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that-lazy-snail · 1 year

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Being a fan of Avatar (the movie with blue people) is literally the most exhausting fan experience I've ever had, and I'm a female Star Wars fan, who's favorite Star Wars movie is The Last Jedi.

I'm by no means claiming that the movie is flawless or even "great" but it is by scifi blockbuster standards pretty good. It's no more or less racist than the Star Wars prequels and the writing isn't any worse than the scriptwriting in the Star Wars prequels either, yet it's treated with such disdain among people on the internet that I can't even talk about it without receiving random hateful comments.

I cosplay from the movie, more specifically the new movie and an OC that I designed in 2018. I love the movie, especially the visual elements and the design of the Na'vi and their culture, I think it's a fascinating metaphor for our treatment of indigenous peoples and our planet, I love the themes the film presents. But I'm also aware that it's harmful to indigenous people as well because it promotes a white savior narrative, that it's harmful to disabled people by promoting the narrative that they can't live full lives unless they're normative. I don't deny those problems with the movie, and I have plenty of criticisms of the new film as well. Particularly the use of locks on Jake and Spider, and I saw a video on tiktok complaining about that and I left a comment saying that I really wish they hadn't done that and I thought it was a really poor styling choice since up until that point none of the Na'vi we'd seen have locks so it doesn't logically make sense to give them that hair style. I got quite a bit of response to that comment, some people agreeing with me but largely people were saying, "why do you cosplay it then?" "why do you support it then?" like is it not okay to like things and also have criticism for them? I'm allowed to like things about it and also not like things about it.

I also keep seeing videos saying that Avatar has no cultural impact, that it doesn't have a long lasting fan base despite having lore comparable to Lord of the Rings. Here's the thing with that, it totally does have lore comparable to Lord of the Rings but the fan base can't thrive like LOTR fans or even Star Trek could partially because the internet wasn't a space in the same way then as it was when Avatar came out and the other fact is the sheer amount of shaming and harassment that Avatar fans get. I've seen people leave the fandom because of the hate they received on the internet. They quite literally get bullied out of their enjoyment of the movie. People say that Avatar has no fans, but it's fans are chronically silent and reclusive in our liking of the film for fear of getting harassed. I am part of Facebook groups of that have thousands of members and a very active discord. Avatar fans exist, they just keep low and quiet so as to protect themselves. I know people who speak Na'vi in the same way people speak elvish or klingon, it's just not something we advertise because every time we try to share our enjoyment of the movie we get mean comments or mocking stitches/remixes of our videos, pictures, etc. It's not fun to be a public Avatar fan, it's scary and exhausting.

I love Avatar, Neytiri was one of the first truly strong and inspirational female characters I connected with as a child (I was 9 when the movie came out) and I was fascinated and enthralled with the world of Pandora, as were so many movie goers. I'm so tired of getting railed on for enjoying this movie, or even just the constant ridicule that comes through my feed about it. What happened to the golden rule of if you don't have anything nice to say (or on this case even anything that provides new/valuable commentary/criticism) don't say anything at all?

I'm so sick of hearing the same arguments I've heard a million times about why it's a retread plot of Pocahontas/Dances With Wolves/Ferngully, I've heard it all before, I've seen those movies before and their plots are in myths and any number of other stories, that's not why I love the movie. No amount of people saying that to me will change what I do like about the Avatar. I don't watch Avatar for the plot, I watch it for Pandora, and for the visual spectacle and the world building.

I'm sick of the argument that Avatar's treatment of indigenous voices is somehow worse than any other piece of media written by and for white communities, it's not. Even Avatar the Last Airbender (which is my favorite TV show of all time and is often acclaimed as a great example of native representation) also falls failure to the same mistake of casting white actors in POC roles and changing the narratives of natives to be more easily accepted and understood by white audiences. This is not to say that ATLA doesn't handle its message better than Avatar, but it's important to be aware of the ways in which all media has flaws, even the things we think are less problematic and it's important to acknowledge them and not tear the media down for it, but use it as means to make new media better. Cameron did improve with the Way of Water, he frequently consulted with the Maori tribes he was pulling inspiration from, there's literally articles written by Maori tribe members on it but it is still a white people movie, written by white people for white people so do with that what you will. But don't claim star wars is any better, the prequels were outrageously racist, and they still maintain majority white casts.

The new Avatar movie (the way of water) is not perfect, there are quite a few things I found to be poor choices in regards to cultural sensitivity (aka locks, and casting Kate Winslet as Ronal instead of a Polynesian actress) but it's still better than it's predecessor, and unlike so many people on the internet say, it is not "a bunch of white people playing poc" since neither Zoe Saldana, nor Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, or any of the Metkayina children or Cliff Curtis are white. In fact, Cliff Curtis is Maori, the culture that inspired the Metkayina and many of the extras who play background Na'vi in the films are POC, because in spite of James Cameron's failings, he did want the Na'vi to be played by people of color. Very very few of the Na'vi in the original movie are played by white people, only a few extras with less than 1 minute of screen time and no lines. All the major Na'vi roles were played by people of black and indigenous color. Eytukan was played by a Cherokee native, Mo'at (these people are the two clan leaders) is played by a indigenous woman from Africa and is very black. Zoe Saldana's parents are Dominican and Puerto Rican for god's sake! She is not white. This argument that he casts white people in POC roles is untrue. The Avatars are white cause they're meant to represent the invadors, wolf in sheep's clothing if you will. The Na'vi are bipoc, and they're played by bipoc.

After Avatar, James went to Brazil and became and activist for native communities. He went worked with Brazilian natives fighting the building of a dam over their local river, a dam with would power a major city in Brazil, but destroy the indigenous peoples access to water. He went to their community, and asked them what he could do to help. He donated money, protested, ran conferences and tried to disrupt the building of the dam using his influence, but it failed, and he had to watch the suffering of this indigenous tribe that he'd grown very close to in their time working together to prevent the dam. He's not Anti-indigenous as people love to claim, he's clumsy and arrogant (like all cis white men) but what he does is an attempt to elevate native voices not smother them even if he doesn't necessarily succeed.

The movie isn't the menace to society people portray it as, nor is it as boring or uncompelling as people claim. But I still can't go online to enjoy it because no matter what I say, I like it too much for "a bad movie" or I'm "too supportive of something harmful" although I still see people buying Harry Potter merchandise in the Barnes and Noble and I'd argue JK Rowling is an actively bigoted individual who's words and paychecks actively harm marginalized communities, unlike Cameron who despite his bumbling is trying his best and actually learning and doing better with the new content he puts out.

People also say things like, "You only like it cause you're white, no POC people like Avatar." which is blatantly untrue, I've seen native people who like it, black people who like it, I have black friends who like it, I know a black cosplayer who cosplays from it. In fact, I know more poc who cosplay from it than white people. Everyone is entitled to their opinion of the film, and should be allowed to interact with it without getting harassed. It's just exhausting to like it, so people don't say they do.

I'm tired of even the things that should be praised about the new film being used as a way to tear it down. Cameron said in an interview that he "likes Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman as characters but they're not mom's" when asked why he chose to make Neytiri a mother. Neytiri's motherhood doesn't detract from her warrior-ness, she's still a badass bitch and I think that's the point that this person on tiktok clearly missed. He wasn't saying you need women to be moms to be heros, but how many warrior women who are also mothers can you think of off the top of your head? I can't think of any. The choice to make Neytiri a badass mom wasn't to detract from single or childless female characters but to provide even more diversity in the kinds of strong female characters out there. I loved that 1/2 the cast of that movie was women, just as I loved Neytiri in the first film.

In conclusion, can we please stop making Avatar fans lives hell on the internet. I do my own research about how it is and isn't problematic and make my own decisions, I don't need strangers to yell at me. I just want to enjoy my silly ecoscifi movie about blue aliens. I'm aware of its issues and I do my best to raise awareness of the issues facing real natives, to engage with real native stories and voices and support their protests, legal persuits, tribal sovereignty, land back etc, and be the best ally I can be, but I'm not going to boycot this movie because it does some problematic stuff, or because it has an unoriginal plot, if I did that I could never watch another marvel movie again (and yes they're just as bad if you dig, look at the early ones especially) I'm so sick of the insane amount of factually unsupported hate this movie gets and of having to deal with it. I'm tired, I just want to enjoy my movie which is no worse than any other white backed and driven Hollywood blockbuster.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #james cameron #avatar james cameron

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justanagenderperson · 7 months

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Can I ask a fluff romantic Fic of Agent 47 x gender neutral reader, where the reader is recovering from an ear injury and the reader was doubting that their injury would burden 47? I love your work, keep it up!

YES U CAN ASK I WILL WRITE RAAAAHHHHH THX FOR THE RQ!!! Sorry it's short, I haven't written in a bit. Also ty have kith-

GN!Reader x Agent 47

TWs: Romance⁉️⁉️😳, Ear injury, Established Relationship, Demeaning Thoughts, Fluff, I'm not a doctor so sorry if any of the medical stuff is wrong

[Very sorry if this isn't what you wanted I tried my best but I'm a little rusty]

To put it plainly this sucked.

You're acutely aware of the silicone plug nestled within your right ear. Your nose felt slightly stuffy and all in all you felt like shit, just because you decided to visit your boyfriend with no ear protection. It was a foolish oversight on your part really, your boyfriend hadn't sensed you coming in- his usually heightened senses probably still recovering from the new introduction of serum running through his veins-. Due to this, you stepped in right as he fired his silverballer- not at you of course- however the loud noise of the shot was enough to rupture your ear. You didn't even know what happened until he rushed over to your side lightly yet tentatively holding your face, a look of worry flashing in the hitman's normally calm, cold eyes as he assessed the damage.

All while you were processing what was happening 47 made a vow to never injure you like that ever again. Even if it was accidental, he still felt extremely guilty. This brings you to the present with your head tilted sideways against 47's lap as he squirts the antibiotic drops into your ear canal. You nervously fidget with your hands moving uncomfortably at the cold liquid invading your ear as your mind is plagued with horrible, horrible, thoughts, 'What if he thinks you to be too much and leaves you?' And 'What if he's just tolerating you and this is the last straw?' You're drawn out of your thoughts at the sound of a cap being twisted ontop the bottle. Ah. He must be done. You sit up propping yourself up against the couch.

You realize 47 has been staring at you feeling holes burning in the side of your head, "Is something wrong?" He finally asks. You look at your boyfriend slightly surprised. He had always been especially good at reading people but still, it somehow managed to catch you off guard, "I uh, no-" A suspicious raise of the eyebrow from the hitman, "-...I mean yeah..." You finally spit out averting your gaze, finding the floor to be a way more interesting view than his majestic blue eyes, 'Maybe he finally got sick of you?' You're startled out of your train of thought once again as a hand comes to rest upon your shoulder. Your eyes flicker towards the culprit only to feel the tension leave your body, "What is it?" The agent asks in a soft yet low voice.

