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theyareweird · 1 month

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Nurturing Beastman – Chapter 3

Easily Swayed

Niko immediately scooped Kianna back into his arms. Although she wasn’t his mate, unmated Nature Beastman still have the instinct to care for Nurturer Beastman. “Don’t worry, Kianna, I’ll get you to the doctor.” Niko reassured her. Before Onica could blink, the humanoid cat was out the door again.

“Wait! I want to go, too!” Onica cried. Even though they weren’t injured, they were incredibly curious as to what kind of medical care this world had. For all Onica knew, it could involve dangerous practices from the nineteenth century, which didn’t treat patients. Instead, the horrific treatments left people with severe disabilities or death.

Kianna sighed in frustration. She’s had no say in anything since she arrived in this strange place. The only positive side to this situation was she wasn’t alone. Whoever the incredibly short person was in the hut happened to be from the same world as her. That was obvious based on their clothes. Unfortunately, Kianna was whisked away to another place all because of a twisted ankle. She was sure she would be fine if she could stretch it, but these cat shifters were extremely concerned over nothing.

“Doctor Felix! A Nurturer needs your assistance!” Niko cried.

A humanoid man with orange tabby cat ears then pushed open the wooden door to his medical hut. “Niko? You have a Nurturer?” He questioned. Felix then stared at Kianna and nodded. “Please come in.” He insisted.

The calm doctor then left his door wide open and walked back into his hut. Inside, the floor was the dirt ground, but there was a woven rug or two laid out for patients to sit on. Niko approached one of these rugs and sat with his legs crossed. There, Kianna was positioned in the cat’s lap. In the center of the hut was a fire pit. The smoke rose up and out of a hole in the ceiling. Lining the circumference of the huts floor were several woven baskets, which each held herbs and spices.

“What seems to be the problem?” The composed doctor asked.

“I twisted my left ankle. It’s nothing to worry about.” Kianna dismissed.

Niko huffed in response. “Of course it is!” He hissed. “You need to be happy, safe and healthy.” Niko insisted. “You are as clueless as Onica.” He muttered under his breath.

Felix nodded in agreement. He then approached Kianna and looked at Niko. “May I touch your mate?” Felix asked.

Niko shifted his eyes elsewhere. “She’s not my mate.” He mumbled.

Felix pursed his lips. “My apologies…” He said, bowing his head. Felix then redirected his attention onto Kianna and asked, “May I please touch you?” Kianna nodded in response. Kneeling in front of the pair, Felix removed Kianna’s left shoe and set it aside. He then looked up at the entrance to see the chief arrived.

Out of respect, Felix bowed his head. “Hello, chief. What brings you here?” He enquired.

“I’ve brought a Nurturer with me. They wish to see your work in action.” Kiki announced.

“Really? No Nurturer has ever taken an interest in my work before.” Felix gasped.

Onica then came walking up and wandered inside the hut. “Sorry, don’t mind me. I am just curious.” They awkwardly admitted. From inside, Onica quietly settled onto the other woven rug.

“Curiosity is a wonderful thing.” Felix smiled. His greenish yellow eyes held a soft look towards Onica. Felix’s gaze then lingered on the person for a moment to their dismay. Onica wasn’t trying to gain the doctor’s attention, but it seemed it was easy to attract. Due to this, they shyly stared into their lap to avoid further interruption. With that, Felix turned back towards Kianna and frowned. “I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with this thin skin.” He said, referring to Kianna’s tights. “You’ll have to remove them if I am going to conduct a proper examination.” Felix instructed.

Kianna wanted to squirm uncomfortably, but she feared smearing blood all over Niko if she did. “Okay, but you and Niko need to leave for a moment so I can change with some privacy.”

Onica then lifted their head. “Oh, can one of you please find strips of cotton for Kianna?” They requested.

Felix smiled and said “Of course, I know exactly where to get some.” The orange tabby cat then rose from his position and gestured for Niko to follow him. Scooting out of the black cat’s lap, Kianna watched as the two humanoid cat beastman left her alone with the person named Onica.

After the males left, Onica leaned into Kianna’s space. Although the beastman were gone, they weren’t taking any chances. These mud huts might as well have been paper thin because there was no privacy to have a personal conversation. “You’re not from this world, are you?” Onica whispered. Their lips formed into a small smile. Kianna shook her head in response. “I didn’t think so, but I had to be sure.” Onica grinned. “I guess I arrived in this world a little before you. I don’t know much, but I do know human-looking people like you and me are called Nurturers or Nurture Beastman.” They began. Onica then heavily sighed at this next part. “I could be wrong, but from what I’ve observed or have rarely seen, Nurturers are scarce. Apparently, we’re needed to lovingly raise children because Nature Beastman can’t do it for some reason.” They explained.

Kianna blinked in response. They didn’t show it on their face, but they were listening. Everything Onica was saying kind of explained why she was being coddled by these strangers.

“Nature Beastman are people with animal traits. They can shift into the animal of their biological clan. We are obviously in a Cat Tribe of the Cat Clan.” Onica shrugged. “I told Chief Kiki I’m from the Ape Clan because those are the only tribes where Nature Beastman don’t have an animal form. It’s also supposedly the most intelligent clan in this world, too. I thought the cover story would explain why I don’t know much about this universe.” They explained.

Kianna nodded in understanding. “In that case, I’ll be from the Ape Clan, too.”

Onica then sighed in relief and smiled. “Good, you got all that! I don’t know about you, but considering we’re the only two people not from this world, I’d like to stick close to you if that’s okay.” They pleaded with their eyes.

“I agree.” Kianna replied.

Onica clapped their hands together. “Oh, thank you so much!” They sighed.

Felix then waltzed through the door with several strips of cotton. “I’m back. I have what you requested.” He smiled.

Onica then took the cotton strips from Felix, which caused a faint blush to appear across his face. “Thank you so much. This will help Kianna’s per— I mean, uterus cycle.” They chirped.

Felix then directed his attention onto Kianna. “Congratulations!” He happily commented.

Kianna tried to force a smile to be polite, but the situation was awkward. “Uh, um, thank you.” At least Kianna knew these beastman were aware of monthly issues for females and female-bodied people.

After that, Felix excused himself to allow Kianna to remove her stockings and underwear. Onica then requested Felix take Kianna’s underwear and wash it the best he can in a bowl of water. Unfortunately, the tights were useless at this point. Once Felix was done with the task, he returned to find Kianna sitting on a cotton strip on top of the mat where he left her. “I left your loincloth to dry on a tree branch.”

“Uh, thank you.” Kianna awkwardly replied. Apparently, beastman have no use for underwear. Of course, Kianna should have put that together upon seeing Niko’s shameless flaunting earlier.

“Let’s have a look at your ankle, shall we?” Felix insisted, kneeling in front of Kianna. Taking the girl’s thin ankle into his hands, the feline noticed some slight swelling. “It looks like you did twist your left ankle after all.” He stated. Felix then retrieved some ginger from a basket. Breaking off a piece, he scrubbed the golden root between his hands to crush it before rubbing it against Kianna’s infected area. “Messaging the area will get some blood flowing to your ankle. Using the ginger will warm your blood. It also helps with foot massages.” Felix explained, talking more to Onica now than Kianna at this point. The orange tabby cat was trying to impress Onica with his knowledge.

Kianna grunted in response. Massaging her ankle with the plant hurt a bit at first, but it gradually eased the pain over time. “Thank you for your help.” Kianna said with a kind smile.

“You’re welcome.” Felix nodded. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked.

Onica then pointed at the several wicker baskets and asked, “Can I have some of those, please?” Their pale blue eyes sparkled at the sight of all the spices lying around. Onica had no idea where to find all these plants out in the wild, but they could recognize basic cooking ingredients when they saw them.

Felix blinked in confusion. “All the herbs and plants in these baskets are medicine. Are you unwell?” He then placed the back of his large hand across Onica’s forehead to check their temperature. “I could give you a personal check-up to be sure.” Felix insisted with a flustered look on his face.

Onica shook their head and said “No, no. I would just like to have some so I don’t always have to visit you when you’re busy with other patients.” They explained.

Felix frowned at this. “You’re always welcome at my clinic... I would never be too busy for you.”

Kianna was internally cringing at Felix’s painfully obvious feelings for Onica. However, the person he wished to pursue is extremely clueless to his demeanor. The entire encounter was quite odd seeing Felix had only met Onica a while ago in the day. Then again, Niko was pretty direct about his intentions towards Kianna herself even though they had only met today as well. Perhaps cat beastman were desperate for mates. After all, Onica mentioned nurturers were potentially rare in society despite requiring them for survival.

Art by: @vanillafalvoredcoffee

Kianna Komori OC by: @nunezs-stuff

#nurturing beastman #beastman #story #queer #lgbtq+#nonbinary

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starryhyuck · 3 years

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mark! (m)

pairing: dom!mark x sub!reader x dom!yuta

words: 2.2k+

summary: mark is scared of stepping out of his comfort zone with you. therefore, you enlist yuta’s help to get your boyfriend a little more comfortable.

genre: smut

warnings: threesome (kind of), anal sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, breeding kink

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

You sigh. “Mark, stop being such a scaredy cat.”

The frown on his face is positively adorable. You want to squeeze his cheeks so badly. “I’m not a scaredy cat!” He protests, but it only makes him look more soft.

You giggle and press a kiss to his lips. “Whatever you say. Besides, Yuta won’t be back for a while. I don’t know why you’re so scared.”

“I’m not scared!” He argues again, eyebrows furrowing together in the most adorable way. “I just- this is Yuta’s bed. It’s kind of impolite to be doing anything on a place where he sleeps.”

You sigh. “Mark, I think we both know what kind of a person Yuta is. I’m pretty sure he would do the exact same thing on your bed.”

His nose scrunches as the thought passes through him.

“Ew. I didn’t need that visual.”

You flop down on Yuta’s comforter before bringing Mark with you. He’s still very reluctant, despite connecting your lips together. You try easing him up, hands moving over his shoulders as you pull him closer and closer.

Your sex life with Mark was always more than satisfying, but he was constantly scared to take risks. Being an exhibitionist yourself and considering how shy Mark could get, it was really difficult to get your boyfriend to even hold your hand in front of the other members, let alone kiss you. You’ve tried on more than one occasion to suck him off at the dinner table, but he was always too on edge that someone would walk in.

To combat your curiosity, you enlisted Yuta’s help.

Your eyes carefully watch the door as Mark’s tongue explores your mouth. Yuta stares through the small opening, watching you with a heavy glare.

You giggle into the kiss and Mark eases up a little at the sound. Your fingers dance around his neck as you pull him closer and closer, observing as Yuta casually walks into the room. Mark is too lost in you to notice.

After letting you make out for a few more minutes, Yuta finally clears his throat. You swear Mark jumps five feet in the air and scrambles away from you. His whole face is flushed pink at the sight of Yuta, quickly stuttering to provide an excuse.

Yuta raises an eyebrow. “And what were you two doing exactly?”

You blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

He smirks at your act. You’re still sprawled out on his bed, hair tangled from Mark’s fingers messily running through it. Yuta wonders how pretty you would look with his cock sliding in your mouth, beautiful lips eager to taste him. He leans closer to your frame, ignoring Mark’s surprise at his older member’s proximity to his girlfriend.

“I mean you and Mark trying to fuck on my bed.”

“W-We’re sorry, Y-Yuta!” Mark frantically says. “W-We just- I just-“

Yuta chuckles, and the deep sound shoots straight to your core.

“It’s fine, Mark. You weren’t putting on much of a show anyways. Why haven’t you touched her?”

Mark looks like his brain is going on overdrive. “W-What?”

Yuta’s fingers graze over your exposed thigh. He picked out the skirt you were wearing for this occasion, knowing it would make Mark incredibly flustered.

“Why haven’t you touched her? That’s what she wants, isn’t it?”

You quickly nod. “It’s what I want. Touch me, Yuta, please.”

Yuta grins, his eyes darting back to Mark’s. “Can I, Mark?”

You think your boyfriend is really broken. He’s nervously twitching, shaking his head as he tries to gather his thoughts. You decide to give him a little break.

“I thought Yuta could help us out a little, Mark. I asked him to come so we can have more fun.”

Yuta nods. “If you’re uncomfortable, Mark, I can leave.”

The silence in the air is deafening. Mark finally clears his throat. “Can you show m-me how you do it?”

Yuta smirks. “Do what, exactly?”

The blush fully appears on Mark’s cheeks again. “Um, how you eat her out.”

Your eyes widen. You were definitely not expecting him to say that. Yuta’s smirk widens at the request.

“Definitely. Sit down and watch.”

Yuta’s staring at your clothed core in no time, playing with the hem of your skirt. He chuckles when he sees your choice of underwear.

“Lace,” he hums playfully, snapping the elastic against your skin as you squeak. “Do you always wear such pretty panties for Mark?”

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “I have prettier ones in his top drawer.”

“I’d love to see them some time, doll.”

You eagerly watch as Yuta pulls down your panties, making a show as his hands slowly caress your thighs. He throws the pair of red lace to Mark, who easily catches it and groans. Yuta yanks up your skirt so he can fully gaze at your exposed cunt.

He chuckles. “You should be nicer to her, Mark. She’s got such a pretty pussy.”

You moan when his fingers play with your folds, goosebumps spreading across your skin. You quickly learn that Yuta is a tease, patient as he touches you.

“Please, Yuta,” you beg, wanting him to do something already.

His smile appears again. “What is it, doll? What do you need?”

“Need your mouth,” you whine. “And your fingers.”

You’re already turning into a blubbering mess. Mark, on the other hand, could not be more nervous. He finds this whole situation incredibly arousing, but also dangerously intimidating. He wonders if Yuta will be better than him, and if you’ll like Yuta way more than you like him. All thoughts are thrown out the window when Yuta’s tongue takes a lick up your slit. Your moans shoot straight to Mark’s hardened cock, and Mark has no doubt in his mind that he could cum in his pants right now.

He takes silent notes as Yuta teases you, never fully giving you what you want and watching as you continue to beg for him. Yuta slips a finger into your hole and you cry out, your body reacting to every single touch.

Yuta’s gaze returns to Mark. “See? She likes it when you don’t go too fast. Draw it out, make her beg.”

Mark swallows at the sudden lessons. He’s always been really quick with you, never letting you wait this long.

“Yuta, please, please,” you continue to whimper, hands reaching for him. Yuta is quick to silence you, pinning your arms to your sides.

“Be a good girl and I’ll reward you. No touching until I say so.”

You nod in submission. Mark’s eyes zero in on Yuta’s tongue exploring your folds, finger slowly pushing in and out of your weeping pussy. Mark swears he’s never heard you this wet before, the squelch of Yuta’s finger entering you echoing throughout the room. When Yuta adds a second finger, you almost lose it.

“Please please, Yuta, I want to cum. Please let me cum,” you cry.

“That’s up to Mark,” he states, and the younger boy freezes. “Can she cum, Mark?”

Your eyes are glistening with tears as you stare at your boyfriend. You whimper when Yuta furiously begins eating you out, your orgasm dangerously approaching.

“Wait, wait, wait-“

“Give her the signal, Mark,” Yuta instructs, attacking your pussy with his tongue and fingers.

Mark waits until you’re right on the edge, seconds away from sobbing. He walks over and leans down until he’s whispering in your ear.

“Cum, pretty girl.”

You fall apart, clutching your boyfriend’s arm as you clench around Yuta’s fingers. He helps you ride out your high, licking up any remnants of your orgasm.

You blearily come to your senses after that mind numbing climax, Yuta and Mark discussing quietly. There’s a faint ringing sound in your ears until Mark cups your cheeks.

“Okay?”

You giggle. “Okay.”

He laughs at your delirious state.

“Does she always get like that?” Yuta questions.

“Only when it’s really good,” he replies. His focus turns back to you. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You giggle again. “Okay.”

He smiles fondly at you, and butterflies swell in your chest like they always do when Mark smiles at you like that.

“Make it rough,” Yuta chimes in. “I want to see her really cry.”

You’re flipped onto your stomach in no time, Mark’s fingers threading your ass. Yuta’s taken a seat not far from the bed, switching roles with Mark as he watches you this time. Mark’s thumb gently grazes over your other hole and you gasp.

Yuta’s voice is full of curiosity. “She likes it there?”

“Sometimes.” He pauses before making a decision. “Can I fuck you here, baby?”

“Yes, Mark, please.”

You can practically hear his grin. “Okay.”

Yuta tosses him the bottle of lube he keeps in his nightstand, and Mark quickly preps you. You moan when he fingers you, scissoring and stretching you to make sure you’re ready to take him.

You and Mark rarely do anal, mostly because he’s always afraid of hurting you. You know now, though, that he wants to put on a good show for Yuta.

Once you’re prepped enough, you feel the tip of his cock circling your hole. You both groan when he sinks the tip in. Unlike the other times, Mark doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He pushes into you roughly.

You cry at the intrusion, already feeling the first batch of tears painting your cheeks. Around this time, Mark usually pulls out and apologizes, checking if you’re okay. He’s turned into a completely different person in front of Yuta.

You grip the sheets as Mark relentlessly pounds into you, stretching you harder than he has before. It isn’t painful at all because even though Mark is rough with you, he always knows how to make you feel good.

You’re incoherently blubbering for him. “Y-Yes, feels so good. Feels s-so good, baby. Such a big cock inside my small little hole. So good, so good.”

Mark grunts, fingers tangling into your hair again. “Yeah? You like it when I fuck your tight little hole? You like making a show for Yuta?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob.

You can barely make out Yuta’s figure as he grows closer to you, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

“Aren’t you such a pretty sight? Really selfish of Mark to keep you all to himself.”

Mark pinches your clit and you scream, diving headfirst into your second orgasm. Mark hisses as you clench even harder around him, pulling you as close as possible before shooting his cum deep inside you. You both release little moans as you recover.

Yuta laughs when you both are done. You swear you could pass out right now and sleep for at least twenty four hours straight.

The ringing sound echoes in your ears again as Mark and Yuta quietly converse once more. You whimper when Mark pulls out of you, his cum dripping down your thigh.

“Baby?” Mark’s voice pulls you out of your reverie. “Yuta wants to ask you something.”

You blink as Mark gently flips you on your back again. Yuta’s eyes grow darker.

“Are you on the pill?”

You nod.

“Can I try something?”

You nod again.

Mark leaves you to go get cleaned up and you observe as Yuta pulls his cock out, tip leaking and begging for attention. He runs his hand up and down his shaft for a few times before lining up with your pussy.

“Can I?”

You nod again, feeling too tired to form words. You gasp when Yuta pushes in, his cock much thicker than Mark’s.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes focusing on how his cock disappears into your cunt. “So fucking perfect.”

He builds up a steady rhythm, and you finally understand what he wanted to try when he’s balls deep inside of you.

“Gonna breed you, doll. Gonna stuff my cum into your cunt until you’re dripping. Would you like that? Walking around with cum dripping out of both of your holes?”

You openly cry at his filthy words, clenching harder around him.

“Oh, pretty doll likes that. You think I’d never notice how many times you’ve tried to get Mark to fuck you while we’re eating dinner? How many times you’ve sat on his lap in the dressing rooms and tried to get him to fuck you in front of us? Naughtily little slut.”

“Yuta, Yuta,” you gasp, your third orgasm of the night building. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Want to cum? Why don’t you cum for me then? Show Mark why he should be more protective of his girl.”

You follow his command, seeing white as you cum again. Yuta’s right behind you, still hissing dirty confessions.

“Always wondered what it was like to see you stuffed full of cum. Pretty little girl, just waiting to be bred all the time. Practically made to take cock.”

He growls and with a few more snaps of his hips, he shoots his cum deep inside you. You whine as his warmth fills you, Mark’s cum still leaking out of your other hole.

You feel absolutely used when Yuta pulls away from you. You didn’t even notice Mark had entered the room again until he starts cleaning you up. You smile sleepily at him.

“I hope that was okay.”

He presses a kiss to your lips. “More than okay. Get some rest, I’ll clean you up.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As you slowly drift off to sleep, you faintly hear Yuta say, “We should do that again, I could die a happy man in your girlfriend’s cunt.”

#nct smut #mark lee smut #mark #yuta smut #yuta

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script-nef · 3 years

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a warmer side of winter | Aizawa Shouta

Category: fluff 2.7k words; what to do when your boyfriend's in imminent threat of a cold

A sneeze brings your attention from the test papers to your boyfriend currently being trampled over by Mr Mittens. He looks completely unaffected by the fact that the furball’s jellied toes are pushing into his cheeks. In fact, he looks pretty happy.

“Bless you. You okay? You’ve been sneezing a lot lately.”

He says something that resembles an “I’m fine.” but a second sneeze, one loud enough to frighten poor Mr Mittens and make him hiss, makes you think otherwise.

It’s cold despite the fact that it’s mid-autumn and the leaves haven’t begun to fall in earnest. People in thick coats and jackets, hands armed with gloves and heads topped off with beanies are a common sight when you walk to your school in the morning. Thank goodness your quirk allows you to have a high body temperature and be resistant against the cold. A pity Shouta doesn’t have the same perks, but it means he’ll cuddle with you more often so you’re not complaining.

A third sneeze and you’re really getting worried. Shouta doesn’t get sick easily but when he does, he suffers for weeks. It got slightly better when you moved in and started cooking meals that are actually nutritious with him, but he still has an incredibly bad time. You spend every hour you don’t see him wondering if he had collapsed somewhere or if the illness had somehow gotten worse. Last time, he actually used his accumulated off-days groaning away in bed after a fever rendered him practically useless. Apparently, he could barely see a metre in front of him without feeling woozy. Principal Nezu sent him home immediately and called you about the situation.

“Why don’t you take some cold medicine and turn in early today? These tests can wait another day and you really need some sleep.” Stacking the unmarked tests into a neat pile and standing up groaning as your joints pop, you walk over to Shouta and relieve him of Mr Mittens’ antics. The little rascal purrs contently in your arms and you rub your face into his back. It instantly makes you soft and happy.

A low chuckle makes you detach your face from Mr Mittens and you see Shouta, laying on the floor, smiling tiredly at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re both cute.”

Heat rises to your cheeks as you bury your face into Mr Mittens again, trying to hide your embarrassment. He always has a way with words. Such a shameless romantic at times, able to break down your defence with such ease. He always abuses it and makes you blush in the most unfortunate times, mostly in front of co-workers and friends over the phone. So that he’s free of people hearing him be sickeningly sweet while you melt, like a scheming bastard. A bastard you love.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Playing oblivious. Such an old trick.

“Stop. I’m going to faint from overheating, you meanie. Come on, let’s get to bed.” He laughs at that, the infamous Totoro smile on his face. It looks like he’s become one with the floor, as if he’s grown roots, but he rises more easily than you thought when you pull him up. He hugs you from behind and shuffles into the bedroom, yawning as he does so. It’s infectious and now you’re sleepy as well.

The bed is warm and comfortable when you fall into it, limbs and joints becoming loose. Shouta is the same beside you, face smushing into the mattress. Mr Mittens is lying on top of his head, pushing it further in and ensuring that your poor boyfriend will die from suffocation.

You save him by lifting the cat and placing him on his usual spot on the bed, just by the foot of it where there’s no danger of either you or Shouta kicking him off. Shouta shifts so that he’s facing you, a small smile thanking you. You smile back and feel your eyes slowly close.

---

A lot of people look at you weirdly when you’re walking around in the corridors. Co-workers and students alike, casting side-way glances and chattering amongst themselves when they think they’re out of earshot. Understandable, since you have a complete mess on your hands that has remained stubbornly tangled for over 20 minutes. The more you try to unravel it, the more tightly it binds. Sometimes your abilities, even the unwelcome ones, amaze you.

The staring follows until you hide behind the safety of the staff room door, shuffling into your seat. Ten more minutes of struggling ensues, and just when you’re about to give up, the red wool comes loose. Perfect timing, since you were two seconds away from burning the whole thing up out of anger.

And now you’re back to the hellish task of knitting again. You curse yourself from three days ago who thought of this in the first place and yourself from two hours ago who thought that it would be perfect to start this task during school hours.

A long, long sigh escapes you. One so long that other teachers in the room peek over to see what’s bothering you. Once they realise you’re holding a messy tangle of red wool connected to a barely started scarf, they nod and mind their own business. Leaving you to wallow in your talentless misery. Your head repeatedly thuds against the table lightly, a small groan decorating the sounds. A vague memory of starting knitting a few years ago pops up. Now that you think about it, this is the reason you gave up in the first place and haven’t picked it up since now when your treacherous brain had a brilliant lightbulb of an idea which consisted of “I can totally do this when it’s right after exam season and I have tons of papers to mark! I can totally. Do it.”

