt him-"
Datura raised a hand and delivered a shock of electricity Belén's way. The brunette screamed as her body convulsed with the electric shocks.
Datura slowly got up and felt something over her lip. She took a drip of blood off her skin and scowled at herself. "Great." She walked towards Belén, admittedly feeling wobbly on her feet. "Listen up Azalea, here's the deal. I've got your Flash all nice and unconscious thanks to a speed gun I swept from Earth 2-" she bent down in front of Belén, smirking at the weariness in the woman's face from being attacked, "-and if you want to see him again...you're gonna have to drop this. Poison Ivy doesn't do patience."
Belén blinked rapidly from the electricity still lingering in her body. "I...want to...see him."
Datura smirked. "Thought you would." She raised a hand, making it seem like she was going to wave goodbye when instead she fired one last energy beam to knock Belén out.
~ 0 ~
In the cortex gathered at the cortex after realizing their two leading metas had been taken right under their noses.
"It was a trap," Cisco said quietly, and defeatedly, at his chair. He had his hands put together to the bridge of his nose. "It was a trap and we didn't see it."
"But it doesn't make sense how Datura got Belén's suit tracker in the first place," Caitlin hated the fact she couldn't figure that mystery out. "We didn't even realize it was gone."
From the corner of the cortex stood Harry, still and silent. His jaw was clenched with guilt but he still could not say anything.
"We know where they are," Iris reminded them. She looked at the screen on the wall, displaying the last known whereabouts of Barry. "Let's just go get them."
"First of all, we don't even know if they're still going to be there," Cisco pointed out, dropping his hand to his lap. "Second of all, even if they are still there...what the hell are we supposed to do?" he made a quick gesture at their members. "They'd kill us."
Caitlin set a hand on Cisco's shoulder and gave a smile at the rest. "I think what Cisco's trying to say is that we do not have the...meta-skills to take on Datura and Poison Ivy at the same time."
"Well, we have to do something," Iris walked up to the desk and set her arms over the top. "Can we call in Nina?"
"Even then, taking on these two metas…" Caitlin gave a shake of her head. "She'll need back up."
"Where do we get that from?" Iris looked at the trio expectantly.
Cisco looked up at Caitlin, both apparently thinking of the same thing.
"Wait here," he pushed himself up from his chair. He exchanged a nod with Caitlin before the two walked out of the cortex.
~ 0 ~
After hours of screaming to be released, Black Orchid resigned herself to the fact she may never be getting out of the pipeline. She picked herself up as soon as she heard the pipeline door opening.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded when she was face to face with Caitlin and Cisco.
"Manners," Cisco pointed at her. "We have a proposition for you."
"And why the hell would I care?"
"Because it involves your freedom, smartass," Cisco snapped. Caitlin inwardly sighed. This would definitely infuriate Belén but right now what mattered was bringing her and Barry back.
Black Orchid leaned on her hip. "I'm listening."
"The Azalea and the Flash have been kidnapped by Datura. We need you to help our friend, the Tempest, get them back."
Black Orchid unceremoniously snorted. "You want me to go up against the siphoner this entire city is talking about? She's the reason I stopped showing my face."
"What do you mean?" Caitlin's eyebrows knitted together.
Black Orchid didn't like the fact she'd unintentionally admitted that. "It's clear that this Datura wants to kill anyone in her path. I've seen what she's done to the Azalea. Imagine what she'd do if she found another botanist metahuman? No way!"
Cisco wasn't in a particular mood to remind the woman she was a human being. So, like Belén, he did first and would apologize later. "Fine, then I guess you'll stay here forever. Or at least until you die."
"You wouldn't let me die," scoffed the meta.
"Have you seen any other prisoners here?" Cisco's question made the metahuman pause. "Yeah. What do you think happened to the others in here?"
"You can't do that!"
"Then please help us," Caitlin pleaded. "C'mon. You're afraid and we get that, but if you don't do anything then Datura will kill the Azalea. And, if there's no one left to fight Datura...you're not going to be safe anywhere."
"If I go up against her I'll die right there and then," Black Orchid countered with.
"You said you were hiding from Datura so you didn't show your face," Caitlin reminded. "But the Azalea said you showed your face today after a store got robbed. That doesn't sound like self preservation to me."
"...that was my favorite store," Black Orchid rolled her eyes, attempting to make it all casual.
"Cut the crap, girl!" Cisco exclaimed. "Your freedom's on the table and you're gonna seriously waste it?"
"We can help you," Caitlin added. "We can make sure you're well prepared. We could even help you heal from your past fights." Black Orchid visibly stiffened. "The Azalea told us about some of the stitches she saw on you. And like my friend said, your freedom is on the table."
Black Orchid's dark eyes flickered from one scientist to the next. She knew what her position was and how far she could actually get. It wasn't good. "Fine," she huffed and reached a hand to the back of her head where her mask's tie was. "But I need some stitches to be re-done. So, who's the medical doctor here?" she tore the mask off to reveal a familiar face, though not familiar to Caitlin or Cisco.
Bartender Shivhan Jang stared at the scientists.
Author's Note:
So, first of all, this is a disclaimer for the fact that while I am writing in the character of Black Orchid, I am doing a different VERSION of the character. Black Orchid belongs to the DC world.
Now, the reason I decided to write this character in was because I felt it genuinely wrong she was written and barely got recognition. I never heard of Black Orchid until I started doing research on botanical metahumans for this precise arc. It amazed me she was such a complex character that I just had to write my version of hers.
And a visual reference of Black Orchid, aka Shivhan, would be the Korean singer Sunmi.
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barnesandco · 4 years
Text
Nikah: January
Story Masterlist
Nikah: noun, Arabic, meaning the contract of marriage.
Bucky marries Peter’s former tutor because her student visa’s about to expire and the government isn’t granting her a green card. Can she find a way to permanent residence by marriage, and if so, will it be at the cost of their hearts?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of grief, war.
A/N: Written under the Arranged/Accidental Marriage trope for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s writing challenge. This story will update on weekends, with two chapters each on Saturdays and Sundays. Tags are open, and for now I’m only tagging those on my permanent list. You can always let me know if you want to be added or taken off of something. I look forward to your comments and hope that you enjoy.
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Bucky Barnes did not plan to start the new year as a married man. Not until three weeks ago, when this entire ordeal began. Yet here he is, a gold band on his prosthetic hand that is buried beneath the pillow under his head, while he watches his near-stranger bride sleep next to him. They’ve met in person a grand total of two times, the second being the marriage ceremony itself. Ceremony is an overstatement, he thinks. They eloped. Oh, if his ma could see him now. Bruised and war-torn, reborn from Hydra’s ashes with the marvel of Wakandan technology, married to a woman he hardly knows. And it’s all Peter Parker’s fault.
It had started with his silence. Slowly but surely, the youngest Avenger, known for his jubilant enthusiasm, had become unnervingly quiet. 
One week, and they begin to notice. Curious look and additional encouragements to involve him.
Two weeks, and they suspect he misses Tony more than usual. It’s been several months, but the grief comes and goes in waves. Laughter can turn quickly into tears. Bucky’s seen them smile at a joke and turn to the head of the table, or a corner of the room, looking for Tony or Nat’s response respectively, only for the smile to fall at the proof of their absence. They give him time, Sam gives him a talk, and Pepper, an invitation to lunch at the lakehouse.
Three weeks, and they return from a multiple-week mission and brake outside the kitchen like eavesdropping teenagers. The actual teenagers - Peter and Wanda - are inside discussing something. By the distress in Peter’s voice, it’s whatever’s been bothering him recently.
“-but if the student visa doesn’t expire for another year, why is she applying already?” Wanda’s asking from the stove, stirring a Sokovian soup. Peter puts a Tupperware container of extra chopped vegetables in the fridge. Leans on the marble countertop, sighing.
“She suspected that they might reject her. He PhD ends in June so she’s applying for a green card instead, but immigration policies are stricter now. Especially for people from Muslim countries, and she’s Pakistani. It isn’t fair,” He reiterates, tastes the soup. Anything to distract from his shaking hands. Wanda looks on worriedly. “I just mean- like- she’s been living here for almost ten years. She just wants to be a permanent resident. If they don’t let her, she’ll have to go back. She doesn’t want to, but she’ll have to,” He concludes, opening the tap and initiating clean-up.
“And she’s… important… to you,” Wanda states, looking over her shoulder, giving him room to elaborate.
“She helped me with English class and lit in middle school. She was there when Ben died, when Tony died, she’s just been constant, y’know?” He explains. Wanda puts down the wooden spoon, rests a hand on the counter and absorbs her friend’s morose expression.
“So now what?”
“There’s no way they’ll extend her visa. She’ll probably try again for a green card, but I don’t think it’ll work. If she had a steady job, she could apply for a work visa, but she’s freelance. The only other thing I can think of is marriage to a US citizen.”
He hopes it works. The marriage. Green card by family, by marriage, by him vouching for her. The ring is constricting around his finger, a heavy weight reminding of the sanctity of marriage, and how he’s breaching it. He wonders if she feels the same way. At present, she appears unperturbed, lying on her side facing him. The hand bearing the ring is in front of her face, resting on the pillow like a crown on its pedestal. The scarce daylight, just cloudy watercolor, tip-toes through the gap in his blackout curtains, casting a thing stream of moonlight across her face. Snow day.
They had barely made it to his apartment last night before the blizzard hit. She had been quiet then, even more so than now, when he can at least hear her sleep-steady breaths escape the cage built by the pink pillows of her lips. Eyelashes like snowflakes against the bags under her eyes. 
The mildly disturbing nature of his actions occurs to him, and he decides to stop. Gets out of bed and tenses when she shifts.  The duvet slides down, revealing her white night-gown. Bucky moves, steps as soft and sneaky as fog on the carpet, to her side. Lifts the duvet up to her ching, grazing her silk-clad shoulder in the process. A mumble, and he holds his breath, but thankfully, she stays asleep.
Shutting his - their - bedroom door behind him, he makes for the bathroom first. The shower is scalding hot, and his skin pinks quickly. The Wakandan shampoo is running out. He makes a note to ask Shuri for more, and thinks about what American item to send in return. Dunkin’ Donuts, perhaps. 
Coconut goes well with the raspberry scent of his new wife’s body wash, already embedded in the walls because she takes evening showers. Claims they help her sleep. It didn’t help last night, however, because she tossed and turned throughout, only coming to rest around three. Bucky didn’t fare any better, eyes shutting an hour later. 
He rinses his hair, the condensation from the steam on his arm washing off. Resumes his morning rituals - conditioner, shower gel, rinse, dry off. As he’s towelling himself dry, he takes in the evidence of her presence once again. The bottle of lotion on the vanity, the make-up removal wipes in the cabinet next to his shaving things. Like this is all perfectly normal.
It is, of course, everything but. You don’t marry someone you don’t know. The gravity of his actions tug on his stomach as he walks past the couch he offered to sleep on. He hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable, but she had vehemently refused to kick him out of his own bed. Said she would rather sleep in the snow outside. He’s sure she would have, too, given the excuse, and she would’ve melted the snow into steaming puddles around her, anger coming off red-hot like the sun’s rage.
He lights the stove and fetches the ingredients necessary for pancakes. Opens a recipe on his tablet. Never made them on his own a day in his life - Sam’s are better, but he’ll never tell him that. Something in him just wants to put her at ease. Anyone who cares to look past the stiff demeanor, the jasmine flower in her hair, the reluctant mehndi on her hands, the fire in her eyes, will see resentment. At the government, God, fate, destiny - all scapegoats to blame for putting her in this situation. For reducing her to getting married just to stay in the country she considers home.
Bucky is, too. Resentful, that is. What’s worse is, he doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t understand where the love went. Then he feels guilty, snorts at his own naivete, his blissful ignorance. Lover boy Bucky Barnes. He was never one for politics, he thinks, pouring the first pancake. What little he remembers of his youth wafts up; taking care of Becca, taking care of Steve, taking girls on dates, taking the ship to the war, taking out Nazis. Even in the trenches, where soldiers had a tendency to question Roosevelt, or cuss at Hitler, he’d order them to shut up and shoot. If us fellas were meant to do nothin’ but talk, we’d be in Congress already, but we ain’t. So quit blabberin’ and do your jobs.
The second pancake is on the platter. A door opens somewhere down the hall. He waits, still and patient, as footsteps enter the bathroom and the sound of his sizzling frying pan and running water washes out the anxiety of talking to her. He will have to, at some point or the other. They live together. She had suggested briefly that they not, hadn’t wanted to burden him, but he reminded her of his public image. People would most certainly notice if he wasn’t living with his wife, and then where would they be?
Said wife is now in the kitchen, wringing her hands, the glass bangles - chooriyan - chiming, and he pretends to be unaware. 
“James?” This plan doesn’t last very long, and he turns to see that she’s wearing what he would call a tunic if Peter hadn’t taught him it’s a kameez - he’s been giving him desi culture lessons - over a pair of jeans.
“Just Bucky, please. Mornin’. Sleep well?” He returns to the pancakes, blushing at his ineptitude. Tries to convince himself it’s okay, she’s an introvert, too. She’s uncomfortable around new people, too. The pancake tower is now five high.
“You should’ve woken me. Why are you making breakfast by yourself?” She ignores his question, a question he doesn’t know why he asked if he knows the answer to, and comes up to stand next to him at the counter.
“Why would I do that? I can cook, you know,” He says, only half in jest, the joke the first of the day, of the year, of their relationship. She smiles - a reward.
“Yeah, but still…” She trails off, then shakes away what’s troubling her. Bucky files that response under Things to Worry About Later. “I can see that you can cook. A little too well, it seems,” She laughs, gesturing to the sizable stack. “Can you eat five pancakes?” She asks with wonder.
“What do you mean?” 
“I can’t eat more than two, and you just flipped your seventh one, so that means you’ll have to-”
“Don’t worry. They’ll be gone before you can say super-metabolism,” He reassures, and she nods dubiously.