Your mouth opens and then closes before you shake your head, "I...I just..." Looking back up you see your boyfriend listening intently- no judgemental stare or gaze- just your boyfriend. You deeply intake a breath, "Am I...in your way...?" The hitman tenses up as if he wasn't expecting such a question. You knew it. But before you can let your imagination run wild he speaks again, "No, why would you think that?" He asks reaching his hand out to gently grab yours he brushes his thumb over the inside of your palm in what you think is meant to be a comforting gesture but only proves to cause bees to buzz in your stomach jabbing aggressively at the inside. He's pitying you, I mean you must look pathetic. Your spacing out must've been apparent because his grip gets firmer,

"I love you." You look at him, "I love you." He says again. You stare into his eyes for any signs of deceit yet find none however as much as you want to believe him- a small part of you refuses to cave- you nod slowly unsure of yourself. He must realize this because suddenly without warning he hugs you wrapping around you in a protective embrace. You tense for a moment before returning the gesture. You close your eyes simply drinking in the moment. The smell of his natural scent mixed in with the hint of his cologne soothes you. You don't know how long the two of you stay like that simply holding one another but it's warm, comforting. You finally find yourself beginning to believe his words even if just a little as you and him enjoy each other's company.

[Hope u enjoyed!^^ reminder to eat, hydrate, and SLEEP!]

#agent 47 x reader #gn reader #agent 47 #hitman woa

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ellewritesalright · 1 year

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Nine Long Years - Part 4/?

Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 5 --- Part 6

Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.

Author's Note: Hi there! This one is a little nicer and less sad so hope you enjoy. Next part won't be out for a while I'm afraid. I've got a lot of work to do as the semester is almost done so I gotta grind w that.

Warnings: mentions of death, angst but also fluff, unconsciousness, blood, mentions of sickness, panic attacks, firepox, mentions of the Hertzoon con.

Word Count: 5,570

..........

FOURTH YEAR

It was getting easier to pretend to be newlyweds. Every second spent with Nikolai kissing your hand or resting a palm against your waist only served to endear you to him, especially when he would grin at you like a schoolboy. You were still masquerading as the Ivanovs, Pytor and Ilse, and you called each other such when in the company of strangers. But when you were alone, no matter how weird it felt, you started calling him Nikolai.

It happened because of an inquiry he made on the road to the village you were currently stationed in. He glanced at you from under his cap, a curious smile playing at his lips.

“Why do you keep calling me Sturmhond?” he asked.

"What else would I call you?" You retorted.

"My real name, perhaps?"

"Doesn't sound right," you said. "Sturmhond suits you."

"You're not wrong, but remember what I told you when you found out?"

"Sturmhond at sea, Prince Nikolai in Ravka.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you really want me to call you 'your Highness' now? Even though we're miles and miles and a gargantuan Shadow Fold away from Os Alta?"

"No need for that formality. Just Nikolai will do." He smiled at you. "Except when we're around others. We have appearances to keep up, you know."

So, despite how difficult it was and how odd it felt, you called him Nikolai when the two of you were alone.

At present, his cap was tucked low over his face, trying to hide the changing colour of his eyes. He was more different every day, and you took the quiet of dinnertime as an opportunity to look him over. His jaw and mouth remained the same, though you doubted they had been tailored in the first place; his nose was straightening ever so slightly, but it still looked like he had seen his fair share of fighting; his hair had all but turned blonde, save for a few red highlights; and now his eyes were becoming murky. You hadn't figured out their real colour yet, but you thought maybe they would be a dark gray or a chocolate brown.

Whatever they were, they would undoubtedly complement his admittedly handsome face.

"Lost in my eyes, my dear?" He asked, catching your stare.

You cleared your throat, eyes darting away. Honesty might be best in this situation. "Just wondering what colour they really are."

You had no qualms saying this aloud as your dinner was a picnic at a secluded park on the edge of town. There was hardly anyone around, and the closest people were far from being in earshot.

"In that case, I think I'll leave you in suspense," he said.

"If that's what you want." You combed your fingers through the grass beneath your hands. "Tell me again when we should meet Tamar and Tolya."

He received a message that afternoon through an informant in his network. The twins were safe in Novokribirsk, somewhere you were supposed to be very soon if your navigator–Nikolai–would have a bit more focus on the destination and not the journey.

"No later than Saturday," he said, sprawling out in front of you. When he laid his head in your lap you rolled your eyes. “They’re staying at one of my associate’s homes. We’re to meet them there.”

It was Thursday now, and you had been without the twins for a week, not a couple days as Nikolai had initially said. You missed Tolya's bear hugs and Tamar's quick wit. Nikolai was a decent stand-in for both of them, though your relationship with him felt different from your relationship with the twins. You would never go to Tolya for comfort like you would with Nikolai, and Tamar's teasing and jokes didn't get on your nerves unlike those of a certain privateer prince. Additionally, if either twin wanted to rest their head in your lap you would have accepted them with a smile, but you only felt a quick bout of cynicism for Nikolai.

His eyes were shut, and you figured he must still be tired from comforting you the other night. He looked peaceful, like he could be content laying there forever. A strand of half-red-half-golden hair peeked out from his cap, begging for attention as it splayed across his forehead. You tucked it back into the brim with delicate fingers, tracing along the bottom of his cap. When your hand dropped he opened his eyes in a languid sweep. His smile was soft.

“Read to me?” he asked, his hand fumbling for the basket where the Old Ravkan book was waiting.

In all your boredom the two of you had already finished the book and started it over. You were halfway through, and you held the light, malleable book in one hand as you lost yourself in the words. Your other hand was resting beside you until Nikolai brought it close to him, his fingers dancing across your palm, twisting the ring--his ring--on your finger and interlocking his digits with yours.

A feather-light brush of something against your knuckles made you lose your focus as you reached one of the more interesting parts of the story. You expected to grow angry at him for making you pause, but when you glanced down and saw him grazing your hand against his lips you didn’t know what to feel.

He had kissed your hand before in a crowded town square or during dinner at a pub, but it was only ever when you were in public, only to keep up appearances. This was different. There was no one around, no one to be suspicious of two people in a park, so why was he being so affectionate?

Of course, it was obvious why. Nikolai liked you. He had expressed this to you on several occasions, but you had always brushed him aside. His feelings were there, a shadow behind every single one of his actions, even when he was being less obvious. There were the winks and flirtations, but then there were the times he gave you a genuine smile, told you to keep safe when you had to be apart, or held you close as you sobbed into his shoulder. He was quietly expressing his fondness on the regular.

Perhaps--in your own way--you’d done the same. You straightened out his cap, made him button his jacket to the top to keep away the autumn chill, and read to him in your shared bed each night. But those were all completely normal things, you were sure of it.

You knew how he felt about you, but you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. Worse still, if you felt some kind of affection for him, what could you do about it? Your extended reprieve from the Volkvolny didn’t change the fact that he was captain and you were his second. It would be wrong to start a relationship with him.

And then there was the fact that--above all--Nikolai was a prince. He had duties that he would one day have to return to, and there was no place for you in his life when he did.

But the more you thought about being with him the more right it felt.

That realization scared you more than anything else, but you couldn’t stop it from spreading like weeds in a garden. Some weeds are quite pretty, a voice in your mind argued.

He looked up at you with those murky eyes, a hint of interest in his brow. “Why have you stopped reading, my dear?”

The pet name was an unintentionally cruel stroke, a sweet utterance that only added insult to injury. You pulled your hand from his and began packing things in the basket. “It’s getting late,” you said. “We should go back to the inn before nightfall.”

“I didn’t think you were scared of the dark,” he teased, sitting up to help you. There was a worry in his voice even if he tried to cloak it in humour. He knew your secrets now, your past, and he might have thought that had something to do with your eagerness to sleep with a roof over your head, but that was far from your mind at that moment.

You weren’t scared of the dark, only what could happen in it. People lost their wits at night, got swept up in any hint of tenderness, and you were determined that it wouldn’t happen to you.

When you got back to the inn you went to sleep on the edge of the bed, keeping your distance from him. He noticed it–because saints knew he always noticed everything–but he made no mention of it. He kept to his side, and you kept to yours. Simple.

……….

On most days, there wasn't much to do in these Ravkan villages, but–luckily for you and Nikolai–one of the days you were stuck happened to fall on a fete celebrating Sankta Lizabeta. The village you were stopped in had bright, floral decor, and children crowded in front of a travelling puppet show. Nikolai insisted that the two of you watch the puppets perform, even going so far as to hold your hand so that you would remain with him. He flashed you a smile as you leaned against him to get a better view through the crowd.

The puppets were ridiculous, and you grew confused as you tried to follow whatever grandiose plot they were trying to convey, yet the children packed at the front of the crowd seemed entertained. Leaning against Nikolai was necessary to stave off the weariness that accompanied this convoluted story.

It was once you rested your head against him that he whispered to you. "Are you tired? We can go to our room and rest."

"I'm fine," you said. "I just have no idea what the puppets are trying to say."

He chuckled. "It's the story of Sankta Lizabeta."

Nikolai muttered narration into your ear as the puppets kept on, and he drew some smiles from you with his commentary.

"Understandably, Lizabeta was pissed, so she thought 'bees will solve all of my troubles.'"

"Never mess with a woman and her bees."

"Quite an overreaction on the northern village's part. They should've just understood that summoning bees isn't a party trick."

The show finished and Nikolai tipped the performers with a shiny coin, then you took your leave.

It was a small village, but the walk down to the inn was not brief, especially not when Nikolai was taking his sweet time–no wonder you had yet to make it to Novokribirsk. He still had his hand in yours, and he made you trail along with him as he strolled down a hill. You felt a nagging sense to pull at him or drop his hand and go ahead without him, but you didn't.

It might have been his slow pace that landed you in trouble. Or it could have been the fact that he was distracted. He was once more bringing your hand to his lips, his stare on your face as he pressed a quick kiss to your skin. Then he kissed your hand again, this time for a moment longer. He was testing the waters, seeing how much he could get away with before you made him stop. He had barely pressed his lips to the inside of your wrist when you heard it.

The clambering of rickety wheels came suddenly. A carriage with no horse or rider came burning down the hill towards you. Nikolai glanced back, noticing its descent a split second before you did. In the moment he acted as quickly as he could, shoving you to the side of the path.

He couldn't move himself fast enough, though, and the carriage struck him. He was knocked beneath it, smack dab between the wheels, and it continued on without crushing him, thank the saints. The carriage was gone by the time you rushed to his side.