The theory that your brain hates you is becoming more and more believable.

A ping stops you from your self-loathing, and your head immediately perks up at the custom set tone.

make sure you’re warm today it’s getting colder this week

A soft smile graces your lips at the text. He should be in class right now. Last night’s pillow talk consisted of him muttering about a written test he needed to give to his kids and that he’s incredibly sure that at least four of them will fail. The fifth one is just on the border, hanging precariously by one or two marks, or at least that’s what their past exams seem to prove. One thing that made it easier to sleep for him was the fact that they were actually improving, albeit slowly. The grumbling went on and on until he slowly dozed off, his voice getting weaker and weaker. It was, to say plainly, so goddamn freaking adorable. Everything he does is adorable.

Yup! You stay warm too, we don’t want you catching a cold and spreading it across two schools. Love youuuuuu *mwah*

The read receipt comes up. There’s no response for a long time but the little bubble with 3 dots makes its appearance. It comes and goes multiple times, and a whole minute passes before he finally makes his decision.

love you too

You break out in laughter, frightening your poor co-workers, at his short and curt confession. Even though he’s smooth as hell in person, he’s always so embarrassed to send it in a text. You can almost see him blushing profusely and trying to hide his face from his students. He constantly mutters about how Hizashi will ruin him if he ever sees it and yet never fails to send these types of messages. It’s one of the reasons you associate Shouta with the words “so cute and sweet my heart will explode”. Bolded. Underlined. Multiple times. Maybe italicised as well.

With joy and newfound vigour, you turn the laptop on to find the knitting tutorial and continue on. You’ve never slacked off when it comes to him, after all, he never does for you.

---

It takes two weeks. Two full weeks of constantly watching the video until it’s practically burned into your memory, of redoing finished areas because it doesn’t look nice, and one unfortunate incident of Mr Mittens clawing the start because he could. Then he mrawed proudly at you, as if he was asking if he did a good job. As much as you wanted to say no, you’re physically incapable of being mean to Mr Mittens. He deserves all the love in the world.

So you had to retain your tears and sadly start again. Thankfully the second time was much faster and with less mistakes. And you also changed the wool to make it more fluffy and warm, as the temperature is dipping lower than you previously thought. It’s November but it’s already snowing a bit.

You actually had the first snow of the year a week ago, meaning you miscalculated by so little yet so much, in the safety of your warm and cozy apartment. Tucked under the thick blanket and your cute cat snoring away in your lap, Shouta’s arm wrapped around you. His and your work all done and stacked up neatly. That had been a good day.

And today will also, hopefully, be a good day.

That’s the first thought that pops into your head when you wake up. The second is that it’s pretty cold, even under the fluffy covers of your bed and Shouta’s body. Minute shuffling, as not to wake him, to search for your phone is successful and the screen lights up with the time; 5:43 am. A bit earlier than usual. It seems you’re too excited about giving this to him, seeing as it’s the first handmade gift if you disregard Valentine’s day chocolates.

You have half a mind to just fall back asleep, even for the remaining 17 minutes which is lessening into 16 literally by the second, but Shouta’s groggy, confused and sleep-laden voice makes you freeze.

“…why are you awake…” Your shuffling probably woke him up. He snaps to consciousness at the smallest movements, mind on high alert and ready to go in seconds. It’s the unfortunate side-effect of being a hero. That and being incredibly busy and receiving too many injuries to count. And the confusion comes from the fact that, quite unexpectedly to everyone and yourself the most, he’s the one that’s usually waking you from slumber, usually by tickling the hell out of you. After many experiments, he decided that’s the most effective technique.

“Most people say good morning.” You whisper back, mirth underlining your comment. He chuckles at that, but chooses not to listen to it and instead decides to tug you tighter into his arms until your face presses against his chest. You can feel his laughter vibrate through his chest, sending little sparks of happiness through you.

Your laughter wakes Mr Mittens, who was fast asleep at the foot of the bed, and he comes trampling all over your tangled legs to squeeze himself into your arms, accidentally swatting Shouta in the face. He makes an annoyed noise while laughter spills out of your lips once more. The love-hate relationship the two of them have is so funny. Mr Mittens rubs his head against your chin, purring softly. It’s such a wonderful morning, surrounded by the one person and one cat you love most in the world.

And the moment breaks thanks to your horrible, hateful alarm blaring at top volume. Loud enough to frighten Mr Mittens once again and make him scamper off while you get your heartbeat back into control. Thankfully Shouta reacts quickly enough to turn it off. But the damage is already done and the mood is ruined, the prospect of going to work looming over you.

Whines and groans are your responses to his “Let’s get up”, which continues until he lifts you up and takes you to the bathroom, ignoring all your protests. Your good mood dampens just a bit. But it’s lifted again when he kisses you to cheer you up.

The rest of the morning passes easily. Since you woke up early, you don’t have to rush for breakfast or to get ready. Shouta seems to be relaxed while your brain is spinning so fast to figure out when to present your gift to him.

Giving it to him while getting ready feels off. Breakfast is even weirder. If he ever gave you a dress out of nowhere while eating, you’d be very happy and grateful but also incredibly confused. It’s just not the right timing. So time slowly ticks away until 6:50, when you both have to start heading out. And you’re still hiding the scarf in your bag. You never realised it was this hard to give a gift.

Shouta patiently waits until you’re done at the doorstep, leaning against the wall and watching you run around, trying to find your papers. All of his things were packed the night before, which he had told you to do as well. You, ignorantly, said you will later, knowing full well you absolutely won’t, and opted to become one with the bed. You finally finish collecting all your papers and join him, slipping quickly into your shoes. He links his arm with your’s, opening the door and braving the cold.

Your breath turns into little crystals immediately. Thankfully you can’t feel a lot of the cold, but Shouta most definitely can. He gives a minute shiver, shrinking further back into his scarf, which really doesn’t look like it’s doing a lot of insulation. Before you can say anything, he starts walking down the corridor and onwards to work, probably all too eager to get out of this hellish temperature.

Before you know it, you’re at the intersection you have to split with him since your schools are in the opposite direction. Shouta turns and gives you a hug as he always does, squeezing your body tightly. It’s his version of saying “Be safe and I love you”. You reply in the same way.

This is probably the best time to give him your handiwork. You say his name to get his attention, but a sneeze interrupts you. Followed by another one. Then one more.

Shouta makes an irritated noise, sniffling and retreating into his clothes like a turtle. It makes you laugh, which stops as soon as he sends a light scowl your way. You finish with a light cough and decide this is the time. The perfect time.

“Here, I think you’ll need it.” He looks at the red scarf, neatly folded up and complete with tassels which were a huge pain to make for no reasons other than aesthetics, and then at you. He doesn’t move, which prompts you to do the work for him. Gently wrapping the scarf around his neck in layers upon layers and making sure it’s comfortable, you stand back and see your masterpiece. It suits him quite well, and he’s not complaining. He’s not doing much of anything, really. “I made it for you. Do you like it?” Still no feedback. “Shouta?”

“Thank you.” It’s soft, filled with tender gratitude emotion, rolling off of him in waves and threatening to drown you. He has the most beautiful smile, the one that never fails to warm up your heart, and leans in to kiss you. But abruptly stops, thinking better of it since he might have a cold, and recovers by placing it on your forehead rather than your lips. “I love it. So much.”

Happiness blooms in your heart at his sincerity, causing your body to heat up. He kisses you once more, delighted at the appearance of your quirk. You want to stay like this forever, but reality comes back with life returning to the city. Pouting, you detach from him. Your jobs are calling the both of you.

“Love you.”

“I love you more.”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta imagine #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha imagine #boku no hero academia imagine #bnha one shot #boku no hero academia one shot #bnha #boku no hero academia #aizawa #aizawa shouta #fluff #female reader

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 27

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 27 - This Venerable One Will Cook You A Bowl of Noodles

Chu Wanning felt completely faint.

He blamed himself for being so distracted and unsuspecting on Life-Death Peak. He didn't even notice someone come over.

What was going on? Where did this child come from? His last name was Mo, but Mo. . . what was is again. . . ? Mo Shao? Mo Zhu? Mo. . . Yu?

He composed himself and put on an expression that screamed: "get away". The surprise and panic in his phoenix eyes were quickly masked by his usual harsh and threatening demeanour.

"You—"

He raised his hand out of habit to discipline him, but something suddenly caught his wrist.

Chu Wanning was stunned.

He had been around for a while yet no one had ever dared grab his wrist so casually. For a while, he was frozen in place, not knowing what he should do.

Pull it away and give him a backhanded slap?

. . . It felt like a good word to describe that would be "indecent," like he was no different from a woman in this situation.

Then pull his hand away and not slap him?

. . . Wouldn't that seem like he was being too nice?

Chu Wanning hesitated for a long time and didn't move but the young man laughed: "What's this on your hand? It's pretty good-looking, do you teach how to make stuff like this? Everyone else has introduced themselves already but you haven't spoken yet. Which elder are you? Hey, do you have a headache?"

With so many questions thrown at him, while Chu Wanning's mind hadn't hurt before, now it did.

His mind felt like it was about to split in half. . .

As he got irritated, a golden light in his hand started to glow. When they saw that Tianwen was about to be summoned, the other elders were horrified and moved - Chu Wanning was crazy, right? He would even dare to whip Young Master Mo?

Then, Mo Ran was suddenly holding his hand.

Now Mo Ran had trapped both of his hands. Mo Ran didn't up on the danger of his situation. He pulled him closer and stood in front of him. He tilted his head and said with a smile: "My name is Mo Ran. I don't know anyone here, but just from looking at you, I like you the most. How about I worship you as my shizun, okay?"

This was completely unexpected. The people around them were even more horrified. Several elders gaped with mouths ajar.

Elder Xuanji: "Huh?"

Elder Pojun: "What!"

Elder Qisha: "Oh?"

Elder Jielu: "Uh. . ."

Elder Tanlang: "Hah, ridiculous."

Elder Lucun was the most feminine of the bunch with wavy hair and eyes flooded with peach blossoms: "Ah, this little boy is so bold. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's ass."

". . . I beg you, can you not say something so repulsive?" Qisha said with disgust.

Lucun rolled his eyes gracefully and hummed: "Fine, let me put it more eloquently. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's buttocks."

Qisha: ". . ." Just kill him and forget this ever happened.

The most popular of all the elders was the gentle and jade-like elder Xuanji. His techniques were easy to learn, and he was a modest gentleman. Most of the disciples on Life-Death Peak worshipped underneath him.

Chu Wanning originally thought that this Mo Ran would've been just like all the others. If not Elder Xuanji, then it should be the energetic Elder Pojun. It never should have been his turn

But Mo Ran was standing so close to him. His face showed a kind of intimacy and affection that was unfamiliar to him. He was like some clown that was just chosen. It was all so distressing for no reason.

Chu Wanning only knew how to deal with "awe", "fear" and "disgust". Something like "affection" was too complicated.

He didn't even have to think about it. He immediately rejected Mo Ran.

The young man froze. Hidden under his slender eyelashes, there was a sense of loneliness and unwillingness in his eyes. He lowered his head, thought for a second, and unreasonably muttered: "Anyways, I still choose you."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

The Lord was watching with great interest. He piped in with a smile:, "A-Ran, do you know who he is?"

"He didn't tell me, how would I?"

"Haha, since you don't know who he is, why would you pick him?"

Mo Ran was still tugging on Chu Wanning's hands. He turned his head, smiling and said to the Lord: "Because he looks the most gentle and easiest to talk to."

In the darkness, Chu Wanning's eyes snapped open, everything appearing fuzzy.

. . . That was one hell of a scene to see.

He didn't know what the hell was wrong with Mo Ran's eyes back then to actually think that he was gentle. Not to mention that all of Life-Death Peak heard about it. They all sent affectionate greetings to Young Master Mo Ran with looks that said "look at this foolish kid".

Chu Wanning lifted his hand to the corner of his faintly throbbing forehead.

His shoulder hurt, his mind was in turmoil, his stomach was hungry, and his head was spinning.

It seemed like he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

He fumed on the bed for a while. He sat up and was about to light a stick of incense to calm his mind when suddenly there was another knock on the door.

Mo Ran was outside.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

He didn't answer. He didn't say whether to stay or leave.

But this time, the door opened by itself.

Chu Wanning looked up gloomily. The lit match in his hand hovered in mid-air but never reached the stick of incense. After a while, it went out.

Chu Wanning said: "Get out."

Mo Ran strolled in.

He was holding a steaming bowl of noodles, fresh from the pot.

This time it was a bit simpler. The noodles weren't as fancy. The rich white noodle soup was garnished with chopped green onion and white sesame seeds, small spare ribs, bok choy, and a slightly browned poached egg.

Chu Wanning was incredibly hungry but he didn't let it show on his face. He glanced at the noodles, then at Mo Ran. He turned his face away and didn't say anything.

Mo Ran put the noodles on the table, and gently said: "I asked the inn's chef to make another bowl."

Chu Wanning lowered his eyes.

Sure enough, Mo Ran didn't make this dish himself.

"Eat some." Mo Ran said. "This bowl isn't spicy, has no beef, and no bean sprouts."

After speaking, he left and closed the door for Chu Wanning on his way out.

He apologized for Chu Wanning's injury.

But he could only do so much.

In the room, Chu Wanning leaned against the window, not knowing what to think. He crossed his arms and stared at the bowl of spare rib noodles from a distance until the heat of the noodles dissipated and they grew cold.

He finally walked over and sat down. He picked up the chopsticks, stirred up the cold and soggy noodles, and slowly ate them.

The case of the Chen family's haunting had been closed.

The next day, they picked up the black horses they had boarded from inside the stables and returned to the sect the same way they had arrived.

In the streets and alleys, tea stalls and rice shops, the people of Caidie Town were all talking about the Chen family's affairs.

The not-so-small town had broken out in scandal, one large enough for the townspeople to talk about it for a whole year.

"I didn't expect that Young Master Chen had been secretly married to Miss Luo for so long. Miss Luo is so pitiful."

"If you ask me, if the Chen family hadn't gotten rich, they wouldn't be able to survive this affair. Sure enough, men can't handle their money. Once they have money, only misfortune will await them."

One man was unhappy and said: "This wasn't Young Master Chen's fault. It's his parents' fault. Mr. Chen, that son of a bitch. His children and grandchildren should only give birth to children without assholes in the future."

Another said: "The dead are pitiful but what about the living? Look at Chen Yao, Yao Qianjin. She's the one who's truly been wronged. That black-hearted mother of the Chen family deceived her. Tell me, what should she do now?"

"Just get remarried."

The man rolled his eyes and sneered: "Remarried? Are you here to get married?"

The mud-coated man who was teased bared his teeth and picked at them, grinning: "If that woman at home agrees, I'd marry her. Ms. Yao looks so beautiful, I don't mind her being a widow."

"Bah, the toad wants to eat swan meat*."

(T/N: 癩蛤蟆想吃天鵝肉 - means having unrealistic wishes or expectations)

Mo Ran sat on the back of the horse, ears perked up, listening to all the conversations in high spirits. If it weren't for Chu Wanning's closed eyes, frown, and the words "extremely noisy" essentially spelled out on his forehead, Mo Ran might have wanted to go join the villagers.

They walked together and finally left the main city, arriving at the outskirts.

Shi Mei suddenly gasped and pointed to the distance: "Shizun, look over there."

In front of the ruined Master of Ceremonies Ghost's earthen temple, there was a large group of peasants in brown clothes and shorts. They were busy moving the bricks and stones. It seemed that they were planning to repair the damaged earthen temple and remould the golden body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost.

Shi Mei said anxiously: "Shizun, the old Master of Ceremonies Ghost is gone but they've made a new one. Will this be cultivated into an immortal body again and do evil?"

Chu Wanning: "I don't know."

"Should we go and persuade them not to?"

Chu Wanning: "The custom of ghost marriages in Caidie Town has been around for several generations. How would you or I be able to persuade them in just a few words? Let's go."

As he spoke, dust flew up from the horse's hoof and he walked away.

It was already dusk when they returned to Life-Death Peak.

Chu Wanning said to the two disciples in front of the mountain gate: "You go to Danxin Hall and explain what happened. I'll go to the Court of Discipline."

Mo Ran looked puzzled: "Why would you go to the Court of Discipline?"

Shi Mei, on the other hand, looked worried: ". . ."

Chu Wanning nonchalantly said: "To receive my punishment."

Although it's said that an emperor commits the same crime as the common people, what emperor would actually have to go to jail for killing someone? The same goes for the cultivation world.

The elders who break the sect rules are as equally guilty as the disciples - in most sects, it's just empty talk.

In fact, if an elder breaks a rule, it was good enough just to write an apology letter. What fool would actually go to be punished with a willow vine or dozens of sticks?

So, after listening to Chu Wanning's explanation, Elder Jielu's complexion turned green.

"No, Elder Yuheng, did you really. . . did you really beat your client?"

Chu Wanning was indifferent: "Yes."

"You're so. . ."

Chu Wanning raised his stare and gave him a sullen look. Elder Jielu shut up.

"According to the law, for breaking this rule, the punishment is two hundred cane strikes, kneeling in Wushan Temple for seven days, and being forbidden from leaving the grounds for three months." Chu Wanning said. "I have no defence, and I voluntarily accept the punishment."

Elder Jielu: ". . ."

He looked around and hooked his fingers, and the door to the Court of Discipline closed with a clang. The surroundings fell silent, and it was only the two of them that stood opposite each other.

Chu Wanning: "What's the meaning of this?"

"Well, Elder Yuheng, it’s not that you don't understand the rules and their consequences, it's just that it shouldn't be something that you should be overly concerned with. This matter is finished. Let's forget it. If I beat you, won't the Lord be angry with me when he finds out?"

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk such nonsense with him and simply said: "I hold people accountable according to the law, and I should also be held accountable myself according to the law."

Kneeling down in front of the hall, facing the plaque of sect rules, he said:

"Punish me."

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan

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everythingsinred · 3 years

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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 6)

Last time, we talked about Natsume's growing crush on Mikan. As the festival continues, his feelings will only grow. Today we'll discuss how these new feelings will affect him, and particularly how they have the potential to create tension in his friendship with Ruka.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mikan is guilty for not having already gone to Iinchou’s haunted house in the latent ability class area. So they end up going together. Although Mikan is easily distracted and wants to try everything in the latent area, Natsume is strict on going straight to the destination with no tangents.

Iinchou lets them in right away without having to wait in the hour-long line. Mikan puts on airs about being a country girl and, just like she’s unafraid of bugs, she’s also not afraid of ghosts. Except she totally is.

Ruka and Natsume don’t seem particularly scared of the haunted house so far, but Mikan is, and she clings to Ruka, desperate not to be left behind, even if it means she hurts him with her grasp.

The person who posted these TokyoPop scans forgot a couple pages so for the longest time the beginning of the chapter was so confusing to me...

Natsume looks behind to see them and is jealous, yet again. Just like with Tsubasa, Natsume is unhappy with his fate to be the bad guy in general. He goes out of his way to look bad to protect people and as a result will not be the one clung to. It’s different from Tsubasa though, because this isn’t some nameless middle schooler that Natsume can take his anger out on: this is his best friend, somebody he’s never felt anything but affection for. Natsume doesn’t want to hurt Ruka; he’s just sad that the situation is so messed up.

Lucky for Ruka, Natsume gives up before there can even be a competition.

It’s for the best this way, after all. For Ruka to be happy, for Mikan to be with somebody kind who deserves her, and even for him, because maybe this way Mikan won’t be used against him like everybody else he cares about.

Natsume makes this decision without talking to anybody and before anyone can even figure out that there’s a choice to be made in the first place.

Then they run into a crawling hag and nobody’s immune to the terror that being chased after by that demon brings. All three of them run for it, but they end up in a new spooky room, which freaks Mikan out so much she screams and faints, foaming at the mouth, causing Natsume to fall and twist his ankle and for Ruka’s rabbit to run off. He chases after it, leaving Natsume and Mikan alone. Iinchou breaks whatever causes the electricity to run in the building and now they’re trapped alone in the dark, unable to get out.

Mikan tries to figure out a way for them to escape, but climbing the wall is out of the question since Natsume’s ankle is twisted. He suggests that he blow up the wall, but Mikan is adamantly against that idea because the latent students worked hard to make the mansion. Natsume acquiesces. That’s fine. He doesn’t mind spending more time with her. It just means she’ll have to stay in the dark for longer.

She is very clingy when she’s scared, and although he complains he doesn’t really make any moves to get her off. I mean, why would he? This is exactly what he wanted, though he did only get it because he was the only person around that she could cling to. There’s a moment where he spooks her, perhaps so she would hug him more, but then she whines for him to stop scaring her and the panels are quite sparkly. Natsume is distressed about his new crush and the effect it has on him. Really her whining and puppy-dog eyes are not any less powerful on Natsume than they are on Ruka. He’s just better at hiding it.

He looks at her softly and then has a moment where he looks almost peeved to have felt so fond at all... but it won't last. These days he has more affection for her than irritation.

Mikan tries apologizing about getting angry with him at Anna’s cafe, but he pretends like he has no idea what she’s talking about. To me, this cements that Natsume wants to look bad to her in particular. He doesn’t really want her to figure out that he’s kind deep down or that he’s selfless 99% of the time. He doesn’t want her to think he cares at all because it’s best for him to continue being the same jerk he has been for the past twenty chapters. He’s okay with her hating him, because that way she won’t become the new Ruka, used by the academy as a pawn to get him to jump through more hoops.

She tries to make him smile and that’s another big deal. Most people think Natsume is cool for being so unaffected. His fans think he’s the man, a tough guy who frowns all the time. Even Ruka’s approach to this issue was to stop smiling too.

Mikan’s approach is to tell jokes.

Of course, it doesn’t work, and the jokes aren’t any good, but Mikan is trying something nobody else has done: instead of looking up to him or going down to his level of misery, Mikan’s trying to lift him up. She wants him to smile and be happy and that sets her apart. She’s immature and childish and that brings out the childishness in him too. And like I mentioned a while ago, childishness in Natsume is a good thing. With her, he can bicker and argue and tease like he used to before he came to the academy. She has no idea what he’s going through and her mood changes so quickly she can’t even stay mad or upset. She’s just a joyful and loud girl who rubs off on everyone she meets and Natsume is far from being an exception.

He can just mess around like a kid for once. He doesn't have to be serious around her all the time.

Thus, the next important thing in regards to analyzing their relationship is that the last page of the chapter has him teasing her and then smiling at her reaction. We’ve only seen Natsume smile twice before: with Youichi for a brief moment, and then with Ruka on the cover for Chapter Sixteen (Natsume's evil smile when Mikan gets bullied by middle schoolers doesn't count as a real smile). This officially adds Mikan to the incredibly short list of people who can make Natsume smile. She’s angry with him, arguing, but being able to let go of all his darkness and just tease a girl and have her act with such strong emotions is enough to make him happy. And that’s what this is: Natsume is happy.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The musical creates some tension between Natsume and Ruka, as expected, because liking the same girl can make rifts between friends. On the other hand, this isn’t your typical love triangle. Usually in love triangles, the two guys are already positioned against each other. Though Natsume and Ruka may be opposites in many ways, they are not rivals at all. They love each other, and that love is not at all damaged by the conflict of falling for the same girl; it just becomes tense between them.

In fact, the beginning of the chapter has some Class B pals eagerly going backstage to find Ruka before the somatic ability class musical. When they find him, Natsume is the only one to not laugh at or tease him, and seems to be the only one really concerned with Ruka’s feelings about being cast as Snow White.

When the sticky ball incident occurs, there’s a lot more damage done than there is in the anime. In the anime, some cast and crew get stuck, but ultimately nobody was in any real danger of being hurt. In the manga, there were potentially catastrophic consequences for the blast and a lot of equipment got damaged in the process. A somatic child playing one of the seven dwarves is about to be hit by a stagelight when Natsume rushes to get him out of the way, resulting in them getting stuck together. If Natsume hadn’t stepped in, that kid could have gotten really injured, at least.