“Can I at least set the table?” Bucky looks at her, soft and kind and wise, wishes that she didn’t have to experience this. Forcing a marriage to stay in the place she loves. What has the world come to?
He shows her where the plates are, sets about pulling out various pancake toppings. Syrup, honey, berries, Nutella. She places the plates on the table, brings him the pot of coffee he forgot he made. Finally, they sit. Minutes of utensils colliding and the pancake stack diminishing pass before either of them say anything. She pours him coffee.
“Thanks. You didn’t pour any for yourself,” He says, frowning around a mouthful of blueberries. 
“I don’t drink coffee?”
“Tea?”
“Yeah, but-” Bucky begins to get up but she reaches for his hand, chooriyan clinking against the vibranium. “I don’t feel like it today,” She tells him, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“You should’ve said something,” He says, upset at not being able to provide for a guest, the guest who’s going to be staying for a while. She shakes her head, spreads Nutella across her second pancake.
“It’s not that big a deal,” She laughs, cutting a piece. “Some days I feel like it and some days I don’t.”
“Okay.”
They finish breakfast in silence, and Bucky drinks more coffee than he should. She’s just picked up the dishes and is picking up a bottle of dish soap when Bucky opens the dishwasher and and takes both the dishes and the soap from her hands. Rinses and stacks them, then looks up at her as he’s drying his hands, still kneeling at the dishwasher. Observes the protest turn to surprise and then to veiled joy, and thinks: they might just make it through this.
Taglist:  @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @readerandcinephileingeneral​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​
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for-emilia · 3 years
Text
Taking The Media By Storm.
enjoy, i love u lots x
Being in the public eye wasn’t Dele’s favourite part of his job. Don't get him wrong, he loves the fans and, of course, he’d never complain about the free PR and perks of that manner, but sometimes it felt like eyes were on him constantly, critiquing every single aspect of his life. All footballers go through it to some extent but from his debut, Dele has always had more intense scrutiny from the media than most. It was truly unfair and he hated it, the media clung to him like a parasite, and there’s nothing he could do about it.
It made all aspects of his life harder and more tedious, but there’s one aspect the media loved to hone in on and make extra torturous: his love life.
He had met Emilia 6 months ago. He wasn’t particularly looking for anything or on the hunt for a relationship but everything fell into place and it was the happiest he’d ever been. Dele tended to not actively look for love, partly because Sally engraved into him that “love finds you”, and partly, again, because of the media. Being a well known athlete meant it was difficult to differentiate between the girls who truly did like him and the ones who liked his fame and fortune. With Emilia he didn’t even consider if she had ill-intent, he knew from the first night that she had a heart of gold. In their initial meeting, it helped that she was a Chelsea fan, that in itself gave away how much she liked him, she’d not touch a lilywhite with a 10ft bargepole; Dele was an exception.
They’d silently agreed to keep things to themselves as they navigated their way through the first stages of the relationship. Dele had seen how horrific the media was to his teammates’ girlfriend’s and wives, quick to brandish them as gold diggers or tear apart their appearance and invade their privacy, and that’s the last thing he wanted for the gorgeous girl who had fallen into his life, especially not because of him.
-
The first few months consisted of sneaky late night drives and meeting up inside either one of their houses, slowly getting to know each other before making any decisions regarding how serious they were or taking it public. After a few months, it became less casual and Emilia found herself, to her own disbelief, in the stands watching Dele do what he does best on the pitch. Weeks passed by before their eyes as they relaxed into it, Dele knowing every week that Chelsea played away, Emilia would be cheering him on in the stands instead, going perfectly undetected due to the mass crowds around her and her obvious aversion to wearing a Spurs jersey with his name on the back. But it became harder to hide as time went on. Dele had posted a few stories here and there of dinners, clearly only being consumed by him and one other, or a boomerang on his story of a film set up on the tv in front of a blanket, so people were suspiciously questioning his relationship status. However, not a single eye was on Emilia… until the paparazzi got the better of them one match day. It was the second Alli Derby day they’d endured in their relationship, a cold November night filled with tension and expectation ending with a tight 0-1 win to Chelsea, with Dele involved in commotion more than once, earning himself a yellow card well into the second half. The media knew how stressed and riled up Dele could get so at the news of him receiving a yellow card, swiftly followed by him being subbed off, they set up their cameras just outside the stadium car park to snap photos of his angry demeanor to plaster all over their articles. Their narrative soon changed as they got more than they bargained for as the camera rolls filled with photos of Emilia climbing into the passenger's seat. Mere hours after the final whistle, photos of ‘Dele Alli’s mystery Chelsea-clad woman’ were circling the internet, some people theorising she was a fan who needed a lift home after various incidents they were imagining, some claiming she was a friend of his sister’s or even a cousin who simply went to go and watch him, but the most obvious shout was that Emilia was Dele’s girlfriend. The pair sat together, thankful for a distraction from the stress of the match and Dele's uproar, now figuring out what to do about this new stress.
-
“So, Dele, you’re taking the media by storm at the moment?” the interviewer laughed as Dele, fresh off the pitch, brought his hands up covered by his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, giving a breathy giggle followed by, “yeah, I guess you could say that.”
The interviewer proceeded to ask him about the 1-4 win, Dele having involvement in all 4 goals, particularly focusing on the hattrick from the man himself.
“One freekick, a header and top bins goal, of course not forgetting the goal you put on a plate for your good friend Son, how does it feel?”, Dele went through the usual procedure of a post match interview, beaming from ear to ear and clutching the Man Of The Match trophy close to his chest, glancing down at it every so often and widening his grin.
In the midst of his high, he forgot all about the speculation swimming the internet, until the interviewer brought it up with no way to get out of it.
“Even before tonight, you’ve been a hot topic in the media, haven’t you?” he inched towards asking the real question, you could see the cogs turning in Dele’s brain before his smile faltered a bit, thinking up what his reply would be to the next question inevitably coming his way, “the hot question at the moment, Dele, what happened after the derby on Saturday?”.
“I was just trying to go home to be honest, it was a rough match, with the loss and me being given a yellow rightfully or not, so yeah we just wanted to go home but the paps are always around,” he gave the sort of laugh that’s more like just an expulsion of air and rubbed over the back of his neck. He looked slightly uncomfortable but the small smile on his face said otherwise, obviously thinking about the pretty girl in his car.
“I’ll take that ‘we’ as all the confirmation people want.. I have to say, it’s not often you see a player dating an opposition fan, especially not from the same city. I hope I’m not stepping a line when I ask this but, how do you navigate that situation?” the interviewer held the microphone closer to Dele’s mouth, ensuring he doesn’t miss any of the gossip.
Dele half scoffed, thinking all decency and ‘lines’ are abolished in today’s media, knowing none of them give a fuck as long as they have a story and are harbouring clicks for them. In truth, they navigated the situation with a lot of angry sex but he couldn’t say that, trying to surpress the various images drifting through his mind and scramble to think of a suitable response.
“We don’t,” he pauses for a second to laugh at his own joke before continuing, “nah yknow, we have our ways, we make it work... I’m not just a Spurs player and she’s much more than a Chelsea fan.”
He panics a little bit knowing he’s just outed them on live television but they’d discussed it and agreed it wouldn’t be too bad, only 6 months in but it felt like 6 years and neither of them had any doubts it’d last a lifetime. Looking down at his MOTM trophy, he smiled knowing what he was going home to and the welcome he would get as a well done for his hattrick.
Dele didn’t say much, quickly wrapping up the interview after that and walking into the tunnel to head for his phone to read his girlfriend’s reaction, undoubtful that she was watching everything he said.
Emilia (19:22)
here we goooooo
Emilia (19:23)
not an invasion of privacy my arse
Emilia (19:23)
much more than a chelsea fan huh?
Emilia (19:23)
ur cute
Emilia (19:24)
and sexy
Emilia (19:26)
stop wiping your brow like that its arousing
Emilia (19:28)
now get dressed quick quick quick smelly boy x
Emilia (now)
i love u
-
Dele couldn’t help but mention Emilia in interviews. Without a doubt, her name or a reference to his girl always came up. It got to the point where the other lads involved would place bets on how many times it would happen and challenge him to not do it, but it seemed an impossible task for the man in love.
During an interview for Soccer Saturday, he was asked about his injuries and his setbacks throughout the past few seasons and how he coped with it and snapped back to match fitness like he always did.
“It must be rough for you, not being out on the pitch doing what you do best, Dele, how do you deal with that every time? Does it get any easier?” Dele scrunched his nose up at the question, he hated thinking about and talking of his injuries.
“Yeah, you know it’s the worst feeling in the world just wanting to be up there helping the team out but not being able to, it’s unbelievably frustrating. But I have a great team of physios around me and available at Spurs to help and get me back as soon as possible, and all of the lads still make sure that anyone injured is still involved in team things so that’s amazing,” his mouth turned up at the sides at the thought of his next sentence. “I have my brother at home with me who’s my best friend so he tries to keep my morale up, as well as my girlfriend Emilia who is always by my side and knows me better than anyone else, yeah she’s amazing.. always cooking for me and looking after me even when I’m not injured” he laughs out.
In the same interview even she came up again, later on when he was asked about the fan presence at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium.
“How much do the fans on a match day influence your performance? Do you think it helps significantly to hear the fans singing your chants and acting almost as the 12th man on the team?” he asks, and Dele thinks it's an extremely obvious answer.
“Oh definitely, nothing compares to 40,000 people singing your name or celebrating alongside you when you put one in the back of the net, having fan presence at the games means everything to us. Makes losses easier and wins even sweeter. Of course a lot of us have our families and friends in the stadium as well which tops it all off, most matches I know that my girlfriends up in the same box, and it always helps to look up at her cheering me on when me or the team is doing bad, or to look up at her little smile when I score, makes everything feel worth it.”
-
Even a year or so later, he was sat parallel to Eric making another of the iconic roommates videos for England. Eric had already had his turn to answer the questions while Dele guessed, getting himself a respectable ⅘. But now it was Eric’s turn to guess.
“Question 2: What’s the first thing Dele does after a match?” Eric rolls his eyes already knowing the answer, “A) gets a massage, B) texts the missus, C) has a shower”
He cranes his neck to turn and look at Dele doing some stupid wiggle to a song playing through his headphones before turning around and finishing the question.
“Well the answer is B, texts his missus, but he’s had your life there with that answer, the woman’s normally waiting in the tunnel for him, or if she’s not then yes he texts her immediately.. then sends her a photo.. then calls her.. then ignores all of us and leaves to get back to her, they’re like magnets,” Eric muses warmly, rolling his eyes and making fun of them both but deep down he loves it. He loves that his best friend has found someone he loves so much and my god were they an exact match. He found it creepy at times how perfect they were for one another.
“So Delboy, question 2.. Bro I don’t even have to ask, its B, moving on,” Eric quickly flips through the question cards getting to the next question as Dele’s shriek of a laugh echoed around the mostly empty training hall.
“Stop it, am I that obvious?” Dele laughs pushing Eric to the side and blushing slightly.
Eric simply looks at him, then looks back at the camera, then looks at Dele again and cocks his eyebrow.
“May as well get her name tattooed on your forehead mate.”
-
Roaring from the crowd filled his ears, eliciting a warm feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what came over him. Dele looked up at the box after his celebration, half ignoring the cheers and pats on the back around him, and gave a cheesy grin and kissed his ring finger as always, laughing as Emilia kissed the air in her direction and stood with her hand on her stomach.
He’d just put one in the back of the net against Wolverhampton and immediately ran to the corner, picking up the ball from his feet on the way and sticking it under his shirt.
The expecting parents had been to their 20 week scan that morning and found out they were having a boy and Dele couldn’t stop thinking about it, even on the pitch. The excitement bubbled up and it just felt like the right time to ‘make the announcement’ after his goal. They were going to post maternity pictures this week anyway but the opportunity seemed too good to pass up right now. He was elated.
“Dele, we and everyone else at home has noticed the tape on your ring finger for a little while now along with your wife up in the stands, but do you have some news? Did we see that celebration right?” the interviewer prompted a beaming Dele.
“Well, I wasn’t meant to say anything until she could make her official post this week, so I’ll get into the tunnel and be battered by her,” he said through gritted teeth and a laugh, “but yes, we’re so excited to start this new chapter.”
The Spurs midfielder looked to his right across to the tunnel to see Emilia joking with Jose, rolling his eyes mentally at how her and her mum insist he’s her long lost dad.
“It comes as a surprise, you’re still quite young and love a party, it’ll be difficult to give up the nightlife and non stop partying for a life of nappy changes, no?” He hates this interviewer. He’d love to just rip into them but that’d just prove their stupid opinion right and give them more to feed off and fuel their narrative that he wasn’t ready to be a father.
“You’d be surprised,” was all he said. Ever since he was young he’s been labelled as a party boy and the sort of footballer who goes out on a weekly basis picking up girls for a fuck and chuck, but that’s never been him. At every party they found themselves either leaving early together or in a corner somewhere just the two of them, they hadn’t spent a night apart for 99% of their relationship and the times they did weren’t by choice and they still fell asleep on facetime, they were even married now for god's sake.. But the media still see him as ‘Dele the party boy’. There’s nothing he’d love more in the world than a baby with Emilia, and as annoying as it was, they both loved to prove everyone wrong and show it will last.
-
“On your screens now in the stands is Dele Alli’s missus and newborn.. His first time at Tottenham Hotspur stadium at only 4 weeks old, I wonder how long it’ll be until his first appearance at Stamford Bridge,” Martin Tyler let out a chuckle as the camera panned to Emilia sat in her usual box, Isaiah’s face nuzzled into her neck as she bounced rhythmically trying to soothe him.
-
Both sides of the pair became more open and active on social media as time progressed but still kept their own privacy. The fans loved to see the side to Dele they rarely got to see and it was so lovely for their friends and family to be able to see what they were up to and the stupid reasons why they weren’t replying to texts.