Nikolai was sprawled on the ground, his eyes shut. He wasn't moving.

There was a familiarity to the situation as you kneeled over his unconscious body. The smell of death creeped up your nose and into your head, muddying your thoughts.

But now was not the time for death. You fought off a sob as you shook his shoulders, trying to rouse him awake. When that was unsuccessful you felt for a pulse that could not be found, watching to see if his chest was rising and falling. It wasn't.

Years ago, when you were a sailor on a few trade ships before the Volkvony, you had witnessed otkazat'sya sailors revive people who had almost drowned by pumping their hands against the unconscious person's chest and breathing into their mouth. That sort of thing wasn't necessary on the Volkvolny because of the corporalniks; they could start a person's heart with the wave of a hand.

You were not Grisha, though, so you would have to help Nikolai the otkazat'sya way.

Laying one hand over the other on his chest, you began pumping with quick and hard motions. You kept a focused eye on his face, checking for any twitches of life. After thirty pumps, you bent over his face, plugging his nose and breathing into his mouth. It wasn't how you imagined being this close to him for the first time, but you did it nonetheless, giving him two large breaths.

You were no stranger to death. It seemed to dog your life, stealing your parents and brothers from you without hesitation. What you had done to warrant such grim circumstances, you didn't know. Maybe you were an abhorrent person in another life. Maybe the saints decided to torment you for their own entertainment. You couldn't explain why death always accompanied you, but today you were determined to banish it. Nikolai wasn't going to die on your watch, you wouldn't let him. You kept pumping.

Every second that he lay unconscious you got more desperate, your hands pressing harder and harder as you tried to restart his systems. You pushed back his cap as you bent to breathe into his mouth again. His golden hair shone atop of his head, the red completely gone. There was a cut on his forehead just above his eye that was slowly bleeding, but you couldn't bother with it now. Your vision was clouding with tears and you blinked them away as you kept on. They dripped on his cheek as you breathed into his mouth again. Then it was back to pumping.

"C'mon," you said, more to yourself than to the man before you. "You can't leave me now." Your arms were starting to tire, but you kept on anyways. "Nikolai, you stupid, impossibly aggravating prince, wake up."

His body jolted, and then he was coughing, his eyes crinkling as his face scrunched up in discomfort. A weight lifted off of you and you pulled him into your arms, squeezing him tight. He grunted at the ferocity of your grip and you eased up, muttering a quick apology.

"Thank the saints, you're alive," you said, kissing the crown of his head in a moment of relief.

"I didn't know... you cared so much about me," he rasped.

He struggled with his breathing a bit, the wind knocked out of him, but it was good to know that the accident had not knocked the humour out of him. You let yourself chuckle at his joke, pressing another kiss to his head.

"Never scare me like that again," you ordered, rubbing your eyes. He noticed this and grabbed your hand.

As though he wasn't just nearly crushed to death, he continued where he left off during your walk, bringing his lips to the inside of your wrist in a soft kiss.

"Yes, dear," he said.

You used your sleeve to dab at the bloody cut on his forehead. It wasn't too deep, but it would need to be cleaned properly once you got back to the inn. He gave you a smile. "You're improving."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're getting better at saving my life."

You frowned. "I shouldn't have to improve at that."

He only hummed in response, shutting his eyes and leaning more of his weight against you. "I think you bruised my ribs."

"I save your life only for you to complain? Next time I'll leave you alone, then."

"But what would you do without me?"

"Relish in the return of quiet."

"Sounds boring."

"Sounds peaceful."

He winced as you helped him sit up, and you wished you'd been blessed with the abilities of a corporalki healer so that you could make his pain vanish like a street magician with a coin. He was barely sitting by the time another carriage came along, this time with a horse and driver. with its open top and drab rectangular shape, it was really more of a cart. It stopped beside you, the driver peering down at you two with pity in his eyes. Half a dozen tiny heads leaned over the side of the cart to stare at you in fascination.

"The carriage that hit your husband probably belonged to old man Arkezny. He never ties up his horses, then they get loose and his carriage takes off whichever direction it pleases," the man said after you told him of your accident. "You can come with us. We pass the inn on our way home."

The driver and his rambunctious children had been at the fete all day, all of them watching the puppets just as you had. Nikolai made conversation with the litter like a professional, even despite the injuries that had him leaning against you as though you were a sturdy column; you were neither, and every time the cart lurched you could feel him tense up in pain, though he did not show it on the outside. He kept laughing with the children and telling them stories about sailing--under the pretense that Pytor Ivanov was a merchant sailor, not a privateer called Sturmhond.

When you arrived at the inn you thanked the kind man profusely, and he merely smiled in return and headed home with his family.

Despite the subtle pain you saw on his face, Nikolai made no complaints as you helped him to your room and made him lay back in bed. You borrowed some supplies from the innkeeper then fetched a bowl of warm water and a cloth for his wounds. Nikolai was patient as you sat beside him and cleaned up the blood from his forehead, employing what little experience you had soothing your brothers' various cuts and scrapes.

"You're wonderful, did you know that?" He grinned at you as you dabbed along his cut.

You only hummed in response, forcing yourself to focus on your work and not get caught on his words.

"Truly," he drawled, "you're wonderful, clever, and kind." Nikolai reached for your hand as it swept the last bit of blood. You met his soft stare. "And you're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Nikolai," you tsked quietly, as though in a weak admonishment.

He interrupted before you could state your point. "I like when you say my real name."

"Did that carriage give you a concussion?"

He chuckled. "No, rather the opposite. I'd say it knocked some sense into me."

He played with your fingers, traced along his ring that was still on your hand. You hadn't taken it off once since he slipped it onto your hand in that pub; you even kept it on as you slept. He smiled at it, his eyes glancing up at you.

You realized then how close you were as you sat there beside him, leg pressed against his and his fingers entwined with yours. You could feel his breath lightly warming your face, creeping down your neck and making your chest flood with heat. The heartbeat in your ears was louder than the whip of wind when the Hummingbird was in mid-air.

Nikolai leaned forward slightly, getting even closer to you in a movement that would have made his injuries sting. But he didn’t show any pain, he was only staring at your lips with hooded eyes. His hand went to your face, his thumb tracing along the apple of your cheek in featherlight strokes. And when he spoke it was a whisper.

"Tell me to stop," he begged. "Swear at me in Kerch. Call me a fucking scoundrel again. Please."

"Isn't this what you want?" Your voice was so breathless you felt you ought to be ashamed. But you weren't. Cold shame didn't bother you when you were burning under his vulnerable eyes and the slight press of his thigh against yours.

"It is," he said, searching your face. “Saints, it is. But I need to know you want this too.”

You took a second to look at him. He was already quite a handsome man, but he was a beautiful, devilish sight with his cheeks flushed and pupils blown out. You wanted to remember this moment; if only you could capture the air between you and decorate yourself with its passion again and again.

But you took too long to respond, and he pulled away. He hardly dropped his hand and turned his chin before you grabbed his face and kissed him. It was tender, if quick, and you were pleased to find that Nikolai's lips were as delicate as you'd imagined them to be.

"I want this too," you said as you briefly pulled apart. "More than anything."

"You've no idea how happy I am to hear that."

He grinned, pulled you close, and kissed you again. He held your kiss for longer, and when you pulled apart he kept you close still, his forehead pressed to yours. You took a second to look at his eyes, noting how they’d settled into a green and brown mixture. You never would have guessed they would turn out hazel.

“Your eyes are very nice,” you said quietly.

He smiled bashfully, his forehead slipping from yours as he bowed his head in a modesty you’d never seen from him. “Thank you.”

“And your hair…the blonde suits you.”

His cheeks grew rosy. “What else do you like about me?”

You traced a finger along his lips. “I quite like these.”

“That’s good, 'cause I think they go quite well with these,” he said, his thumb brushing along your mouth.

“I think so too,” you said. “Though I will say, your mouth can be impossibly irritating sometimes.”

He leaned back, meeting your eyes. "So far you've called me an idiot, a twat, impossibly irritating, and a fucking scoundrel. It's a good thing I like you, else I could have you locked in a Ravkan prison for saying such treasonous things."

You swept a hand through his hair, pecked a kiss on the tip of his nose. "I never said anything you didn't deserve."

"Perhaps." He flashed a diplomatic smile. "I may need an apology though. My pride is a bit bruised.”

“Will a kiss suffice?”

He hummed, gently thumbing at your lips again. “Only one way to find out.”

……….

It took another day in the village for Nikolai to recover, but once he was more mobile and not completely dependent on you, you continued your journey to Novokribirsk. It took all day with one stop for lunch, but you finally made it to the city.

You had a cheery reunion with the twins. Tolya gave you the tightest hug you’d ever experienced, and Tamar laughed as she brought you in as well. She was a little more gentle, but only a little. They both missed you, and they missed Nikolai of course. They didn’t squeeze him quite as tight as you warned them of his injuries.

“We’ll have him fixed up after dinner,” Tolya said, poking at Nikolai’s gold hair. He looked at you. “Quick thinking with the manual heart pumping, Rietveld.”

You nodded your thanks, and the four of you made your way to get food. Nikolai and Tolya fell into step beside one another ahead of you and Tamar stuck beside you, updating you about what she and her brother got up to while you’d been separated. They seemed to do pretty well by themselves, but she said they missed you and your shared captain as the trifles of sibling life drove her up the wall a couple of times.

“And how about you two, how did you fare?” she asked.

You blinked at her. “Fine. Yeah, it was fine.”

“That’s good,” she said, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Rietveld!” Nikolai cheered over his shoulder. “Tolya doesn’t believe that there was a fete at the town we stayed in the other day.”

“I only said I couldn’t believe you let me miss it!” Tolya defended himself. “I love a good fete, especially a fete for saints. They always have the best food.”

“Well, I promise you didn’t miss much,” you told the heartrender.

“Only my near-death.” Nikolai gave you a teasing pout that evaporated into his shimmering grin. You quickly glanced at Tolya, spotting an odd look he threw to his sister. “And a rather fun puppet show. But otherwise, I agree with my second.”

You watched Nikolai turn back around and continue a new topic with Tolya, listening as best as you could from your slight distance, but enjoying the prattle nonetheless. He looked back at you a few times, smiling brighter than the sun every time he did.

You didn’t notice how long you kept staring at Nikolai until Tamar let out a scoff from beside you. When you snapped your head to her she gave you a suspicious look.

"What, is there something on my face?" You asked.

"Actually, yeah," she said, and laughed when you rubbed at your cheek. "Saints, Rietveld, I only meant to point out that you're grinning."

"Am I not allowed to grin?"

"You're allowed. But it's a little funny that you're grinning at the same time that your heart is beating incredibly loud. Even more funny that both these things happen whenever your travel companion up there glances back at you."