As a result of Natsume’s heroism, Narumi suggests that he dress up as a forest friend. When Natsume refuses, the child is to be kicked out of the play, and the seven dwarves will be changed to six. Natsume sees the kid pout and with absolutely no more need for convincing he goes to get changed into a cat outfit.

This is noteworthy because the cat outfit is humiliating (not that Natsume hasn’t worn similar things in official art… just saying) and it’s something he truly does not want to do, but he does it, even though he doesn’t even know the kid. It’s some random somatic kid, not Ruka or Youichi or even Mikan, and yet he goes out of his way to do something truly selfless so that the kid can perform what he’s practiced. Natsume is kind in quiet ways, and not just with the people he cares about. Like with Anna, Natsume puts the needs of someone he isn’t close to in front of his own reputation.

Now, Natsume is in a horrible mood, embarrassed to be seen in the costume, and Ruka is confused why he’d even bother, until he sees the smile on the little kid and everything snaps into place for him. Mikan is a very intuitive and emotional girl who can sense things about all sorts of people, but when it comes to Natsume, nobody knows him better than Ruka, who can tell right away the motives for any of his actions.

I work at a restaurant and kids Natsume's age will be like, "I don't want a kids' menu" and act all grown up and then see how big the adult portions are, so they end up eating the Cub Pancake anyway LMAO. Do you want extra whipped cream and chocolate chips, Natsume?

Onto the actual NatsuMikan portion of this analysis, at long last, Mikan is overjoyed to see how adorable he is in his costume and she is the only one who won’t hold back from saying so because she’s not scared of him. I’ve seen someone complaining that Natsume says “Don’t call men cute,” but I always found that line funny because Natsume is a literal ten-year-old boy… He is not a man at all. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect a kid to say, especially one who wants to be a grown-up as soon as possible, which makes the line endearing to me, but that’s my personal feelings about it. (Like the above caption, I find it very amusing when little kids pretend they're all grown up.)

Anyway, Natsume is as much an idiot as he is in the anime, volunteering Mikan to be the prince, even using one of his three wishes to make it happen. This is all motivated by his feelings of humiliation, and he’s taking it out on her, arguing that he doesn’t want to wear the outfit for no reason so the show has to go on no matter the cost--but this will bite him in the ass sooner rather than later.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The chapter begins and Mikan is very nervous about playing the prince, particularly about looking the part as she is very uncomfortable with her hair down.

This is actually the first time we see Natsume’s feelings about it, but he’ll only make it more clear in about ten more chapters. Here, Mikan wonders if she should put her hair back up and Natsume snaps, “No!” before walking away in a huff. It’s a small scene, and it’s even told through tiny text, but it’s enough to let any reader paying attention know that Natsume also thinks Mikan looks cute with her hair down. Yes, he’s embarrassed to have said anything, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t say it.

Don't worry about him, he's just in a bad mood.

Natsume mainly observes, and nothing noteworthy happens. He eventually goes and gives his line and his aura alone is threatening enough to discourage anyone from laughing or “aww”ing.

The next important moment is when Mikan sees the stage direction to kiss the princess directly on the lips. Narumi says it’s because he’s trying to make up for the loss of sizzle due to the accident, but knowing him, there’s probably more to it. Naru likes stirring the pot and causing drama, although I can hardly tell what his motives are half the time. Truly, I believe he is the most mysterious character in the whole story.

Natsume does not allow this to happen, so he throws something at Mikan’s head--some random box thing--and Hotaru shuts off the lights.

Natsume does something kind of selfish here. He didn’t want them to kiss, so he stopped it. The fact that he grabbed the first thing he saw meant it was a sudden choice to chuck it. I wonder if he had any intentions of just toughing it out and dealing with it, but eventually jealousy won out and he did the selfish thing.

When I say selfish, I don’t mean “bad”. I just mean that for once Natsume is acting based on what he wants, rather than what will make somebody else happy. When it comes to this kid in particular, I actually want him to do selfish things more often, because he very rarely does. He’s been selfless and heroic enough for one day, having saved a kid from getting injured and then wearing that embarrassing costume. He’s allowed to have done this one thing for selfish reasons.

It’s not like it was a bad thing to do either. It would have only benefited Narumi, and possibly the somatic class to have a spicy musical kiss, but it wouldn’t have been good for Ruka or Mikan. Having their first kiss under such conditions, especially when Mikan was just doing the class a favor by acting in the play to begin with, would have been sad. Natsume essentially saved her from the consequences of his own actions, because it would have been his fault if they’d had no choice but to go through with it.

Moreover, like I said earlier, Ruka can simply tell what Natsume’s motives are from a single look. It’s more obvious in the anime, of course, but I still think manga!Ruka is aware that Natsume intervened. He knows Natsume better than anybody, and he’s too smart to think that box came out of nowhere.

This is just the beginning of a long-standing tension between them, one that they will dance around and pretend isn’t happening for quite a while before actually addressing it properly. For now, they have undiscussed feelings and jealousies that will go unchecked and unresolved for some time, building an even deeper divide between them. After all, Natsume and Ruka have enough of a gap on account of Natsume’s missions and his general feelings of not being able to fit in with anybody. This only broadens the gap.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The dance will be very fun to analyze from Mikan’s perspective, but we’re not nearly finished with Natsume’s, so that will have to wait.

For now, we’ll discuss Natsume’s softening, which Permy points out bitterly on account of being surrounded by closet fans. Previously, she says, they were terrified of him, and why wouldn’t they be? We talked ad nauseam about Natsume’s first thirteen chapters of misery and coldness. He was a scary and unkind guy, definitely unapproachable. Even his admirers in Class B were scared of him, equal parts affection and terror. In a very short time, Natsume has softened and it’s obvious. He even dressed as a cat for the somatic musical! His reputation for being cold and dangerous is softening and the girls who used to fear him are now flocking to him to ask if he’s willing to accept their last dance proposals.

But with all this talk about romance and dancing, Mikan feels left out and can’t relate. Her frustrations only grow when some girls start gossiping about her and she ends up taking it out on Natsume, saying she would never ever wanna dance with Natsume for the last dance. He brushes this off, but he still pouts, obviously affected and a little hurt. Their relationship was on the rise, after all. They were starting to hang out more and were bickering often, something Natsume doesn’t make a habit of doing with most people. But just because Natsume is feeling more fondness for her, that doesn't mean she feels the same way.

He expects this in some way, of course, because it's partially his intention. He expects that she would only tolerate him after everything that happened with them, but that doesn't mean he likes the feeling of rejection.

They're so cute when they pout!

Having a crush is bad enough, but hearing that girl shout that she’d never wanna go out with you is even harder, even if you were maybe purposefully making her angry with you to try and protect her. It would be a tough emotion to bear, especially for a kid unversed in romance. He proceeds to be just as huffy as her.

And as twisted as it is, I’m happy for him.

Natsume was cold and mean and difficult to talk to before he fell for Mikan. Now he’s way more approachable and expressive, willing on occasion to show an emotion that isn’t rage, like hurt or grumpiness or amusement. He can now sit at his desk and pout, something he wasn’t doing before, like a kid throwing a fit.

At the actual dance, Natsume is still hurt, still pouting. It doesn’t help that Mikan glares at him upon spotting him. It’s interesting to see how much this affects him. One girl said something harsh in the heat of the moment and he is taking it so personally. Of course, he gets hurt or angered by many things. Upperclassmen bully him and call him a murderer and he simply uses his alice on them to shut them up. He keeps his face straight, moves on, and forgets it. Naturally, the hurt and resentment sit there in his gut to torment him, because he’s a kid and they’re awful things for anyone to hear, but he’s not acting like that here. Here, he’s grumpy and pouty. His feelings are hurt but they don’t come with urges to punish like being called a murderer does.

And it’s obvious he has no genuine hard feelings because Natsume then shoves Ruka onto Mikan, since Ruka was being transparent about his gaze. He goes on to dance with someone else, anyone else, because Mikan made it clear that she too would rather dance with anyone else, just as long as it wasn’t him. He’s clearly still in a bad mood, though.

He's so used to not getting what he wants that he will do all of Ruka's work for him, so that Ruka can get what he wants.

Later, when Mikan and Natsume are singletons in the middle of the dance floor, they notice each other. Here would be a perfect opportunity to dance, but she made it clear she hated the idea, and he’s not about to embarrass himself to ask. Hence, he huffs again, pouting because there’s no way he’ll ask her to dance once she’s said such harsh things. They stand in silence for just a moment, until he finds some other girl to dance with and leaves Mikan all alone.

They’re both grumpy over the way they’re being treated by the other. Natsume is being immature and petty with his feelings, almost childish (heehee it's all I want for him!). With all the dark and depressing divide between Mikan’s academy life of fun and laughs and Natsume’s life of secret missions and physical abuse, he’s somehow found a way to wedge himself into hers. He’s taking something so minor so seriously. He’s been on the front lines, used his alice to hurt enemies and been hurt by enemies and dangerous ability types alike. He is literally dying and he’s aware of it! But he’s still pouting because the girl he likes was a little mean to him.

But the dance with the girl obviously wasn’t much fun, because Mikan quickly finds him again, away from the party, along a secluded path by some trees. He’s in a pouty mood and obviously needs some time alone with his thoughts.

It shows that he’s done some thinking because he doesn’t even mention her angry words from earlier.

Instead, he just calls the whole festival stupid.

We’re reminded here of a scene from way before they liked each other, when the festival was first announced. Then, she also found him playing with a dog, all on his own, using anger to mask his feelings of hurt. He said the same thing back then, that the whole thing was stupid and it was dumb to get all worked up about it. He’s doing it again now, but it’s a little different this time. Their relationship has changed, improved. They actually care about each other now, and although Natsume starts off just talking through his anger, he eventually turns honest.

The truth is that these periods of childishness will always have to end. It’s just an extended version of the dodgeball game. No matter how much emotion he puts into these experiences, they will be overshadowed by his real life. Now matter how much fun he has, he will always have to stop smiling and go kill himself on Persona’s orders. And even more honestly, the more fun he has, the harder it will be on the people he has fun with. It’s not enough for the ESP and Persona that Natsume completes his missions and does all his work; they find pleasure and relief in his constant misery. The second he cares about something, they use it against him. His joy is never meant to last and will always have consequences for the people he loves.

I hate tumblr's 10 image limit. I hate it. I despise it. I abhor it. I cannot come up with a caption. So instead I'll say again. I hate the 10 image limit.

And so he explains, for once, that he’s simply different from everyone else. The festival is something that doesn’t belong to him. He’s merely been an observer this whole time. He’s never actually been a part of it. And then he tells her that she should stay in the light, stay out of the dark. He calls her naive, but it’s not as much an insult as it used to be.

She is childish and loud and optimistic and annoying and a little sweet and even though he hated all these things about her before, he now realizes that these traits are things to be protected. The more she mingles with him, the darker her life will be. After all, her light is not the only thing that’s contagious: his darkness rubs off on people too, and in his mind it will only hurt her to be involved with him. She should stay in the light--in the shiny, sparkly side of the manga, where everyone is concerned with sports and coming up with ideas for the festival--and keep out of the dark--where there’s murder and blackmail and danger and death. It’s bad enough he can’t keep Youichi or Ruka out of it: Youichi is already in the DA class and Ruka came running after him. He can’t distance himself from them. The most he can do is protect them and raise their star ranks or keep them off of dangerous missions. But with Mikan he has a chance to really protect her, prevent her from being used against him at all. Ideally, she’ll stay away and he won’t need to worry about her as much.

And he wants her to be safe and gone, so when she asks what he means, he changes tactics and decides to be rude and mean instead, telling her to get lost and insulting her. She gets angry and it almost seems like it’ll be another bickering match, where they will both be childish and hurl insults at each other, but he doesn’t take that path.

She is complaining about how he doesn’t seem to know that she has a name, thank you very much--and then he calls her Mikan. He concedes to her demands. He does what he perceives to be the mature, adult thing, ending the argument so she will leave for good. When she has nothing left to argue about, she will have no choice but to walk away, and she does, once he makes it clear that his last command is for her to stop complaining about what he calls her.

Natsume chooses to do the selfless thing again, and gives up the first thing in a long time that made him happy. He barely had any time with her at all, but he lets her go, because she can only continue to be sunny and cheerful away from him. He’s giving up before anyone can tell that something was around for him to give up.

He has no idea how much one word has affected her.

Conclusion

Natsume is a selfless kid. He gives up on what he wants very easily, but especially because he knows that the second he gets what he wants, those things could be destroyed, just by association with him. He just wants the people he loves to be happy, even if it means he could never be.

In the next segment, we'll talk about what Natsume is willing to do to protect Mikan, even if it means being cruel and hurting her. NatsuMikan is the living embodiment of the "break her heart to save her" trope, and I very much adore that trope with my whole heart, so we're going to be having a LOT of fun with the next essay!

Also, disclaimer: I'm not smart. I refuse to take responsibility for any mistakes I make in these essays. There also are no mistakes. I've never misspelled a word in my life.

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honesthammie · 3 years

Text

Thought I'd start doing some prompts, im gonna do them all eventually but I'd thought I'd share some I've seen or thought of on my own with other writers that may need inspiration.

Look in the tabs for fandoms and characters i will do, hopefully.

1)"Look, I'm glad you've saved everyone and all that, but it's time someone told you to take care of you."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not, and furthermore, if you don't take care of you, think of all the people who need you in the future who won't have you!"

2) Reader accidently get sent to Hell instead of Heaven. The King of Hell tells you to make yourself at home while he sorts it out with God. Little did you realise how much you liked it there

3)"On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-“

"At least a twenty."

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

5) "What do you see when you look at me?"

6) Everyone is born with 2 tattoos that has a symbol on each wrist. One for their soulmate and another for their biggest enemy. The reader only has 1.

7)"Why are you still here?"

"Because I care about you, you asshole."

8)"Your hair is so soft.."

9) "It's too cold! Come back!"

10) "No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

11) "C'mere, you can sit in my lap until i'm done working."

12)"I'm not going to stop poking you until you

give me some attention."

13) "Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

14) "What? does that feel good?"

15)"Just pretend to be my date."

16)"He/She did it." "No he/she did."

17) "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

18)“No no-it's alright, come here."

19)"I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise."

20) Everyone has a guardian angel. Except the reader. Something went wrong in system and now you're stuck with a guardian Demon. Fortunately, they seem more effective at helping you succeed.

21)"I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

22)"I am way too sober for this."

23)"If I go through with this, I die. If I don't go through with this, we all die."

24)"Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Treating me like a person."

25)"What the heck is that?!"

"My cat."

"Cats don't have eight legs!"

26)"Hey, I didn't kill anyone today!"

"What do you want? A gold star?"

27)His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones.

28)"Why do people keep trying to put this blanket on me?"

"Because you're in shock."

"That doesn't mean I need a blanket. It means I need booze."

29)"I can't believe you haven't killed each other yet."

"We shared a room together in (enter what type of school here). If we could survive that, we could survive anything."

30)"Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture"

31)"How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?"

32)"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Seriously? I have worse nightmares about failing my exams"

33)"What is that THING in your backpack?"

"It's my new pet dragon."

"Dragons aren't real!"

"Then why is there one in my backpack?"

34)"I had a thought."

"Oh no."

"I swear it's a good one this time!"

35)"Are you there?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally is debatable."

36)"Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?"

"I don't know, I probably both."

37)“Are you SURE I can't punch him in the face?"

"Yes."

"What if I just break his nose a little?"

38)"It's a long story."

"You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time."

39)"Death wants you to be terrified, but the scariest thing is wanting death."

40)"What's our exit strategy?"

"Our what?"

"Oh my god, we're all I going to die."

41)"How's the meeting?"

"I want to stab everyone."

"Don't get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven."

"Love you for enabling me."

"Love you too."

42)"What can I do to make you feel beautiful as as you look to me?"

43)"Once hope becomes a symbol, you cannot kill it. Give it a name, and it will never truly die. You have to dismantle it and let the world watch on as it crumbles in on itself."

44)"Don't you have a country to run?"

"My favorite person is in the hospital, the people can wait."

"I don't think it works like that."

"I rule over them, so it does."

45)"Are you really still a princess if your kingdom is in ruins? If there is no one left to rule over but corpses?"

46) Reader stealing lovers clothes

47)"How did you do that?"

"Maybe if you spent less time rambling you'd have figured it out"

48)"You-you are-"

"Beautiful, a genius, immensely talented"

"Dangerous."

49)"And if the world thinks it can keep us apart, then it hasn't been paying attention because there is nothing, nothing! wouldn't do just to I stay by your side."

50)Take apart every word I've ever said, strip me of every action I've ever taken. Then know, for certain, that mean it when I tell you I love you."

51)"Do you trust her?"

"No. but I ... trust her anger."

52)"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

53)"Where's your shoe?"

"The giant mud puddle demanded a sacrifice"

54)"People can do can worse things than kill you."

55)"Give my regards to the Devil."

"I will."

"And remind him that he still owes me fifty bucks for helping him out that one time."

56)"Hate to break it to you, but we're both someone else's science experiment."

57)"Timing is key"

"Says the one thats always late"

58)"Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge."

"Can I pick?"

59)"This? These tears? They are not a weakness. They show how strong you are and how strong you've been. And when you're done, look back and know that you were strong enough to overcome what you once thought to be impossible."

60)"Act natural."

"For this kind of situation, the most natural thing would be to panic, so technically I can panic."

"NO, that's not what I meant! Act like it's a normal day!"

"My 'normal' days of late, consist of a lot of panic."

"Will you just cooperate?"

"When a person is panicking, they are not apt to cooperate very well!"

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writer-ish · 3 years

Note

I love your fics so much! The Mason ones are utterly amazing 🤩

As for my ask: the touching prompts and Mason can you do 37+50?

prompt: putting their head on the other’s chest / putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 1.5k | rating: T (language) author note: you are so sweet. ☺️ thank you sm and thanks for the prompt love! hope you enjoy.

☾☾ touching prompts

It wasn't that the meetings were boring, per se.

Consolidation after a patrol was a necessity in Grace's eyes. It wasn’t like they all walked through the same streets and alleys together, arms linked, the five of them patrolling in tandem. Nate usually went one way, Adam another. Felix would decide who he wanted to join or if he felt like taking his own route.

And that would leave her and Mason.

She tried, once, to tell him that she didn't need him to patrol with her. They'd cover more ground separately, of course. That much seemed obvious. And before Unit Bravo had arrived, she had been made detective of their small town's police force, which had to count for something—had to speak to some level of ability; of skill.

But the absolutely withering look he gave her upon that suggestion shut down any further discussion on the matter.

Plus, and here was the real problem, the crux of the issue—the truth was, if she were being honest with herself... she liked having him on patrol with her.

It felt like a betrayal of her sex to admit that she felt—safer with him around. But for all her capabilities (admittedly most of which were intellectual and not so much physical or combat-oriented), the idea of having someone to patrol with, a protector, was—

Well, it was nice.

Of course she would never, ever admit that out loud. She could barely admit it in the sanctity of her thoughts.

But ever since life had changed for her in Wayhaven, and supernatural occurrences had become the norm, and her life had been put in danger (more than once), it seemed, at the very least, prudent of her to have the extra support wherever available.

And anyway, they were partners. If not in anything else, they were partners for the Agency. And the patrol - they did that together.

Which brought Grace back to the present moment.

The meeting.

Every time the unit patrolled, they would meet together briefly afterwards to discuss anything unusual they had seen, offer up any suggestions for future patrols, or coordinate routes or sites that may be more fruitful or beneficial in the future. There was always a plan, an ultimate goal, and each member of Unit Bravo, including their human liaison, wanted to ensure that their patrols were as efficient as possible.

Which was all well and good, fantastic really, except for one small thing.

Grace was fucking exhausted.

Months of working for the Agency, of patrolling with UB and then waking up a few hours later and doing her other job, her “real” job, for a seemingly endless amount of time, only to come home and cat nap and then do it all over again—it was taking its toll.

The vampires were fine, because of course they were; they were fucking vampires. Sleep was a suggestion. A novelty. A lark.

But Grace was tired.

At this particular post-patrol gathering, she had tried exceptionally hard to focus. Adam said they were going to keep it short, but it had already been twenty minutes and he was still going over a detour in his route that he felt would be beneficial.

Mason sat beside her on the arm of the chair she was sitting in, a high-backed, extra plush thing, that was somehow incredibly conducive to sleep and also horribly uncomfortable.

He was flicking his lighter open and closed as he listened and she lightly tapped his thigh with the back of her hand to get him to stop, feeling her eyelids grow heavier with each passing second.

He looked down at her and took a second to absorb her expression, before looking over sharply at Adam and barking:

“Hey, how about we wrap this shit up—?”

His words were unceremoniously cut off by Grace’s hand over his mouth.

She felt the sharp intake of breath he took as he glanced at her in surprise, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring.

Sheepishly she took her hand off his mouth and said softly, “No, I’m fine.” She then turned to Adam, who looked puzzled, and glanced briefly at Nate who seemed concerned and Felix, who was clearly amused. “It’s fine, Adam, continue please.”

Adam looked at her assessingly, before giving a brief nod and continuing. “As I was saying, if we veer northwest here and go around the park...”

Grace settled back in the chair and looked up to catch Mason still staring at her, narrow and intent.

What? she mouthed.

He pointed at her and then closed his eyes and lolled his head to the side, an exaggerated tableau of sleep.

She bit her lip to keep from giggling and shook her head, re-focusing on Adam.

Within seconds, her focus was cut short once more as she felt Mason drop down from the arm of the chair and wriggle in the seat beside her. They barely fit side by side, so she had to make room for his leg under hers as he squirmed his way closer to her.

Felix was watching them now, giddy with his amusement. Nate kept glancing over and looking away quickly. Adam was tracing a line on the map of Wayhaven in their common room and hadn’t seen the mute commotion just yet.

Soon, Grace was situated, essentially on Mason’s lap much to her chagrin, her head tucked into the admittedly very comfortable nook where his pectorals met his deltoids. He brought his hand up to toy with her hair lightly and he was so warm, so comfortable—just an unbearably pleasant extension of that safety and familiarity she felt with him when they were patrolling together.

She could feel his heart beat, a steady gentle thud under her ear. Could smell him, his unscented laundry detergent, and something else—something masculine and sweet, earthy and smoky and just intrinsically him—that scent that had already infiltrated her pillow and her top sheet and her favourite jacket—

That feeling, imbued with his scent, and with the gentle pressure of his hand that had moved from her hair down to her thigh, was like a sedative for her soul.

Of their own volition, drawn by a power she could no more easily control than she could the setting of the sun or the moon rising, her eyelids drooped down, down, down until her eyelashes brushed her cheeks.

Within seconds, her breathing evened out and soft snores filled the room.

Adam paused and turned away from the map to take in the new and unusual noise.

Mason watched with hooded eyes, daring him to make a comment. To say a word about their position or - he felt his canines tingle, a rumble deep in his throat - to try and wake her.

Instead, Adam looked resigned. Regretful, almost.

“She is tired,” he said simply as he regarded her.

Felix and Nate looked over as well, various iterations of affection and sympathy over their faces.

“We forget, sometimes,” he continued, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest, “that she is a human among us. She does not have the stamina we do.”

“She works hard,” Mason couldn’t help but say, deliberately keeping his voice soft. “She works herself to the bone for this town. These ingrates,” he ended on a semi-snarl. “And then does it all again at night for the Agency.”

“She enjoys her work,” Nate responded pragmatically. “Though she could probably benefit from more rest time.”

“There is too much going on right now for rest.” Adam stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Though, I suppose, it’s alright if she rests for the moment.”

“Plus, I wouldn’t move her from Mason’s lap right now unless you want your head torn from your body,” Felix cackled, leaning back gleefully in his chair.

Mason shot him a stare that could wither a cactus and Felix bit his lip, still hiding a smile.

“Do you want to continue, Adam?” Nate asked. “Or should we call it a night?”

Adam looked thoughtful. “As long as she is comfortable, let’s finish up. Mason can fill her in later.”

“Oh, I’ll be happy to fill her—shh, shh shut up!” he cut his own vulgarity off with a hiss as Nate loudly groaned and Felix’s cackles unleashed themselves further. He glared at everyone. “I’ll tell her what you said,” he muttered finally, nodding towards Adam. “Let’s just get this over with.”