Little Instagram posts and stories here and there at random times. For example, early on in their relationship, Dele posted a video of a monopoly board in front of them with hotels and houses scattered messily where they weren’t meant to be. The video slowly panned up and stopped on Emilia sat opposite him bending to pick some more up from the floor, but at the sight of Dele filming, she threw one straight at his forehead, eliciting a hyena like laugh from Dele, captioning the video ‘landed on one of my hotels and couldn’t afford it, the woman doesn’t take Ls’ alongside Emilia’s @.
Another time, Emilia posted a video to her story, still in bed with the camera pointing outwards towards the door. Dele’s t-shirt was visible on the floor and the duvet was messed up on his side, evidence he wasn’t there, as the smoke alarm blared through the house. She simply captioned it ‘when he tries to make you toast in bed as a surprise at 8am.. someone come collect him @dele.’
There were various cute posts and stories as well as the jokey ones though. About half way through the pregnancy, Emilia posted a photo of her husband fast asleep strewn across the huge sofa, one hand hanging off the end and one hand holding a book against his chest that eagle-eyed fans could just make out to be a parenting book called ‘Happy Mum, Happy Baby’ alongside Rome laying across his legs and Diesel on the floor near his hanging hand. Emilia made a joke of it, captioning it ‘we haven’t even had the baby and my man’s already tired enough to pass out at 4pm.. he ain’t seen nothing yet’, but the pull in her chest showed she thought it was the cutest thing in the world.
A fan favourite was a simple photo on Dele’s story not too long after Isaiah was born and announced on Instagram. The photo was framed from up a height and captured all 3 pairs of their legs, Dele on the left, Emilia on the right and Isaiah’s little legs in between them, one leg on Dele’s thigh and one leg on Emilia’s thigh. The family were all wearing grey joggers and white trainers, Isaiah included, and they were the picture of cuteness in their matching outfits.
Throughout her pregnancy with Mabel, Emilia captured too many moments that pulled at her heart strings, she couldn’t not post some. One night she posted a photo which was mostly dark but you could make out the top of Dele’s shoulders along with his messy bed hair and big hand sprawled over her bump, holding his wife and unborn daughter close even in his sleep. Emilia couldn’t help but share her love with the world, captioning it with a simple white heart emoji and leaving it at that.
More videos popped up throughout the months of that pregnancy in particular: sneaky videos from behind Dele of him in shops picking up little baby clothes even though they already had surplus, videos from afar of them in the Enfield training ground cafeteria zooming in on him making people listen to the heart beat for the thousandth time, a video of the baby inside her stomach making bumps and movements from under the skin but stopping when Dele speaks.
After Emilia’s pregnancy and birth of Mabel, the world knew it didn’t quite go to plan and there were more complications than they’d imagined, so when Dele made his return to football after his extended break for his little girl, all eyes were on him. The commentators and pundits made comments wishing him and his family well, claiming how pleased they were to have him back and recalling his tweet from a few days prior: ‘Thank you for your patience over the past few months. Making sure our daughter was happy and healthy is our first priority but I am excited to make my return on Saturday. Appreciate the support.’. That evening, Emilia posted a video of Mabel in the baby swing chair from behind so you couldn’t see her face, with a smiling Dele zoomed in on the TV during the pre match warm up. She captioned it ‘watching her daddy <3 always proud of you’ in the centre and lower down hidden in a smaller font ‘both had a tantrum at leaving each other this morning ffs’.
Even as the children grew up and Dele stepped out of the limelight, every so often a post would pop up and make people melt. A little picture of a sunshine that Ora had painted in school that says ‘smile’ underneath in her messy handwriting that Dele posted to his feed. A photo posted of a fort that Isaiah had made from whatever he could find around the house, insisting that he had to have his dinner in there, resulting in Emilia going to check on him and snuggling up herself ready to watch Monsters Inc with him; even though she had to squish up and become a contortionist to fit, it was the cutest thing Dele had seen. Or a story of them on a dog walk, first showing Emilia, Isaiah and Ora along with all 7 dogs in the field in front of Dele before panning down to his muddy wellies alongside Mabel’s similarly dirty wellies next to him.
Odd appreciation posts for each other every now and then, showing that even after being married a decade and coming so far from the start, they were still more in love than most people could imagine, candid photos of Dele’s bare back in the kitchen adorned with dribbling emojis or a sneaky video of Emilia getting ready for an event, turning around at the call of her name and rolling her eyes at the sight of his phone pointed at her and his wolf whistle with the caption ‘my girl’ and the sweating emoji alongside.
They had a love hate relationship with the media throughout their lives but they couldn’t deny they loved being able to broadcast their love to the world, bursting at the seams with pride and joy for what they’d created.
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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years
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The Dragonfly Curse
Summary: Roman often gets hit with small curses by the Dragon Witch- little things being forced to speak only in rhyme or becoming incredibly clumsy for a day. He hides this from the others, as to him they’re punishment enough for his failures. They’re small measly problems- which makes this latest curse ironic in that he’s reduced to a four-inch tall dragonfly-winged fairy.
Words: 4,780
This is a commission piece for @i-will-physically-fight-you! Thank you again for commissioning me, this was so much fun to write. :) My commissions are open! More information available on my blog.
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Roman treaded through the forest, footsteps light as he fought to keep his presence unknown. Uneasily he twisted his wrist, the handle of his blade recognizing the familiar movements as he gave the sword a small twirl to calm his nerves. It grounded him, reminding him that even in this vast expanse Roman still had strength. A strength he had to wield if he intended to protect those he loved.
Imagination could be a fickle thing. Once upon a time, Thomas was young. His dreams were filled with puppy dogs and rainbows (the symbolism ever present in his gay subconscious), and Roman was happy to traverse the magical paradise that had appeared through a portal in his room. Back then it was a magical place, so full of laughter and cheer. Roman had always wished he could bring some of that wonderous joy into his own room so that he could let his fellow sides in on the fun.
Now, Roman’s greatest fear was exposing his family to this hell.
As Thomas had grown older, the Imagination had become overgrown with negative creations, a side effect of the dark sides no doubt. For far too long Roman had blamed Virgil for the shadow figures that now crept behind every tree, or the inky dark marshes that threatened to swallow unsuspecting villagers whole. Now Roman knew better; the horrible demons lurking around the Imagination had appeared on their own, independent of a single creator, instead representing something far darker than the embodiment of anxiety himself.
Roman chuckled darkly to himself. Maybe Virgil would be amusedly offended at the idea of something having a more terrifying aesthetic than his hundred layers of black eyeshadow. The image was nice to chuckle at, but Roman knew it would never be a reality. He couldn’t let Virgil, or anyone else he cared about for that matter, ever learn about these invaders. They were Roman’s problem alone, his burden to bear. Why else would the portal into Imagination only exist in his own room? Clearly this was his purpose as a knight- to protect those he loved, even from fear of danger itself. Ignorance was bliss, surely.
Of course, Roman was unable to hide everything from the sides, much as he wanted to remain covert. There were times when Roman would… lose. The Dragon Witch was a formidable opponent, much as Roman loathed to admit it, and she took pleasure in laying curses upon Roman for her amusement. These curses were hardly permanent but would carry into the mindscape. Perhaps this was the Dragon Witch’s way of trying to affect the world beyond this accursed land, knowing she herself could never get past the portal. Sending back a defeated and hexed Roman was the closest she could get to throwing something of her own into the mindscape.
Thankfully, these curses had never been particularly threatening to Roman’s physical form, just his pride. That only made them hurt worse in Roman’s mind. Was it not enough to be defeated in his own realm? Must she bruise his fragile ego? But in this way, she knew his weaknesses. Stabs wounds healed. The echoing laughter in his mind did not.
Roman thought back briefly, recounting some of her more memorable curses. One of the first had been upon his tongue, turning it a dull silver in mockery of the phrase ‘silver tongue’ and forcing the princely figure to only speak in rhymes. The others thought he was just being dramatic as ever, putting up with his antics as Roman attempted to compliment Patton’s cooking skills and ended up launching into an eloquent soliloquy about the talent of the heart to bring such “delectable, respectable, selectable treats to the table, how my dearest Patton have you proven yourself so able-“ and so the rhyming continued. Roman had even enjoyed that one, leaning into it to test his own feats of poetry. He challenged Logan to a rematch of their rap battle, this time proving himself a worthy opponent.
The Dragon Witch had been less than pleased when he returned the next week, whistling a nameless tune and declaring how “your devious plan backfired; I’m feeling rather inspired!” Perhaps it was his jesting that had earned him the next hex, cursing him to become unstable on his feet. Roman had spent the day tripping over himself, spilling water any time a cup was placed in his hands and falling flat on his face on more than one occasion. Roman could only play those instances off with the line “I’ve falling for you, my fairest Virgil!” so many times before it was clear that this behavior wasn’t going to end. Virgil told him to snap out of it, and Roman was forced to spend the rest of the evening in his room willing his boots to stop making a fool of him.
So the curses continued, slowly accumulating through the years to remind Roman of his failures. Each lasted only a day, gone by the time he woke the next day. Never the same curse- after all, being part of the Imagination, even the Dragon Witch had standards. Unoriginality wouldn’t stand. Normally Roman would appreciate this creativity, but used against him it was less than pleasant having to bravely face his punishments. Which is why Roman made it a point not to lose often.
Roman paused, his feet stopping atop the large carpet of leaves painted in beautiful golden hues. It would be a beautiful sight, if the stillness in the air did not make the hairs on the back of his neck stand so unpleasantly.
“I was almost thinking you would not show.” Roman spoke up, raising his voice. He kept his gaze straight ahead, giving no other indication he knew there was a trespasser amongst the woods. “Or rather, if you’re attempting to be sneaky, you need to work on your dramatics, you son of a birch.”
There was a giggling through the air, as though the trees found this insult particularly amusing. Roman thought they might, and he gave a small smirk, radiating the essence of a casual hero who was sure of his blade. Perhaps if he imagined himself as such, it would prove true.
“Son of a birch?” A tree, darker than the rest, appeared insulted off to the left a few more paces down the path. The foliage shifted, the tree shrinking and curling in on itself as a woman emerged from the wreckage. She looked annoyed, the atmosphere immediately darkening as she stepped forwards. “I was an aspen, you royal twig!”
“Well you’re certainly as-pain in my butt.” Roman retorted. The trees merely groaned at that one, a few of the younger saplings muttering amongst themselves as though trying to figure out what exactly he meant. Roman rolled his eyes. “Alright peanut gallery, I get it, not my best work.”
“Peanut gallery, now there’s an idea.” The Dragon Witch put a finger to her chin, as if considering an idea. “Perhaps when I beat you today I’ll turn you into a peanut plant. Or better yet, I’ll trap you in a peanut gallery comic, so you will be forced to watch everyone laugh at your antics.”
“I’ve already been a comic book character.” Roman groaned, pretending to be bored as he stretched out a crick in his neck. “And you did a strawberry bush only a month ago. Have you really run out of curses so soon? You seem a bit lost for inspiration. How about I do you a favor. After I kick your butt, you can spend the week thinking up better ideas.”
“You make me laugh, Prince Roman.” The Dragon Witch said, but her mouth was still a flat line. “But perhaps you should save the theatrics for your stage.”
“Gladly.” With no more fanfare, Roman charged, sword at the ready. He took a swipe at the Dragon Witch. Unsurprisingly, she disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke. Knowing this trick, Roman wasted no time in bringing his elbow reeling backwards, satisfied by the ‘oof!’ of pain that came as he painfully elbowed her in the stomach. Roman had no qualms against playing dirty against a girl, especially because gender is a social construct and she started it.
“Why, you little-!” Before she could wrap her claws around Roman the prince rolled to the side, coming up to face her head on again. The Dragon Witch growled, a ball of green flame appearing in her hand.
“You wouldn’t.” Roman squinted, trying to gauge how far his opponent would go.
“Oh, I would.” The Dragon Witch sneered, tossing the flame to the ground. Instantly the golden leaves began to catch fire, the flames spreading as quickly the entire scene became ablaze.
Roman’s eyes widened only momentarily before he began to frantically dash back down the path, the flames licking at his heels. He knew that the trees themselves would likely be protected, mere puppets designed by the Witch who wanted an audience (she always was one for theatrics), but everything else in this forest was fair game.
“You’re insane!” Roman yelped, shaking his leg briefly as his pants briefly caught fire. The Witch cackled at this, giving chase through the path as the green flickers did nothing to harm her. If anything, they curled around her ankles, hugging their creator gently.
“Liar liar, pants on fire!” The Dragon Witch seemed to only find humor in this scenario, grinning manically.
“What are you, twelve?” Roman huffed, his breathing becoming heaving as he fought to keep running. Why didn’t Thomas go to the gym more often? Probably due to Patton’s love of cookies. Even if Patton was a fluffball, at this particular moment Roman was wishing he could change a lot of the heart’s habits if only to gain a little more endurance for these aggravating chase scenes. When he got back to the Mindspace, Roman was certainly going to fill Thomas’ dreams with more eye candy muscled men in the hopes of inspiring him to exercise even once.
Too distracted by thoughts of shirtless men, Roman was oblivious to the branches reaching out for him until it was too late. The wooden limbs wrapped around him, forcing his sword to clatter to the ground as one of the tree spirits tugged him into a tight grip.
“No fair!” Roman pouted, watching the Dragon Witch approach with a devious smirk, her flames coming with her.
“What’s wrong, Prince Roman?” She feigned ignorance, lifting her hand to direct the flames to begin climbing the tree, getting closer and closer to his legs which were desperately trying to kick out of their way. “Come now, surely you haven’t been bested by a few candle flames and a tree? Get up, Prince Roman. Fight. Where’s that courageous hero who dared to march into myrealm just hours ago, dressed in regal colors and claiming ownership of a land he can never hope to control?”