You pursed your lips. "He's looking back at both of us, just making sure we're all still together."

"I assure you, he's not looking at me." She tilted her head at you, lowering her voice just a touch more. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No."

"Your heart skips when you lie."

"Tamar," you whined.

She raised her hands. "I don’t judge. If something happened–perhaps something romantic–I'm happy for you, both of you."

The arrival at a restaurant halted the conversation, but you gave an appreciative press of your hand to Tamar’s shoulder.

……….

After dinner the four of you stayed with the associate of Nikolai's. But your host only had two free single beds, which you insisted Tamar and Tolya take. That left one couch and a few blankets on the floor of the living room for you and Nikolai, but neither of you minded; there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between you that you would be sleeping together from now on, so if that meant you were sleeping on the floor, then so be it.

The pair of you laid out the blankets on the floor after the others had all gone to bed. You paused for a moment, your eyes following Nikolai as he fluffed his pillow. You absentmindedly carded a finger through his golden hair.

“You really have to go red again?” You asked him.

He set down his pillow and turned to you. “Yes, my dear.”

You sat down on the blankets, glancing at Nikolai. “I suppose that’s alright. Sturmhond is pretty handsome.”

“I’m glad you think so. You’ll be seeing him for a while after tomorrow.”

You didn't mind that, his tailored appearance was just as attractive as his true form, though you were a little attached to his hazel eyes and blonde hair. But he was returning to an image you were also familiar with, so it couldn't be bad.

“So," you began. "Tamar knows about you and me.”

“I figured she would.” He eased onto his back, beckoning you to join him. "Was she tough on you?"

You shimmied nearer to him. "No, she was fine, just teased me a little."

"Couldn't be worse than Tolya's reaction."

"Tolya knows?"

"He's a heartrender too, remember? I don't imagine he wouldn’t know." He drew his thumb over your knuckles. "He kept quoting poetry and saying I should speak the passages to you to 'further your attraction to me.'"

"Please don't ever quote one of Tolya's passages to me."

"I can't make any promises. One of his poems was actually quite sweet."

You sidled up to Nikolai, hugging around his middle and relishing in him and the warmth he emanated. You pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Let's hear it, then."

His words reverberated through your head as you lay there on his chest. The rumbling gave you peace, and you closed your eyes. You'd never been as calm and content as this. You might just have to thank Nikolai for the tranquility he brought you. But before he finished his poem, before you could tell him how peaceful he made you, you drifted off to sleep, only Nikolai on your mind.

..........

FOURTH YEAR - KAZ

The streets of Ketterdam weren't particularly crowded as Kaz made his way to the Crow Club. He passed by the Fifth Harbour, stopping for a moment to stare at the ships and schooners. He would still be early for his work if he stayed there for a couple minutes. Besides, it hadn't been a spectacular week of business at the Crow club, just the usual, and he knew he wouldn't be missed if he was only on time and not fifteen minutes early as he usually was.

He was glad to have a job and a place with the Dregs. His job was fine, not great, and he worked hard to make himself known among the liars and cheats whose world he had entered. But Kaz wanted more.

He was thirteen and hungry. He hadn't felt the pangs of starvation since joining the Dregs, but he felt a similar ache as he watched men like his leader, Per Haskell, build his empire on the backs of people like Kaz. He saw these men and he saw their weak spots, the tremours in their brows and the softness in their hearts; they would topple one day, someone just had to pull the rug out from beneath them.

But Kaz was patient. He wasn't his brother, rushing into Pekka Rollins trap under the pretense that he and his siblings could make a fortune off their small inheritance. Kaz had a determination that would see him through. And one day, he would be strong enough to be a leader with riches his siblings never could have dreamed of.

Kaz surveyed the rotting docks and run-down schooners bobbing in the water of the Fifth Harbour. It was a shame the spot wasn't nicer; properly fixed up, it would be a great location for tourists and merchandise to flood into the Barrel. It killed him a little to wonder how much money there was to be made here, how much potential was being overlooked.

He watched one of the ship's masts as it nudged side to side in the wind. It was blustery nights like this that he pictured his sister on one of those schooners, sailing away to a brand new life. He often wondered where she left for after the Queen's Lady plague had run its course. It did him no good to dwell on the matter, but he couldn't help the morbid little curiosity.

The first thing Kaz did once he was off the sickboat and on dry land again was go to the office she worked at. He stood outside all day and night, waiting for her to go in or out, but she didn't show. Of course, Stadwatch saw a grimy little boy outside the glimmering building and cleared him away. Still, Kaz went back every day that week and watched for his sister.

He tried to file a missing person's report with the Stadwatch, tried to find anyone who might help him find his only remaining family, but no one took him seriously. When he told people his story they all seemed to come to the same conclusion. His sister either moved on and sailed away, or she trifled with the wrong people and was dead in an alley somewhere.

But Kaz knew his sister, knew she was the most sensible person in Kerch; she would steer completely clear of any swindlers or brutes, especially after what happened with Hertzoon--or Pekka Rollins, as Kaz had discovered. She didn't have Jordie around anymore to talk her into trouble. No, it was more likely that she was halfway across the world.

It was four years now since the scam, the sickness, since his sister left, and Kaz found himself in the Harbour more and more. Sometimes he passed it by, other times he would sit by the nearest building and look at the bobbing masts as though they were trees waving in the breeze. He would sit there and wait for a ship to come in that might carry her.

If she came back, Kaz could shrug off the name he gave himself and be a Rietveld again. His family could move back to the countryside, or they could leave Kerch all together. He didn't care. He just wanted his sister back. He just didn't want to be alone anymore.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! The next part will take a little while. If you want to be tagged please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Part 5

Taglist:

@babyblue-chaos @mischiefmanaged71 @red-ace-in-space @gabby10100 @rosexdenis @tayswiftlovebot @cecebridgerton @houseoftwistedspirits @gxdsmonsters @sweet0pia-uwu @starrynightsil @ell0ra-br3kk3r @knmendiola @lyria-skyfall @adharanotfound @kato-ptris @unicornfairytail @milkshake0 @inluvkai @wwwlusspace @for-writing-shit @stickyfictioninwriting @4-everm-0-re @reidwritess @fallonaurr @meg-the-second-greatest @justsomecreaturewandering @madnessinwrighting @goldenpoison @theghostofshadows @bilesxbilinskixlahey @wolfmoonmusic @nyctophiliiiiaaa @avengers-assemble123456 @catzpawn @angelhxneyy @alinasmcu @itshardtopickaname @pomagranteseeds @tvdfandomlover @redroomwidows @minamay118 @luvly-writer @riot-in-my-soul @bl6o6dy @katiemrty @wolfiealina @mysticalfuncollectorus @beauty--is-terror @6000-fandoms @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bleucoffeecup @almostjollypizza @halfofagayallofaqueer @lollulroofl @demonstookmysoul @blathena @carelessreadersstuff @thatwhorethatlikesbooks @losers-club6 @earth-to-lottie @unwanted-15 @riot-in-my-soul

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfic #kaz brekker x sister!reader #kaz brekker x reader #grishaverse fanfic #nine long years

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kaesaaurelia · 2 years

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really good at dying

For @whumptober day 4: Dead On Your Feet, using the prompts "hidden injury" and "waking up disoriented," and also a kind of unconventional use of "can't pass out."

Continued from Day 3, wherein the angel Vehuel was stabbed by her demon ex, who is doing some work for Famine during an exceptionally cold winter.

Content warning for discussion of cannibalism, an archangel with really terrible bedside manner, and some dead baby jokes that are probably unbecoming of angels.

Vehuel landed in Heaven more than a little dazed. Her spear hadn't had any kind of special power, as far as she knew -- it was human-made and she hadn't bothered to bless it or anything. But maybe Nisroc had done something to it in the brief moments they'd held the spear? She felt weak, and sick, and extremely fucking angry.

A recorporation tech helped her to her feet; it was then that she noticed she was also dizzy as fuck. Which was weird, wasn't it? She'd left her inner ear behind on Earth, so… why was she dizzy? She felt like maybe if she could close her eyes and sleep for a year she'd feel better, which was a pity, because in Heaven no one slept. Just like no one cried, or felt pain. Or felt dizzy, usually.

"Twelve years, two months," said the tech cheerfully. "Is that a record?"

"What?" God, she just wanted to close her eyes. There would be so many questions, though.

"This body lasted you twelve years and two months," said the tech, cheerfully. "And six days, and five and a half minutes. More or less. I was congratulating you," he added, hopefully. "Are -- are you not happy? I thought you beat your record."

"For the past century, yeah," she sighed. The guy meant well but she was not up to being cheered up. Even human life expectancy was longer than that. "Look, is Raphael in the office today?"

"Uh. He is but I think he canceled all his meetings? He's pretty grumpy. Why don't you wait a couple weeks. He'll be less grumpy, maybe."

She couldn't imagine what a couple of weeks of Nisroc, Famine, and… Buddy running rampant would do. A Great Lakes winter was plenty bad without Famine's monster eating people, and it seemed to Vehuel that conditions were ripe for the making of more monsters. Nisroc loved encouraging people into selfishness, and magnifying their desires into desperate needs, and if they were already desperate because of Famine….

"Thanks, I'll think about it," said Vehuel, taking the clipboard with her information from the recorporation tech before he realized what was happening. Because she was sometimes an angel of her word, she held the thought of waiting in her mind for just the four steps it took to exit the discorporation arrival bay, and dismissed it as soon as she was out the door, brandishing her clipboard like a shield that would protect her from social awkwardness. (If only such a shield existed.) She was less dizzy, but she was still nauseous and weak, and that was still very weird. But she was just gonna have to power through; she had to get back to Earth, and to do that she was going to have to present her case to Raphael, and to do that she was going to have to convince him she was fine.

She could tell people were staring as she stumbled down Heaven's gleaming hallways, but she ignored them, and managed to keep herself more or less upright until she got to Raphael's office, whereupon she had to lean on the door a little to open it. Once it swung open, she ended up leaning facefirst into the floor. Fortunately it didn't hurt anything but her pride; there was no pain in Heaven.

"Hashmal, I told you, stop shuffling across carpets before you touch doorknobs if it's bothering you that much. Or bother Michael about it. It really sounds like a Michael problem," said Raphael, not looking up from his paperwork. He had a horrific stack of it and it didn't look like he'd made any progress for centuries.

She reminded herself that she wouldn't be bothering him if human lives weren't at risk. "Not Hashmal, sorry," she said, leaning against the door. She wished she had Hashmal's problems, though, whatever they were.

"Oh! No, you're not," he said, frowning at her. "You look awful. Did that demon get you again?"

"What demon?" Vehuel asked, trying to act casual while she propped herself up against the wall.