As Adam droned on, Mason couldn’t help but look down at the detective, her soft snores and steady heartbeat a familiar litany to his ears these days. He felt the soft firmness of her thigh under his splayed fingers. Felt the rush of air on his chest as she breathed in and out. Watched her rosy lips pout in sleep, the crescent of her dark eyelashes on a lightly freckled cheek, a light brown strand of hair flopping over one closed eye.

Her hand had come up to rest under her chin, fingers loosely curled. Absently, he brushed the hair back from her forehead and then, again without giving much thought to it, he brought his pointer finger up to stroke the soft inside of her palm gently. Her fingers jerked reflexively and closed, holding him there securely.

He felt a tug come from somewhere deep in his chest at the sight of her holding his finger like that. It felt so trusting, so innocent, this simple unconscious gesture. As though, even in sleep she wanted to keep him close.

Shaking his head abruptly to rid himself of the intrusive and unexpected thought, he renewed his focus on Adam—no, Nate, who was now talking.

He left his hand in hers, though.

tags: @utterlyinevitable , @ethansramsey , @otherworldlypresents , @aworldoffandoms , @raleighcarrera , @ejunkiet , @starrystarrytrouble , @terrm9 , @openheartthot , @octobereighth , @campsearchlight , @coldshrugs , @kelseaaa , @homeformyheart , @intothestrawberryjar , @magebastard , @kodysteach , @newfangledsoul , @silma-words , @lalizah , @detective-sweetheart , @lem-20 (if you don’t want to be tagged for twc, mason x detective, and/or prompts, please let me know!)

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc fanfic #mason x detective #mason x grace #twc mason #agent m #specialist agent m #writing prompts #twc prompts

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ofendlesswonder · 3 years

Note

Congratulations on the impending release! That's so exciting. Also so excited to see you're taking prompts - 27, if you're so inspired!

27. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Cat thinks she’s dreaming, when she sees a cape flutter outside her balcony.

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she’d dreamt of red and blue and a sunny smile. Probably wouldn’t even be the hundredth, if she counts her daydreams, the one allowance she’d made, for when the itch under her skin, the desire to reach out and touch had almost become too much to bear.

Had become too much to bear, in the end. Had sent her fleeing across the country to another coast entirely, separating herself from any temptations, from blue, blue eyes and the traitorous voice in the back of her head wondering would it really be so bad, if you told her?

Yes, she’d always answered. Yes, because I can’t ruin her, too.

Not like she had every other relationship she’s ever had. Couldn’t bear to see the light in her eyes dim, for her to become bitter and jaded, and look at Cat like she despised her.

That’s something she knew she’d never be able to handle, no matter how many times Kara had pressed close beside her on the couch, staying long after her work hours had ended. No matter how often she’d looked at Cat like she held the world in her hands, her gaze had lingering when Cat had dared to undo an extra button, knowing she was playing a dangerous game.

The cape flutters again, propelling Cat out of bed, feet sinking into the plush carpet of her bedroom. Her new home isn’t quite as nice as the penthouse she’d left behind in National City, but it’s a decent replacement, she thinks. Carter had taken some convincing, but she knows D.C. has grown on him.

“Aren’t you a little far from home?” She asks the superhero slouched over her balcony railing, pushing open the doors with the palm of her hand.

Kara doesn’t move, and Cat thinks something must be deeply wrong. Why else would she be here, after so long? Why else, after years of silence stretched thin, would she have come to her?

“What’s wrong?” She asks, a silence of a different kind pressing into her ears. This high, the city traffic is quiet, the low hum of the people milling on the sidewalks below snatched away by the wind.

Cat grabs her robe off the back of the chair by the door, steps into stupidly fuzzy slippers Carter had bought her last Christmas. The ones she will never, ever publicly admit to owning, but that she adores slipping on at the end of a long day, and joins Kara on the balcony.

She doesn’t move, remains still and silent, and Cat wonders if she’s finally gone mad. If something in her has cracked, and she’s conjured an image of Kara, a ghostly mirage that will disappear as soon as she’s within arms’ reach.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, when Cat steps close, in a voice suggesting the opposite is true. “Not really.”

“And yet here you are, on my balcony in the middle of the night, for...what? An interview? A catch up? How long has it been, Kara? Four years?”

She doesn’t react to her name, and Cat thinks that might be the most worrying thing of all. A secret she’d guarded so closely, so fiercely, terrified of Cat finding out the truth, and now she doesn’t care? Doesn’t acknowledge it, even?

No, this isn’t the Kara she knows.

But then, it’s been years since Cat last touched her life.

Years, for her to grow and change.

Years, where Cat didn’t know her at all, aside from brief glimpses of news footage, from the articles she’d read, written by Kara’s hand.

The woman standing before her may as well be a stranger.

One she has no idea how to help.

“You were always...like a port in a storm. A safe space to land, a voice of reason when I needed it. You were never afraid of telling me the truth, even if it was painful to hear, and you always knew exactly the right thing to say. And I think I need that, now, because I...I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

She doesn’t look at Cat when she talks, her jaw clenched tight, her fingers wrapped around the bar of Cat’s balcony railing, leaving indents in the metal.

It’s then Cat notices the blood. It’s caked under her nails, smeared across her knuckles, and Cat’s gaze darts over her body, searching for other signs of damage.

Maybe it’s not hers.

Maybe that’s why, when she turns to face Cat, her eyes are dark and haunted, so lost within herself Cat struggles to find a trace of the woman she once knew so well staring back at her.

“Feel what way?” Cat asks, and her voice is hoarse, because, different though she may be, it’s still Kara looking at her for the first time in years, and Cat had known it was naive, moving away to run from her ever-growing feelings, known it was unlikely to work, but it’s only now, four years down the line and feeling like not a single day has passed, that she realises just how naive.

Can Kara hear the uptick in her heartbeat, as their eyes meet? Has she heard it before? Does she have any idea, how a single glance from her can knock Cat breathless?

“Like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.” Her eyes close, and Cat lets her gaze settle on her face, how though she is physically unchanged—something about those Kryptonian genes, she suspects—she looks so much older.

Weary.

Defeated.

“I can’t...I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to. The world needs a hero, but that isn’t me.” She shakes her head so violently she lurches to the side, and Cat steadies her—futile though the gesture may be—with a hand on her elbow, her suit rough beneath her fingertips. “I’m not a leader. I’m not...I’m not cut out for this.”

Cat casts her mind back, tries to remember any mention of Supergirl in the news, recently, that might make her feel this way. Smear campaigns against superheroes are nothing new—Cat could almost understand it, because who was going to stop them if they decided this whole being good thing just wasn’t for them?

But not Kara. Never Kara—red Kryptonite aside.

“They deserve better than me.” She sags when she says it, falling into Cat so suddenly she barely manages to catch her, face pressed into the side of Cat’s neck, and her tears hot on her skin.

“You are the strongest person I know,” Cat says, cheek pressing against Kara’s head, a hand settling at the small of her back, nothing but certainty in her voice, in her gentle grip. “The strongest person I’ve ever met, in fact—and let me tell you, Kara, I have met a lot of people. None of them could hold a candle to you.”

She sobs harder, and Cat breaks, because what is it that’s brought this beautiful, selfless woman to her knees?

“There is no one better than you,” she continues, because she thinks these are words Kara desperately needs to hear. “But you’re right about one thing—they don’t deserve you. And no one is entitled to you. What you do, Kara, putting yourself on the line, day after day, forfeiting your rights to a normal life, risking losing it all every time you charge into battle—that’s incredible. But it’s not sustainable. You keep doing it, and sooner or later, something’s going to break.”

If she’s being honest with herself, Cat is surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Just goes to show, then, how strong she really is.

“You’ve endured so much. So much pain, so much loss.” The likes of which Cat can’t possibly comprehend, the likes of which she will never even fully know. “It’s okay to have days where you can barely even drag yourself out of the bed in the morning. Hell, I feel like that at least once a month, and I don’t have to cope with anything like you do.” Cat doesn’t know what she’d do, if their situations were reversed. Doesn’t know if she’d be able to cope. “Kara, what...what happened?”

Something triggered this. Something to send Kara flying a thousand miles across the country, to seek out the embrace of a woman she hasn’t spoken to in years. The why, Cat thinks she understands, now. Certainly, there have been a dozen other conversations on a balcony just like this one, though the view had been a little different. And Kara had been different, too, buoyed with the feeling of something new and exciting, invincibility in its most naive form, drawing strength from Cat’s imparted wisdom, which she’d never been truly qualified to give.

She definitely doesn’t feel qualified to deal with this, with Kara breaking in her arms. Doesn’t know what to say to make her feel better, not without all of the pieces of the story.

“There was a fight,” she says, and she doesn’t lift her head, the words muffled against the silk of Cat’s robe. “Nothing special. No really. But he...he was strong, and he tossed a car at me, and I...I pushed it off. Didn’t look where, until...until I heard a scream.”

Kara shifts, leans away, like she thinks Cat is about to be repulsed by her, swipes at damp cheeks with a bloodied sleeve.

“I didn’t notice her.” Kara’s bottom lip wobbles, and Cat has never seen someone look so broken. “I didn’t know she was there, but she...it crushed her.” She clenches her jaw, clenches her fists, like she can change the story by sheer force of will alone. “She’s six years old, and she’ll never walk away.”

“Kara…”

“Don’t,” she says, so viciously Cat flinches. “If you’re about to tell me it’s not my fault, don’t. Because it is. I did that to her, not him.”

“You can’t save them all.”

“She wasn’t even in any danger though, was she?” Kara’s laugh is bitter, and not one Cat has ever heard come from her lips before. “That’s the irony of it. If I’d never been there, she’d have been fine.”

“But someone else might not have been.”

Kara scoffs, takes a step back, and for one horrifying moment, Cat thinks she’s going to launch over the balcony and flee, leave her standing out here with an ache in her heart.

“No one ever talks about the collateral damage,” she says, eyes focused on the horizon. “How many people’s lives have been ruined, because of me? How many buildings destroyed, how many people in hospital?”

“And how many people would be dead, if you’d never started using your powers, hm?” Cat has her counterattack ready, can’t let Kara keep going down this rabbit hole. “Thousands, I’d wager. Or the whole world, perhaps. You stopped Myriad, you stopped an alien invasion. And they’re just the ones I know about.” She steps closer, wraps her fingers around Kara’s wrist, squeezes hard so she feels it. “You will carry this in your heart for a long time, Kara, there’s no way around that. It will hurt, and it will ache, and it will make you not want to carry on, but it doesn’t erase all of the good you’ve done. All the lives you’ve touched, the people you’ve saved.”

“How can you look at me like that, knowing I’m a monster?”

“You are so many things, Kara, but monster isn’t one of them. You’ve made a mistake—a grave one—but it was an accident, and you give up because of it. What you do, is you put on the suit, and you grit your teeth, and you vow to do better next time. You carry on. You persevere.”

“How?” She asks, and her voice breaks over the word, over the plea, and Cat clenches her jaw so she doesn’t cry, because she knows that is the opposite of what Kara needs right now.

She came here because she needs someone to be strong for her, because she needs someone to tell her it’s going to be okay—and mean it.

“Only you can come up with the answer to that,” Cat says, and she wraps her fingers a little tighter around Kara’s wrist. “But I think a good start is, perhaps, a shower. Wash away the bad.” Wash away the blood, staining Kara’s skin. “Come inside.”

Kara digs in her heels. “I-I don’t...you don’t have to do that. I should go.”

“I don’t want you going anywhere like this.” Not on her own, not where there’s no one to keep an eye on her. “Please, Kara. Let me help you. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Why you came here?”

She nods, jerky and quick, and lets Cat pull her into her bedroom, all the fight seeping out of her.

“Wait here.” She leaves her hovering by the end of Cat’s bed, arms wrapped around her torso, and steps into her en-suite.

She turns on the shower, sets it to scalding, and waits until the room is full of steam, until the ends of her hair begins to curl.

When she returns to her bedroom and finds Kara stripped from her suit, she nearly has a heart attack.

“I didn’t want to wear it anymore,” she says, and she’s shivering but Cat doesn’t think it’s from the cold.

“I’ll find you something clean to wear.” Something not stained with dirt and regret. She digs out an old, worn Harvard T-shirt and some shorts, passes them over to Kara and politely averts her gaze as she does so before prodding her toward the bathroom. “Take as much time as you need.”

She folds the suit while she waits, puts it carefully on the chair by the balcony door along with her boots. When it starts buzzing, she jumps, worried she’s inadvertently pressed a button she shouldn’t have. Has she activated a GPS tracker? Self-destruct? Were a team of shady government agents on their way to her apartment to cart her off to a black site?

Thank God Carter is spending the night at his friends house. She has no idea how she’d explain any of this to him.

The buzzing doesn’t stop, so she ventures closer, finds a pocket and a phone with nearly thirty missed calls, and a dozen more texts.

Alex is a name she recognises, but Nia and Brainy are not. Another reminder things have changed, she thinks, setting the phone down on her vanity for when Kara re-emerges. Clearly, she hasn’t told anyone where she is.

“Thank you,” Kara says, when she opens the bathroom door, a cloud of steam enveloping her. On Cat, the shirt is baggy, but it clings to Kara, highlighting the muscle and strength hidden beneath her lithe frame, and Cat chastises herself for staring.

Not what she needs right now.

If Cat had ever had her doubts about Supergirl’s identity, if Kara had tried to argue when Cat had named her earlier, it would have soon come crashing down. Because now, standing in borrowed clothes, damp hair curling around her shoulders, hunched in on herself, the woman staring back at her was entirely Kara Danvers.

Cat can’t believe she’d ever doubted it.

“Kara, does anyone know you’re here?” She asks, makes sure her voice is gentle, and not condescending. The last thing she needs is her feeling attacked.

“Like they’d understand,” she says, voice soft, and that’s true, Cat thinks, because she finds it hard to understand herself. “I don’t want them to.”

“At least let someone know you’re safe? Your sister, perhaps? It’s either that, or toss your phone out of the window.” As if on cue, it begins to vibrate again. “She’s calling for the hundredth time.”

Kara sighs, but takes the call, resignation on her face as she lifts it to her ear. “Alex. I’m fine.”

A lie, Cat knows from one look at her face. She wonders if her sister can tell, too.

“I just needed some space,” Kara says then, and Cat wonders where her sister might think she is. “I’m somewhere safe.” She casts a glance toward Cat, whose heart thuds at the thought that Kara thinks of her as a safe space. Somewhere to land, when she feels like her whole world is falling apart.

Cat wonders when she’d earned the honor.

“I don’t know. Tomorrow, probably. I don’t want to fucking debrief, Alex.” It explodes out of her, so sudden it takes Cat by surprise, her back ramrod straight and her fingers holding the phone so tight it’s a wonder the plastic doesn’t crack. “You saw what happened. Don’t make me relive it.”

Cat crosses the room without thinking, pressing a hand to the small of Kara’s back. The effect is instantaneous, body relaxing beneath Cat’s fingertips, tension leaching out of her with every breath.

This close, Cat can hear Alex’s voice on the other end of the line, tight with worry. “Come home, Kara.”

“Not yet,” she says, her voice shaky. “I...I can’t yet.” She hangs up before Alex can argue, and Cat pretends not to notice her turn the phone off before tossing it onto the chair with her suit. She’d done what Cat asked—and she doesn’t think she wants the sister knowing her apartment is the place Kara chose to land.

Somehow, she doesn’t think that’ll go over well.

“You can stay here tonight, if you want.” Even if she felt about Kara the way she was supposed to—appropriately, for a woman double her age, and a former boss to boot—she wouldn’t have been able to turf her out when she looks so dejected. “You can stay as long as you want, even. If you want a place to hide away from the rest of the world, consider this your sanctuary.”

“Beside the Queen of all Media.”

“There’s a moniker I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“Do you have a new one? Or is it just Press Secretary, now?”

“Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?” If this is what Kara needs, idle small talk in the middle of Cat’s bedroom at a stupid hour in the morning, well.

Cat has never been able to deny her.

“It suits you, though.”

“And reporter suits you, Pulitzer Prize winner.” The flush that stains Kara’s cheeks is expected, but it makes Cat chuckle all the same. “You’ve been doing good work. I knew you had it in you.”

“You always saw the best in me.”

“You say that like it’s difficult to.” Seeing the best in Kara is one of the easiest things Cat has ever done. She’d seen something special in her that first fateful meeting—she’d just no idea how special. How this meek, bespectacled woman with the hideous fashion sense would tip her life on its head. “You should get some rest,” she says, when Kara yawns. “You’ve had a...difficult day.” Something of an understatement. “You can stay in here.”

Kara shakes her head. “I’m not kicking you out of bed, Cat.”

“You’re not—I’m offering it to you.”

“I can take the guest room.”

“There is no guest room.” Cat’s smile is wry when Kara frowns. “Not like I get a lot of visitors. It was three bedrooms, but I turned the third into an office.”

“The couch, then.”

Cat stops her with a hand on her arm when she makes for the door. “Stay here, Kara. It’s fine.”

“Will you...will you stay with me, then?” She asks, in a voice so small Cat feels like her heart is being squeezed in a vice.

“I…” Is there a polite way to say no? To say I can’t think of a more terrible, masochistic idea than that without breaking the poor girl’s spirit?

“Please? I...I don’t want to be alone.” It’s the sheen of tears in her eyes that does it, the wobble of her lip, the desperation in her voice, and Cat tells herself that it’s not specifically her that Kara wants. It’s the comfort, it’s the presence of another warm body, to ward off the chill of loneliness.

And yet, it was her that Kara had sought out.

And that has to mean something, even if it’s not what she so desperately wants to be.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” she says, knowing the memory of Kara wrapped up in her sheets will linger long after they’ve been washed, but knowing, also, that it’s worth it, for the way her face lights up when Cat pulls back the covers and climbs inside.

She has to be up in four hours, she thinks, wincing when she glances at the clock.

Worth it, she thinks, as Kara slips in beside her. Worth it, when she turns to Cat in the dark, and presses into her side, face in the crook of her neck, and tears once again damp on her skin.

Cat holds her, and she doesn’t sleep a wink, even when Kara’s breathing deepens, hot against her skin, fingers twitching where they’re gripping at Cat’s robe, still wrapped around her shoulders.

Cat holds her, and thinks they might not talk about it tomorrow—Kara might, perhaps, wake up mortified in her former boss’ bed, the light of morning bringing with it a sense of clarity that maybe the decision to come here was wrong. Kara might, perhaps, flee without saying goodbye, and Cat may never see her again.

And Cat would accept that decision without question, because for her, this is enough.Stitching the broken parts of Kara back together, being here for her, offering her the comfort she so desperately needed, means more to her than anything else ever could.

#directrix-zelda #thank you 😊#once again...this was supposed to be short #i wrote this entire thing at work today no one tell my boss #supercat #supercat:fanfic

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cybernaght · 3 years

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Guardian rewatch: Episode 3

First of all, wow. When I decided to post those online, I was expecting that they would be read by two people, both of whom I personally know. It was in equal part surprising and terrifying that so many of you ventured here. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it.

Episode 3 is probably my favourite case. It’s not perfectly strung together, there is little actual investigative work in it, but it’s a beautiful story of boundless love and devotion, which echoes through the relationship between our protagonists

Professor Shen is looking at some materials that are looking suspiciously like research into something supernatural, when Zhang Ruonan makes an appearance at his office, claiming that she is absolutely fine, while clearly being very far away from fine. This is something Shen Wei can certainly relate to, because he is the king of hiding his ailments from others.

Zhu Hong’s one-sided affection for Zhao Yunlan starts to show already in this episode: while he has the cold, she nags him to take care of himself, shoves tissues into his hands, and presses him to drink his meds. It’s easy to imagine even this early on that she will be the woman drunk dialling him one day.

I know this could be seen as straightbaiting, but I honestly thing that the actual purpose it serves in the show is the opposite; I’ll talk more about it when we get there.

Zhao Yunlan spends a lot of this episode in Shen Wei’s office, starting with this scene, in which is obviously flexing. Not only does he sneeze all over the office, he goes to eat Shen Wei’s cake after specifically being told not to eat it. He also takes his opportunity to mix questioning with flirting, as is his usual way. He keeps eye contact while spooning cake into his mouth, as he explains, jovially, that another mysterious death on his campus cannot possibly be a coincidence. And, to be fair, he is not really wrong. We are meant to believe that this is all set in motion by Zhu Jiu, aka the least scary villain in the history of villainy, and an owner of your staple baby goth wig. I will not mention him again until the plot makes it impossible for me not to do so.

Zhang Ruonan comes in, and Zhao Yunlan introduces himself as Shen Wei’s good friend. Which is half-way between a flex and an act of kindness. On one hand, he could have said he was from the police - which would be absolutely true - and risk tarnishing the professor’s good name. On the other hand, he could probably look less pleased with himself. Shen Wei, at the very least, looks neither grateful, nor amused.

Zhao Yunlan asks her if she new the victim and she looks incredibly shifty as she flees. He is right to think that something is up, and he correctly assumes trauma, rather than guilt. We can now start to see that he is very very good at reading people. It must be equal parts thrilling and disconcerting for him to have met something who he decisively cannot read. Shen Wei vouches for the woman, partly, surely, because his Hei Pao Shi sense is tingling, letting him know that someone is eavesdropping.

Despite feeling uneasy, Shen Wei still offers Guo Changcheng, who is left to collect various paperwork from his desk, a little smile. He has a reason to like Xiao Guo, of course: he was the one to see the young man’s kindness and understanding, and he is already growing protective of him, way before he will start seeing members of the special unit as his people. This reminds me of how many months later, he will subtly, but decisively stop a barrage of verbal abuse against Xiao Guo by dropping a pair of chopsticks.

Zhao Yunlan is taking Xiao Guo with him on the case rather than anyone else, partly, supposedly, because of Guo Changcheng’s familial connections. The young man looks more sure of himself, asking correct questions, dutifully records answers. He also tries to look after his Chief by asking him to go home and rest. He does phrase it badly, but Zhao Yunlan has a thing against his own health and well-being, so he reacts extra poorly.

Soon after, Zhao Yunlan’s at Shen Wei’s office yet again, as Shen Wei tries his best to ignore him, in the hope that he… well, maybe not goes away, but does not ask him anything that will require him lying. Instead, Zhao Yunlan is asking Shen Wei why he is bad at reading people, which is a very strange thing to ask. Shen Wei answers his question with a question, “Will seeing through people really lessen the hurt and disappointment?” Adding, “Many tragedies were destined from the beginning”. He looks well.. like this as he says it.

This is loaded. On first glance, it’s a pretty good set-up to the way this story will unfold, as a tragedy of two individuals who let their devotion to each other nearly ruin each other’s life. A fragile human and a dangerous powered Undergroundian: what else is that, but a tragedy, waiting to happen? But this story - this one right in front of us - will not end tragically, at least not for the two people it enters around. It could do so, but it will not. Maybe, this truly is the first hint that this entire narrative, so carefully set up from the very first time Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei meet, is destined to be a tragedy. Moreover, that it must be one, for some cosmic reason.

(… I apologise while I go have a little cry in the corner. Damn you, Guardian, why do you make me hurt so much?)

Da Qing inexplicably morphs from black cat to a human in white t-shirt while doing night shadowing, and promptly falls asleep on patrol. Why is he being sent to stake anyone out? He is least suitable for it. He is literally a cat. He sleeps 16 hours a day.

Surprisingly, when pressed, Zhang Ruonan comes clean very easily, revealing that she was a victim of the three students she failed (two of which are already dead and one one standing right next to them), who lured her out at night, which left her vulnerable to be attacked. Zhao Yunlan listens to this story, and instead of… oh I don’t know, perhaps asking her the identity of the third student, leaves to go find that out for himself. It is heavily implied that he does it on purpose, which is definitely not okay.

Moreover, he goes and... asks Shen Wei. This makes me suspect that he’s not really thinking with his head at this point. As he does so, he is brandishing a letter opener.

Shen Wei is looking even less impressed with him than he did during their last few conversations.

Zhao Yunlan is a little bit flippant when it comes to students’ lives this episode. And yes, they have done something really quite horrible to another human being, but that's not a very good excuse to let the last of them just die. As it happens, the situation Yunlan created - perhaps on purpose - did lure out Zhao Ruonan’s murder girlfriend, but it also cost a student his life. Which is far from ideal, but is somehow never even mentioned. Instead of being aghast, he sits on the table as he goes into full interrogation mode. (As he will continue to do a lot. Sometimes he crouches on tables instead. There is no further point here, apart from: I like this character quirk. It’s a nice character quirk.)