“I YIELD!” Roman suddenly declared through gritted teeth, his knees tucked up to his chest as the fire licked at his boots. To declare himself unsuccessful hurt more than their burn, and as the flames disappeared Roman felt the own fire of determination dying in his heart.
It seemed recently it had burning out quicker with each battle, these losses slowly taking a toll on even his resolve.
“Aww, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The Dragon Witch teased. Roman gave her a defiant glare.
“I already yielded, there’s no need to drag it out.” Roman huffed, slumping back in the tree’s embrace. “Just get it over with, do your thing. Give me your curse and I’ll be on my way. What will it be, the comic or the plant? Well? What are you waiting for?”
The Dragon Witch paused, her expression for once perfectly blank. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
“Why should I be?” Roman shrugged, feeling a bit proud that he could make her scowl even in her victory. A conversation was still a battle when it came to the Dragon Witch, and at least Roman could win this. “Your little curses are nuisances at best. Your strongest has only ever left me cowering under a blanket for a day. Just a day, nothing more. Nothing sticks. You can’t hurt me, not in any real way at least, because everything you do is temporary. Your magic is just little parlor tricks.”
“Little parlor tricks?!” She screeched and spat. “How dare you! You insufferable pest, you incompetent sprite, you infinitesimal thorn in my side!” The Dragon Witch’s eyes blazed with a fury unmated by any Roman had ever seen, and for the first time in forever Roman really did feel afraid. She struck her hand across his face, leaving a scorching mark with a familiar tingling feeling of magic.
“There.” The Dragon Witch hissed, letting the tree drop Roman into an unassuming pile on the ground. “How’s that for a parlor trick?” Without another word she spun on her heel and left. The fact that she didn’t stick around to watch her spell take effect was a sure sign that Roman had pissed her off more than usual, which likely didn’t bode well for whatever unfortunate hex had just been quite literally slapped upon him.
Roman groaned, his body feeling like it was collapsing in on itself as Roman curled up into a tight ball. A searing pain had begun just along his spine, and Roman heard the fabric of his shirt begin to tear. Rude; he was particularly fond of this ensemble. But even Princey couldn’t lament the ruination of his garments for long, instead letting out a gasp as another round of fiery discomfort shot through his back. Was this the curse? To be in misery for a day? It certainly made Roman regret being so mouthy.
Thankfully, the pain slowly began to ebb away, leaving only a dull ache in its wake. Roman felt as though something was laying across his back, and new nerves connected to these new appendages. Cautiously Roman opened his eyes, looking back for confirmation.
Wings- he had wings. Dragonfly wings, to be exact. It seemed the Dragon Witch was still just as fond of draconic irony as always.
“Well that’s not so bad.” Roman decided. Sure, they were painful to grow, and they would certainly be impossible to hide, but Roman had stayed in his room during a curse before. He gave them a cautious flutter, wincing as one wing smacked him in the face. Perhaps this would take a bit more practice.
Roman stood up, gaining his footing on the slippery leaf below him and prepping for a test flight. Wait… yes, that was leaf, singular. Roman stared down at his feet incredulously, not believing his eyes. That had to be a very large leaf, unless…
The princely figure let out a groan, looking up to see his suspicions were confirmed. The dark trees now loomed over him, appearing to be hundreds of feet tall. It wasn’t just wings, then. The witch had cursed Roman to become a fairy of all things, reduced to nothing but a poor copy of tinkerbell.
At this size, Roman was even more wary of Imagination land, picturing all the horrible creatures that could make quick work of him. He had to get back, now.
“Alright, faith and trust and all that jazz.” Roman psyched himself up, scrunching his face and giving his body a shake to let out his nerves. He focused on getting his wings to flap properly this time, nearly crying out in relief when his feet left the ground.
“Don’t look down.” Roman instructed himself, firmly keeping his gaze forward as he shot through the air, beginning to get the hang of flying as he dodged the various brambles. More than once Roman nearly went headfirst into a spiderweb, skidding to a stop at the last moment. Thankfully he reached the exit on the other side of the forest without becoming prey to any of the shadowy demons. He was relieved that the door still recognized his presence in this form, swinging open wide. Roman wouldn’t have been able to open it himself.
“…woah.” Roman floated inside, momentarily shocked by how unfamiliar his own bedroom looked at this size. He settled down onto his desk, thrown off by the way he had to look up to see the bristled tips of his paintbrushes. How odd.
A knock came at the door, so loud and intimidating that Roman nearly jumped out of his skin. “Kiddo?” Patton’s voice was clearly gentle, but still it rumbled with an unnatural quality. “Do you want to join us for lunch?”
“Ah, no thanks, Pat!” Roman called back, hoping his nerves weren’t heard in his voice.
There was silence, and then another knock. “Kiddo? You in there?”
Oh, of course- an impulse to hit his own forehead overcame Roman. If Patton’s voice was so loud, it only followed that Roman’s voice must be quiet in comparison. He’d have to commit if he wanted to be heard.
“NO THANKS!” Roman called again, this time cupping his hands to his mouth to be heard.
“Oh, okay!” Patton sounded relieved, if not a bit disappointed. Roman deflated slightly, knowing this was another consequence of the curse. He hated letting Patton down. “Well, uh, I’ll check in on you again later!”
He would, of course, the little puffball.
***
Roman tried not to let the knot of guilt twist in him too tight when Patton came back to ask at dinner, then again at breakfast, and a third time at lunch the next day.
This was the longest day of his life. Roman groaned, collapsing back onto his pillow. It only took a few moments for him to realize this was a terrible plan, nearly getting stuck as he sunk into the overly plush surface. Why wasn’t he back to normal yet? It had been 24 hours, hadn’t it?
Patton came back again at dinner. He was more insistent. Roman snapped at him, and it hurt.
What was he meant to do? Roman couldn’t sleep that second night, his wings beginning to twitch anxiously. A curse had never lasted this long before. Should he tell the others?
The new fairy quickly shook his head. No, he couldn’t do that. Going to them meant admitting defeat. He would have to come clean about his rivalry with the Dragon Witch, letting them know of all his countless failures. What would they think of him? What sort of creativity was he if he couldn’t do his one job of keeping Imagination in check? Roman had to protect his family, not the other way around. Besides, he could only imagine the jests he would receive in this form:
“It seems you are incapable of even performing your own tasks adequately-“
“You tried your best, Kiddo, but leave it up to the real sides next time-”
“What’s the matter, Princey? A little thing like you couldn’t possibly help-“
A knock on the door jolted Roman out of his thoughts, the fae rubbing at the wetness on his cheeks. When had he started crying?
“Roman?” That was Logan’s voice, so cool and calculating and pleasant in tone. “We have been sent to retrieve you for breakfast. Are you alright?”
Roman couldn’t even work up the energy to respond. He just let his head loll to the side. Sooner or later the others would learn to leave him alone. Maybe they’d even forget about him… if he was going to be stuck like this, it might be for the best. Roman was useless.
“I can feel the sulking from here.” A third voice muttered, Roman’s sensitive ears picking up Virgil’s annoyed tone. “I say we just break in.”
Roman quickly sat up. What? Them, here? No, they couldn’t see him like this! He flew into the air, eyes scanning for any place he could hide.
“I thought you were against barging into bedrooms?” Logan spoke.
“Nah, just my room. Call me a hypocrite.”
Roman panicked, hearing the doorknob begin to turn. Without hesitation he dashed out of sight, settling onto the top of his wardrobe. Just in time, too, as moments later his fellow sides came barging into the room.
“PRINCEY, GET UP!” Virgil’s volume made the tiny side cringe, Roman pressing his hands firmly to his ears. “…princey?”
“It appears he’s not here.” Logan sated, the two gazing at the bed with conflicting amounts of bewilderment.
“Yeah, thanks, Sherlock.” Virgil’s facial features had turned decidedly blank, trying to process what was right in front of him.
“You do not sound thankful.” Logan murmured.
Virgil ignored his quip, throwing the blanket off the bed. Of course, the entire thing still looked untouched. The anxious side began to run his hands through his hair, seeming conflicted before he rushed back to the door. “PATTON, GET UP HERE!”
There was a frantic pounding of footsteps, Patton clearly running up the stairs before he too appeared in the doorway. “What is it? Is Roman sick?”
“Sick in the head- he’s gone.” Despite his angry words, Virgil looked frantic, and Roman felt far more than a twinge of guilt.
“This is peculiar.” Logan frowned, a hand put to his chin. “The mindscape is only so large. It contains each of our respective spaces and one communal area. Thomas is asleep, so he’s not there, and none of us have seen Roman in over 48 hours. Where could he possibly have gone?”
“Uh…I have an idea.”
The other two sides looked where Patton was pointing, the door to Imagination still ajar.
No! Roman’s eyes widened with fear. The others couldn’t go in there, they’d be killed for sure! Roman had always lied about Imagination, treating it like a magical secret only for him so that they would never know the true misery he faced every day.
“Do you think his realm would grant us access?” Logan took a step closer, making Roman tense up. “I was under the impression that subconscious domains were only accessible by the primary side.”
“Well, the door’s open.” Patton shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”
“Hold on a minute, Pat.” Virgil reached an arm out, grabbing Patton’s forearm. “I don’t like the look of this. Roman’s an idiot-“ Hey! “-but maybe there’s a reason we shouldn’t go in there. We don’t know what it’s like. Maybe we’ll get corrupted just like you guys do in my room.”
For once, Roman was relieved Dark and Brooding was always so cautious. Maybe his friends would be safe after all.
“Virgil, it’s Imagination.” Patton removed Virgil’s hand with a smile, crushing all Roman’s hopes and dreams. “It’s not going to hurt us! I bet it’s got cotton candy clouds and singing flowers and puppies everywhere. “
“I take it back, that’s much worse.” Virgil cringed, but he allowed Patton to take his hand and guide him forward.
“Assumptions will get us nowhere; there is only one way to know for certain.” Logan reached for the handle-
“WAIT!” Roman cried out, his voice shrill and high-pitched as three heads whirling around to meet his terrified expression. Roman gulped, still frightened of their reactions but knowing he had made the right decision. It was better they looked down on him forever if it meant they stayed safe.
Still, having three giants focused on him was nothing to sneeze at- even with all his pomp and circumstance, Roman found himself continuing to huddle against the top of the wardrobe, knowing the jig was up.
“…Roman?” Patton called out, his voice softer than it had ever been. “Is that you?”
Roman winced. “Yeah, it’s… it’s me.”
He was thankful for his high vantage point, but he knew that if the others wanted to get him down it would be an easy enough task. He might be able to fly, but there were three of them for goodness sakes. At this size, a butterfly net could overpower him.
Roman groaned at the imagery, trying to get these thoughts out of his head. Why was he so frightened of the people he loved? Sure they were bigger now- er, he was smaller now- but they still had to care a little bit for him… right? Logan wouldn’t really pin him to a board and Patton wouldn’t really squeeze the life out of him and wow these images really need to stop right now get a GRIP, Princey!
“Are you harmed?” Logan asked, his question surprising the creative side. Logan was often ignorant to other’s state of being.
“Just my pride.” Roman admitted.
Virgil quirked an eyebrow, but it lacked its usual sass. His expression was more shaken than it should be, and the emo looked paler than usual. “Care to tell us what’s going on?”
Not really. Roman wanted to say, but he knew it was too late to back out now.
“Will you come down from there, Kiddo?” Patton took a step forward, cupping his palms and looking ready to catch Roman. He gazed at those hands for a minute, contemplating the risk before he fluttered down to stand in Patton’s palms. This action earned a series of gasps as his wings had previously gone unnoticed.
“It was the Dragon Witch.” Roman admitted, rubbing at his arm self-consciously. “She cursed me to take this form.”
“So, you’ve just been hiding up here all alone?” Patton looked just about ready to cry. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t want you all to think any lesser of me.” Roman ran a hand through his hair. “I know you all think of me as foolish already, and I thought- if you knew how much I failed, that would just be used against me as well. I’m not the protector I pretend to be. I’ve tried to hide this from you because look at me now! A few inches tall and wings on my back like some laughable child cartoon character. I couldn’t stand the mockery on top of everything else.”
“Roman, that is preposterous.” Logan said firmly, earning an elbow to the side from Virgil that didn’t stop the nerd from continuing. “Regardless of your current stature, you are a core element of Thomas’ personality. We require your input. We function best as a cohesive team. Sharing information about your own struggles will only better us as a unit because we will be better equipped to assist you.”
“The nerd’s right.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. “Jeez, Princey, I mean… I know we call each other names, but I don’t mean anything by it. I just thought that was our thing. I’m not gonna mock you when you’re clearly hurting, that’d just be cruel.”
“Failure is normal, kiddo.” Patton reached his thumb up, rubbing it comfortingly along Roman’s side. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant. “Just because you failed once doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”
Roman winced. “Ah, actually, it’s… it’s more than once.” The words began to spill out of him, gaining momentum. “I lose to her so often, she always has the upper hand and it’s never the same curse and I keep hiding them from you but they only last a day and this one hasn’t stopped and I don’t know what to do and I’m going to be tiny and useless forever-“
“OY!” Virgil’s shout made Roman flinch again, and the anxious side had the decency to look sheepish. “…sorry. But you need to cut it out. Panicking is my thing.”
“Roman, it doesn’t matter if you’ve failed a hundred, trillion, billion times.” Patton corrected his wording.
“That’s not statistically possible.” Logan looked confused.
“You will never be a failure in our eyes.” Patton insisted. “You are brave, and kind, and lovable, and you bring so much to the table every single day. We couldn’t do it without you, Kiddo. And even at this size you’re the same amazing Prince we know and love. You’re just… a pocket prince now!”
“Roman, I admit that curses are not my area of expertise.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “But, I believe that with our efforts combined, there is certain to be a way to reverse these effects, especially given the knowledge the previous curses all took time to wear off.”