"The demon who keeps disemboweling you or whatever," said Raphael, glaring at her. "I don't know why you won't just give me a name."

She didn't want to get Nisroc into trouble in Hell -- because, well, they were probably neglecting their real assignments to fuck with her, and she was uncomfortable with how that line of questioning might go for Nisroc if someone asked. For a moment this thought seemed to reduce her dizziness and nausea, but as soon as she remembered that it would kind of serve Nisroc right to get in trouble, and that the real reason not to say anything was that it might get back to Heaven and Vehuel might get in trouble, the dizziness came back twofold. She had to lean over Raphael's desk just to keep her balance. "No. No, just, uh, just a garden-variety discorporation. Look, I need to get back down there," she said.

"Let me see you," said Raphael. He looked very unhappy with her. To be fair, though, she'd never seen him smile, so it probably wasn't her fault. With difficulty, Vehuel managed to stand up straight without using anything to hold herself up. But exasperatingly, Raphael was not satisfied with this. "No, no," he said, "let me see you, not how you think of yourself. You can change over there if you want some privacy," he said, making a privacy screen appear off to one side of his office, and closing the door with another gesture.

Vehuel saw that it would take three steps to get behind the privacy panel, and that was too far just now, so she didn't bother with it. She wasn't particularly self-conscious about either of her forms, so she wouldn't need it. Closing her eyes, she released her humanoid form, the one that followed her into Heaven even when the meat body it resembled had been incinerated or ripped to shreds or crushed under rocks, and when she opened her eyes again, she had a lot more than two of them.

It was weird, being a glowing swirl of gas and dust and eyes in Raphael's office while he stood there, looking nearly human and entirely annoyed and incongruously small for an archangel. "Turn around," he said, and she did so, unsteadily. "Hmm. How'd you die this time?"

"Spear through the stomach," said Vehuel, the spiral of her curling tighter at the memory of pain.

"Nasty," said Raphael. "Awful lot of nerves there. And acid. It must've taken hours, too. Are you sure you don't want to take some time off?"

"It was pretty much instantaneous," she said.

"Mmm," said Raphael. He did not seem to believe her. "You really should've had time to heal, even if you bled out quickly."

"Well, I didn't. Maybe I'm just really good at dying," she said, irritably.

"You have had a lot of practice," he said disapprovingly, paging through the record on the clipboard she'd brought. "I don't think that's how you died," he said. "Is there anything else you're not telling me?"

"Look, I was there," she said. Now her nausea was manifesting as three very uncomfortable singularities orbiting each other unpredictably in the center of her being, and she hated it. "I guess it was probably just a really good stab or something."

"Who stabbed you?" he asked.

"Just, you know. Just some jagoff with a spear." He was not going to catch her this way.

"Some… jagoff…" he wrote carefully into her record. "I don't think that's a real word?"

"Don't care. Anyway, I need to get back," she said. "So if we could get to that part…"

Raphael sighed. "What exactly can you do that won't be able to wait a few decades?"

She collapsed back into her humanoid form without really meaning to, and she knew she should've waited for Raphael to finish his examination but she just couldn't hold onto her ethereal form when there were humans about to be eaten, or worse, changed. "Famine's down there," she said. "He's ravaging my humans, and -- and corrupting their souls."

"I thought he just made them hungry? Famine's the malnutrition one, right?"

"Okay but it's really hard to be a good person when you're super hungry," said Vehuel, "seriously, it's a whole weird… headachey thing." It was only by the nearness of God's grace that she wasn't getting a headache right now explaining it to him. He'd designed primate physiology, even if he hadn't intended it for use in humans.

"I think official guidelines right now are that it's better if they overcome lots of obstacles to goodness," he said, with a sarcastic little smile. "You need to give me something better than that."

"Okay, how about, uh, I have reason to believe if Famine gets his hooks into some of them they'll turn into giant man-eating monsters," said Vehuel. "They'll eat babies." This was… maybe stretching the truth. Because yeah, according to local stories, eating babies was something these things did, but Nisroc was down there too, and Vehuel fucking hated Nisroc, but they were at least pretty consistent about not wanting to hurt children. Directly, anyway. It would be pretty traumatic for any kid to see their parents turn into giant, ravenous ice-monsters. "Look. Are you saying God thinks I should let a monster eat a bunch of babies?"

Raphael frowned. "Technically," he began, and then he stopped. "Well, I mean, depending on which version of the employee handbook you look at --"

"Eating babies!" she said. This was very annoying. You could make humans do practically anything -- appalling things, even -- by claiming someone was eating babies. But here now she was trying to use this conversational shortcut for maybe the only good use it'd ever had, and it didn't work at all on the guy who designed babies. It was fundamentally unfair.

"I vaguely remember making babies very easy to upset, and very loud about it," he said. "Maybe it's a mercy?"

"It really isn't! Look! Look, okay. Could you just… put something better on the paperwork?" she asked. "You know and I know that it's fucked up to let something eat babies. Can we just agree to tell Heaven whatever they have to hear for me to keep Famine from convincing people to eat babies?"

He sighed. "I really don't see why anyone would eat babies. There's more efficient sources of everything except for horrible smells. But. Yes. You are… not wrong." He frowned. "Could I put something down about premature Apocalyptic Horseperson interference?" He began to page through her records. "Horrible things, but they are a necessary evil, of course."

"Apocalyptic Horsepersons?"

"Oh, I have no idea about them, I meant babies," he said.

She bit back an incoherent growl of frustration. "Look, can I just get down there?" Vehuel asked. "I'll take whatever body you have, I don't even care what it looks like, I'll, I'll just…" Ugh. She should not have to deal with all this nonsense just to do her job. "I'll tell them I stole it."

"Oh, no, don't do that," said Raphael. "Although unfortunately…" He sighed. "You've been going through bodies at an alarming rate, Vehuel. The fact is that if you hadn't forged my name on things and brought yourself to my attention I don't think your last three recorporation requests would have gone through. Because you are clearly experiencing some kind of targeted demonic assault."

"I'm really not," said Vehuel. "North America's just really dangerous. Lots of, um, lakes. And wolves."

"None of your North American fatalities have been due to lakes or wolves," said Raphael, looking over the clipboard she'd brought with her.

"And it's really cold, and, uh, windy, and, --"

"There is one option I can offer you," said Raphael, "but it's very temporary. And it's highly dependent on factors out of my control and yours. Also, if anyone finds out, you'll be in a lot of trouble." He thought about this for a moment. "Actually, so would I. We would both be in… just, so very much trouble. But I think it's the only thing I could keep off the paperwork."

She didn't like the sound of that. "Look, you could just blame me, I'm sure I could pull some strings to --"

"I'm not going to blame you," said Raphael, sounding appalled. "It's my idea. Anyway, I don't think any amount of string-pulling would save either of us from damnation."

"Damnation?" Vehuel asked.

"Unless you have some strings that go very high up," he said.

"You're an archangel," she pointed out.

"On the other hand," said Raphael, as if he hadn't heard her, "I'd really like to see if it actually works. I suspect a handful of people have discovered this little glitch already but nobody's been brave enough to bring it to my attention, and I know you'd be honest with me about this, even if you lie about everything else. Not like Hashmal and his ridiculous stinging doorknob stories. So, if you're ready…"

"Uh..." Somewhere, on the shores of the biggest lake she'd ever laid eyes on, something was stalking through the woods, and it was very hungry. And maybe she could stop it. "Sure, yeah. What am I --"

"Great! Now, remember, it's temporary," he said. "And you'll have to be convincing. I'm sure you can be convincing," he added, "you did talk me into doing this idiotic thing." The momentary flash of pride at that distracted Vehuel from the question she had been about to ask, which was something along the lines of Wait, what?

Then Raphael waved his hand at her and said, "Now get out of my office," and before she could ask for any further clarification, a strange sinking sensation seized her. She was pulled down through the floor, and then she began to fall faster and faster through -- well, she didn't know what, but she could hazard a guess that it was Earth's atmosphere, but only because the gravity felt about right. As she reached terminal velocity without any of her human senses and very few of her angelic ones, she was at least glad she didn't technically have mass, because otherwise, boy would it hurt when she reached the ground.

[continued on day 8]

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #dead on your feet #hidden injury #waking up disoriented #can't pass out #oc #(technically good omens 'verse)#fiction #cannibalism #child death #disaster principality vehuel #I'm not gonna tag this with raphael bc people follow that tag #text

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tanniesjeom · 3 years

Text

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again.

genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.

warnings: many talks of death and dying, minor character death, pain, unrequited love, swearing, talks of past sexual experience while intoxicated, pining, longing, really sad reader, and lots of angst.

word count: 7.2 k

"you would die for her, for him."

"You're dying."

The two words escape past his lips steadily and breathily as your widening eyes linger on the way his hands fiddle with one another out of habit. He sighs deeply and resists the urge to avoid screaming at you and maintain eye contact out of professionalism, pushing back his slipping glasses.

"At this rate, you won't have any more than a month. Had you told me this sooner, y/n, the results wouldn't have been as scarce. But because you waited after almost a year of this, I'm afraid there's not much to do." He pushes his desk lightly to pull away from it, creating a mere distance between himself and the papers which finalized your future's passing. Reaching his collar, he tugs on his tie to loosen it before unbuttoning the first stitch as he looks at you with seemingly stray and angered eyes mixed with sympathy.

Suddenly, his sight wanders the room as he shakes his head repeatedly, scoffing in disbelief. He then smiles, dimples prominent, lip tightened, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes broken, piercing straight at its target - that being you.

Standing up, he takes off his glasses and slams his fist onto the chair's arm rest before running a hand across his hair, softly hissing.

The professionalism is now out of the drain, "You're an idiot, y/n."

"Fucking stupid. How could you not- I mean- how could you not tell me? I'm your brother! We're family. Blood. We're supposed to- we're supposed to tell each other these things and you just fucking- you kept it to yourself all these months! Ten months! And now I'm sitting here being the one to tell you that you're dying? That you're leaving me? I would've done something. I would've helped you, I- I would've killed whoever this person you're in love with is. y/n, please- I just-"

You don't know why, but you felt exhausted.

The ringing in your ears is deafening. Truthfully, you hadn't heard a single thing the minute you received news that you'll be, well, passing away. Not to mention, within 30 days time.

It's not as if you didn't already know about your condition, of course you did. Coughing soft pink camellia flowers every time you see the man that's brought you here is not exactly something that just simply passes a blind eye. You sense it, you feel it, and it hurts.

It really, really hurts.

You also felt awful for your brother. You hadn't meant for it to go this far. You didn't mean to not tell him. You didn't want your assigned doctor to suddenly call in sick and have your brother temporarily take his place. You didn't mean for him to find out this way - such a twisted, horrible fucking way, but here you are.