He brings some of his team in at this point, and asks Zhu Hong to continue interrogation. It would be a nice gesture is he did not interject two questions in.

“How do you regard your relationship with Wang Yike?”

“We are family.”

They are definitely, decisively not going for sisterly bond here. Which is kind of incredible. This is one of the moments the amorphous being that show is looks at the censors, wiggles its battered low budget eyebrows at them, and then proceeds to flip them off. Well done, Guardian.

Wang Yike calls Zhang Ruonan, saying there is one more victim she needs to take care of, and Lin Jing traces the call back to campus. Zhao Yunlan, who did not even bat an eyelid at a dead student earlier, now looks decisively worried

“Oh no. Professor Shen.”

The only reason Shen Wei is attacked is jealousy. Wang Yike does not know this of course, but trying to kill him is a bad move, because a) he has long ago given his heart away, and is definitely not interested; b) this is probably the only thing she could do to make the man on the case very very upset; c) Shen Wei’s immune to her powers.

“Someone like you will never understand what she means to me!” Wang Yike shouts eventually. “As long as I can protect her, my life has worth!” And, even as Wang Yike has no way of knowing it, these are the words that ultimately save both her and her loved one. Because Shen Wei does in fact understand what Zhang Ruonan means to her. His own endless and ultimately self-destructive devotion is his main driving force.

Shen Wei pretends to be hurt, again, which earns him a half-hug from the object of his devotion. If Zhao Yunlan does notice that Shen Wei should really come out of this attack grey haired and dead, and not just mildly inconvenienced, he chooses not to say anything.

Worried about her murder girlfriend, Zhang Ruonan rushes in and accidentally touches her. Zhao Yunlan Freaks The Hell Out. Shen Wei does, too, but in his own, reserved, way. They are both emotionally invested in those two people, although for very different reasons: Shen Wei is acutely feeling resonance of his own past in their story, and Zhao Yunlan, I think, wants to fix it, he wants to be able to make it better. Instead, Shen Wei fixes it for him, turning the tide on this tragedy, and giving it a happy ending. He heals Zhang Ruonan right in front of the officers of SID, albeit with much subtlety. (“Have someone saved her right under our noses?” Zhu Hong will snort the very same evening, and she will be 100% correct.)

Shen Wei also lets Wang Yike go despite the undeniable fact that she did kill three people. Here, he is looking at the picture of this human/Undergroundian couple, surviving despite all odds, and touches his only reminder that Kunlun really was in his life.

He then burns the picture as the only evidence that Wang Yike was not punished by him for her crimes.

In the end, Guo Chengcheng is making first of his many diary notes about the events, recounting a conversation between Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan we had not witnessed, in which Shen Wei mentioned a relationship based on devotion that can last a thousand years, and Zhao Yunlan called such a relationship “guarding”. Finally, Guo Changcheng hopes that he can become a guardian of all.

And this is making me think that this absolutely should be a set-up for him becoming a wick of the guardian lantern, as per every single other decision that was made prior to the last two episodes. Right? This is a perfect foreshadowing, and mentioning it here, so early in the show would not make any sense if it were a deliberate subversion. So, was Guo Changcheng meant to become the wick after all before... what, some rewrites happened? What made the final episode be what it was in the end?

(This is a genuine question by that way, if anyone has any insight on the matter.)

The episode would end here, if this was a western show, with a familiar monster of the week structure, but it does not. At least, the way it ends is reminiscent of a cliffhanger, with Zhao Yunlan catching Shen Wei in a middle of a crime scene, and looking betrayed.

Next episode: Lynchian Nightmare, aka people without faces.

PS.

I did not have a seamless way to stick this in anywhere but... Shen Wei’s technological ineptness at the max: he does not know how to use a Polaroid camera. Help him, he is so lost.

——

Second point of housekeeping to say a few things:

I don’t think I will be consistent with certain things being transliterated versus translated. I am more likely to use Hei Pao Shi rather than Black Cloak Envoy (because the later reminds me of Tuxedo Mask, which makes me inwardly giggle every time) but at the same time I am also more likely to use Underground/Undergroundian rather than Dixing/Dixingren. I am more likely to use Xiao rather than Little, but have called Chu Old rather than Lao before. I hope that’s not grating, but do tell me if it is

My recaps are Shen Wei-heavy. I have no real explanation for this, apart from.. I like Shen Wei.

I realise that there will definitely be things here that are head canon and speculation rather than flat observations; this show is a work of fiction and a work of art, which cannot be interpreted objectively. If you have alternate takes on anything I write in the future, let me know!

#guardian #shen wei #zhan yunlan #recap #rewatch #I still don't know how to tag

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devilfic · 4 years

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❝bodyguard services❞

plot: you’re paying him to escort you safely to your mother’s grave, but he’s just hoping you’ll actually make it there in one piece. pairing: cloud strife x gn!reader. cw: fluff, grieving, minor character death mention, cloud is a man of many skills, therapy being one of them for some reason. words: 2.3k.

“If you don’t slow down, the hedgehog pies will get to you before I do.”

“Maybe if you didn’t carry around such a big sword, you’d be able to keep up!”

It probably wasn’t in your best interest to sass the man who would be single-handedly keeping you alive for your trip, but you’d already put in your down payment for his services before you’d left Sector 5. If he wanted to leave you here, he’d have to refund you. Maybe. You actually weren’t too sure if he had a refund policy. You probably should’ve checked on that before- “Watch out!”

The hiss of Cloud’s voice and the actual hiss of his buster sword bring you out of your reverie as a wererat is sliced cleanly through right before your very eyes, its insides coating the muddy toes of your boots and sending you reeling back with disgust. Cloud’s shoulders aren’t heaving from exertion – no, a wererat was like a spec of dirt to him – but rather from the speed he’d had to pick up in order to get to you in time. Otherwise, that thing would have clawed your face off and then some. You feel incredibly embarrassed as Cloud glares over his shoulder at you, “This big sword just saved you from getting lobotomized with a rat claw.”

You mutter a timid “thank you” and decide that yeah, you probably should stick closer to him, and so you fall into quiet step beside the ex-SOLDIER. You only knew that he was a friend of Aerith’s, a girl you’d frequently crossed paths with since childhood, and of his past working for Shinra. He was offering merc jobs for a pretty affordable price, willing to bend to any possible requests (within reason), and you’d chewed on the idea night and day until the anniversary of your mother’s death arrived.

Your mom passed when you were only 14, naturally and peacefully. Since you were younger, you were always accompanied by the sweet people in town to go visit her grave on her birthday and the anniversary of her death, but after a few years of it, you’d moved away in hopes of starting a new life somewhere that didn’t constantly remind you of her. By the time you’d come back, not two years after leaving, the paths there just grew more and more dangerous and it became a death sentence to travel through at all on your own. Of course, those who were strong enough made it through just fine, but you… well.

You didn’t want to burden anyone, anyway. It was for the best.

The only reason Aerith hadn’t accompanied you both was because she had some errands of her own to carry out today. She was usually the one who’d protect you if anything were to come out of the blue on your way to the graveyard, but with her out of the picture and most people in similar situations, you were short on time and luck. You’d only settled on paying Cloud to bring you when he’d been walking in town with Aerith, finishing up whatever odd jobs he’d taken on. You’d seen him chasing after cats yesterday, and then after the orphanage kids the day before, and perhaps that was the only reason you’d mustered up the courage to even approach him in the first place.

Cloud had given you a simple price and no pity when you’d told him you required an escort to her grave, only requesting that you stick beside him for the entirety of the trip. He said he’d do whatever you asked once the money was in his hands. The “no pity” part was exceptionally nice.

“How long are you staying in town for?” You decide to ask, barely a minute passing since he’d cut down your would-be attacker.

“Depends.” He deadpans. You would have thought he was still annoyed with you if it wasn’t for the fact that he talked to everyone like that. Well… he probably was still annoyed with you.

All that you can hear is the crunching of the dirt underneath your shoes and distant wails of monsters you feared to encounter alone. The walk was going to be long, but you didn’t exactly have a shopping cart of conversation starters under your belt for someone who looked like they were perpetually elsewhere all the time. He looked perfectly fine just walking in silence. You would’ve been too, maybe, if it was any other day. “Aerith seems pretty smitten with you. It’s really cute. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”

Cloud scoffs, and whether it’s from disbelief or irritation, you can’t tell, “It’s not like that.”

“You sure?” You gently prod. You have to admit that you like the way his skin burns under your duress.

“Incredibly. I’m her… bodyguard, nothing more.”

“Not even a friend?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me where to go?”

You jump at the realization that you’ve just been walking aimlessly, but you knew these paths like the back of your hand. You’re both back on track in a couple of minutes. You haven’t forgotten your choice of conversation topic, though. “Are you single then?” Cloud grumbles something that feels like a “yes, leave me alone”, and so a smile begins to come to your face. “There’s no way! With a face like yours, surely you’ve got admirers down the block every time you land somewhere. Even a frown like that couldn’t turn ‘em away.”

“I’m not interested in stuff like that right now.” Cloud presses, giving you a look that tells you he won’t be swayed. He allows you the privilege to look into his eyes a few seconds longer than necessary, and by the time he’s looked away, you've imagined a drink made out of the colors in them. You wonder if he’d be pissed if you named it after him.

You let the silence hang just long enough for you to gather the ingredients in your head together, wonder if Aerith could point you in the direction of some flowers that could match the particular shade of chocobo blond his hair had going on, when you come across another enemy. This time, it’s a rather spirited gorger. This one gives you pause. Cloud is before you in an instant, sword raised in front of him as the ugly thing’s mouth gapes at you both. Then, with breakneck speed, it lunges at Cloud.

He doesn’t defeat this one as fast as the wererat and for good reason: gorgers were big and disgusting things that, if given the chance, would latch onto you like a leech and suck the very life out of you in seconds. Cloud has to be very careful. As he’s dealing significant damage to the thing, you notice the calculated precision in which Cloud fights. He’s equal parts defense and offense, striking at just the right times for particularly intense blows. He’s moving in and out but always taking care not to get too close to you.

When he finally finishes it off, you have to ask, “Is this cathartic for you?”

Cloud frowns. He seems to be thinking something that he doesn’t let reach his eyes. “It’s what I’m good at.”

“You look so concentrated,” you hum, recalling the stillness of his expression in battle, “like the end result does something for you.”

“Yeah, it keeps me alive. Come on.” He steps over the grotesque gorger’s corpse to signal for you to get back on your journey.

“I mean, I get that, but it’s like it does something else for you.”

“I told you it’s what I’m good at.”

But is it the only thing?

You keep thinking on your observation as the graveyard begins to come into your line of sight. There’s a big, metal door there that you remember going in and out of plenty of times before. Walking forward, you lead him through, cautiously looking around. You’d seen your fair share of venomantises around and if gorgers made your heart beat fast, venomantises stopped it altogether. Literally.

Cloud keeps pressed to your side, sword raised and eyes darting around to every nook and cranny of the place. When it seems like the coast is clear, you begin to approach the graves. You find her stone as always, but are hurt to find that in your absence, weeds and things had begun to grow over her headstone. You gently pull away the brush until you can clearly see her name engraved on the stone, as well as little carvings of your own name around it from when you were younger. You kneel before it and feel Cloud behind you, looming, watching for any signs of danger. For a moment, it’s like he’s not even there.

It’s… cold.

After some time passes of you mainly saying your greetings and mentioning how long it’d been since you’d last seen her, you look over at Cloud who seems to have settled down. He’s reattached his sword to his back and stands, facing away from you, with his arms crossed along his chest. You really would hate to bother him, but…

“Cloud?” You ask. You just barely notice the way he stiffens. Glancing over at you, he peeks at the stone you’re sat in front of before looking back at you. “Would you mind sitting with me? Since the coast is clear?”

You can see the want to protest. It’s written in his eyes down to the growing frown on his lips. Then, as if he’d somehow been broken down by the pleas in your gaze, he drops down next to you and plunges his sword into the dirt (far away from the actual graves, thankfully).

Something about the warmth he gave off calms you down. You feel a bit awkward talking to your mother alone as most of the people who tagged along would talk with you. Having Cloud’s presence was nice, but you were starting to feel he might feel awkward being here. After all, you’d commanded him to keep you safe, and yet you were also asking him to sit with you like… like a...

“How… long has it been?” You’re shocked out of your thoughts by the sudden question. Cloud isn’t looking at you but rather at the open space, eyes flitting this way and that at every sound.

“Seven years, I think. Her birthday is coming up in the winter.” You reply quickly, “I remember the day but the years sort of slip out of reach.”

A hum, “Right. I get that.”

You weren’t totally convinced he did, or maybe it was that whatever he said he understood seemed to be eons away from the little world you'd found yourself in, but it wasn’t your place to pry. You imagined there were a lot of things SOLDIERs went through to get in their position, so you could only wonder what it took for one to defect. You instead pick at stray pieces of grass, twirling them between your fingers. “She used to work at the same bar I do now. Sometimes, Aerith’s mom would drop her off there and we’d play in the corner until she came back to get her. My mom would make us mini drinks. Ones that looked like the ones on the menu but, you know, no alcohol.” You chuckle, “We couldn’t tell the difference, though. What we thought got us drunk was just a sugar high.”

Cloud snorts. You take that as a sign to keep going.

“I used to live up in Sector 8 for a while after I turned 18. It was kinda hard to get by but I made it work. I came back when I heard… packed up and started life here again.”

“Did you like it there?”

You ponder on your answer, “Sometimes… sometimes. Aerith would always visit. I think I liked it more because I felt like I was getting somewhere good if I lived there, you know? The truth is that nothing had actually changed. There were just more people and more bills to pay.”

“Aerith mentioned your bartending skills were wasted up there,” Cloud recalls, “Did your mom teach you a lot just from watching?”

“Mostly everything!” You giggle.

Cloud says nothing about that, though you do notice that his lips look much less frowny now. He fiddles with the baggy fabric of his cargo pants, listening to the spring wind rush through. “Reminds me of a friend. In Sector 7. She bartends… among other things.”

You perk up at the new information, scooting a little closer to the mercenary, “Really? I’d love to meet her someday! Maybe we can have a competition: whoever gets Cloud wasted the fastest wins!”

“That sounds like an ongoing competition.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll span days.”

“Not interested.”

“Well, will you at least let me make a drink for you before you leave? You’ll have to alert me in advance so I can whip up something special. I’ve got an idea for something already.”

The mercenary looks over his shoulder at you, eyebrows drawn in to closely study you. Whatever he was thinking, he seemed particularly confused by it. Surely, he’d be used to an overabundance of friendliness at this point if he was friends- or, er, a bodyguard to Aerith. He couldn’t be puzzled by you being nice to him, could he?

“Why do you care? You met me two hours ago.” Huh. He could be after all.

You offer him a shrug, smiling kindly, “You look like you could use one, is all. And as a thank you for putting up with me, I think it would be a perfect trade.”

Cloud huffs.

Thankful for the change in atmosphere, you (and Cloud) leave your mother with some parting words before heading back to the slums, much safer and friendlier than how you had arrived.

He’s not leaving yet and he insists so under your constant prodding, but you find Cloud in your bar a few days later asking for your very special parting gift in advance.

You set down the fruity glass of swirling blue and green, topped off with a small yellow flower specifically picked by Aerith herself; she mentioned that it had something to do with reuniting, “It’s called “The Merc”,” you grin, watching his cheeks roar aflame in bashfulness, “sweet but with a powerful kick.”

“And the flower?” He groans, plucking it off the top and holding it in between you both.

You pluck it from your fingers and set the short stem into the confines of his hair, watching, gratified, when the color blends in as perfectly as Aerith said it would. “It means you’ve got to come back and see me sometime after you leave. I know you’re Aerith’s bodyguard, but I’ll be in need of your services in the future too.”

“I’ll come back in the winter, how’s that?”

You hope he will. You really would like that.

#cloud strife x reader #cloud strife imagines #cloud strife scenarios #cloud strife fanfic #cloud strife fluff #cloud strife #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii remake #ffvii imagines #ffvii scenarios #final fantasy imagines #final fantasy scenarios #mjwrites

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chibinekochan · 3 years

Text

Angel in Hell Season 2 part 6

part 1 | 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

Gen. reader insert.

Words 2k

Taglist:

@gothjuulpod ; @purgatoryhall ; @sibit360 ; @a-personnamed-ace ; @romy350-romyakari

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

On your long walk back you don't talk at all but it's still very comforting.

Finally, you reach the dorm. You can see Luke running towards you.

"What has Lucifer done to you?" Luke seems pretty worked up.

"He just said some things that were unnecessary." Simeon doesn't want Luke to know the whole story.

Luke sighs. "I was very worried."

"I'm sorry Luke. Let's have some tea and cake. I'm starving." You aren't particularly hungry but you know this will get Luke off your back.

"You should eat some proper food." Simeon sighs.

"Come on, I'm having a hard time. Just indulge me a little." This type of banter feels very nice.

“Alright, but only this once.” Simeon smiles gently.

“I think you both don't take this seriously.” Luke pouts.

“I might just like your baking too much.” You shrug and tousle Luke’s hair.

Luke pouts. “H-hey, I'm not a child.”

You giggle and Simeon chuckles a bit. This feels so nice, it would be great if everyday could be like this.”I know Luke.”

Luke doesn't complain anymore, since he is also glad to see you smile.

You eat cake for lunch today and then try to not think too much about Simeon's confession. This is pretty much impossible.

Honestly, you want to talk about it with someone. In situations like this, it would be natural to talk to someone to get your thoughts in order.

Right now that seems impossible.

There also seem to be more important matters than romance.

So you just check your messages. You have been flooded with several comments about what went down in the castle.

Lucifer took all the blame.

You just announce that you are safe and more or less okay.

This seems to help to calm them down at least.

You can also see that Satan has been banned from using the chatroom but is very regretful.

You chat a bit about food with Beel and assure Mammon that you don't hate him.

He feels very bad that he let you go with Satan.

After this, the rest of the day passes in a blur.

Your head has a hard time shutting down. There isn't much that keeps you distracted so you just watch some devil tube.

The day finally ends after watching too many cat videos.

The night isn't easy for you but being with the other angels helps. Even when it's a bit embarrassing to be so close to Simeon right now.

The morning is pleasantly uneventful but if you are being honest it's a bit boring.

You just find yourself thinking about pointless things.

Then you decide it's enough.

"Luke are you free to bake today? I thought I'd ask Barbatos if I could use the castle kitchen and the ingredients they have. I will pay them back of course." You are done with just sitting around and feel like doing something. Also, your list of people who deserve a nice treat is long.

"Sounds good to me. Would that be okay Simeon?" Luke is worried about your safety.

"It's a great idea. I need to talk to Michael anyway. The castle is the safest place for you right now." Simeon was thinking about what to do while he has to go to the celestial realm. This seems to be the best idea.

"From all the demons here Barbatos seems to be the least bad one." Luke agrees with this idea.

"I'm so glad to see that you are such great friends with Barbatos," Simeon smirks at Luke.

Luke huffs.

"Could you call Barbatos and ask if we can come over?" You don't want to inconvenience Barbatos.

"Sure, leave it to me!" Luke is motivated, he is glad to be able to do something for you.

You watch him with a smile and then you turn to Simeon.

He looks at you with a gentle gaze, something that you are used to but today it makes you feel a bit different.

"Make sure that you don't get hurt while baking," Simeon recalls the one time you accidentally burned yourself.

"I will be careful, but will you be okay?" You worry about his safety.

"I will be fine." He looks grateful.

"Do you have any requests?" You want to make something nice for Simeon.

He thinks for a moment. "I'm fine with whatever, as long as you made it for me."

This is so typical of Simeon. You can only shake your head.

Then you pump yourself up. "Just watch out. I will knock your socks off."

Simeon chuckles. "I'm looking forward to that." His eyes linger on your eyes. Your cheeks lightly flush.

Luke narrows his eyes. "Something has changed between you didn't it?"

Simeon simply pats Luke's head.

You feel pretty embarrassed for a moment since even Luke noticed the change in your dynamic.

Luke frowns a little but moves on rather quickly. "Barbatos has agreed to us coming over. He seems to look forward to it."

"That's great, so let's go." You feel a boost of motivation. Helped by Simeon's smile.

"I hope you two have a great time." Simeon looks at both of you but he seems to linger just a moment longer on you.

"We will." Luke looks at you, you can only agree.

Together with Luke, you head to the castle.

While Simeon engages in a very difficult conversation with Michael.

Barbatos is already waiting for you. He has prepared everything you need.

"I want to thank you in person for letting us use the kitchen. I will fully pay you back as soon as possible." You politely bow to Barbatos.

"There is no need for that. Lord Diavolo said and I quote 'to go wild and give him some treats'. I assume he feels bad for causing trouble to you yesterday." Barbatos smiles calmly.

"That is incredibly nice of him. Especially since it wasn't his fault at all." You think it's very thoughtful.

"I'm glad you see it that way. So what treats are we baking today? Oh, and I have prepared a selection of aprons for you to pick from." Barbatos looks rather existed about the prospect of baking sweets.

"The better question is what treats we aren't baking. I mean I have a long list of people that I owe and Beel alone will probably need a whole basket to satisfy his hunger.

"You don't need to indulge all of these demons too much." Luke sighs.

"I think it's very kind of you." Barbatos looks impresst at least.

"So let's get started. First, we should make a load of black bat cookies and then some angel creme cupcakes. These probably take the longest." You are pretty excited just thinking about it.

"I will prepare dough for the angel puffs." Luke knows everyone loves these.

"That sounds very great. I can help with the bat cookies but you will have to show me the other two recipes." Barbatos seems to practically glow.

It was a great idea to bake.

Everything goes rather smoothly. The first loads are all delicious. You had to try at least one of each treat.

"I need to serve my lord his tea. I will give him his share if that is alright with you. Do you wish to join us?" Barbatos has already a great selection of tea prepared. This was the most exciting part for him.

"I would rather finish the sweet devil roll if you don't mind." You worry that it will fall apart.

"I'm staying too." Luke is busy making some other cookies.

"Do as you please. I will leave you some tea." Barbatos doesn't seem to mind and walks off.

You shove the roll in the oven. Watching it carefully.

"What are you planning to make for Simeon?" Luke asks while mixing his dough.

"Hmm, good question. There are so many sweets he likes. Maybe some vanilla and chocolate angel cookies." You remember the first time you made them. They came out slightly burned and somehow raw at the same time. Despite this Simeon ate them and complimented them. It's a nice memory.

"That sounds great. Did you know that humans choose heart-shaped confectionery to show someone that they like them?" Luke just nonchalantly drops this but surprised you look at Luke.

"What are you trying to say?" You feel a bit embarrassed.

"I'm not stupid you know. I have seen how you look at each other. So I'm just trying to help you two." Luke looks away, a bit awkwardly.

"That is very nice of you. Did Mc tell you about that?" There is no way Luke would just know something like this.

You face the oven.

Luke just realizes that he might hurt you by mentioning it. "Y-yeah but you know what despite what these stupid demons say. You aren't the same at all."

You know Luke didn't mean anything by mentioning heart shapes. Now you are curious. "I can't ask any of the brothers but what were they like?" You carefully peek at Luke. He thinks about it for a bit. "A pretty wild one. Always just getting dragged into some strange hijinks, mostly caused by the brothers. They just went along with it, like it wasn't a big deal. They were always fixing some kind of spell gone wrong or some drama caused by the brothers. There was always something going on. They were also very careless in my opinion. Just going headfirst into danger. Somehow they always managed to succeed. Well at least until the day they died. It was so unexpected. Mc survived so many things that would kill ordinary people. Yet a single moment was enough to end their life. I wasn't there that day but it was very tragic. Everyone was so sad, I admit that I cried too." Luke smiles at some of the memories but ends with a sad expression.

"That somehow sounds all very impressive. I don't think I could ever be like that." You look at your roll again and sigh.

"I don't think anyone could be like that and you honestly shouldn't be just like them or anyone else for that matter. You are great. I have never met anyone as caring or strong as you are. To me, you are a great friend and I like you." Luke has a determined expression. Like he wants to make sure that you know his words are true.

It's touching."Thank you, Luke. I think I needed to hear that." You smile at him and Luke blushes just a little.

Then your timer rings and you take the finished sweet devil roll out of the oven.

It looks great. You put it to the side and then start to make the vanilla and chocolate angel cookies.

Luke bakes a batch of other cookies in the meantime.