“Let us help you.” Virgil said, his tone bordering on pleading.
Roman looked around at his family. His fantastic, brilliant, amazing family. How could he have not trusted them with this? Of course they wouldn’t see him as lesser, just because of a small curse. His failures were not what defined him.
“Okay.” Roman agreed, feeling nearly overwhelmed with the love he had for them all.
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horrorslashergirl · 3 years
Text
Hunter meeting Hunter
A Xaviera Lah-Mo and Andrei Kulokova Story Chapter 1
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Authors Note: Do I hear OC x OC bells? Maaaaaaybe~ This is a story starting my OC Xaviera with @the-slasher-files​‘s OC Andrei and how they meet and all the adventure and of course....murder, because they are killers. Many thanks to @the-slasher-files​ because this story couldn’t have been made without her help.
Xaviera Lah-Mo belongs to me
Andrei Kulokova belongs to @the-slasher-files​
Warning: The following story below contains murder and death, because our killers love it.
Words: 2.0k
Winter in Himalaya was definitely cruel and oh so very cold, below freezing, everything was covered in pure white, the snow that if you weren't equipped adequately, would freeze your extremities like feet and hands.
That wasn't a problem for Xaviera since it wasn't her first time in Himalaya. For her, it felt like visiting her grandparents, who sadly died a long time ago. Her icy blue eyes took in the scenery; the quietness, the tranquility, she felt like she was home, but right now she didn't have time for basking in what Mother Nature had to offer, because the snow-white haired woman had a mission and just like an Apex predator, she was set to fill it to the end perfectly.
She was currently laid on her front on a low ridge, camouflaged in the snow, like Snow Leopard, her eyes trained on a small group of three poachers. This wasn't her principal mission for why she came to Himalaya, but when life gives you a chance at hunting to balance the ecosystem, you take it and that's what she does.
They are marching through the snow in the clearing of the forest, her eye looking at them from the telescope of her sniper rifle, her finger hovering on the trigger, waiting like an animal in hunting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
She was just going to do that, but she felt like something was off, like someone else was there; a feeling she got after years of observing animals. Her blue eyes left the poachers only to see something moving behind the trees.
A man.
Her lips were pulled into a thin line; that she didn't expect. Was he with them? What was he planning?
Before she could ask herself any more questions, the sound of a gun shooting meets her ears. The man just shot one of the poachers, not deadly, but enough to make said wounded man yell in pain.
Fuck, that didn't happen before and her first instinct told her to take care of the poachers; that was her job and she just did that. It only took one minute to fatally wound them, seeing their bodies drop on the snow, white turning scarlet.
Her gaze averted from the killed poachers to the man, only for him to be gone. Xaviera gulped down, still hiding in place, blue eyes scanning the area for any movement, not daring to move an inch from her hiding spot.
Where had he gone? She tried to peak her ears up for sounds that might give away his location, but nothing.
Another instinct followed, screaming at her to run the hell out of there and she quickly did that, strapping her sniper rifle on her back and getting off from the cold blanket of snow, marching off the ridge, only when she reached the bottom, she saw a silouethe from the corner of her eyes.
It was him, he was standing there on the entry of the forest that surrounded them.
It was like two animals coming face to face, neither of them moving an inch, waiting for the other to make the first move, which the man did. He just stared at her, like a predator that saw potential prey, and then he took off into a sprint in her direction.
This was bad. Xaviera had no combat skills what so ever and she knew she was no match for the tall and imposing stranger, who looked around 6'5 or so. She was only 5'4 for Christ Sake.
She did the first thing that came to mind; running, taking off into the opposite direction, straight up into the dense snowy forest. She wasn't one for brute strength, but she made it up with being an agile and fast runner, but just like the cheetah that was for small distances because she quickly lost speed.
She remembered the dart bows with venom in the pocket of her winter jacket. She may not pack deadly muscles, but she sure packs a sneaky and venomous attitude under the thick winter clothing.
She brakes to a halt and looks straight into the eyes of the man, who was just a few feet away from her, coming to a stop too, looking skeptical at her. Her hand was ready to throw the darts at him, aiming for the neck.
"One more step and you're dead. I don't suppose you would want a dose of Russell's Viper venom into your bloodstream. Even if you survive the venom, the effects are life-long term." she threatened him, getting into a defensive pose.
He looked like one of these big gray wolves that are really to pounce into the kill and that's what he did, dodging her venomous darts with precision, her blue eyes meet his own, and pain shot through her back as her rifle dug into her back.
He pinned her on one of the trees, both her hands in one of his so much bigger ones. She couldn't even move her hands an inch, that's how much power this man exhumed, and by the feeling of his grip, she knew he could break her wrists in a matter of seconds.
He had light brown hair in a faux hawk hairstyle and his eyes resembled hers a little in color, that icy blue. He also had scars, one on his right cheek, the other going from his forehead down to his left cheek, and another on the bottom of his jaw. What really caught her attention were his sharp K9s.....resembling so much of a wolf.
She looked up at him with eyes that would resemble a fierce cat, her lips pulled into a snarl, just like a cornered animal, hissing at him to let her go. His free hand moved slowly to her cheek, stroking the soft, cold skin with his rough one.
"Easy little mouse, easy...." he cooed, making alarm bells ring in her head, trembling like an animal that was ready to strike and she was ready to smash his precious jewels with her knee, only for a loud sound to pull on both their attention.
Xaviera's eyes widened as she saw the avalanche coming and they were done for, she blacked out as the snow-covered them. When she did woke up, she panicked and trashed, digging up to get out of the snow and breath, adrenaline coursing through her tiny body.
When her head peaked up from the snow, she took a deep breath, surprised even herself that she managed to survive this. Her eyes looked around and noticed one hand peeking up from the snow.
She stumbled on shaky legs there, digging the man from under the snow. One shaky hand checked his pulse; still alive, but unconscious and as she looked over his body she noticed that he had a deep gash on his biceps and his ankle was twisted.
'Just let him die and get back to the cottage.' That's what she first thought, but she also felt a sense of pity wash over her.
'Why help him? He was probably going to slice and dice you on the spot there.' She debated what to do.
He resembled so much more than a human, almost like he was at a moment a wounded wolf that she spotted in the snow. She groaned, her soft spot getting to her.
Finally deciding, she tried to put one of his arms over her shoulder to balance his weight, which wasn't an easy deal, because he was tall and very heavy and she was like a shrimp compared to him.
Her eyes took in the sky, signaling her that night was close and it was going to snow.
To say the least that the marching to her cottage was a challenge would have been an easy saying, it drowned all her energy, but her hope sparked up when she saw her salvation.
She got him inside and with her last effort, she dragged him upstairs to the bedroom. All she wanted was to sleep and recharge herself, but that was a luxury she couldn't afford at the moment. She needed to start the fire to heat up the cottage, treat his wounds, and hers; the ice really felt like blades.
Going downstairs, she put the logs inside the fireplace, lightening it up, rubbing her hands together, absorbing the heat the flames provided. Going back upstairs with a medical kit, she looked over his wounds; more urgent than hers, so she started to work, making sure to disinfect everything, especially the deep gash on his biceps, then stitching him up, her eyes looking over his naked torso, big scars littering it; from battles, assaults?
Just who was this man?
Finishing with him, she started to treat herself, hissing as she picked up tiny rocks and ice from her scratches on her forearms; she was absurdly lucky that she got off so easy from this disaster.
While she had patched him up, she got all his weapons off him; no way was she going to leave all the arsenal on him to kill her when he wakes up. She set all his weapons downstairs neatly, putting his big winter jacket and boots to dry off.
She was so hungry, but the need for sleep called louder, so she sat down on the fluffy blanket in front of the fireplace, letting her eyes close and bask in the flames, simple luxury in these mountains most couldn't afford.
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When she woke up the first thing that she did was go outside and provided more wood for the fire, then she started to make breakfast, considering that it was daytime. She must have slept all night.
She prepared stew in the cauldron above the fireplace, the only source to cook, but it was better than eating cold stew directly from the can. It's a good thing she prepared herself for times like this, stashing up food for two months for this trip. She also made hot tea for her and the man upstairs.
It would take one hour for the delicious food to be finished, so she decided to check on her guest. Entering the bedroom, he was awake, her eyes taking in his sharp ones, still predatory, but not like back there in the forest. She walked to set the cup of warm tea on the nightstand.
On both fell a dead silence, until he decided to break it.
"Why did you save me?" he asked, voice deep and raspy, Russian accent very prominent.
Well, that was a first. No 'who are you?' or something cliche like that.
"Would you have preferred I let you die under the ice-cold snow and bleed to death?" she asked, a tiny drop of sarcasm lacing her voice, her voice calm, not fazed by his hard-cold gaze. She had seen far worse; she patched up, bears, wolves, lions, and tigers.
He was a little baffled, in a strangely good way.
"That still doesn't answer my question." he grumbled and she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Are you a poacher?" she asked with her arms crossed over her chest.
He sat up in bed, his lips pulled into a dark smile, a glimpse of his K9's.
"A poacher of sorts...you can say dat." he replied, making her suspicious.
"If you touch any animal I'm gonna skin your scalp off." she told him, with no hesitation in her voice.
He raised an eyebrow at her words, grabbing the cup of tea from the nightstand she got for him.
"My hunting is different, little one....Humans are the real monsters. I think that we can agree." he explains, making her curious; well that assured her, plus it was new to hear such words from someone.
"Food is almost ready. I will bring the tray upstairs, since your ankle is twisted I don't want you stumbling down the stairs and twist your neck too." she said, leaving him be and going downstairs.
The food was almost ready, just five more minutes or so. Her eyes averted on the table full of maps, compasses, and files.
She still needed to finish her mission, but as she tried to find a frequency on the radio station for the weather, she knew this will have to wait; it was going to be a blizzard for the following days.
That could wait, at the moment her problem was the mysterious man upstairs.
She sighed.
'What had she just got herself into?'
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the-bae-who-lived · 4 years
Note
2, 3, 4, 27, & 28 for the ship headcanon meme!!
ship headcanon meme
always accepting<3
thank you for sending these!!!
2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better? 
i think it’s safe to say kai is a bit more insecure. he’s craved validation for a lot of his life. he didn’t have a mother and his father figure was pretty shifty and just wanted to teach him to fight and protect himself. so he definitely needs to be validated as a person instead of a warrior. to add to that, he looked for validation with the blooded dawn and with a woman who didn’t love him, who manipulated him and only gave him recognition when he did things that appeased her.  vael is something different for kaidan because she, despite having a father, had people around her who loved her. she had a pretty well balanced life. and for that, she’s able to give what she has to others. so as far as what makes kaidan feel better?? when he was looking for validation, he would do damn near anything he could for that temporary high. but with vael, she validates him even when he doesn’t ask for (which he literally will not do bc stubborn). so she’s allowing him to have a chance to be himself and accept himself for who he is.
3. Who is the most romantic?
both of them for sure but probably more kai than vael because (and we’ll learn more about this when we start to get into the juicy parts of the fic) she’s never really had a romantic connection before whereas kaidan has. kaidan is so romantic??? like he wants to portray himself as a stoic warrior but really, he’s the guy who will pick you flowers and hold your hand and cuddle with you, take you on dates and cook for you. he’s a squish. he also does enjoy reading and you’d find me hard-pressed not to believe that this man doesn’t read romance novels. 
4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?
oops kaidan. we can see that already because he’s touched vael a few times in the fic. but also later on vael as well because once she gets a taste of what it’s like to kiss and touch and be intimate with a man, with kaidan, she’s gonna want it like all the time??? but kaidan because he’s already had sex, knows what it’s like and wants that physical intimacy. he’s not the type to go around sleeping with just anyone. he does need that connection whether it’s emotional or just absurd amounts of lust. but it’ll get to a point with vael where he has both and he be like u make my dick hard and my heart soft :/ #KAIDANFUCKS  but in general speaking, kaidan does like to look. if she’s walking in front of him, you better believe his eyes are on dat ass. and he’ll make sneaky grabs lol. once he’s comfortable and he’s sure she’s comfortable as well he’ll steal kisses, touch her face her hair the small of her back. 
as for vael, once she’s sexually liberated LMAO, she might get a bit brazen with the touching. kaidan’s butt is also not safe from her little paws but honestly, he doesn’t mind. 
on a sweeter note for her though, because i don’t want y’all thinking she’s just a lil gremlin, she’ll eventually also spoon him for sure. and when they’re walking, she’ll take his arm and rest her head on his bicep bc she’s too vertically challenged to reach his shoulder.
27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them? 
first of all thanks for assuming kai has friends. vael has talvas for sure. but i don’t know that they would do any of their gooey coupley stuff in front of friends??? i mean maybe but it’s dependent on the situation. but to answer this question, i think that talvas would get annoyed with them because kaidan is taking up a lot of vael’s time that talvas used to get. so he would be like ok vae let’s put him out on his leash so we can have girl talk.
28. Why do they get jealous? 
let’s see, let’s see...
vael might get jealous when they stop at taverns and the women flock around kai because he’s a god among men if u feel me? no but he’s like beautiful. so while he’s drinking his ale and they’re all batting their eyes around him and he’s oblivious, vael is in the corner watching like
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..... and she’s not aware yet of just how fucking oblivious kai is and can’t tell that he doesn’t even see these women. 
it’s much easier for kaidan to get jealous. vael, in my humble mf opinion, is stunning as well and if m.en are g.ross p.igs now, they were are certainly no less gross in this setting. so kaidan has a possessiveness issue and he’s the first to stand up for vael or for anyone who’s being degraded or harassed. but because vael is kinda friendly and naive at times, she gives people the benefit of the doubt and will talk to them and kaidan doesn’t mind the talking, but he minds when the other person is a. taking too much of her time b. not acknowledging him and c. making it totally obvious that they’re flirting with her. 
side note, vael has specific things she does with her face or her body language and they just happen. she doesn’t mean for it, but they give off flirtatious signals when in reality, that’s just what her body does. 
and i mean like lip biting when she’s listening or concentrating or even touching the tip of her thumb to her lower lip and maybe toying with it a bit, she has big dreamy eyes so i mean blinking could get her into some trouble??? she’s smiley, too. like always smiling. so people think she’s flirting and when kaidan starts to watch her more and notice these things about her, he’s gonna be like NOW HOLD ON A DAMN MINUTE!