"I'm sorry, Joon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to go this far. I just-"

"Were you ever even going to tell me?" He cuts you off, voice low and steady, almost afraid of your coming response.

Your eyes locate his across the cramped room, and one could clearly tell that it's striving its hardest to fight against desperate tears.

"I- yes, Joon. I was. Of course I was. I was gonna do it after this check in actually, but I guess God wanted you to find out sooner than I intended, though He could've just waited a little while longer and it would've been fine." You joke whisperingly, the heavy weight of your heart lightening just a small bit when you notice the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes faintly soften.

Regrettably, that was a lie. You didn’t plan on telling him, not today at least. Maybe not even ever.

The softening air lasts for only a second as his following question makes you hold back the urge to cough up another camellia flower slowly blooming its way to your throat.

"Who is it?"

Genuine, concerned, curious. These were all that he was.

But noticing the way your body went entirely rigid at his words and the way your hand clutched your clothed chest in attempt to shut down what you know will happen next, Namjoon's brotherly instincts causes him to naturally make his way towards you softly, taking small and careful strides towards your fragile state.

And once he's finally reached you, he gets on his knees gently in order for him to be of nearing same height level as you're sitting down, his hands rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting manner.

He does this all before pulling the trigger.

"Who are you in love with, y/n?"

two years back

"Jimin!"

You call out your brother's best friend loudly, who is currently in the midst of doing a one-man stage play in front of the mirror, "Joon's saying you guys need to get going now. Says he has a patient in two hours and wants to go over all sorts of documents before treating her."

Turning around, you scan the living room and dining room for the keys of your friend's car as your brother also asked you to hand them to him since the two always end up on forgetting it until they've already reached the car parked across your apartment's block.

You hear Jimin shuffle behind you, "Really? He wants to go over documents at- 9 AM in the morning?"

Smiling at his attempts of complaint, you nod your head softly in order to play along and answer his rhetorical question, "He really needs to learn how to drive doesn't he? Since he's dragging you along everywhere he goes."

Jimin laughs at your statement, which being an opinion, your brother would argue, 'driving isn't a necessary aspect of life.' But who really thinks like that? Oh right, non-drivers.

“I guess he’s getting too caught up in learning medicine that he forgot to learn how to officially become an adult.” Reaching above the kitchen top, you finally found sight of Jimin's car keys.

How did it even get up there? You think to yourself. It's really high up, so Namjoon must've been the one to leave it as to where it is.

You groan slightly, "Joon, can you get over here! I found Chim's keys but it's too far up high so I can't reach it. Hell I don't even think he can reach this-"

You are cut off when you feel a hand sneak around your waist, making you flinch and suddenly spin cautiously.

Eyes widened. Lips parted. Breath hitched. You let out an inaudible gasp as you come to the realization that Jimin is now in front of you, head tilted with an amused smile on his face, "Excuse you? I can very much reach this." He says, all the while reaching up behind you, inchly leaning forward. At this point, your body is being pressed up against the kitchen counter and his oh-so-very toned front.

This small action is enough to instigate a flaming abyss inside of you as you very much attempt to calm your alarmed heart.

You can feel the cuts and lines of his abs against your chest as he is now standing on his tippy toes, desperately trying to reach the keys on the kitchen top. Anyone that could see his posture would call him adorable, but your body is currently being sandwiched and by all that is high and mighty your mind can't even really process a single thing. Wait, what were you thinking just now?

"See? Got it." Jimin falls back in place as he jiggles his car keys in front of your stone-cold face, smile wide as he giggles softly, "Piece of cake, y/n."

He then proceeds to move on with his life like he didn't just do what the fuck he just did.

Clearing your throat, you blink about a million times in order to gather your thoughts. Your heartbeat is racing faster than the speed of light and your lips have become as dry as a desert. If you had gone standing on your tippy toes just as he did, you would've been a baby hair away from lips touching. The thought is enough to make you grow weak.

Yet as if something inside of you is suddenly turned on, no pun intended, you remind yourself that these thoughts are wrong. You can't be having these apprehensions, they aren't right. Because not only is he your brother's best friend, he also has a-

"y/n?" Jimin's soft voice calls out your name.

Breaking out of your trance, you turn to see him sitting down on the dining table, head tilted downwards with a small smile on his face. The sun escapes your pastel curtains as it slips past the window sill, reasoning with the current ray of golden yellow that has found its home on Jimin’s plump cheek, shining on the left side of his luminous face.

It's absolutely senseless how he can look as beautiful as he does simply by existing, and it makes perfect sense that your finding yourself to liking him more and more.

Just look at him.

You are broken out of your enchanted daze once more as dreaded words leave his smiling lips, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Only then were you brought back to your inadequate reality.

“W- what?” You attempt to speak, but you notice the way your voice has suddenly become noticeably hoarse.

Jimin looks up at you with a smile, the kind that has his eyes almost disappearing.

“Sung. I’m gonna ask her to marry me tonight.”

silence.

and more silence.

Like a coward, that was all what you could muster to respond with.

And only then did you notice the velvet box on his hands, upon which he is tenderly caressing. Only then did you recognize the questionable romantic script of his one-man stage just moments earlier. Only then did you realize that the reason behind his growing smile are because of her, not you. Not because of what had just taken place.

Only then did you remember that no, you can't be having these apprehensions - they aren't right.

Because not only is he your brother's best friend,

he also has a, now upcoming, fiancé.

present time

"I already loved him then, Joon."

By this time, your brother has stood up and begun pacing back and forth the modest office, murmurs of curses towards his friend escaping past his lips, "-that small son of a bitch."

Smiling softly, you look down in reminiscence of the moments you have spent falling for Jimin. "I guess I've always been infatuated with him ever since our first meeting, but my God Joonie," you pause, inhaling a short breath in attempt to stop tears threatening to spill. "-ever since that day, when he told me that he was going to propose to her, I finally realized that like was the wrong term to use. I realized that I loved him and I just- I lost sight of everything." You cry, small sobs coming from you as you blinkingly look up to try to contain the waters forming in your eyes.

It was true. That day, when he told you about his plans to ask her to marry him, you've never felt more indignant.

Of course you faked it at first, congratulated him and consoled him into truthfully believing that she will undoubtedly say yes. But the minute he and Namjoon left your apartment, you collapsed on your carpeted floors, sobbing loudly and hitting your chest repetitively all the while cursing yourself in your head for ever even considering the tiniest of possibilities that you and Jimin could ever happen.

You also went out that night, got drunk, found a guy, slept with him, and never looked back.

Sure, this may seem like a regular night out for many, but not being the type to kiss and sleep, sex meant a lot to you.

Nothing wrong with one night stands, that just wasn't your particular chosen lifestyle. But you were wasted. You were intoxicated. You didn't know what you were doing. Had you been sober, you wouldn't have done what you did, especially with the person you did it with. So when you woke up in the middle of the night naked in bed next to a familiar face and realized what you've done, you rushingly stood up, got dressed, and left, ignoring the calls of the man you had just been with.

You went straight home and washed yourself for hours, feeling dirty and sloppy and disgusting. You can easily recollect sitting down in the showers, head tucked underneath and in between your legs, sobbing and crying loudly as the steam surrounding you from the warm water kept on worsening.

You hated what you did, and you most definitely despised the reason for what you did, - to simply get over someone else. You felt guilty. You felt ashamed. What would Jimin think? You thought to yourself. And though that truly didn't really matter, the ache in your heart kept on making you believe otherwise.

You didn't notice how your tears have fallen and stained your newly-bought jeans until Namjoon's hands holding a napkin comes within your perception.

Mumbling a small 'sorry Joonie,' you accept his offer and wipe the tears still continuously streaming down your now reddened, warm, and puffy face. As you do this, you furthermore catch sight of your brother's shadow rubbing his face in frustration, matching the groans that you also hear release from him in the background. And without meaning so, you deflate in insecurity.

Hearing the sound of air being released from a pulling force, you look up to see that Namjoon has sat back down, his elbows resting on the desk while his chin rest on his hands. "Does he know about this, y/n?"

You sigh, "No."

"Are you going to tell him?" You hear him ask once more.

Closing your eyes and sniffing lightly, you inhale a steady breath as you answer him for the second time, "I don't know, Joon."

Namjoon looks at you, eyes full of worry and concern. You don't know?

You're his sister, and he loves you. He would do anything for you. If he could shower you with all the love that you lack from Jimin, he would. And he would do it in a heartbeat. But you're dying. You're leaving him. And he doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what to do. So how could you not know? How could you sit here, in front of him, after keeping this shit for ten months to yourself, tell him that you just don't know?

He feels frustrated. Frustrated over the clearing fact that if you don't know the answer to that simple yes or no question, then how more could you know the answer to when he asks you to make the choice?

The choice - to love or to die.

A very careful, unprecedented surgery that has been performed by professionals only a few times, yet each one has been successful. This seems easy, yeah. A surgery to save your life? Of course you'll do it! But there's a reason as to why this has been done only by a certain small count.

To perform the surgery and live, the price is not the expense, but rather the loneliness that shall come as you spend the rest of your life void of emotions. The surgery doesn't get rid of love on its own, it gets rid of everything that comes with it - happiness, sadness, trust, pain, pretty much everything that one can possibly feel. The only emotion left is indifference, yet even indifference lacks its self-sustainability.

Who would want to live like that?

Who would want to live a life where you just simply exist and nothing more?

He knows that the day will come eventually - when he offers you the choice, the chance to save your life, and he knows it will come soon. But right now, he has chosen to prioritize being a brother over a doctor. Right now, the only thing in his mind is comforting you.

"Okay." Your brother nods, making your eyes widen slightly in shock.

Okay? No scolding? No 'how could you not know?!' older brother reprimands? But then you remember, oh yeah. You're dying. And who could possibly scold their dying little sister?

"I'm sorry Joonie-" You try to apologize once more before he cuts you off again.

"No, don't apologize, y/n. It's not like you could've possibly wanted for any of this to happen, yeah?" He offers you a smile, but you could easily see past its fabricated purpose, "But instead let me ask you this. And I need you, in our deceased parent's name, to be completely honest with me."

You only nod, completely submissive and understanding of his seriousness the moment that he mentioned your passed parents.

"What you just told me, when you first fell in love with him, that was two years ago." He starts, making you nod again in agreement.

"But you were diagnosed only ten months ago."

Your heart drops, and you don't nod again.

"The Hanahaki Disease is not something that gradually begins and comes to existence over the course of time. It is an illness that is triggered. It could be by a sudden forthcoming realization or proclamation of love, or by an event that triggers the heart to completely shut down in overwhelmth. Either way, basing on the timing of what you've said, you should've been diagnosed with the Hanahaki two years ago. But you weren't."