By the time Barbatos returns you have finished the cookies and made a special plate full of heart-shaped cookies, just for Simeon.

Barbatos notes the unusual shape, apparently, he also knows about its meaning. "I see you have made some very special cookies. Who is the lucky one?" He has a slight gleam on his face.

You suddenly become very shy. "T-that is private."

Barbatos hums. "I hope that it will work out for you. Oh, I have this nice cloth bag here. You should wrap the cookies so they will be an even nicer present." Barbatos rummages through a box and hands you a cute bag.

You are just glad that he doesn't probe you and take the bag.

Then you feel Luke tugging on you. "I got this ribbon. You should use that too."

"That is sweet of you Luke and thank you Barbatos." You smile at both of them, wrap the cookies and carefully place them in your pocket.

By the time you are done, it's already evening.

You baked loads and most will be delivered.

You just have a few of the goods you want to bring to Solomon. Partly to thank him for helping you and you also want to see what he is up to.

Luke is still enjoying his conversation with Barbatos.

With a slight spring in your step, you make your way to the library.

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

Luke just wants his 'dad' to be happy and fully ships them. I support this.

Little bonus:

Barbatos spreading the 'love cookie' gossip later to Diavolo.

Barbatos: "My lord, our angel student has made some special heart-shaped cookies."

Diavolo: "What splendid news. Who do you think they are for?"

Barbatos: "Well, I have some suspects."

Diavolo: "Really? How scandalous. Should I tell Lucifer about this?"

Barbatos: "I would advise against that."

Diavolo: "In that case, I will just root for them."

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me angel au #angel in hell #obey me shall we date #omswd #sorry im a bit late tzoday

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

Text

Downton’s Easy Company - Chapter 16

A Band of Brothers x Downton Abbey Crossover

Summary: The new generation of Downton is taking over, but just as the second world war is raging across Europe. On a cool London night, the children of the Crawleys meet the boys of the American 101st Airborne. Worlds collide and hearts are on the line.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @purplelavalamp, @johnny-martin-is-mypeanut, @the-disassembled-boy, @tvserie-s-world, @50svibes, @cherriesx, @incognito-princess, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant, @claire-bear-1218, @goingmyway, @marv-llous, @foalystechcrew, @mother-dearest-loves-me, @dench1992, @neverendingstories00, @greenmonkeyfish, @grumpablebutloveable, @lilaxdream @iilovemusic12us If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: I hope you enjoy this update! There’s a lot of letters, but I figured they were the best way to show the time passing while they’re separated, so I hope that comes across to everyone :)

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

READ THIS FIC ON AO3

Chapter 16 here we go!!!

Dear George,

I’m so relieved you’re back in England. Let us know when you have some leave so we can prepare for you here at home. We miss you a great deal.

Katrine seems sweet enough, though she is rather private. Her boy has made himself quite comfortable, especially with Mama and Papa. We offered to hire a nanny, but Katrine wouldn’t hear of it. It seems an odd way to raise a child to me, but I suppose it comes from her own upbringing.

You’re right about the boy being bright. Papa and I have taken initiative and are looking into some schools close by. He’s too young to enroll just yet, but we had a tutor evaluate him, and the report was quite promising.

I do wish you’d tell me how you came by these two. I know you said they helped you when you were trapped in Holland, but I’d like the full story. Perhaps when you come home next, you and I can have a long discussion about it, and the possibilities for the Mondeels here in Yorkshire.

On an unrelated note, have you heard anything from Caroline? We haven’t seen her since before Christmas, and she has not been answering my letters. Have we done something to upset her? If you have any information, do share.

I hope you’re well, my darling.

Love,

Mother.

***

Dear Ron,

I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you after all those weeks of silence. I’m also glad you’re out of danger (mostly) and can correspond again. I’ve missed you, as weak as it sounds to admit it.

Baby and I are doing just fine. I am starting to show more now. So much so that I’m finally making use of the maternity clothes Victoria brought me. I’ve had them tailored so that they’re more modern - not that fashion matters much in times like this - but it does make me feel better.

I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t been in touch with my family. Just Marigold, Sybbie, Victoria, and George. There isn’t much to tell them except the one thing I know I can’t tell them. As I told you, it doesn’t feel like the sort of thing you put in a letter. Do you think I should grit my teeth and bear it? Or can I put it off a little longer? I’m really beginning to miss my mother, whose presence would be much appreciated by her frightened daughter.

I must make another admission. I am scared of this. Of the birth, yes, but mostly what comes after. We are going to be responsible for a life. It’s completely overwhelming. Not that I want to bog you down, you’ve got plenty to worry about where you are, but do you ever think of such things? How do you feel about a nanny? I had one growing up, but I understand you likely did not. Was it helpful to you? There’s so much to consider.

I’m also trying to come up with names. I like plenty of boy’s names, but I am starting to wonder if we should have a girl name picked out as well, just in case. I really do think it’s a boy, but one can never be too prepared.

Here are the names I like so far:

Robert (after my grandfather)

Phillip

Theodore (Ted for short)

Wesley

Charles

Let me know your opinion on these. Keep in mind, his middle name should be Ronald, after you, as is tradition. Do you do that in America?

If you’ve got any girl names, send them along. I really do think we should decide on one of each.

Be careful, love.

Your Caroline

***

Caroline,

Glad everything’s alright. I’m doing fine. I’d tell you more details, but they’d be redacted anyway, so what’s the point?

You tell your family only when you’re ready. Don’t worry about them. Focus on staying healthy. That’s the only priority right now. If you really need your mom, reach out. She might not like it, but she is still your mother.

Nobody’s ever really ready for parenthood. Just remember that we are adults and it’s a baby. It doesn’t know how to do anything. We can handle this.

I did not have a nanny, but depending on how the war goes, you might need the help. Let’s play that one by ear. Don’t overthink it.

Girls' names are irrelevant, we’re not having a girl.

As for the names you’ve chosen, here are my thoughts.

Robert is a no go. That’s Colonel Sink’s name and I don’t want to give him a big head.

Phillip is a possibility.

No to Theodore/Ted. Much too old sounding.

Wesley can stay in the running.

I don’t like Charles.

Now, for your consideration, here are names that I like:

James

Thomas

Leo

Haven’t been able to think of much more. But let me know what you think.

Ron

***

Ron,

You are truly a stubborn arse. All the more shame on me for falling for you, I suppose.

In spite of all that, I thank you for your reassurance. I will wait some more before telling my family. Marigold and Victoria are doing a very good job of caring for me.

If you refuse to acknowledge the possibility of a girl, I will simply choose a name myself and you will just have to live with it. I like Violet, after my great-grandmother.

As for the boy names you picked out, I have to say no to Thomas. My uncle is Tom Branson, and then we have our butler Thomas Barrow, and I should hate for our child’s name to be confused with those two. I don’t mean that in a bad way, they’re two of my favorite people, but to have three Tom/Thomas’s in my heart would only get confusing.

The other two names I very much like. So our list is now down to:

Phillip

Wesley

James

Leo

(and Violet)

We can narrow it down further at a later date. I’m afraid I have to cut this letter short as I have a doctor’s appointment.

Stay safe, love.

Your Caroline

Speirs wrinkled his nose at the latest letter. It may have also been because of the dank smell of Haguenau, but he preferred to blame Caroline. Truly, he was fond of the final list of names. He stared at the last one that she scratched out and turned it over in his mind.

“Violet?” he murmured.

“Sir?” questioned Lipton from his spot on the couch.

Speirs looked at the sergeant. “What do you think of the name Violet?”

Lipton’s brow furrowed. Before he could answer, he coughed, a small rattle still in his chest, though he was doing much better than before.

“Violet?” he asked. “For what, like a cat?”

“No, like a baby,” Speirs said.

He still had not told any of his men about Caroline’s pregnancy. He considered telling Lipton now, just to have someone around he could consult on these matters, but thought better of it. Enough people knew as it was and Caroline was not around to give her permission.

“Ah, I see,” Lip replied. “I think it’s sweet. Traditional, but not overdone.”

Speirs was surprised that Lip did not challenge a baby name inquiry at a time like this. That was Lip, though. All support, no questions asked. Speirs took a deep breath.

“What do you think of Phillip?”

***

Dear Joe,

I hope I haven’t offended you somehow. It’s been weeks with no word from you. And the girls have received letters from others in your company, so I can’t help feeling like it’s personal. If something has changed between us, I hope you will share that with me. Just give me some clarity, please.

Love,

Victoria

Joe sighed, struggling to put the letter into his pocket with the truck rocking through the countryside. Eventually, he tucked it away and buttoned his pocket over it. Webster watched Joe with keen interest. Especially since Joe’s face looked so pained as he read.

“Everything alright?” Webster asked.

“What’s it to you?” Joe returned.

Webster shrugged. “Alright, I’ll mind my business.”

He returned to his journal. Joe chewed his cheek and glowered out at the scenery.

“It’s Victoria,” he admitted.

He needed to talk to someone about it. Why not Web?

Webster looked up curiously. “What about her?”

“I think I gotta break up with her,” Joe said. “We’re just...too different.”

“Is that so bad?” Webster wondered. “Maybe you can balance each other out.”

“Nah, I think we want different things,” Joe insisted. “I love the girl, but I can’t ask her to give up everything for me, y’know?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the situation,” Webster said. “But I understand what you’re saying. Either way you go, one of you will be making a huge sacrifice. What you have to decide is if it’s worth it.”

Joe heaved another sigh. “I don’t know…”

“I think you have your answer then,” Webster said.

With that, he started writing again and left Joe to his thoughts. Joe considered that. He wasn’t totally sure about Victoria. If he was, shouldn’t he be willing to sacrifice? But he thought of her sweet smile and the tenderness of her heart, and he felt weak. He was lucky Victoria wanted to be with him, wanted to compromise with him. He had to think about it some more. He needed to decide what he really wanted out of life. But what were the possibilities? They were heading into Germany, but the war was not over yet.

***

Dear Dick,

Paris is settling down and beginning to feel like the place I left years ago. It’s been fun to take Victoria and Caroline around. Caroline is getting bigger every day it seems, but she’s very healthy. Incredibly, I felt the child kick, and I daresay it made me rather emotional. I feel my cousin is hardly out of her own childhood, and now she is bringing new life into the world.

It reminds me of my own mother. I wish I could confide this in Caroline, but I feel it isn’t really my story to tell. I’m a key player in it, of course, but obviously my mother’s privacy comes first. Thank you again for your own discretion.

Seeing Caroline become a mother has also put thoughts of my own future into perspective. After everything I’ve been through, I want very much to live simply. Because of my parentage, I can never really belong in the world my family exists in. I don’t think it’s what I want anyway. I just want a peaceful, quiet place to raise a family and perhaps write a novel. How do you picture your life after the war? I don’t believe we’ve discussed it before. I do hope I am somewhere in your imaginings. You are certainly in mine.

You are also in my thoughts and prayers. Do take care of yourself.

Love,

Marigold

Dick read over Marigold’s words, touched. She said exactly the things he was hoping she would. They were heading in the same direction, with the same goals. It was a relief to him. It was easy to picture Marigold as his wife, at his side. He admired her, respected her, and loved her.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Nixon teased.

Dick shook his head. “Nothing. Just something nice Marigold wrote.”

“Oh?” Nix returned, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Dick said. “I think it’s time to talk about something more serious between us.”

Nix smirked. “Should I say congratulations now or wait until after the ceremony?”

Dick rolled his eyes.

***

Dear Marigold,

It might sound silly, but I made a promise to myself after D-Day that should I survive the war, I’d find myself somewhere quiet to live out my life in peace. And you are absolutely a part of that picture. You have belonged there since that fateful day in the elevator.

I’m glad to hear Caroline is doing alright with the baby. I would like to check on Speirs, but it feels like an awkward thing to ask about. So I’m afraid I don’t have any updates on him, though I’m sure he’s in contact with Caroline.

Germany is surprisingly nice. Maybe it’s the warm weather or the lack of artillery, but we’re enjoying it here. The war should be over soon. So I’m happy to begin planning that future with you if that’s what you want. That obviously includes an offer I’d rather make in person, and we can have that conversation the next time I see you. Hopefully, that won’t be too long.

I love you and miss you.

Yours,

Dick

***

Dear Gene,

Bill and Joe are doing alright. They’ll be heading home soon, and selfish as it is, I will miss them terribly. They’re truly the most entertaining patients I’ve ever had, especially Bill. But of course you’re familiar with his personality.

I hope I’m able to get to Paris soon to be with Caroline. She has asked me to be there to be an advocate for her for something big coming up. Really big. I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly what it is, as it’s just a bit scandalous. But she’s made some wishes known to me. That sounds ominous, but everything is going well so far.

I hope you’re doing well. With spring’s arrival, there must be a bit of a reprieve if you’re outdoors. Do you have a comfortable place to sleep at least? Lord knows you and your men have earned it.

As for myself, I’ve applied to a university in Dublin, to attend in the fall (if the war is over, and it looks like it may be soon). I think it’s high time I experienced my Irish heritage and I want more for myself. I love being a nurse, but I want to explore all my options. I haven’t told anyone in the family yet. I’m going to Downton soon and will talk it over with George (he’s home on leave), but I wanted to tell you first. I could use additional hopes for my acceptance.

Look after yourself. Get some rest. Don’t forget to eat.

All my love,

Sybbie

Eugene tried not to be dismayed at the news. He wanted Sybbie to do what was best for her, but it dashed his hopes of asking her to come back to Louisiana with him. Not permanently - at least not right away - but to see a bit of his world. The way he had seen hers at Downton Abbey. He supposed it was still possible, but there was no guarantee of when the war would be over and their timeframe depended entirely on that.

Even if she was able to visit, how could they progress together - if that was even what they were - with her in Dublin and him at home? He tried to picture himself staying in Europe, but he hated the idea. He missed home too much. He did not feel he belonged in Europe, nor did he particularly want to. For the first time, they weren’t on the same page.

***

Dear Sybbie,

Thanks for all the updates on Guarnere and Toye. We’re all worried about them, and your letters put our minds at ease. I know those two appreciated your help too, and they’ll miss you back in the states.

It sounds awfully suspicious about Caroline. I trust you though. And she must too if she’s asking you to join her in Paris.

Good news, I am sleeping in a bed most nights. You’re so sweet to worry about things like that for me.

I’m proud of you for taking a chance and applying to school. Not a lot of girls have the courage to do that, even if they want to. But you’re spirited enough. I have no doubt you’ll get in. You’re a brilliant nurse, and even if you aren’t accepted, you’ll have a great career ahead of you.

You should tell your father you applied. I think it’ll make him really happy that you’re interested in Ireland. And you’ll have his hopes in your corner as well.

I know it’s unlikely, but I hope I’ll get to see you before you go.

Take care of yourself,

Eugene

***

Dear Caroline,

I’m home again on leave, and I still haven’t confessed my feelings to Kat or to Mother. Do you think me a dreadful coward? I’m beginning to think it of myself. In fairness, Mother hardly lets me alone when I’m at home, so Kat and I barely get time together for me to be able to have any sort of real discussion with her. I have bought a ring, though, and enclosed the catalog I purchased it from for your approval. You have very fine taste, and I trust you.

How are you doing? The arrival should be soon, right? Spring is fully upon us now - truly a good time for welcoming something new. I hope it all goes smoothly and you come out of it feeling as strong as I know you to be. I’m looking forward to your return to Downton.

Stay safe.

Your brother,

George

Caroline rubbed her swollen belly as she read George’s letter, her back aching. Her cousins were around her, Sybbie finally having arrived at last. The baby was due soon. May snuck up on her so quickly, she wondered where the time went. Nerves began to eat at her the closer she got, especially since she still had not told the rest of the family. She took Ron’s words to heart. She would only tell them when she was good and ready.

She decided also to get the birth over with before telling them. Perhaps they would be charmed by how cute it would be - which she was certain of - and would be more forgiving. It was always harder to be honest to someone’s face, especially a baby’s, and Caroline was banking on that. Plus, she wanted to arrange for George to be with her when she told them. She hoped he would wait on proposing to Kat. The ring he chose was stunning, and she made a mental note to tell him so.

On the morning of May 8, Caroline enjoyed breakfast with Sybbie and Victoria while Marigold went down to get a newspaper. Caroline sipped her tea and hoped there would be some good news at last.

“Why don’t you just turn on the radio?” Victoria wondered.

“Because it’s ghastly noise,” Caroline said. “Mornings are meant for quietly reading the newspaper like sensible people.”

Victoria laughed and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, Marigold burst into the room, looking winded and completely shell shocked. She’d clearly run all the way up from the lobby.

“Goodness, Marigold, what is it?” Sybbie asked.

“The war is over,” Marigold blurted out, holding out the day’s newspaper.

They all saw the VE-Day headline, though they couldn’t quite believe it. After all these years at war, it had become the new normal. The send offs, the letters, the telegrams, the sleepless nights. It was all over. No more fighting. No more death. No more.

“Good God in heaven,” Caroline breathed out. “Can it really be true?”

“It’s right there in black and white,” Marigold said, staring at the paper as if it were a bomb that might take her hand off any second.

They all feared this was a dream they might wake up from. Slowly, Sybbie rose from her chair, tears filling her eyes. She gazed at each of her cousins, who she truly regarded more as sisters now, and she reached for their hands. She took hold of Caroline’s, Caroline took hold of Victoria’s, Victoria took Marigold’s, and then Marigold and Sybbie completed the circle.

“We made it, girls,” Sybbie said. “And so did our men.”

Caroline blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. She took a deep breath and blinked the rest away.

“What are we blubbering about?” she joked. “This calls for a celebration! We should be ordering champagne not crying like babies!”

They all laughed and agreed, fighting the lumps in their throats and the mist in their eyes. And they did order champagne. Together, they shared a toast to the end of the war, and the start of their new lives.

***

Dear Marigold,

I’ve talked things over with Colonel Sink, and he’s agreed to have you all join us in Zell am Zee, Austria. Our lodgings will suit you well, I think. Plus, I know Ron is anxious to be present when Caroline gives birth. Hopefully, it hasn’t already happened. If you can clear it with her doctor to travel, let me know when we can expect you.

Looking forward to your answer.

Yours,

Dick

#band of brothers #downton abbey #ron speirs #caroline talbot #dick winters #marigold crawley #sybbie branson #eugene roe #victoria aldridge #joe liebgott #Easy Company #downton's easy company series

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

Note

🌻 If I may just request something lighter. I nee that right now.

a “happy ending, the team wins and life is made easier for them” au coming right up ;3c

bear with me for some less light content though bc it is the umbrella academy and there’s a lot of. u know. child soldiers and death. but i will try!! bear with me, starts off less light and ends much lighter I promise

so maybe not light but on god it’s going to end soft

---

When Five is seven, he walks into a room and makes a face. His siblings, who are loudly arguing, don’t notice. It’s just One and Two, going at one anothers throats for the eleventh time that one.

(It should be noted that’s it’s only the fifth of the month. So really not surprising in the slightest.)

And then Five tilts his head, and very purposefully steps backwards, and a few seconds later a knife embeds itself in the wall a few inches from Five’s face.

“You almost hit Five!” One roars, pointing accusingly.

“I wouldn’t have.” Two scowls.

Except he did.

The next day, Five looks up from his homework and frowns at Six. He’d rather ask Six alone, and Four is present, but this is the best opportunity he’s going to get to ask anything without Dad finding out or having to deal with, ugh, One.

“Hey Six?” Five asks, getting a quiet ‘hmm’ in return as Six looks up, “You ever have a dream that comes true?”

Before Six can get out a word, Four rolls over from where he’s taken his book and sprawled out on the floor with it since he can’t sit still in a chair longer than four seconds. “I thinks that’s called deja vu, dude.”

Six nods, “The feeling something has happened before, sure. Plus, if you’re stressed out about something you might dream about it. You having dreams, Five?”

Five shrugs, thoughtful. If there’s a name for the experience, then it’s something that happens to everybody and isn’t something to worry about.

“No,” He says, “I’m fine. Thanks.”

---

When Five is ten, he refuses to follow One’s - Luther’s - plan for the first time in a real life situation.

“No.” Five says, firmly, “That plan is going to get someone killed.”

“It’s a good plan.” Luther says, equally firm and just the slightest bit irritated. Being in Luther’s favor actually counts for more than he might know, and being out of it... Reginald listens to Luther in a way that he doesn’t for the rest of them.

So Five toes the line, but usually doesn’t give the boy a reason to actually complain about him. So he grouches and snipes and snarks but usually follows the plan, if with some... embellishment. He doesn’t usually disobey outright.

“I’m not doing it.” Five says, and the team is quiet to the side. Five has always been headstrong, but this head on collision is not his style.

“Yes.” Luther says, anger twisting his face into something ugly, “You are.”

And then their illustrious leader beckons for them to go, and it’s Allison who flounces off first to her position followed by a stalking Diego. Ben gives Five a hesitant look, but goes ahead without saying anything. Ben has never been a fan of conflict.

Five stares at Luther, and Luther’s eyes narrow, and Five thinks fine, he thinks, I’ll do it myself. And he jumps away.

And when things fall apart and go to shit, Five is there yanking on a skinny arm and a bullet whizzes by and Five cover Klaus’s body with his own as he shoves them both under a desk. A few minutes later, knives appear out of thin air and Five pries them out. He doesn’t even realize until they’re all looking at him, horrified, that he’s been shot. Not until he touches his fingers to his shoulder and feels the red against his fingers.

“Oh.” Five says, frowning, and then he looks at a pale faced Luther. “I told you your plan was shit.”

That’s the last thing he remembers, until he wakes up in bed feeling fuzzy with his shoulder patched and bandaged and Mom right there helping him sit up and sip from a glass.

That’s the first time Five realizes that what he does can be dangerous.

---

The thing is, it starts off incredibly simple. Harmless.

When Five dreams, his dreams are... strange. He dreams of simple things, little things. An argument that will happen. What dinner will be. That Ben is going to leave his book in the little storage room by the dumb stature of an elephant that looks more more like a bulldog with a snake attached to its face.

The thing is, he believes Klaus at first. That it’s harmless. Except it becomes less fuzzy and less a feeling that something will happen, and becomes something sharper. Something more than deja vu.

He thinks about telling his father, because he’s angry with Luther and craves recognition and discovering something new about their powers is a surefire way to get Dad’s undivided attention.

(When Diego discovered he could hold his breath for an alarming amount of time, the rest of the family didn’t see him for a week.)

That’s the first night he wakes up with cut off screams in his throat, and the knowledge that his father is a ruthless, tricky man. And very very inventive.

(He does not tell his father about his power development. He doesn’t tell anyone, actually.

He loves his siblings, but he doesn’t trust them. Information, in this household, is power. A bargaining chip. He loves his siblings, but Reginald is clever and he is cruel and any one of them would betray the others if it hurt enough.)

As he grows older, his dreams become more vivid. And they stop just being about the next day.

He saves Klaus’s life from a bad plan, but he learns a lesson. If he changes what his dreams show him, he doesn’t know what will happen next. He saved Klaus, but got shot himself.

He gets a choice, between having absolute certainty, and changing the future. It means that Five rarely acts on his dreams. Not unless he has to. And after that awful, awful mission, Five also learns to be more subtle.

Especially after a bedbound interrogation by his father, that Five barely manages to spin into it just being a challenging brat, and things just happening to go down badly was a coincidence that Five will hold over Luther’s head for the rest of time.

And Five is a challenging brat at the best of time, and so Reginald believes him, but he learns to be more subtle.

So Five... nudges things. When he absolutely has to. And the rest of the time he bites his own tongue and stomps on his own fury and grits his teeth. He does what he can, when it can’t be traced back to him.

(Klaus goes into the mausoleum, and he wraps his arms around himself in a terrified hug, and his hand bumps something in his pocket. A little flashlight. Klaus thinks for a moment about how it could have gotten there, and decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s still terrible, but it’s more bearable with a little bit of light.)

---

Five is twelve when he starts dreaming about the end of the world. He also discovers an entirely new aspect to his power.

When Five sleeps, he dreams of time travel. He dreams of the fizzle of time itself against his palms, how exhilarating it is. Time itself at his command, no, not command. Time itself cradling him in its infinite grasp. It’s not like jumping through space. Time is, it’s so big. And it loves him. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he does. Time loves him, and he loves it.

He wants to travel, he wants it desperately. But he knows what will happen if he does. He knows, he sees, he dreams over weeks, over months, lives an entire life in eight hour increments.