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renlimotroll · 3 years
Text
Cruel Summer
Summary: "Stay, Sensei, please." Siruko begs, even though it was useless. Sensei didn't belong to him. Sensei belonged to the world, to his fans, to the stage, to the microphone. This borrowed summer was the best and worst of times, where devils roll their dice and angels roll their eyes. What doesn't kill Siruko makes him want Sensei more.
Pairing: Limone-Sensei x Siruko 🍋🐶
Warnings: BL, a lot of ANGST (but I'm a sucker for happy endings, don't worry), extremely out of character, pure imagination, REALLY LONG ONESHOT FIC, PG-17 (there's nothing explicit at all, but there are heavy implications of mature themes) Please don't read if you are uncomfortable. You have been warned.
A/N:
Lately all I've been thinking about is LimoSiru, and I've been itching to write this ever since my friend Shuura showed me that picture. I'm really not good with angst, so writing this was a major challenge, and I hope I was able to pull it off.
I also want to thank this person who hates me so much, because if they didn't antagonize me so much with subtle little things that no one else sees, then I wouldn't be able to write this masterpiece. I learned that sometimes, no matter what we do--be kind, ignore, confront--they’ll find anything we do to be annoying and they won’t like us and that’s okay. We don’t have to make people like us, and they don’t have to like us too. It's really not healthy for me to be able to only write under extreme negative emotions and stress, but oh, the beauty that comes out of it is heavenly. I turned my frustrations into something beautiful, and I’m proud of it. Without this person, I wouldn’t have been fueled to finish this.
This is dedicated to all LimoSiru shippers like me. Seriously, what's not to like about LimoSiru? Have you seen how Limone-sensei acts when he's with Siruko versus how he acts with everybody else? Sensei turns into the playful, teasing younger-brother person while older-brother, responsible Siruko laughs exasperatedly at him (LimoSiru Hanany Land Reconstruction Part 1, Sensei's POV). He's usually not like that, always being the tsukkomi to chaotic Hanae, so seeing him be boke with Siruko-san is really cute. Plus, when Sensei scolds Mintosu-san VS when he scolds Siruko-san, you gotta tell me how you don't see how much softer he is with Siruko-san. And yes, it's canon that Siruko-san likes it when Sensei scolds him. He's the reason why the whole recorded voice clips went on sale, after all. Thank gods for the Number One Limojo, Siruko-san.
I should stop before the word count goes even longer. Enjoy!
"Stay."
It was still dark; the stars were still scattered across the night sky. Siruko blinks blearily, sleep still evident in his purple eyes. It was rare for him to be up this early, and for good reason. Siruko wasn't good at goodbyes.
"Stay, please. Sensei." He begs into the darkness, even though it was futile, just like all those times he pleaded before. Siruko follows the movement within the room with half-lidded eyes, crawling over to the other side of the bed. To the side where it always smelled like lemons and happiness. Limone was already buttoning up the white shirt he always liked to wear. A glance at the clock showed it was 3:15 am.
"Ohayou, Siruko-san." Sensei chuckles mirthlessly. The bed dips as the blue-haired man sits down. He takes Siruko's hand and kisses his knuckles, and with his other hand he runs his beautiful fingers through purple hair. Siruko almost purred. "You know I can't." He reasons out with a hint of regret in his deep, melodic voice.
What Siruko knows is how cruel this summer is. For the first time in years, his and Limone-sensei's break finally matched. 30 days of pure bliss--of netflix and chilling, playing games all day, going on sneaky dates, and even a trip to the beach for Sensei's birthday. It was good, all kinds of good that he soaked up and basked in because it was limited--a fragile heaven. Alas, all good things must come to an end.
Who would have thought that the man Siruko met in the net cafe so many years ago would be one of the most popular idols not just in Japan, but the whole world even. He could still remember it like it was only yesterday, when a handsome man was there staring at him as Siruko looked up from the vending machine. They struck up a conversation, and Siruko found himself attracted to this gravity of a man who was as charming as the devil and yet as kind as an angel. Since that day (during which Siruko was in high school making friends with a college student Limone), there was never a day where they didn't talk or hang out. It was almost a love story.
Except it wasn't. While their relationship progressed from gaming friends to real friends to friends with benefits, there was never really a clear status or label as to what they are. Especially when Limone started to upload videos of him singing (encouraged by none other than Siruko himself), and he got discovered by the public. Siruko knew one day he'd be popular; it was even him who nicknamed him 'Sensei' as a result of all those times Limone taught him something he didn't know, and the name stuck and now became a stage name. Singing was Sensei's dream, and he loved it with a passion burning as bright as the sun. Siruko loved it too--loved the twinkle in Sensei's eyes when he sang in front of a sea of crowd, loved the healing laugh when he gets interviewed on the TV, loved every billboard and commercial he sees as he walks throughout the busy streets of Tokyo. It's just, sometimes he wishes he had Sensei all to himself. Sometimes, he didn't want to share him with the world. He immediately feels guilty for that thought and scolds himself for being too selfish.
"Why don't you sleep a little longer. You have 8am classes, don't you? You need some rest." Sensei pecks his cheek sweetly, and Siruko chases his mouth for a better one. He needs it like the air he breathes, a kiss of passion, of desperation, of something that wasn't even his to lose, and Sensei gives it to him like he always does, a hot, bright and burning clash of lips and tongue. Heat pools at the bottom of his stomach and he breaks away to leave a trail of light kisses on Sensei's neck, hoping to make him feel how much he wants him.. hoping...
"Stop, Siruko-san." Sensei growls, pulling away and standing. Siruko stills immediately, shame burning acid behind his eyes. He internally mourns the loss of the warmth of another body. "How many times should I tell you, no marks. I can't come out wearing a hickey, you know that. Papz are everywhere." And just like that, the moment was gone. How unfair, Siruko thinks, because he knows his body is littered with colors of different shades, blue warring with purple, marks planted by none other than the possessive lips of Sensei. Limone likes to make sure Siruko knows who he belongs to. Isn't it unfair how only Siruko's body gets to be decorated with bruises and hickeys? Well, who was he anyway to get possessive over Sensei. He swallows the bile threatening to make his tongue bitter.
At least Sensei had the decency to look guilty. "I'll be touring again in a couple of weeks, in America." The idol sighs resignedly. Siruko closes his eyes in defeat; it was inevitable after all. Sensei puts on his watch with all the speed of a turtle, and Siruko knows he is stalling time, using up every millisecond he's allowed to have with his purple lover (?). Sensei didn't look like he wanted to leave either, a small comfort in the growing ache in Siruko's chest.
"How long?"
"3 or 4 months, I guess."
"That's too long."
"It's really not." That's true. When Sensei finally broke out into the international scene and started holding tours in other countries, he has been gone longer. Siruko can never begrudge him of the distance, because Sensei always Skyped and called him even in his busy schedule, even during the times Sensei can barely talk in his exhaustion. He knows, he understands with his whole being the realities of dating (?) an idol, but that doesn't stop him being upset.
He should just be grateful that Sensei spends time with him, a normal college student.
"I'll walk you to the car, Sensei."
Sensei finishes getting ready, putting his glasses and black mask on. Siruko combs Sensei's cerulean silky hair with his fingers, hair that became so messy from their bedroom activity. Siruko doesn't know why Sensei keeps coming back to him when he could literally have any man or woman in the planet, but he takes pride that he was the only one who can mess up Sensei's hair like this, a result of their dirty bedroom fun.
They walk in silence to Sensei's tacky rental car, a preemptive measure to avoid paparazzi or fans who can recognize him. Sensei holds his hand tightly, rubbing circles on the student's cold skin with his thumb. Siruko's chest is heavy, but there's no use whining. Sensei belongs to the stage, to the millions of fans who adored him. Instead, Siruko tries to think about the Sensei only he had. The Sensei who makes him watch horror movies so Siruko could cling to him when he's scared (the sadistic Sensei who enjoys Siruko being scared out of his wits only to comfort him after), the Sensei he can surprisingly outdrink (and how cute the drunk, clingy Sensei was), the Sensei who pets every street cat they see, and makes sure not to get any cat hair on him so Siruko's allergy won't act up.
August slipped away in a blink of an eye, but Siruko memorized everything. Every conversation, every place they went to, every food they ate. He's always been good at memorizing, and he stores everything in his heart. Sensei wasn't his, but the memories with him were his. No one can take that away.
The purplehead makes a whine at the back of his throat, and Sensei cracks a smile, slowing to a stop. Sensei always knew what he wanted, what he needed. He pushes Siruko-san to the shadow created by the walls in the narrow alley, but no one was around anyway, not at this hour. Sensei removes his mask as the darkness shields them from prying eyes and snakes his hand on the purplehead's waist. The singer cups Siruko's chin, tilting his head up, and Siruko can only grab onto Sensei's arm to steady himself. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is Sensei's hungry blue eyes and his gold ear-piercing, then Sensei swoops in and captures his lips into a hot, wet kiss. Limone-sensei runs his tongue into every cavern of Siruko's mouth, exploring everything, and it feels like heaven, a toe-curling sensation Siruko can never get enough of. Sensei bites his lip and it stings, then sucks on it tenderly as an apology. The pain mixes with the pleasure, and Siruko forgets where they are at the moment. Sensei takes and leads and dominates, and Siruko can only let him, as always. Fireworks explode in his body and Siruko moans loudly, not even caring who hears. The world could burn right now and Siruko will keep chasing Sensei's lips.
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It felt too long and too short at the same time. The need for air separates them, and Siruko pants, chest heaving up and down. "Stay, please, Sensei." He can't stop begging, holding onto the fever dream high Sensei keeps giving him. Siruko knows the answer anyway, knows it from the way Sensei's lips thin into a firm line, knows from the way his shoulders straighten in resolve. However, knowing doesn't make it hurt any less.
"Stop playing so late at night and focus on your studies, okay?" Sensei whispers in his ear, his hot breath tickling him. He caresses Siruko's cheek in a way that he knows will always bring a beautiful blush. Sensei likes the fact that he can easily make Siruko blush.
"Yada."
Sensei flicks his forehead, earning a grumpy pout from the student. The pseudo-teacher gives in to the temptation to kiss that pout away. "If I say yes to your idiotic request of me recording all those freaky lines you want, will you promise to take care of yourself better?"
Siruko pretends to think. "Fine, but I want that 'Bakagayo' morning alarm. It has miracle powers that'll help me for my crazy morning classes." Sensei rolls his eyes but his chest rumbles in deep laughter, and Siruko likes that. Sometimes he imagines those laughs were reserved for him, and he likes making Sensei laugh a lot. He needs this goodbye to end on a positive note, or else he'll break down.
"You'll do great, Sensei. I'm sure everyone will love the new album." He whispers back, careful not to disturb the peace of the early morn. Despite the fame, the money, the influence Limone has, somehow, he always needed to hear this from Siruko-san, and the latter is only happy to give this to him. It was the only other thing he can give, aside from a good one-night stand. Sensei says Siruko grounds him, whatever that means. Siruko doesn't really understand why Sensei needs reassurance--he was a great singer and an even greater human being, with his charm and wit and kindness, and sometimes Siruko feels silly encouraging him, because Sensei was so out of his league. Sensei was everything he's not--confident, beautiful and interesting. He and Sensei live on two different worlds. But Sensei gives him that small, shy smile that Siruko really loves, and Siruko's heart squeezes. He'll fight the world for that precious smile.
Finally Sensei gets in the car. He rolls down the window to wave goodbye, and then he's off, and in a few hours, in another country, a different timezone. Siruko waits till the car disappears around the block, comes back home, then sags down behind the door and cries and cries.
He lets the tears fall until it's time for him to prepare for class. He doesn't even know why it still hurts  even after all these years. He can't get used to it, no matter how hard he tries. He knows they can never be like any other couple holding hands on the street--they're not even a couple. He was just… that guy Sensei keeps coming back to. A friend, at best. He should be content with stolen kisses, hidden touches, forbidden passions. It's nothing new--he knows he has to keep secrets to keep Sensei. So why? Why does it kill him this much?
Maybe it's because when, three days later, he wakes up into an internet chaos when Limone-sensei's new album comes out. The Bintroll group chat descends into panic and madness of 300 messages. He ignores it all and buys the album, listening to it as he prepares a lab report, even though he already knew all of the songs before the release. He pretends that they were about him, for him. If he pretends hard enough, he can imagine Sensei is with him in the room.
Maybe it's because he sees Sensei everywhere, but it wasn't his Sensei. It was the world's Sensei. His new single is played in every music show, in every diner he eats at, it's in the lips of every conversation around him. Siruko's emotions are always a roller coaster during a comeback. It was good for his grades when Sensei is away; he can concentrate on studying while Sensei focuses on his own career. But the phrase 'out of sight, out of mind' wouldn't work when all he can see and hear is Limone-sensei.
The new single sounds really good. Siruko was really proud of him. When Sensei played it for him on the piano, it wasn't a duet yet. It was different from his usual upbeat, rock-popish songs. Sensei didn't usually sing about anything even remotely resembling love, but this one was almost like that, and that's why Siruko loved it. He didn't know Sensei intended for it to be a duet though, and as much as the woman's voice sounded nice, he preferred the version of only Sensei's familiar voice.
(It reminded him of the beach, of fireworks, of Sensei's wonderful birthday spent with Siruko, of a cruel August slipping away like a bottle of wine.)