Namjoon eyes you questioningly, but not too much to the extent that you feel uncomfortable, only just enough to remind you of the importance of this conversation, "You were only diagnosed ten months ago, y/n. Why?"

You sit still, not wanting to move, as if your stone figure would somehow make him think that you're not real or that you're a simple figment of his messed up imagination.

"y/n, what happened ten months ago?"

He finishes his question and you swallow harshly only to realize that you're parched, your throat completely dry. You then tilt your head to steal a gaze at your brother, making you catch the way his eyes suddenly widened as if he just realized something of high importance. As if he had just realized the answer to his own question. And that didn't work with you.

Clearing your throat, you are about to answer him in order to cut off his thoughts until the door swings open and you feel your throat compact, - the coughs of a camellia flower slipping its way to visibility -because there he is,

the man of the hour.

"y/n." He noticeably breathes a sigh of relief before making his way to you, engulfing you in a giant embrace. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you had the Hanahaki? How could you not let me know? How long have you had it? Who is it? I swear I'm going to murder whoever this piece of shit is that he dared ever making yo-"

"Jimin this is a professional space between a doctor and his patient." The two of you pull away almost exactly the same time as soon as Namjoon speaks up, Jimin's eyebrows furrowing, "Get out."

"What?" Jimin barely gather the voice to ask him as he is completely caught off guard of his friend's erupting vulgar attitude.

"I said-" Namjoon speaks before getting caught off again.

"No trust me, I heard what you said. But what?" Jimin repeats himself, "So you're telling me you're not prioritizing being y/n's brother right now? You're still caught up in this Doctor Kim bullshit? Like you're a real one?"

"Jimin-" You attempt to budge in, sensing that a certain trouble may suddenly come knocking.

"No, y/n. Listen hyung-"

"No, YOU listen. You small piece of shit." Your brother raises his voice, "-don't come barging in here like you own the place or like you have any authority over her. She is MY sister and this is a family matter. So it's best you stay out of it and keep in your lane."

At this point, Namjoon is in front of Jimin, a short distance separating the two of them, "And don't you ever dare speak to me in that tone again. I know you're my friend, but remember to treat me with respect. Not only am I your superior, but I'm also your hyung." He finishes with a serious voice, tone low, and message deep. His earnest eyes piercing through his friend's pained ones.

Jimin, mouth slightly agape being at loss for words and clearly confused at his close friend's unreasonable anger, storms out of the room.

But not before he drags you along with him.

Namjoon is quick to act as he tries to reach for you, but you turn back and look at him pleadingly, signaling him that it's okay and to not worry. And him being the understanding brother that he is, pulls back and holds himself steady.

You can handle him. You’re a Kim. You’re strong.

Strong enough to survive through this.

You’ll be okay.

And as he watches the two of you leave, the door closing shut right in front of him, only then does reality hit Namjoon as his legs tremble abruptly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

Falling down the floor, he reaches onto the desk for assistance as he slides his back down the wooden wall, hands painfully fisted and finding its way to cover his mouth in order to muffle the choked-in sobs perilously escaping him. He proceeds to blink away the tears and bite harshly on his lips, trying to diminish the flourishing grievance in his heart.

His sister is dying, and he doesn't know what to do.

“Doctor Kim? The next patient is ready to see you.” A knocking nurse distracts him and calls out from behind the door, “-shall I send them in?”

Namjoon sniffs heavily and sighs deeply, rushingly grabbing his glasses and adjusting his emotionally wrecked state, “One moment!”

He lets out a soft, shaky breath and reminds himself once more that you’re a Kim.

You’re strong.

You can beat this.

It'll be alright.

You'll be okay.

"IM NOT OKAY JIMIN-SHI!" You voicely whine out to your friend who is currently dragging you along the halls of the hospital and out the technologically advanced glass doors, "What is wrong with you?!" You pull your arm aggressively from his grasp as you bend down, hands resting on your knees while you hastily try to catch your breath. The camellia flower stuck just along the chords of your throat making it very difficult.

Jimin stares at you worryingly, having forgotten of your illness, "O- oh no. y/n, I'm sorry I forgot I- are you okay? Should we go back?" He stutters in concern before you hold up one finger, signaling him to shut the hell up. "-sorry."

Looking at you like this, tired and exhausted from having to put up with all his bullshit, Jimin feels a sudden urge to reach out and embrace you tightly, almost forgetting of his previous encounter with your brother.

And so that's exactly what he does.

You are caught off guard the moment you feel a hand grab your shoulder by means of pulling you closer all the while another rests just at your crook of spine, and although this first makes you stumble in a not-so-very prettily way, your destination is found to be in your friend's embrace, his fragile yet protective arms wrapped around you securely.

Not letting this moment simply pass by, you let yourself melt in his arms as you find the comfort meant to be found in his comforting hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slightly stand on your tippy toes. Somehow, your simple action makes him pull you even closer, one hand creeping behind your neck all the while his other is completely wrapped around your waist although this time is tighter than before.

As the two of you stay like this in the middle of the sliding glass doors of the hospital, crowds of unfamiliar voices passing by you and ambulances ringing endlessly against your ear, you let yourself submerge within the passion of your heart.

Amidst the chaos and cries of your nearingly counted days, you find consolation in the arms of the same man that has put you in front of death's door, and quite frankly, you wouldn't really want it any other way. You'll take what is given by the heavens above when it comes to Jimin, because well- you love him.

Unfortunately, that quick and simple thought is enough to make you lose control of your reminded disease.

"y-y/n what's- are you okay?" Jimin pulls away from you abruptly as you break into coughing fits, pastel pink camellia blossoms escaping your trembling lips.

The sight has caught the attention of many civilians, but both you and Jimin remain to be indifferent about them as you or more or less are occupied with your illness all the while Jimin specifically aims his attention on you alone.

"Alright that's it, screw your brother alright?" Jimin exclaims a bit louder than what you're comfortable with as this obviously did not benefit with the proceedingly growing public focus on the two of you, "-we're going back, y/n, it's my fault for bringing you outside so suddenly-"

"No chim, please-" You roughly attempt to speak out, your throat painfully extracting the feeling of abrasiveness, "Please just- let's just go."

"y/n.."

“Please chim,” you cut him off for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, coughing, “-please. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

Hesistant yet concerned, Jimin nods slowly as he assists your side, his hands finding its home around your waist and lower back while you both take short and careful strides. You destination is still unknown, but you didn’t mind. A journey a day with someone you love has never turned out for the worse.

At least that's what you think.

"Really?" You roll your eyes as you notice the familiar lane that Jimin's car just entered, "I asked you to get me out of the hospital area, I didn't ask for a sleepover, Jimin." You jokingly accuse him, but you can't help the smile that makes its way on your puffed-up face as you notice him smoothly take a side-glance at you with a knowing smirk.

"Well I thought that with all that bad hospital air, you might've wanted to breathe in a familiar scent," Jimin responds as the car comes to a stop.

You turn slightly to open the door and step out before you here a meek, "Jankkanman!" and perceive a 5'9 in height blondie come running around the bonnet in order to open the car door for you as a gentleman would. It is such a sweet and casual pantomime, yet an ill-patient diagnosed with an illness of the heart can never bring you any wins. Consequently, his actions only causes your throat to feel strained and compacted for the endless time.

God, how much did you love this man that such a simple gesture makes you want to cough out countless of fully bloomed flowers?

You thank the heavens above for your past endless experiences that allowed you to now be better in terms of hiding your pain as you attempt to smile genuinely, mumbling a small "thank you" in the process before making your way inside his home.

"So," Jimin starts as the two of you plop down his couch, his eyes seeking for yours as he tilts his head ever so lightly, "what should we do today... now that you're out of that hell hole?"

"Chim!" You scold him lightly, "my brother and your best friend just happens to be working in that hell hole, just in case you forgot, and- hey! You work there too, you ass." You accusingly point at him all the while hitting his arm playfully.

Jimin is was a nurse in that hospital. Your brother is a doctor.

He laughs and smiles widely, "Nope. I don't work there anymore, remember? But I did for a while, which is why I can most definitely testify that that place is indeed, a hell hole. And by the way, I'm kind of offended that you pretty much forgot my lost profession just then, y/n, like what the fuck?" He jokes endingly.

Your eyes soften slightly as he mentions his lack of job, yet you still stubbornly choose to ignore his last remark. "Well I sure hope that's not the case since I'll be most likely spending my last days there."

Oops.

The silence that ensues goes inevitably noticed by the two of you the moment those words escaped past your lips, but you paid no mind. That was the reason that you asked him to take you away anyways. You weren't hoping for some cliche romantic bullshit where the two of you simply elope and forget your real worries in your life, no. Instead you were here with the main purpose of facing it.

Besides, even if you did want to leave with him, you couldn't. Remember?

Jimin is the first to break the excessive blockade, "Don't say that y/n."

You sigh, "But it's true, chim."

"I don't give a shit if it's true or not."

"Chim.." You are slightly startled with his sudden outburst, caught off guard in the way his voice slightly raised as his attention and body language are now completely directed at you, "Wha- why are you getting mad?"

Jimin scoffs, almost irritated at your oblivious question, "Why? Because you're talking of dying like it's not a big deal, y/n!" His voice getting louder and louder by every word he spits out, "God, you know you can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. What, did you already forget the shit I suffered when I lost someone? Did you already forget all the fucking shit I suffered when death took her from me?"

At the mention of her, you pause. Speechless. Guilty. Hurt.

Of course you remember. How could you not? You remember the darkest of days as like it was just yesterday.

You remember getting that call in the middle of the night from the contact name of your brother as you slightly answered it in an irritated voice, "Joon I swear to God if you're asking me to drive you to work in the middle of the fucking night I will personally drag your ass right now to get a driver's liscenc-"

"y/n?"

You remember immediately stopping as you recognize the voice that most certainly did not belong to your brother, "Chim?"

"y- y/n."

You remember the outbreak of his sobs as you call out to him, his sniffles and cries becoming more and more prominent as you stumble on your feet, struggling with keeping your phone against and in between your ear and your shoulder as you hurryingly take off to grab a jacket and your keys, "Chim what's wrong, where the hell are you? W- where's Joon?"

You remember the way your heart dropped as your worst fear came to mind, the thought of losing your brother itself being enough to make you wobble in your feet, your heart clenching. He had your brother's phone, and he was crying.

"N-no, he- he's fine, y/n. It's not him, hyung's... hyung's fine."

You remember the way he struggled to find the right words; the way he sniffled and stuttered through forming such a simple sentence all the while you on the other side of the line breathe out a sigh of relief at the information of your brother's wellness, yet feeling slightly guilty that your emotions are in contrast with your friend's.