And in this life, Five learned his lesson early. You don’t tell Reginald Hargreeves about new developments in your power unless you’re willing to go through his private training in order to train it.

Five doesn’t mention anything about time travel, to anyone.

Five is thirteen-years-old and two-months and he misses the day he was supposed to time travel on. And he wakes up sweating and dizzy and dying.

(Five Hargreeves is time’s child. Time loves him, but he needs time in a way he never realized. he made a change. It’s too big of a change.)

Five wipes his face, splashes some cold water, and gets to work.

The first thing he does, is go into Vanya’s room and sit her down.

“Are you okay?” She whispers. She’s always been so quiet, like a mouse tiptoeing around in a house full of cats. And Five regrets, for just a moment, not telling her sooner that she’s always been a cat as well.

“I need to tell you something.” Five whispers back, determination making him sit up straight. “And I need you to not be angry.”

“Why would I be angry?” Vanya asks, tilting her head and looking confused.

“Because I kept a secret from you.” Five whispers.

Vanya just gives him the most puzzled look, “What secret? Why?”

“Because information is power, Vanya.” Five tells her, reaching out and taking her hand in his own, “Because I love you, I love you all. But I don’t know what’s going to happen, only what could happen. What cannot happen.”

“Five you aren’t making any sense.” She reaches up to feel his forehead, snapping her hand back to her side, “You’re burning up! Five!”

Five smiles at her, “I keep so many secrets, Vanya. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m going to change the world, and you’re the only one I can trust to help me, okay?”

“Five... I don’t understand.” Vanya says, helpless.

“You will.” Five says, his smile turning just a little watery, “Promise me something though. Promise me you won’t hate me. Won’t hate any of us.”

“What are you talking about.”

Five shakes her hand, “We were so little Vanya. We didn’t know. Allison didn’t know. The only person to blame for this is Dad, because he did something terrible, Van. Something awful. He made us all do something terrible.”

“Five...”

“Promise me Vanya.” Five demands, shaking his head. “Promise me, promise me you won’t hate us. If you have to hate someone, hate dad. But promise me.”

“I - I promise.” Vanya stutters, confused.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re the only child that didn’t develop powers?” Five asks gently, “Haven’t you ever wondered why, if you don’t have powers, Dad kept you? You know him. We all know him. He’s a practical man. If you’re of no use to him...”

“...He would throw me away.” Vanya finishes, her voice a mere whisper. “But he did. He did keep me, so - so he must think I have potential, right?”

“He knows you have potential, Vanya.” Five’s voice is soft, gentle, in a way it never is. “He knows, because he took it away from you.”

“What - Five?”

Five gives Vanya’s hand another little shake. “How long have you taken your anxiety meds, Van?”

“My what?” She pulls her hand out of his, drawing it up to her chest, “I - I don’t know. A long time.”

“Since we were four, Van.” Five tucks his empty hands into his lap, hiding the trembling of his fingers, “Do you know what else happened when we were four? We started getting our powers, remember?”

“Speak plainly, Five.” Vanya’s hands are trembling as well, but not for the same reason.

“He stole it from you, Van.” Five whispers, “You were four. You didn’t realize how dangerous you were. You didn’t understand, you were so little. So he took them, and then he never gave them back.”

Vanya’s eyes are wet, and she brings a trembling hand to her mouth, “No.”

“He told Allison to make you forget.” He grips the fabric of his shorts as a shudder ripples through him, “She was four. How could she say no? He made all of us forget, and then how could we know to tell you?”

Vanya is openly crying, a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs because everyone in the manor knows how dangerous crying can be. How dangerous the wrong kind of attention can be. “Then how do you know, Five.” She manages to get out, “How do you know.”

Five offers her a watery smile, “Because I keep secrets, Vanya. My powers, they’re not. They’re not what everyone thinks. I know things, because when I close my eyes at night I see things.”

That makes Vanya stop crying, just for a moment out of sheer confusion. “What?”

“I’ve known about you for a year. I know so many things. A lifetime of things. But none of that matters, because this, right here, right now? Changes everything. Do you understand?

“No!” Vanya bursts out, sounding angry. “No, I don’t understand!”

“I’m dying, Vanya.” Five says bluntly, which throws off Vanya’s anger like she’s been dunked in cold water. “I didn’t know. Not until today. This is the biggest change I’ve ever made, do you understand? I didn’t know. I need to leave. I need to - to reboot. I don’t belong to this timeline, not anymore. It’s rejecting me, unless I can reset myself. But if I do, where will I land?”

Vanya looks confused, and Five can’t blame her. He’s dropping a lot on her right now.

“Isn’t it funny?” Five’s smile is anything but cheerful, “Isn’t is cruel? If I want to survive, I have to jump. But if I jump, I can’t change anything. So you see? I have to try and change everything now. I have to trust.”

Five loves his siblings, but he’s never trusted them. Not really. Not with the important things. But now he has to. Has to take a, ha, leap of faith.

“Five, talk sense.” Vanya demands.

And so Five tells her everything. He tells her about yesterday, about getting up from the dinner table, of jumping three times and ending up in the apocalypse. He tells her about the Commission, about Reginald’s death, about a man with two faces who convinced Vanya he loved her and turned her against them. He tells her about the end of the world.

Vanya is pale, and shaking. “I wouldn’t.” She whispers, “I wouldn’t.”

“You won’t.” Five says, “You were manipulated. It was planned, you were pushed. You were the weapon that was used to start the apocalypse, but you weren’t the shooter, Van. You’re my sister. I love you. I know you. You’re stronger than you know.”

“I’m not. Five, I’m not.”

“Look at me.” Five demands, getting get attention. “I’m right here. Telling you. I’m not in Luther’s room, asking him to keep an eye on you. I’m not in Allison’s room, telling her to use her powers to keep you in line. I’m not in Ben’s room, telling him the future. I’m talking to you. Vanya. My sister.”

“Five...” Vanya whispers.

“I’m a secret keeper, Vanya.” Five says, “I don’t trust. But I’m here, and I’m trusting you.”

“Why?” Vanya asks, a sensible question.

“You’re the only one I can. Luther and Diego are too hotheaded. Allison too vain. Ben too afraid, Klaus too fragile.” Five tells her as another tremor goes through his body. “I love you. I trust you. You’re going to save the world.”

“How?”

“You need to be careful. There are eyes on us. Watching. If we change too much, we risk everything. You need to be quiet, you need to be wary, you need to trust no one. Dad thinks he controls you entirely, he thinks he has you completely under his thumb. He doesn’t watch you the way he does the rest of us, which gives you a freedom none of the others have.”

Vanya shakes her head, “I don’t know, Five.”

“If you want to stop taking your pills, you can. You can sneak out. You can train by yourself, away from the cameras. If you’re careful, you can learn.” Five looks at her sympathetically, “But the thing about that power, is that you have to keep it secret. Dad kept you, when he thought he could control you. What would he do if he thought he couldn’t?”

Vanya lifts a hand to her mouth. She wants their father’s attention with same fierce heartbreaking way they all do, but she also knows him. He’s Reginald Hargreeves, and he’s drugged her for the entirety of his life in the name of control. He is the ultimate power in the household. Reginald doesn’t flinch at killing. They all know that.

“You have to be careful.” He tells Vanya, “You have to stay alive. You have to save Ben. You have to be smart, you have to be so smart, Van. And you have to do it alone, because I won’t be here.”

Vanya nods, quiet and solemn.

Another shudder ripples through Five, this one hard enough to make him fell off the bed with a muffled shout. Vanya shoots to his side instantly, grabbing his arm and helping him up.

“You need to go, Five.” She says, frantic, “You need to go.”

“I don’t want to.” Five admits, “I don’t want to leave you alone. This is so much, Van. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“I’m not alone.” Vanya tells him firmly, “I have you. And I’ll have you again, in seventeen years. It sounds like a long time, but that doesn’t matter. Because you’ll be alive. You’ve always been there for me, even when you didn’t know. Even when you thought I was ordinary. You’re the only person in the house who treats me like, like a person.”

“You’re my sister.” Five smiles, “I trust you.”

“Go, Five.” Vanya whispers, leading him to the window and hiking it up. Five appreciates the gesture, it’s always easier to jump when he knows where he’s going to land. “Go, and I’ll make sure you have a world to come back to.”

Five nods, and he’s crying a little as he pulls her into the tightest hug he can. She’s crying, too.

And then he jumps, and he’s out on the street. He turns to look back up at the window, and there’s Vanya with a hand to her mouth but still watching him. He nods to her, and then he jumps.

---

He’s crying, as he jumps the first time, but it’s almost in relief. The way he changed the timeline - it hurts. It’s not a simple thing. The other timelines he altered, they aren’t nearly as big. By not going the day he should have, by telling Vanya and asking her to save the world...

He gouged out a timeline. He carved out a future from time itself to cast it aside. Not just a little one, not one that didn’t matter, not the future of something as small as a human life. He changed the future of the world.

But when he bathes himself in blue, it smoothes over the ragged gaping wound he put in himself. It takes away the pain, because time is... adaptable. It isn’t linear. It repairs itself, given the opportunity.

He jumps again, and the pain gets even better as time itself heals. As it accepts his actions, what can and will happen.

He hesitates though, before the final jump. He never lived that first timeline. Not really. But he remembers it, which is nearly as bad. He remembers the hunger, sharp and painful. He remembers the grief. He remembers finding the bodies of his siblings, and not understanding what had happened. He remembers the apocalypse, in all of its gruesome glory. It’s never happened. It will never happen, because he trusts Vanya. But he remembers it, and so he hesitates.

But he trusts Vanya. He has to trust Vanya.

So he jumps, one final time, he jumps.

---

He stands on the street, and someone bumps into him from behind and mutters an apology, and Five is rooted to the ground. The world has not ended. He is on the street, in front of the manor, and he whirls around and looks up and a window and -

Vanya isn’t there. Of course she isn’t. He never got a time he arrived in the future-that-wasn’t. She wouldn’t be able to just... stand at a window all day. That would be silly.

He has to find her. He doesn’t know where she is. Except - except he can hear something. Loud, raised voices. Familiar voices, even out here on the street.

The courtyard.

Five is exhausted. He’s healed, the timelines have smoothed over and stopped killing him, but he’s tired. But even so, he jumps. It’s nice to have a view of where he’s going, but he’s never needed that.

He jumps into the middle of - an argument. His entire family is there. Harold Jenkins is there, yelling something about the family not loving her, and Five freezes.

And everybody freezes.

And then Vanya smiles at him and says, “Five. You made it.”

Harold Jenkins sputters, the rest of the family starts to shout, and in one smooth movement Vanya pulls something out of her jacket and turns around and -

Harold Jenkins falls to the ground. Dead. The gun sits in Vanya’s hand, steady as anything.

“Shit!” Luther roars, but Five doesn’t care about that.

He’s already run into Vanya’s arms. She drops the gun on the ground and folds him against her and he’s crying and he isn’t quite sure why. “Shhh, sh. It’s over.” She soothes him, her hand carding through his hair, “It’s over. You did it, Five. You saved the world.”

“No,” Five manages to find his voice, “You did. And you did it alone. You must have been so so alone.”

Vanya laughs, squeezing him tighter, “Don’t worry. I’ve had a lot of practice at that.”

“What the actual fuck.” Ben says. Ben. Alive and wonderful and alive and Five draws back just to stare at him. “Five?”

“You killed a man!” Luther hollers, looking absolutely scandalized. He isn’t huge, isn’t wearing a trenchcoat. He looks... smaller, than Five remembers him being. More normal.

Klaus looks... normal. Well. He’s got what look like the tightest possible skinny jeans and a crop top and way too much eyeliner, but otherwise - he looks healthier, draped across Ben’s shoulder and staring at Five with wide eyes.

“Vanya?” Allison demands, and Five kind of wants to duck behind Vanya because his breath is coming a little bit fast and he feels a little bit dizzy, which is stupid because this is everything he ever wanted. Everything. His family, safe and sound and whole.

Vanya smoothes her hand through Five’s hair again, and then looks around at their audience. “I think,” She says, and her voice is strong and sure and so very different from the Vanya Five knows, the one that whispers and tiptoes as quiet as a mouse, “We should take this conversation inside.”

And that’s how they all end up in the living room, squished onto the couches. Five is next to Vanya, he hasn’t let go of her arm.

“I think I should tell you about the night that Five went missing.” Vanya says finally, when they’re all settled.

“What about it?” Diego says gruffly, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. He also hasn’t taken his eyes off of Five.

“Five’s powers aren’t just jumping.” Vanya says, after looking at Five to get his nod. And doesn’t that comment set a fox among the chickens? There’s a solid five minutes of yelling before the family realizes that Vanya is patiently waiting for silence.

Vanya smiles and nods approvingly when they all settle down. Five wonders if she’s a kindergarten teacher or something in this timeline.

(He has to hold in another shudder at the thought, because he’s finally realized why his lungs feel so tight and he hasn’t really spoken yet. He’s terrified. He’s so used to knowing, and he’s just dropped himself in the middle of a giant mystery. He loved his siblings. He loved them in the timeline-that-wasn’t. He loves them now. But he doesn’t know them. He doesn’t know anything. And that terrifies him.

In their household, information was power. To not have any at all is... unthinkable. Horrifying. He’s so scared, he can barely breathe. But Vanya is holding him back, and she just saved the world, and he tries his best to trust her.)

“Five’s powers are to do with time. He saw the future, and he saw the end of the world, and he decided to stop it.” Vanya says finally, “And he told me how to do it.”

“Why is Five so quiet?” Allison demands, sounding worried. Five wonders if Claire exists in this universe. He mourns, just a tiny bit, for the niece he never met.

Vanya squeezes Five a little, and looks at him with just as much worry in her eyes. “Five?”

And for some reason, the first thing that falls out of Five’s mouth is - “Dad’s dead?”

“Dead as a doornail.” Klaus confirms, and Ben nods.

“Really dead?” Five insists, and he’s not sure why, “You’re sure he’s dead?”

“Yes, Five.” Ben says, quietly. “He’s dead.”

Five looks up, and he finds Diego’s gaze and holds it, “If he knew, if he knew what I could do...” He sees the realization spark behind Diego’s eyes, “I saw it, when I thought I was going to tell him. I saw what he would do, if he knew.”

“So you kept it a secret.” Diego says softly. He’s not as hard as not-Five’s Diego, or at least not right now. He looks sympathetic, as Five nods carefully.

“Do you remember,” Five begins, pausing the clear his throat, “Do you remember that mission where I told Luther his plan was stupid?”

Luther’s eyes are wide when Five glances over at him.

But Five skips over Luther and looks at Klaus, “You could have died.” He tells his brother, and his voice shakes a little bit, and it’s terrifying to say these things out loud. Part of him expects his father to walk out from behind a door, having heard everything. “You would have died. Except you already died, the night before, when I was dreaming.”

“Five...” Klaus shakes his head, and Ben grabs Klaus’s arm tightly as if the lanky man will evaporate into thin air.

“I for one want to know about the dead body in the courtyard.” Luther says, sounding a little shellshocked.

“He introduced himself as to me as Leonard Peabody.” Vanya picks up, “His real name is Harold Jenkins. He wanted to destroy the Umbrella Academy. He didn’t realize that he was actually priming a bomb.”

“A bomb?” Diego yelps, “What bomb?”

“Me.” Vanya says, smiling.

Everyone stares at her, and Five hits her on the arm. “You aren’t a bomb. You’re my sister.”

Vanya smiles at him, and tucks him firmer against his side. Two days ago, Five would have bristled and pushed her away. Today, Five’s entire world has been ripped away from him and he refuses to feel guilty for taking comfort where he can.

Five turns to glare at Luther, at Diego, at everyone. “You all died.” Five informs them, and he isn’t sure why he’s angry, “The whole world died. I don’t care about one murderer who hated us, who wanted us to suffer. He tried to use Vanya, and I’m glad he’s dead!”

Silence follows this declaration, and Five isn’t actually sure when he’d started yelling. Or when he’d started crying, actually.

But there’s Vanya, and she’s there folding him back into her arms and letting him tuck his face into her neck as he sobs like the world ended. Except it hadn’t. It hadn’t.

“What’s wrong with him?” Klaus fails to whisper.

“It’s been a long day for him.” Vanya says, and Five is so tired. “He’s just helped pull off the biggest con of the century, and the fight isn’t over yet.”

“The commission.” Five whispers.

“Get some rest.” Vanya tells him, pushing at him until he’s paying down on the sofa with his head in her lap, “You’re practically falling asleep. We’re still going to be here after you get some sleep.”

“You promise?” Five asks, and maybe it’s childish but - he’s afraid. He’s afraid he’s going to open eyes and find out that this is just a dream again, that he’s going to have to do this all over again.

“I promise.” Vanya says, smiling. “Have I ever broken a promise?”

And Five’s eyes are slipping shut, and the world has been spinning for a while, and he’s had a very very emotionally exhausting conversation with his sister, jumped in time three times, and then had a very emotional time reuniting with his family and watching his sister shoot a man.

“Trust me.” Vanya says softly.

So he does.

---

“He’s so little.” Ben whispers, a solid five minutes after Five’s eyes slip shut.

“He’s thirteen.” Vanya tells them, carding her fingers through Five’s hair. “He’s thirteen, and he’s had the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

“Why didn’t he just tell us?” Allison asks.

Vanya just looks at Allison with sad eyes, “Why would he have? By staying quiet, he gave himself the power to act. By staying quiet, he protected himself.”

“He should have told us.” Luther states firmly.

“He was just a kid.” Vanya says, “He was just a kid, and he was scared. We all were. But he was more scared than anyone. You know the way Dad pitted us against one another. He loved us, but he didn’t trust us. Not when Dad was too smart and too cunning and too cruel.”

“Don’t talk about Dad like that.” Luther says quietly, and just shakes his head, “I know. I know. But - I know. But he’s still - he’s still Dad. I still - I know, but - ”

Luther has had a week, so Vanya forgives him. Finding out Dad was... Dad had been a bit of a shock to him.

“What now?” Ben asks.

“Now, I tell you about the Commission.” Vanya says serenely, “Now, we work together and make sure that the world stays whole. Now, we look after our brother.”

“If I remember anything about Five, that’s going to be a difficult job.” Klaus waves his hands a little but in emphasis.

“Good thing he has all of us then, isn’t it?”

---

That’s it. That’s the au. Five’s time travel powers translate into seeing the future, and he uses it to give his sister a little trust and a lot of responsibility and manages to save the world

Vanya listens to her brother. She keeps her head down. She knows, with undeniable proof, that her family loves her. That at least one person trusts her. That at least one person believes in her.

She is Vanya, with a mission. With the most important mission the Umbrella Academy had ever faced. Perhaps the most dangerous mission the Umbrella had ever faced. The scariest mission, because it’s an undercover one.

It’s one where Vanya kept quiet, stayed silent, stayed under the radar. She hid pills under her tongue and left the mansion, going to the parks in the dead of night with her violin tucked under her chin trying to figure out a power she didn’t quite understand.

Vanya saves Ben. She crept out, was in the right place at the right time. Blasted one man into a wall with the sound of gunshots rattling in her skull, and then went home and bit her knuckles until the whole team came home safe and sound.

She saves Luther. Luther was hurt, but he didn’t die. He wasn’t at the point their father tried an experimental drug on him. His knee might never recover. He might always walk with a limp. But he’s alive, and he doesn’t have to hide. Isn’t ashamed any time he looks in the mirror.

She saves Klaus. She gets him into rehab. She encourages Ben to check in on him. She keeps in touch with the both, makes sure Klaus has enough to eat and isn’t on the streets and that he’s happy and healthy and safe.

She saves Allison. She doesn’t write her book, but she writes to Patrick. She talks to him, on the phone, and essentially gives him the shovel talk. She tells him that Allison has issues, she encourages them to get therapy. Couples therapy. Allison works on her issues at Patrick’s insistence. They still divorce, but it’s amiable this time around.

She saves Diego, who in another world grieved Ben and pushed the rest of the family away. Diego is less angry. More solid. He dropped out of the police academy, but he co-owns a gym and boxes in his free time and he doesn’t live in a boiler room.

She saves Five, who is so young and so frightened, who loves her enough to trust her. She saves him, by saving the world. Her brother, her wonderful brother who pulled the strings for so long and was terrified to stop. Who is thirteen years old and a child and it’s hard to believe that she was ever that young herself.

They have a lot to do still, of course. The Commission isn’t going to be happy, they’re going to be sending people. But they aren’t as broken. And they have a unifying force to help them along:

Five. Because he’s young, and tiny, and he reminds them of exactly what their father did to them in a way canon five just... doesn’t. Because canon!Five looks young, but they know he isn’t every time they interact with him. This Five is... he’s young. He’s scared. He’s angry. He’s grieving.

He doesn’t know them, and he isn’t sure if he wants to. Isn’t sure if he wants to let go of the siblings he knew while wanting desperately to connect with the siblings of now. Because at the end of the day, he loves them.

And Vanya is independent, and more confident, and she hasn’t been on that numbing medication in years. She hasn’t been a mouse since she left her father’s house when she was eighteen. Her brother was gone, and she had to step into his role as puppetmaster. She had to pull strings, to keep her family alive, while never looking like she was.

Vanya has waited seventeen years preparing. She has a two bedroom apartment, she moved most of Five’s things over there years ago. She’s ready to do what someone should have done all those years ago. She’s ready to take care of her brother, because she didn’t realize until she took the job just how much he had on his plate.

The family has to band together to deal with the commission agents. But Vanya refuses to be a weapon. She refuses to be the bomb. She refuses to betray her family.

Five chooses to trust, but Vanya is the one who steps up. Decides that even if she doesn’t care about the rest of the world, even if she doesn’t particularly care for half of her siblings, it doesn’t matter.

Vanya is going to save the world.

#ask game #this was fun lmao #prophet au #five has future vision why not #vanya gets to save the world by herself #because she deserves it #vanya saves everyone including herself #and also still gets to kill harold #vanya deserves an award for trickery #she makes for the best secret agent #five is. very stressed out #that's what happens when you experience an entire lifetime of memories that are super traumatizing #without actually experiencing the trauma #five is very confused #and very scared #and very stressed out in general honestly #he's only thirteen after all #not sure how light this ended up being but it sure is new lmao #it was this or an au where five travels back in time... after he dies #and everyone knows that klaus's power is 'astral projection' not talking to the dead #aka klaus fakes a different power with ghost!Five's help #but instead you get prophet five au #long post #far tua long #the umbrella academy #tua #tua au #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #jojowing

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 25

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 25 - This Venerable One Hates Him So Much!

Chu Wanning couldn't force a "go away" to leave his throat. There was a long sombre pause before he changed his answer to: "Come in."

"Huh? Your door isn't locked?" They had been giving each other the silent treatment all day. But now, Mo Ran had the intention of reconciling with him, so he pushed open the door as he spoke like nothing had ever happened. Chu Wanning, on the other hand, sat expressionlessly at the table. He raised his eyes and glanced at him faintly.

In all fairness, Mo Ran was incredibly beautiful, and the whole room seemed to brighten as soon as he walked in the door. He was indeed very young. His skin was tight and seemed to exude a faint glow. The corners of his mouth were naturally slightly curled, and he seemed to be smiling even when he wasn't showing any emotion.

Chu Wanning didn't move his eyes off of Mo Ran. His slender eyelashes drooped and raised his hand to pinch out the incense burning on the table. He coldly asked:

"What are you doing here?"

"I came. . . to check your injury." Mo Ran awkwardly coughed. His eyes fell on Chu Wanning's shoulder and he froze. "You dressed it already?"

Chu Wanning faintly said: "Yes."

Mo Ran didn't know what to say: ". . ."

He really hated Chu Wanning, and he was furious that Chu Wanning had hurt Shi Mei. But, after calming down, Mo Ran wasn't completely without a conscience. Yeah, he hated him, but he didn't forget that Chu Wanning's shoulder was injured.

In the claustrophobic coffin, Chu Wanning had tightly guarded him in his arms, blocking the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws with his own body. His body had trembled in pain but he didn't let go. . .

To Chu Wanning, Mo Ran was disgusting.

But in addition to disgust, some very complicated emotions were always mixed in with it for some reason.

He was a rude person. He didn't read books when he was a child. Although he obtained some literary knowledge later, he still couldn't grasp many concepts easily when it came to many delicate things, especially when it came to feelings.