Maybe it's because no matter how much he wants to tell his friends and family about this, Siruko can't. He does love the small world he and Sensei are in when they're together, where no one can judge them and they're alone and free to love and make love, but in times like this where he's hurting, he really really wants, needs someone he can share his pain to. It only hurts even more when his own friends talk about Sensei in front of him.
"I'm telling you, it's all promotion, promotion! A gimmick so the song will be talked about more! Not that Sensei needs it." Jiraichan huffs in frustration as Siruko arrives at their group's usual bench. He has half-a-mind to turn back and eat somewhere else as soon as he hears the topic, but that would be suspicious behavior. He tries to smile at the others as they greet him, hoping it didn't look as lonely as he really feels inside.
"And I'm telling you, the song itself is about some kind of a summer love! So… what if it's true!" Quartet argues, and Siruko's throat constricts. Did… they find out? Was their affair finally discovered by the world? Oh no, this scandal, it'll be huge, he can't be tarnishing Sensei's name… people will be hating him. It's ok if they hate me, I don't care, but please don't let this ruin Sensei's career, oh god what can he do to clean up this mess, why did he even think he can sort-of date an idol, oh my god ohmygod
"Siruko-chan? Are you okay? You look pale." Ichihachi notes, worry coloring his tone. He puts down his snacks and inspects their leader's face. Siruko didn't even realize he was on the verge of a panic attack. "Did you stay up all night studying again? I thought you got a high score on that midterms."
"I'm fine." But it wasn't true. His chest is being constricted by a big snake, squeezing air out of his lungs. The purplehead tries deflecting. "Where's Hakotaro and Minben-san?"
"They're in class. Siruko-san, have you heard of Sensei's new song? Of course you did, is there anyone who hasn't heard it yet?" Jiraichan asks rhetorically, obviously trying to change the topic away from Siruko to help, bless Jiraichan's soul, but in this case, it only makes it worse. "Do you like it? Do you think the rumors are true?"
"What.." he chokes, feeling the much-needed oxygen escape his body. "...rumor?"
"Eh you didn't know? Hang on." Quartetchi fishes his handphone from his pocket, scrolls for a while, then shows him the screen. A picture of Sensei and the female idol he had a duet with. Sensei's hand was on her back and they were laughing. They look… good together. "It says that Sensei is dating her. The internet's going crazy, but Sensei's company hasn't released a statement yet. It could be true though, I-- wait where are you going? Siruko-san?"
Siruko dashes away, feeling guilty for the three worried, confused looks of his friends he left behind, but he needs to get away. He needs to.. he doesn't know… he never knew it was possible but this was so much worse, so much more painful than earlier. He can't breathe, can't apologize to those he bumps along the way (not recognizing it was Minben-san and Hakotaro who calls his name, tries to grab him but he shakes them off violently). Nothing registers in his mind anymore than the need to get away… He needs to get out of here. He needs to…
Tears stream down his face and he can't even see where he's going. He trusts his legs to take him home, because honestly his brain can't be relied on right now. The image is flashing again and again in his mind, like his own personal hell. He shouldn't worry about it, dating rumors have always been there since Sensei rose to fame, the company will deny it later, Siruko's sure. But there was something ugly, something twisted eating him alive, making it hard to breathe. Maybe it's his insecurities, telling him that they look nice, and dating another idol must be better, because Sensei is honestly better off with anybody than Siruko, a good-for-nothing college student who sometimes streams games with his friends. He was just an old-time friend good for lonely, horny nights, and there wasn't even something between them. Maybe it was just all his imagination, the heated affection he sees in Sensei's electric blue eyes after Siruko tells a horrible joke, the promise of forever after a heated exchange of lips. He thought there was something there. But what if there wasn't?
Before he realizes it, he's in a bar, and he resolves to drown everything in alcohol. He wants to get wasted, to forget about everything, even for just a moment. Maybe even find someone he can replace Sensei with (as if, his heart scoffs). But he can't. Every time someone talks to him, it wasn't that deep melodic voice with witty banter, the voice who always scolds him but is always gentle with him, and he is disgusted with anyone not Sensei. When someone tries to flirt with him, he is revolted and he flinches away, because it wasn't Sensei's beautiful fingers touching him, it wasn't Sensei's rough yet caring touch. He goes home, drunk in the back of the cab and crying all the way home, and thankfully the driver ignores him.
Siruko doesn't realize that he's calling Sensei as he locks his front door. He curses himself as the ring goes too long; it could be any time of the day for Sensei right now, on the other side of the world. He could be preparing for interviews. He could be practicing with his crew. He could be with his girlfriend.
"Hi Siruko-san,"
And Siruko breathes clear for the first time today, that's the effect Sensei's voice has on him. His vision is blurry, maybe from the tears, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the relief that Sensei answered the call. "Hello? Nashita? Is something wrong?"
"Is it true?" He whispers.
"Is what true? Hey, have you been crying?! What's going on?"
"You're dating her."
Siruko hears someone on the other end, maybe Sensei's manager Hanachan, muffled voices in low tones, and he feels guilty for interrupting whatever Sensei was doing. Siruko wants to hang up; he shouldn't be doing this right now, should have planned more for this discussion. He wonders if he can break up with Sensei, if he even has the strength to. The thought is so horrible and unbearable it makes him sick and want to vomit. Call him masochistic, but Siruko isn't above being a side lover, if only just to at least still be beside Sensei in some way. He decides to leave the decision to Sensei, and whatever he wants, Siruko will go along with it, as he always did. He'll follow Sensei to the ends of the world anytime.
"I'm sorry Siruko-san." Siruko intakes a gulp of air at Sensei's tone. This is it, he thinks. It's the end. "I didn't know about the rumor at all. Hanachan said the company is taking care of it."
"She's really pretty. You look good together."
"What?! No way! I told you it's not true! Jesus, Siruko-san." Sensei anger-whispers frustratedly. "I am not dating her."
Siruko pauses, forcing the words out, "But you can."
Sensei's pointed silence was an answer enough and Siruko continues. "You can date her. She's a better match for you more than I will ever be." Sensei inhales sharply that signals he's about to interrupt, but Siruko-san won't let him. For the first time, all the words are flowing. They'd be having the conversation they should have had all along these years. "It's not like we're… what are we, Sensei?" His voice breaks, and Siruko chuckles humorlessly and clutches his aching chest to keep himself together. "I know what I am to you. A friend, a good time in bed. And I'm content to be that. It's up to you now what you want me to be, but please. Please don't keep me away from your life. I… I can't stay away from you, Sensei. I'll be anything you want me to be, as long as I can stay in your life. That's all I ask for."
"Siruko-san," The blue-haired idol starts, and Siruko can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose like he does when something upsets him. Siruko wonders if the new girl knows Sensei like he does, knows how Sensei is annoyed when his glasses are fogged up, knows that Sensei hates cigarettes so Siruko gave it up for him, knows how much Sensei loves sneakers. Siruko grits his teeth angrily. No, no one knows Sensei like he does. Why is it so unfair, why can't Sensei just be his.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm interrupting something, so please, don't mind me. Congrats on your new album and single by the way. Good--
"Wait!!" Sensei shouts frantically. "Siruko-san, please, listen to me." Oh gods, here it comes. Sensei will break up with him. Knowing it's coming doesn't make it any less painful. "You're…
You're very special to me, and I don't want to see you like this. I… I'm sorry… " Siruko's breath hitches as he expects break-up words next. "...that I hurt you, I swear that rumor is false. I would always be honest to you, so please believe me." Sensei pleads. Siruko is confused why Sensei is not yet breaking up with him.
"Can we… this conversation… I think it's better if we talk personally… so I'm really sorry to ask this but, please, wait for me? I'll be home soon, I promise. Wait for me, please?"
Wasn't this something... worse? Waiting for Sensei to leave and dump him… isn't it agony? Sensei should just rip Siruko's heart out right now, swift and easy, on a phone call and not personally, instead of cruelly making him wait for months. But oh well, if Siruko has been able to keep their relationship a secret for five long years, what is a few more months.
"Okay…. I'll wait for you."
"Thank you, Siruko-san. I--" Siruko cuts him off and decides that this conversation has been long enough. He wants to sleep.
"I need to go, Sensei. Before I hang up, can I tell you something? Though, it might be the worst thing you'll ever hear."
Sensei hesitates but relents. "Sure, what is it?"
The few seconds were long enough that Sensei could be thinking he was asleep, but he waits patiently. Siruko decides it's now or never.
"I love you."
Then he hangs up.
November came. Autumn leaves were falling down, a reminder of the beauty of letting go. It had been two months since their last conversation, and it might be the worst two months in Siruko's life. Everyone noticed and were worried, and although Siruko appreciates their concern, he can't exactly tell them why he's not eating well, why he prefers staying on his bed rather than gaming like he used to, and their persuasions are becoming annoying. The purplehead leaves the lecture hall, rearranging his red scarf and wrapping his arms around his bony self. The air was cold, and something about it felt like something was going to happen soon. 
On the way to his apartment building, he sees a familiar man wearing glasses and a black suit with an orange tie, and it was so out-of-place in the sea of half-awake, half-dead zombie horde of students that Siruko couldn't help but stare. The man scans his surroundings and locks eyes with him. Siruko instinctively steps back.
The man approaches him with a big smile. "Hi Siruko-san! We finally meet! I'm Hanae Natsuki, I'm assuming you already know who I am?"
Siruko's lilac eyes widen in surprise. Of course he knows who this man is. He's the only person in the world who knows about his secret relationship with Sensei, although he's never met Sensei's manager personally before. (Even if he's not connected to Sensei, Siruko would have still recognized. Hanachan was as popular to Sensei's fans as the idol was.) He nods, unable to form words out of his nervousness. Why was he here? Is Siruko in trouble? 
"Do you still have classes? Can I invite you for tea?"
"Hai…" Siruko murmurs anxiously. Hanachan flashes him another wide smile and leads him to a sleek, fancy car.
The cafe Hanae-san brought him to was a quaint, charming one, and the smell of coffee and pastry wafts throughout the place. Hanae-san guides him to one of the more private tables. Their orders arrived moments later (expensive-looking aromatic tea for Hanachan and coffee for him, along with several kinds of pastries and treats).
"So, you're a university student? How's school?" Hanachan asks after a sip.
Siruko shrugs, "If I pretend that my professors are the monster bosses in a game I have to defeat and that every year I pass I level up and get closer to clearing the game, it's fine."
"You're a gamer?" Hanachan chuckles at the metaphor. "Sensei always makes me play horror games!" He complains good-naturedly. "What kind of games do you play?"
They converse for a while, pleasant enough to the point where they can laugh for a bit. Hanachan forks the scone to his mouth and remarks, "Now I know why Sensei likes you so much."
Siruko blinked, mouthful of croissant. "Eh??"
Hanachan shakes his head a little, grinning. "You're too cute for your own good. Listen, the real reason I met with you is this." He fishes out a big ticket and an armband from his coat. "Sensei's performing tomorrow at the Unit, so go see him, okay?"
Siruko swallows painfully, biting his lower lip anxiously. "But… doesn't he have an American tour?"
"We're on a break right now." Hanachan assures him, "He misses you. He doesn't say it, but I know him." Hanachan looks at him with heavy intensity, and suddenly Siruko knows why this man was good at what he does. Hanachan knows how to wield his charm and professionalism. Siruko privately thinks he would be super famous too if he weren't a manager. "Go see him, Siruko-san, and if you choose to, please talk to him. Everything will be alright once you talk. Got it?" Siruko finds himself unable to say no, not that he wants to. The thought that he'll be able to see Sensei fills him with nervous excitement. He nods meekly, accepting the gift. To be able to see Sensei, even just as a fan, it's enough. Siruko's stomach is filled with butterflies.
"Sa te, see you there!" Hanachan stands to leave, and Siruko scrambles to bow deeply to thank him. "You're really good for him, you know? Sensei's born to shine under the spotlight, but he won't take the stage if there wasn't someone pushing him and encouraging him from the shadows. He can fly to anywhere in the world, but at the end of the day, he needs and craves a home to come back to. Thanks for being that person, Siruko-san." 
Siruko flushes red at Hanachan's words. "Is it this easy to tease you? I might start doing it more." The manager laughs evilly, causing Siruko to sweat-drop. Hanachan places a firm hand on his shoulder.
"I know you've always been there for him, so continue to take care of him, ne? Let's play together sometime too!"
"Hai!" Siruko's lips twist upwards brightly. Hanachan is an amazing person; he was like a walking sun. Siruko stays in the cafe for a while, staring at the ticket for the details. He really really wants to see Sensei, and he's so tired of stalking him via fancams and tv shows and social media. Tomorrow, no matter what happens, whether Sensei dumps him or not, Siruko's going to see him, and that's all that matters.
It turns out, he'll be going to the concert on his birthday.
When he arrived at the concert venue, Siruko almost wanted to go back home again. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking, whether it was from nerves or excitement, he doesn't know. But the guard recognizes him (maybe Hanachan showed him a picture) and leads him to a back door, where usually the staff and crew are. Hanachan greets him and leads him to the steps that lead to the stage where Sensei already was. Siruko bites his lip and hunches to himself, hoping Sensei wouldn't notice him yet.
It was always a one-of-a-kind experience attending Sensei's concerts, and Siruko loves it. Loves the energy, loves the crowd swaying to the beat and chanting the idol's name. It was electrifying, and he can honestly say it was one of his favorite things in the world. Tonight's concert was a small one, a limited only fan member-exclusive type. But that didn't mean it wasn't crowded. It was Siruko's first time being on the other side of the stage though, and he can see the limojos and fans' excitement as Sensei taps his mic to start the show.
Siruko enjoys the show, he really does, but he feels a bit strange. Usually when he watches Sensei's concerts, he focuses on Sensei alone, blind to everything else. Now that he's on the other side of the stage, he can see the fans' reactions to everything Sensei does, the way their eyes are lit with faithful admiration, the way they absorb everything Sensei says and does, and it reminds Siruko again that Sensei is not his. That Sensei is a performer and he belongs to the microphone, to the stage, to the fans. And Siruko can tell that Sensei loves this, that he's having fun doing this, that the fanchants only motivate him to sing better, to be a brighter star than he already was. Siruko can't take this away from him, and maybe it really was for the best to part ways. If Sensei can't do it, then Siruko needed to be the one that got away. Siruko's heart drops to his stomach, melancholy seeping through his veins. I'd gladly sacrifice my heart and happiness, he thinks sadly, for Sensei.
As Siruko was about to leave, Sensei clears his throat on the mic, implying an encore. A crew hands him a guitar and Sensei jokes a little, and the fans are ecstatic. Sensei looks especially handsome under the bright spotlight, and that's not Siruko being biased. He drinks from his water bottle and suddenly Siruko feels thirsty too (it should be illegal to look that hot just by drinking water). He begins the encore by giving a message, and Siruko decides to stay against his better judgement. It might as well be the last song of Sensei's he'll ever let himself listen to.
"First, I'd like to thank all of my fans and supporters. I owe everything to you guys, and if it weren't for your support I wouldn't be here on this stage. The last five years were truly an amazing ride, and I'm glad to be able to share my music to the world. Thank you so much." He bows deeply. 
Suddenly, Sensei turns his head to the side and their eyes meet, blue connecting to purple. Sensei smiles, and Siruko can't help but to mirror it. Siruko's heart drums out loud in his ears. Limone addresses his audience again. "That's why I'm hoping that my fans can support me in this announcement I'm about to make." Sensei pauses, and there's a mix of confusion and anticipation in the air. Sensei holds Siruko's gaze again as he speaks into the microphone, and the intensity makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter harder. "There's a really special person in my life, a person that I love so much, and I hope my fans will accept that." Siruko's breath hitches. He can hear the shocked noises of the fans but he can't really process anything. Was Sensei… really doing it?
"Many of my fans have asked me before, why I don't sing about romance. I've actually written a lot, but I was scared. I know it's silly and stupid. Me? Scared?" The audience laughs and Sensei does too. Sensei can charm an entire mass of people just by being himself. "But that's the truth. The industry I work on can be ruthless and cruel sometimes, and every little thing I do is subject to the public eye. I wanted to protect this person from the hatred and the judgement, so I kept us a secret for a long, long time."
"How long?" An audience shouts, and Siruko panics, thinks that the fans won't accept, that they're angry, that Sensei's career is blowing up and Siruko's to be blamed, and it must have shown on his face because Hanachan is suddenly beside him brushing up on his elbows, and winks at him. He realizes that this must all be planned, that maybe the fan was planted there to ask it. Siruko relaxes.
"How long, you ask? Five years! It was way before I started being an utaite. Actually, you guys should thank this person because they were the one who told me to upload my singing videos." Sensei declares in amusement. His tone takes a more somber note as he continues. "I'm really sorry for keeping this from you guys, so please don't be mad." Siruko sees some people shake their heads as a reply, and he realizes for the first time that maybe, this could work. The sliver of hope shines bright for the first time in his life. Maybe Sensei can finally be his.
"I guess what I want to say is, I hope people can accept that I'm only human, and it's not a sin to love, is it?" The fans shake their heads unanimously, and some even looked like they were about to melt. Siruko feels he is about to melt too. "I decided that I want to still keep our relationship private, so I hope my real fans respect our privacy. This is me saying that I won't hesitate to shove any paparazzi cameras to their faces, bakatare omaera." The audience laughs and takes every word of Sensei's with an awesome amount of worship, like they're ready to fight anyone that stands in the way of their idol's happiness. "The most you guys get is maybe a hand or a voice in one of my social media posts, and that's it. I'm not sharing this person with anyone." Another audience shouts, "Sensei, aren't you too possessive!" and Sensei roars with laughter, making the audience join him too. "Yes I am!" He says proudly, and Siruko can only chuckle and shake his head exasperatedly.
"I won't be giving any interviews about this, so go ahead and upload this and share it everywhere. I also won't hesitate to take any legal actions, I can totally afford a lawyer or five." Sensei jokes, but everyone knows how serious he is taking this. "I'm just asking my true fans to respect that I'm allowed to love someone and I'll do anything in my power to protect it. Is that okay?"
The audience screams yes, and Sensei laughs, which is music to Siruko's ears already. He feels tears well up in his eyes and tries to hold them back by biting his lower lip. This is too overwhelming, and so different from all the ugly scenarios he was always worried about. This isn't how he imagined it to go, not this easy acceptance from his fans, not Sensei revealing he loves Siruko to the world first before Siruko himself. 
"I'm dedicating this song to that special person. I hope my feelings reach you, love." And the audience went 'aaaaaw' as the lights dim, a lone light focused on the singer.
Sensei began singing the notes to his latest single, and tonight he's performing it as a solo, the way Siruko heard it originally.  And now Siruko understands. It really was that summer: the picturesque beach on that day, the waves on his feet, the sand underneath his body as Sensei smiles on top of him. The beautiful purple twilight, the fireworks he wished would never end along with the summer. For the first time, he can finally assume that the song was his. Sensei was his.
And he can see it. That underneath the Limone-sensei that fans adore and worship on the stage was Siruko's Sensei who couldn't hold his hand in the beginning because he was too shy. That beneath all the glitter and glamour of being an idol, a star, is Siruko's sensei who knows all the spells in the Harry Potter movies, a big big dork who picks out all the vegetables in his food and whines about it unless Siruko threatens to withhold coitus if he doesn't eat it. He's still Siruko's Limone-sensei, who can master any game he plays so easily it's almost god-like, and honestly Siruko thinks Sensei would have been a better pro-gamer than an idol. 
His Sensei, who looks at him from time to time while singing, with love and affection in his intoxicating ocean eyes, something that Siruko can't be mistaken about anymore because it was so clear as the blue sky. 
As the song ended, Hanachan grabs his elbow, and Siruko quickly tries to wipe his cheeks (he didn't even realize he was crying) and Hanachan just gave him a knowing smile. "Here, go to this hotel room," he says while handing out a card. "Wait for him there, Siruko-san."
As he takes the card, he glances towards the stage and once again, blue meets purple eyes. Sensei smiles at him so tenderly it physically hurts Siruko's heart, and Siruko smiles back shyly. He's grateful for a time to collect himself before they talk, because if Sensei kept flashing that stupid disarming loving smile like that, Siruko will probaby die and ascend to heaven.
"Thanks, Hanachan."
"Sure! Just remember, put your hickeys in places we can't see, okay?" Hanachan winks.
Siruko blushes so hard he turns beet red, and Hanachan laughs loudly at his expense.
It took Siruko a long time to come down from the high Sensei brought him to. After admiring and checking out the high-class, fancy hotel room, he decides to take a shower to help calm himself down. Just as he came out of the (really big) bathroom, Sensei barges in with a loud noise, takes one long head-to-toe gawk at Siruko's robe-clad wet body, and Sensei lunges at him like a hungry predator, kissing him hard, taking his robe off faster than you can say "darling".
They're lying on the fancy bed now, silky sheets tangled up between them, the perfect afterglow leaving them to their own thoughts and to catch their own breaths. When he turns to his side to look at Sensei, he sees that Sensei still hasn't come back to Earth either, what with his dopey smile and glazed blue eyes. Siruko wants to bottle up this moment forever.
However, some matters need to be discussed first, even though Siruko would rather talk with his body than his mouth. "I think we should talk, Sensei."
"No shit." Sensei chuckles then faces him. This close, Siruko can feel Sensei's breath fanning his face, can count each beautiful eyelash, can easily touch Sensei's collarbone and feel the warm skin against his. Sensei takes his hand and kisses it, and Siruko follows the movement with his eyes. It was incredibly intimate, and he only realizes now that Sensei liked to do this all the time. He really was that blind, huh.
"First, I want to apologize. Nope, don't interrupt," Sensei puts a finger on his lips when Siruko was about to react. "This was my fault, and I'm surprised that you held out so long for me. Thinking back, that was really shitty of me and you could have left me, but you didn't. Thank you."
Sensei gathers his thoughts with a deep breath. "This is such a lousy excuse, but the truth is, I didn't have time to think about us. I was always chasing after my career, and frankly, I took you for granted. I never told you, but you're the anchor that keeps me stable and steadfast even against the stormiest weathers. The reason I can sail through this shitshow of a show business is because I have you to come back home to." Sensei traces his jawline affectionately, unknowingly repeating Hanae-san's words. Siruko's heart clenches. "You're my lifeline, Siruko-san. And you've been so patient, so kind, so understanding, waiting for me all this time. I'm so incredibly grateful but also really surprised that you haven't left my dumbass." They both let out amused laughs at that.
"After you called me that day, I realized how much I screwed up. I was so focused on keeping us a secret that I never even told you how I felt about you. So I talked to my agency, told them I want to announce us, and... wait, I realized I went ahead and said we're dating even though I never really asked you out." Sensei realizes, horror dawning on his face.
"Bakagayo," Siruko whispers Sensei's favorite phrase, making Sensei laugh. "You already said it out there, so you can't take it back. Oh my god, we're," Siruko mirrors Sesnsei's stricken pose as the realization hits him. "...dating! Sensei, punch me so I know I'm not dreaming."
"Bakagayo," Sensei shows him how it's said the right way, and Siruko giggles. He loves it when Sensei says that. "I talked to my agency, and at first they were hesitant. It's understandable, but my career could burn at our door and I wouldn't care. You can't expect an idol to sing about love when they're not allowed to love. That's stupid." He rolls his eyes irritatedly, and traces Siruko's lips with his finger.
"I did tell them I have hundreds of songs written about you, so that's good album material as any. There wasn't any point arguing with me because my mind was all made up, and Hanachan was totally backing me up hard. We pestered and badgered until they gave up and let me."
"But… wouldn't this damage your career?"
"Hmmm… the crazier fans would flip out, but I couldn't care less. Haven't you seen my fans? They're the kindest!"
"That's true." Siruko agrees. "Are you sure the limojos won't hate me?"
"Are you kidding? And aren't you my number one limojo, though?" Sensei kisses his nose, and Siruko giggles again, pressing closer. "But we're still gonna be private about this. Just as a precaution, I don't want anyone crazy coming after you, so I'm not revealing your identity if I can help it, and we still can't go out on dates in public. I'm sorry." Sensei hugs him tighter, kissing his violet hair as a sincere apology.
"It's okay, no one has to know about us. I'm already content that everyone knows you belong to me." Siruko feels Sensei laugh through the vibrations in his chest. The feeling of hearing Sensei's heart beat like this was magnetic. "But can we at least take a pic so I can tell my family and Bintroll?"
"Now? You really wanna be announcing us to them naked and just after we had---"
"NO!! LATER!! BAKA BAKA BAKA!"
Sensei laughs, and Siruko feels that everything is okay in the world. It feels like he's been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and it's been lifted off of him now. He relaxes further into Sensei's embrace, rubbing his head into the crook under Sensei's chin and burrowing further, like a feline. Sensei responds by stroking his hips, and Siruko knows it won't be long before they start their tumble in the sheets again, coz Sensei is insanely insatiable like that. But for now, Siruko savors the cuddles. Honestly, he didn't care about them hiding. It just feels better now that he can at least tell his friends, and that no matter what happens, he knows that Sensei is his. 
Of course it won't be easy, the complications of dating a famous person are always there to ruin things after all, but Siruko doesn't really care. As long as he gets to be with Sensei, that's enough. Even if he doesn't get to scream it to the world, as long as Sensei loves him back, it'll always be enough.
Siruko reluctantly pulls back from his warm cocoon of Sensei's arms to look up to Sensei's beautiful piercing eyes. "Sensei, I need to tell you something that might be the worst thing you'll ever hear."
"Hn?" Amusement dances in his blue eyes, already knowing what it is.
"I love you." 
"Jya, I'll tell you something too, but it might be even worse than what you just told me."
"Un?"
"I love you too. And happy birthday."
The kiss that came after was electricity starting up their hearts, fire burning their bones. It was blue as the beauty of sky, the loyalty and trust in every shade. It was purple painting the twilight, devotion and passion in every stroke of color.
It might have been a cruel summer, but Siruko wants every kind of summer with Sensei.
Later, the locket that was his birthday present opens up to a picture of them kissing at that beach, taken after Sensei had just turned his brain, body and soul into mush after their mind-blowing something and just right after fireworks decorated the night sky, and Siruko decides it wasn't really a cruel summer after all.
The End.
A/N:
I did imagine an omake where Siruko sends a picture of Sensei kissing his cheek while they're in bed to the Bintroll group chat, and Jiraichan screams "WHAAAAAAT", Quartetchi furiously types, "IS THIS A PRANK", Ichihachi calmly sends "Congratulations", and Minben-san teases him "Wow, way to go getting yourself a sugar daddy. Omeome!" Hakotaro calls him angrily and scolds him, but in the end, he was happy for his Niisan. (And maybe he gives Sensei the shovel talk later. Hurt my Niisan and I'll drive a wooden stake straight to your heart.)
My only regret is I want to write Sensei's pov, coz obviously Siruko can be a little bit of an adorable baka who doesnt see how much Sensei loves him---
The fantastic art in this story was made by my friend Shuura, so please do not grab or reupload it elsewhere. Thank you, Shuura! Click this to see more of her Limone-sensei art! 💙
Send me your reactions and comments! I'd love hearing your thoughts! Also, you can send some prompts or requests, I'd like to try challenging myself in writing, and any Bintroll pairing is fine! Thanks for reading~ 🌻
Also, the thought of scared-to-death Siruko-san x horror-fears-me Limone-sensei is haunting me, help I love this trope.
Lastly, I wonder if anyone can recognize the easter eggs and real references I wrote. There were a lot 🍋🐶
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