For example, when it came to Chu Wanning, Mo Ran rubbed his head and pondered. The back of his head was going to go bald, but he still couldn't figure out what this feeling was.

He can only identify certain kinds of feelings: love, hate, detest, happiness and unhappiness.

If all these emotions were mixed together, the wise and powerful cultivation emperor would get crossed-eyed and really dizzy.

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He didn't know. Help, my head hurts.

So Mo Ran didn't bother to dwell on it. Besides, he didn't have time to focus on any details other than Shi Mei.

He didn't hold good feelings for Chu Wanning in his heart, and while secretly plotting when he might have an opportunity in the future, he would make him pay with double the ferocity. On the other hand, he felt guilty. After an internal battle with himself, he finally knocked on Chu Wanning's door.

He didn't want to owe Chu Wanning.

But Chu Wanning was more stubborn and ruthless than he thought.

Mo Ran stared at the pile of blood-stained cotton gauze on the table, the bowl of hot water stained red with blood, and the sharp knife that was thrown haphazardly thrown aside. The tip of the knife was still coated with flesh and blood. His head was spinning.

How did he manage to heal himself?

Had he really cut off the festering flesh without so much as blinking? Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. Was this guy even human?

He thought about when he had cleaned up Shi Mei's wound. Shi Mei had groaned softly in pain with tears in the corners of his eyes. Even though Mo Ran didn’t like Chu Wanning, he couldn’t help but silently give him credit——

Elder Yuheng was truly a domineering and righteous man, no arguments there.

After standing in place for a while, Mo Ran was the first to break the silence. He coughed, tapping his toes against the floor, and awkwardly said: "What happened in the Chen house. . . Shizun, I'm sorry."

Chu Wanning didn't say anything.

Mo Ran stole a glance at him: "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Chu Wanning still ignored him. His face was still. As always, he had no reaction, but that didn't mean he wasn't aggravated and just not saying anything.

Mo Ran walked over. When he got closer, he saw the mess of bandages on Chu Wanning's shoulder. The cotton gauze was tied in several different ways. It looked like a group of crabs that were stuck together.

". . ."

Also, for a person who doesn't know how to wash his own clothes, can he really be trusted to treat himself?

Mo Ran sighed: "Shizun, don't be angry."

"Do I look angry?" Chu Wanning angrily responded.

Mo Ran: ". ."

After a long pause.

"Shizun, that's not how you wrap a bandage. . ."

He retorted unceremoniously: "You want you to teach me?"

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He raised his hand. He wanted to help Chu Wanning untie the gauze and wrap it again, but he was observant and felt that if he dared to touch him, he might end up with a lashing, so he hesitated.

He raised his hand then lowered it, and then raised it again, repeating the action several times. Chu Wanning was getting annoyed. He squinted at him: "What are you doing? Do you still want to fight me?"

". . ." He really wanted to fight him, but now wasn't a good time.

Mo Ran smiled sheepishly. Throwing caution to the wind, he suddenly reached over and grabbed his shoulders, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth: "Shizun, let me help you re-bandage it."

Chu Wanning wanted to refuse, but Mo Ran's warm fingers had already wrapped around the bandage. His mouth felt dry and stiff. He couldn't speak, so his lips moved slightly but nothing came out.

The gauze was peeled off layer by layer. Blood had soaked through it, and when it was all torn back, the five holes were piercingly obvious and hideous.

Just looking at it, he shuddered. It was many times more serious than the would on Shi Mei's face.

Mo Ran didn't know what he was looking at. He was stunned, then suddenly asked softly: "Does it hurt?"

Chu Wanning lowered his long and slender eyelashes, and simply said lightly: "It's fine."

Mo Ran said: "I'll be gentle."

Chu Wanning didn't know what he was thinking, and suddenly his ear flushed a little red. As a result, he got angry with himself again. He thought he was going crazy. All day he had been thinking up such nonsensical thoughts. His expression grew stiff. His temper worsened, and he said dryly, "It's up to you."

The candlelight in the guest room flickered. In the dim light, he could see that he had completely missed some spots with the ointment. Mo Ran was honestly speechless. He thought it was a miracle that Chu Wanning was still alive and healthy today.

"Shizun."

"Hmm?"

"What happened to you today at the Chen house? Why did you suddenly lash out and hit someone?" He asked while applying some ointment.

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, then replied: "I was angry."

Mo Ran asked: "Why were you so angry?"

Chu Wanning didn't want to trouble his disciple, so he told Mo Ran a brief and concise version of Luo Xianxian's story. After Mo Ran listened to the story, he shook his head: "You're stupid. In this kind of situation, even if you're angry, you shouldn't confront them about it to their face. If it were me, I would've made a mess of things and lie to them that the ghost had been removed, and then pat their asses and leave, letting them fend for themselves. Just look at you making a scene over such a rotten man. You knew you probably wouldn't get through to him, and then you missed and wounded Shi Mei--"

Halfway through the sentence, Mo Ran abruptly stopped. He stared silently at Chu Wanning.

He tied the bandage carefully. He was a little forgetful and he was talking to Chu Wanning like he had when he was 32, pretty cheekily.

Chu Wanning obviously noticed. He squinted his eyes, looking coldly at Mo Ran. That look resembled a very familiar phrase - "See if I don't whip you to death."

"Uh. . ."

Before his brain had thought up a response, Chu Wanning has already begun speaking.

He said indifferently: "Is Shi Mingjing the one I wanted to fight?"

When Shi Mei was mentioned, Mo Ran's originally calm mental state started to shift and his tone hardened: "Isn't he the person you hit?"

Chu Wanning did regret hitting him, but he couldn't admit it. At this moment, his face was sullen and he didn't say a word.

Chu Wanning was the stubborn type. Mo Ran was the lovesick type. Their eyes meet and sparks crackled. The atmosphere that had just eased a little became hopelessly stagnant again.

Mo Ran said: "Shi Mei didn't do anything wrong. Shizun, you hurt him by accident. Don't you want to say that you're sorry?"

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes dangerously: "Are you questioning me?"

". . . I'm not." Mo Ran paused. "I just feel bad that he got hurt but never got an apology from Shizun."

Under the candlelight, the handsome and youthful teenager finished wrapping the last bandage on Chu Wanning's wound and carefully tied a knot. It may have looked like the scene was quite warm, but the mood between them had changed. Especially Chu Wanning; his chest felt like a jar of vinegar had exploded in it. The feeling of sourness was overwhelming and he felt angry and annoyed.

Apologize?

How do you even spell that word? Who'll teach him how to write?

Mo Ran said: "It'll take half a year for the wound on his face to heal. When I gave him some medicine just now, he still told me not to blame you. Shizun, he doesn't blame you, but do you think that justifies what you did?"

This sentence was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

Chu Wanning had been enduring it but he finally couldn't hold it back. He suppressed his voice and muttered: "Get out."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Chu Wanning exploded: "Get out!"

Mo Ran was forced out and the door slammed shut in his face, almost clamping his fingers. Mo Ran was furious. Just look at this! What kind of person was this? All this just to avoid apologizing? Such cherished and treasured pride. What was so difficult about saying sorry? All he needs to do is move his mouth. This Venerable One was the Emperor TaXian, yet this Venerable One didn't hesitate to apologize to others. As for the Beidou Immortal, half of his words were inexplicable, as if he had swallowed them. What a ridiculous temper!

No wonder no one cared about such a handsome face!

It was a waste of time. He deserved to stay single for the rest of his life!

Since Chu Wanning would rather ignore him and give him a closed-door to talk to, then of course the high and mighty cultivation emperor, the emperor of the human world, wouldn't lose any sleep over this. Although he was tenacious and as hard to get rid of as a piece of sticky candy, he stuck to Shi Mei, not his shizun.

He immediately left without a care and went to join Shi Mei.

"Why are you back so soon?" Shi Mei was in the midst of lying down to rest when he saw Mo Yan come in. He froze and sat up, long strands of ink hair hanging all over the place. "How's Shizun?"

"Very good. His temper is as strong as usual."

Shi Mei: ". . ."

Mo Ran brought over a chair and sat on it backwards. His hand rested on the back of the Taishi chair, a lazy smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. His gaze flicked across the appearance of Shi Mei's soft and long hair.

Shi Mei said: "Why don't I go and see him. . ."

"Don't think too much about it." Mo Ran rolled his eyes. "He's terrible."

"Did you make him angry again?"

"He needs someone to provoke him? He makes himself angry. I think he's made of wood considering he's so flammable."

Shi Mei shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Mo Ran said: "Get some rest. I'll borrow the kitchen downstairs and make you some food."

Shi Mei said: "What's the fuss? You haven't closed your eyes all night. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Haha, I am in good spirits." Mo Ran laughed. "But if you can't bear me leaving, I can stay with you for a while until you fall asleep."

Shi Mei hurriedly waved his hand and said warmly: "No, if you have to look at me like this, I won't be able to sleep either. You should go to bed early. Don't exhaust yourself."

The curvature in the corners of his mouth stiffened slightly. Mo Ran was a little sad.

Although Shi Mei treated him kindly, he always maintained such a distant attitude. It was the attitude of someone who was obviously close at hand, but as the moon in the mirror and the flower in the water, he could be seen but not obtained.

". . . Okay." In the end, he just tried to cheer up and laughed. Mo Ran's smile was very bright. When he wasn't completely evil, he was actually pretty silly and cute. "Call me if you need anything. I'm either right next door or downstairs."

"Okay."

Mo Ran raised his hand, wanting to touch his hair, but he held back. He spun his hand around in the air and scratched his head.

"I'm leaving."

Outside of the room, Mo Ran couldn't help but sneeze.

He sniffed.

Because Caidie Town produced incense, the price of all the different kinds of incense wasn't as expensive, so the inn wasn't stingy with it. Each room was lit with a long branch of special incense; one can ward off evil spirits, another can dehumidify, the last one can give the room a nice fragrance.

But as soon as Mo Ran smelled the incense, it made him uncomfortable. But if Shi Mei liked it, he would endure it.

Coming downstairs, Mo Yan wandered over to the innkeeper, slipped him a silver ingot. He squinted his eyes and said with a smile: "Innkeeper, do me a favour."

The innkeeper looked at the silver ingot and smiled more politely at Mo Ran: "What is this immortal gentleman's request?"

Mo Ran said: "I see that not many people come here to eat breakfast. I wanted to discuss that with you. I want to use the kitchen this morning. Please let the other guests know."

How much money would breakfast make him? It would probably be impossible to earn a silver ingot in half a month. The innkeeper immediately smiled and agreed, leading the swaggering Mo Weiyu into the kitchen of the inn.

"You want to cook by yourself? It's better to let the chef in our inn do it. He's very talented."

"No need." Mo Ran smiled. "Have you heard of the Jade Wine Building in Xiangtan?"

"Ah. . . Is that the famous music performance building that started getting popular more than a year ago?"

Mo Ran: "Yeah."

The boss took a peek outside and confirmed that his wife was busy and couldn't overhear. He snickered and said, "Who hasn't heard of it? It's the most famous restaurant on the Xiangjiang River. It used to have a lead musician there. It’s a pity it's so far away, otherwise, I'd want to listen to her play a song."

Mo Ran laughed: "Thank you for the compliment. I'll pass it onto her."

"Pass it on?" The innkeeper was puzzled. "Do you know her?"

Mo Ran said: "More than just know."

"Wow. . .You don't say? But you cultivators can be. . . well. . ."

Mo Ran interrupted him with a smile: "Other than the lead musician, do you know anything else?"

"Hmm. . . Their food was said to be a must."

The corners of Mo Ran's mouth curled higher and he smiled brighter. He skillfully picked up the kitchen knife and said: "Before I took up cultivation, I was a cook in the kitchen in the Jade Wine Building for several years. You said that your chefs make delicious dishes. Whose is better, theirs or mine?"

The innkeeper was even more shocked, and stammered out: "You're really. . . really. . ."

He couldn't get the words out.

Mo Ran gazed at him with narrowed eyes. His smile was barely holding back his smug and cocky demeanour: "You can leave. This chef is going to cook something."

The innkeeper didn’t know that he was talking to the former Lord of Darkness, and he put on a cheeky expression: “I've heard a lot about Jade Wine House's exquisite desserts. I wonder if you would let me have a bite once they're ready?"

He didn't think this was too high of a request. Mo Ran would definitely agree.

Who would've expected Mo Ran to squint his eyes and say with a smirk: "You want some?"

"Hmph!"

"Really?" Mo Ran snorted. He was bursting with pride. He scoffed: "You think I would cook for just anyone? This Venerable One is doing this just for Shi Mei. If not for him, I wouldn't even be lighting a fire to cook. . ."

He flipped a radish over and started to slice it, muttering.

". . ." The innkeeper slumped defeatedly. He rubbed his hands and stood there awkwardly. He halfheartedly chuckled at him then left.

He was also muttering to himself.

This Venerable One? For someone this young, his spiritual core hasn't even fully formed yet. He thought about his chatter and how he was probably referring to his elder sister disciple, but there was no female cultivator among the group who walked with him today.

The innkeeper rolled his eyes.

This person must be deluded.

Mo Ran stayed busy in the kitchen for several hours. It was almost noon when the work was finished, and he rushed upstairs to wake Shi Mei up.

When passing by Chu Wanning's room, he slowly came to a stop.

Should he ask if he wanted to eat together. . .

Thinking of Chu Wanning's harsh temperament, Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat, his face full of contempt.

No, no, no. He only had a few portions. There wasn't enough to share with him!

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years

Text

BTS DRABBLE-Kim Seokjin 🎃

Halloween Series: Ghoul Kim Seokjin

It’s never a good thing to wake up restrained in an unfamiliar place. But it’s even worse when said place is the home of an incredibly good looking, hungry ghoul, who’s set on having you for dinner. And the catch? It’s up to you to convince said ghoul that you’d be better off fulfilling his other needs, rather than the emptiness of his stomach.

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, Halloween, Spooky Season, Kim Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin x you, Seokjin x reader, Ghoul Seokjin

Warning: VERY Brief mentions of drugging, cannibalism (Jin’s a ghoul 💁)

Genre: Dark Fluff, I guess?

Title: Eat Me

(Image Credit: Art Luff)

It’s never a good thing to wake up somewhere unfamiliar.

And it’s definitely not a good thing to wake up restrained in said unfamiliar place.

You have no idea how you got here, wrists fettered above your head to the large oaken table that fills the small room, but you know, in your gut, and by the way your heart is pounding, that it’s definitely not a good thing. And it’s definitely not a coincidence.

“Dammit.” You swear softly under your breath, as you yank at the chains holding you captive. They don’t budge. “Shit.” You swear again, trying to move your ankles, and realizing that they too are held down.

There is a sound that echoes through the open doorway to your right, and you flinch, but no one enters the room. Another sound-this time, the sound of a pot being clanged against another, fills the silence briefly, before there is quiet once more.

“Come on, come on.” You hiss between clenched teeth, twisting your wrists this way and that, but succeeding in nothing more than chafing your skin and pinching your wrists, as you let out a growl of annoyance and pain from between your lips.

Whistling flows through the doorway now, lighthearted and content, and the sound of water running has you craning your neck upward to see if you can get a look into the other room from your bound and prone position on the table.

No luck.

“Dammit!” You say, a little more loudly this time, and the whistling from the other room stops abruptly.

“Shit.” You whisper to yourself, and the sound of footsteps sounds across the tile floor, headed in your direction.

There is no time to do anything. And you couldn’t even if you had wanted to.

“Ah. Awake then?” The voice is silken, curling around your ears like sickly sweet honey, as a tall man appears in the doorway, apron tied around his waist, and damp dishtowel held between two large, long fingered hands.

If this had been any other situation, you may have laughed at his almost comical appearance.

Towering, slim, dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, dark hair slicked carefully back off his forehead, the man is intimidating, but his features-tan and open, and centered by two, beautiful, honey colored eyes-are incredibly handsome, and you find your breath slightly caught in your throat as you stare at him.

The smirk that crosses his full lips, and the comically hideous fabric of his apron, as he steps closer to you, snaps you back to reality quickly, and you furrow your brow, as you shoot him a glare, and tugging at your chained hands, ask sarcastically, “Do you often treat your guests this way?”

“Well.” The smirk widens, and he shrugs in an offhanded way, as he crouches down beside the table, and consequently your head, resting his chin on his folded arms as he stares intently at you with caramel irises. “Only the pretty ones.”

You scoff, looking away from his deep, involved gaze, and swallow hard to wet your suddenly dry mouth. “I met you at the club.” You suddenly turn back to him, shooting him a hard look. “Did you drug me?”

“Please, princess.” He rolls his eyes lightly, appearing slightly offended by your insinuation. “I’m not a barbarian.” White teeth flash past pink lips as he smiles, and holds up a syringe and needle between his fingers for you to see. “I tranquilized you.”

“Oh, that makes it so much better.” You snap back icily, irked even more when he seems to find humor in your annoyance, his plush lips pulling back even farther to reveal the pointed edges of his teeth.

A whistle sounds from the kitchen, and the man stands suddenly, offering you a look of apology as he says simply, “Excuse me for a moment. That’ll be tea.”

He disappears once more into the other room, and your mouth drops open slightly in surprise at his sudden departure.

What the hell is going on?

Who is this guy? And why are you restrained to his table? And most of all, what does he have planned for you?

The man reemerges, and crouching down once more beside you, he cocks his head curiously in your direction, like a cat watching a sparrow. “Now. Where were we.” He snaps long fingers together, and his eyes alight with remembrance. “Ah yes. Let me introduce myself.” He grins at you once more, and the tips of his teeth sink into the pale pink of his lips, making you shiver. “I’m Seokjin.”

“Pleasure.” You say dryly, raising a brow in his direction. “Okay, Seokjin.” You spit his name through a clenched jaw. “Can you tell me why I’m here? And why you have me chained to your table like some medieval torturer?”

Seokjin laughs, and you have to admit, the sound isn’t unpleasant, and the way his lips pull back and his eyes scrunch with the sound of humor leaving his mouth, is not altogether unattractive.

“I like you, princess.” He tilts his head once more, and the smile falls from his lips, and his eyes grow suddenly dark and serious. “It’s quite a shame that I have to eat you.”

Your stomach clenches at his words, but you don’t allow the fear to show on your face, as you swallow, tongue thick in your mouth, and manage to say flatly, “That is a shame. And just when we were getting to know each other.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in a remorseful sound, before he reaches out, and long fingers grasping your chin, turns your head slowly from side to side as he studies you, almost as if he’s picking out a premium cut of meat at the butcher’s.

“It really is though. But you see,” His tongue, red and moist, darts out to flit across his lips, leaving them shining with a sheen of saliva, and his pupils are suddenly wide and dark with hunger and lust as his fingertips stroke down the sides of your captive chin. “You’re just too delicious and delicate a flavor to give up.”

Seokjin’s fingers on your skin should terrify you, especially when he’s talking about eating you-but instead, they make your heart flutter in your chest like a trapped bird against your ribs.

Odd reaction.

“Really?” You ask, curious suddenly, what he means by his last statement. His eyes meet yours, seeming to break from his trance as you speak. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Seokjin rises from his crouched position on the floor, and sitting on the edge of the table beside you, leans over you without warning, bringing your faces inches apart. “You smell divine. And I bet you’ll taste even better.” His voice is low, almost a growl, but a surprisingly pleasant one.

You try not to jump as his hands dig into the table above your head, so close to your own bound wrists that you can feel the heat from his skin, and he leans forward once more, the tip of his nose skimming down the line of your jaw, before following the arch of the column of your throat down to the hollow at your breastbone.

Shit. He smells really good.

“Okay.” You say, slightly breathless, but trying to hide how much his close proximity is affecting you. His scent is making you feel heady and a little bit out of control. “What spices do you use then?”

“Ah. A cook are we, princess?” Seokjin glances up at you, eyes dark and bottomless, pupils blown wide with something you don’t want to name quite yet, his nose still brushing your skin. The corners of his lips pull up into the slightest smirk, and he sighs, before long fingers wrap around one of your wrists, fiddling with the chains there. “Fine. I’ll indulge you.”

Slipping your hand easily out of the now unlocked restraint, he holds your arm out at your side, and leaning over you again, he trails his nose down the sensitive skin of the inside of your arm, pausing at the crook of your elbow to say, lips brushing across your skin, “Something warm, earthy-nutmeg.” He continues to run his nose down the rest of your arm, hovering for a moment above the inside of your wrist, as he takes in a deep, long breath, before saying, “Paprika. And maybe a dash of cinnamon.”

“Are you making a steamer?” You mock, but the sharpness of your voice falls flat. You can’t quite muster up as much venom as you had had earlier.

Seokjin smirks over at you, nose still buried in the delicate skin of your wrist, and then his tongue appears between his parted lips without warning, and laps across the flesh there.

A shiver runs up your spine at the feel of his wet, warm tongue on your body, and you can’t help the slight, soft gasp that escapes from between your lips at the unexpected action.

“Hmmm.” He lets out a sound, something like a mixture of a hum and a groan from beneath his breath, and when he looks at you, his irises are all but swallowed by the greedy, eager black of his blown pupils. “Just how I imagined.”

“Okay, you’ve had your taste.” You quip back, outstretched arm still resting in his large palm, his mouth dangerously close still to your bare skin, breath balmy and stuttered as he exhales. “Now let me taste you.”

Seokjin appears caught off guard by your request. He straightens, quirking his head to the side as he lifts one dark brow in your direction. “I didn’t think humans were into that.”

The way his eyes rove over your features and then down across your body has your cheeks heating with a blush, but you don’t look away from him, his long fingers still wrapped around your wrist, as you say with a slightly embarrassed cough, “Well, we’re not into it in the ways you are.”

“Oh?” Seokjin’s voice is laden with curiosity, but holds a slightly dangerous edge, as he leans in closer to you once more, his hold on your wrist loosening and falling away, as he plants his hands, palm down, against the table above your head once more. You cannot escape his close, hot gaze as he stares down at you, studying you, pinning you with his stare, his tongue appearing once more to wet his pillowed lips, before he hums out beneath his breath, “Whatever do you want from me then, princess, hmm?”

You swallow. Your mouth feels suddenly dry, and your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears, that his voice sounds muted and distant, even though he’s literally on top of you, and you think-no you’re sure-you must be crazy for what you’re about to do next.

But you do it anyway.

Reaching up with your free hand, you pinch the garish fabric of Seokjin’s apron straps between your fingers across his broad chest, and use them to drag him down toward you, and ignoring the look of surprise that flashes across his ridiculously handsome features, and without another thought for the doubt that hammers loudly at the forefront of your mind, you slot your lips between his.

Surprisingly, Seokjin does not pull away. And surprisingly, he’s not all that stiff either.

And even more surprising-holy shit-he’s a really, really good kisser.

There is a brief moment of hesitation on his part, and then his mouth envelops yours, hot and insistent.

Seokjin is not a delicate, romantic kisser-no, he is rough-all edges and bumping teeth and dominant control.

His hands, resting above your head, tangle into your hair, and without warning, he wrenches your head back, and his tongue slips between your parted lips to intertwine with your own, the combination of the two things causing you to let out a soft, breathy moan from between your teeth.

Seokjin growls, low and primitive beneath his breath, in response to your obviously positive reaction to him, and he grows bolder, pointed ends of his teeth nipping into the sensitive skin of your already swollen lips.

Your free hand cups the back of his neck, burying into the dark locks of hair there, as you desperately pull him closer to you, and your other hand-the one still restrained at the wrist-itches to be free and tracing down the sharp lines of his strong jaw.

Seokjin must hear the jangle of the chain as your fingers grasp desperately at the cool metal, because he pulls back, just an inch away from your mouth, lips still brushing hotly across yours as he murmurs throatily, breath sending goosebumps across your skin where it brushes across your face, “Want me to let you free, princess?”

“That depends.” You reply breathlessly, voice hitching slightly in your throat, as his lips drag across the path of your jaw and down to the juncture of your shoulder. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Oh.” He smirks, you feel it against your skin, and his teeth, sharp and cool and wet, nip at the flesh at the base of your throat now, your heart pounding wildly beneath the touch of his mouth. “I’m still going to eat you.”

Your breath catches, and he looks up at you, pupils black and bottomless, but this time, there is something else-something almost human-swirling in the bronze irises that encircle the ebony, endless holes. His pink lips pull back into a sharp toothed smile. “Just not in the way I had originally planned.”

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