"It's Sung."

You remember Jimin's worst.

"It's Sung, y/n. Sh- she got in an accident on the way here to visit me during my off hours and- fuck! Some fucking demon pulled a hit and run on her. She was walking, y/n. She walked an hour here and got ran over by someone and.. they're doing an operation on her- hyung's assisting and he just- it's bad. It was really bad and she was bleeding all fucking over and- hyung, he- he left his phone and I didn't know what to do so I just called you- I didn't, they pushed me out of the room, y/n. I need you here. Please, please. Please come here because I'm losing my fucking mind and I need you here."

You remember driving to the hospital as careful as you can with the fear of the possibility of an accident occurring still in the midst of the back of your mind.

You remember reaching the doors of the emergency room and being greeted with a pair of reddened and exhausted eyes that looked up the moment you walked in, "Jin."

He stands up to greet you politely but you stop him, obviously seeing that his reaction upon seeing you is no more than a forced delight, "Let's not do this under these circumstances, okay? You're allowed to feel unwelcoming. It's okay, Jin."

He does no more than mumble a small 'thank you' before going back to his previous spot with you trudging along beside him.

You remember feeling the sorrow of the man beside you as you watch him lean his head back against the wall, fragile streaks of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. You couldn't imagine his pain, the pain of such a situation where your sister's life is at stake. You wanted to comfort him, to softly rub his back and whisper sweet encouragements against his ear, little white lies that his sister is guaranteed to make it without a doubt. But you couldn't. You weren't here for him, regardless of your history. Regardless of the way you left him the morning after your supposed mistake.

"Uhm, have you seen Jimin?"

You remember the way his void eyes find yours and the way his lips lightly upturn as he gives you a forced smirk, trying to keep up with his image of being Kim Seokjin, Kim Sungkyung's handsome and cocky older brother, "And here I was thinking fate brought you here to me, y/n." He trails off, "-considering how you fucked me then dipped."

You gasp slightly and playfully hit his arm at the blunt mention of your regretted one night stand as you give him a small yet genuine smile, partly glad yet at the same time worried that he can make such remarks during a situation like this.

It was strange really, how everything in your life seemed to be connected. How on the day you felt your heart tore apart the time Jimin first mentioned his planned proposal, you went out and accidentally slept with the soon-to-be-bride's older brother.

Letting out a small sigh, Jin nods his head in the direction of a different waiting room, "He left when I came. Guess he was embarrassed of how fucked up he was but hey- I'm not doing any fucking better am I?" He tells you, subtly pointing at the very visible streaks of tears still falling down his now puffy face.

You get on your feet and turn to leave but not before giving one last glance at the man next to you, a hand softly reaching to rub his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Jin. I wish I could stay, but-"

"It's okay, y/n. Go." Jin encourages you with a small yet noticeably forced smile, "He needs you."

And so you do, bidding him a soft goodbye before taking off, your eyes beginning to water out of the guilt of leaving a friend in that state.

You then remember being suffocated. Suffocated from the embrace that greeted you the moment Jimin entered your peripheral vision. You remember landing on your behind with a harsh thud from the struggle of Jimin's weight as he continues to seek your embrace for means of comfort, the two of you falling down the floor. You remember getting drenched from Jimin's tears as you cradle him as would a wailing child, rocking him back and forth all the while softly rubbing his back, whispering every bit of amenity that could make him feel better.

You remember feeling your heart physically ache as you fail to notice the tears that have fallen down your own eyes, blurring your sight.

To see Jimin in this state, so broken and hurt and scared, it tore you apart. You wanted him happy. You wanted him smiling. You wanted him. You loved him. And God forbid that you're admitting this in your own mind while his fiance is battling for her own life, but fuck.

You wanted nothing more than to lay down your own life for Sung so that she could continue in existence for him.

If you could, you would take here place.

You would die for her, for him.

You remember pushing back your thoughts as you put focusing on Jimin your first priority. You remember keeping him in a neverending tight embrace as he neverendingly sobs against your chest, his lips leaving prayers you could barely yet still tried to understand;

please don't let her die

don't take her away from me

i love her too much

i still have to marry her.

You then remember hearing a wail of anguish, putting a pause to both Jimin's silent pleas and your eavesdropping as the both of your heads turn to pinpoint from whom the noise came from.

You remember the way Jimin stilled.

"No."

You remember his whisper of such a small, two-lettered word, yet somehow it caused your heart to crumble.

"No no no no-"

You remember having to tackle Jimin slightly as he causes a mess of himself, punching the seats and harshly tugging on his hair all the while screaming wails of pain and suffering, "Jimin please-"

"No- get the fuck off of me! Sung?!"

You remember how Jimin lost sight of reality as he pushes you off of him, your body making in contact with the cold tiled ground.

"SUNG? SUNG! LET ME INSIDE-"

You remember seeing nurses and other staff pull the man you love back as he causes a scene, starting to become physical and violent with the people surrounding him, "PLEASE! Please- I just- I NEED TO SEE HER! SHES MY FIANCE-"

You remember seeing a man dressed in blue make his way near Jimin, a needle in his hand.

"H-hey, no!" You remember trying to catch up to the nurse, attempting to prevent them from giving whatever the shot was to Jimin, "Stop! Please-"

"y/n. D-don't."

You remember feeling a hand on your shoulder which makes you turn around instantly, only to find the culprit behind the anguished scream just moments prior Jimin's outburst.

"Jin." You start, "-they're going to sedate him. That- that's not okay."

"They have to, y/n." Another voice calls out from behind Jin, "I know how it seems and I don't like it either, b-but he's becoming violent. They have to sedate him."

"Joon." You whisper softly.

What a sick and twisted game that life is playing on you, that your brother, Jimin's best friend, Jimin's best man at the wedding being planned, is the one to give news of the bride's passing.

"Sung, is she really.." You trail off, not having the heart to finish your sentence.

It seems neither does he, as he responds with nothing but a simple avoidance of eye contact.

"HYUNG!"

You remember Jimin's faint and tired yet still firm voice as he calls out your brother, "Hyung, you saved her didn't you? You- you were part of the surgery. You saved her didn't you? Didn't you!?" Jimin is weak as he trails off his words as the effect of the syringe takes its course, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to the three of you, "H-hyung. Tell me you saved her. P-please tell me you saved h-her."

Namjoon doesn't stop the tear that rolls down his hardened face as he only shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Jimin. We did our best. We really, really did. I'm so sorry-"

You remember the way Namjoon's voice trails off your hearing as your throat suddenly feels contracted. You remember the itching pain just within your chest as you find the struggle to breath, your hand clutching it harshly. You remember stumbling back just a little bit as you feel lightheaded, thinking that these were only from the overwhelming happenings in that moment.

But then you cough.

And you cough

and you cough

and you cough.

But no one notices you.

Not even yourself.

Your attention remains still at Jimin, who has now dropped completely to the floor, tears still continuously spilling out of his drowsy eyes. Short breaths are released from his trembling lips as he mumbles words that none of you can understand. He then begins to seemingly reach out for something, someone.

"P-please," He whispers.

And as you bend down almost immediately to attend to his calls, you cough.

And you cough

and you cough.

And still no one notices.

No one except him.

You cough as your eyes find his, barely open yet staring right at you from the lows of the floor.

You remember having to excuse yourself and run to the nearest restroom you can find, legs trembling and stumbling on your way there as you push against the winds of the almost empty halls, still coughing with every step you take. And just as you reach the doors of the restroom, you turn back slightly, just enough to catch Jimin's last sight while his body is being carried away to where you guess is a vacant patient's room, all this before his eyes ultimately close.

Eyes you found lastly staring at you.

You remember finally shutting the door and locking it, thanking God silently that you're in a family restroom hence there is no one else inside. You cough desperately, your throat beginning to feel exclusively sore and your lungs beginning to tighten from all the air being released as you cough and cough and cough again.

You reach out to the sink, gripping tightly onto the white metals as you cough and cough and cough again.

You then brushingly turn to the toilet, your eyes watering and lips numbing as you cough and you cough and you cough once more.

You practically clean the whole restroom, as disgusting as that sounds, from all the moving you made as you coughed anywhere and everywhere. You felt awful for the next person to come inside, now that your bacterium were practically in its every corner, side, and space. You cough again, this time harder, the worst one out of the previous.

You remember sensing a certain feeling rise up, something soft yet itchy, something light yet heavy.

And so you cough, and you cough, and you cough, and you cough,

and you bleed.

And amongst the red is a pink.

A single, individual pink petal from what you would soon find out is a camellia flower - the flower that is soon to be the latter symbolization of death chasing you, growing closer, inching nearer, just about to knock on your door.

So of course you remember Jimin's distraught. Of course you remember Sung's - his fiance's death.

Because her death was too, the ultimate beginning of yours.

taglist for part 2?

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

All the parts you want. If you have anything specific in mind let me know!

Part 1:"Keep death away"

Part 2:"Beyond the Mask"

39- Tokyo Ghoul- Uta x Human! Reader pt. 3

"Just like you"

His tattooed hand presses against the wardrobe door that he has just closed, right in front of you.

Your breath tickles his knuckles as he hurries to hide the jar from your view, which you only caught a glimpse of it.

Trapped between him and the piece of furniture, your guilty gaze meets his.

"Oops ... sorry." You murmur, barely smiling at him.

Uta sighs slightly, shaking his head with his sweet and calm expression: "no ... I'm sorry, I forgot they were there."

You watch him bend over to open a drawer to look for the leather straps he asked you to retrieve, only to see him return to his workstation soon after.

Were those fingers in there?

The shop has been closed for a while now, and even if you would never say it out loud, this makes you happy. It's not exactly the best for you to always be ready to snap to hide in the bathroom, waiting for his customers to leave.

It hasn't happened many times, actually, but in one of them you heard Uta justify the presence of your smell as "his next meal". It made sense, yet you couldn't ignore a shiver running down your spine.

Despite any moral expectations, since you discovered that that boy is a ghoul you have found yourself much more company with him than before. It is something of yours, mutual. Now that a frightening world has knocked on your door, the one who showed it to you has become your safety and protection, and in the same way Uta comes into your protection with concern and at bottom with a slight sense of guilt it tickles his soul, relieved simply by the relief of not having to hide from you anymore.

Even if you are now aware of who you have in front of you, however the dynamics between you two are still fragile, and above all the dynamics between you and your inner fears are fragile.

The day after the tragic and at the same time sweet evening that opened you to a completely new reality for you, he immediately took care to give you the necessary recommendations: if someone asks you for something, any person, you absolutely must instantly forget that he is a ghoul.

At first you actually felt offended. Did he really think you were that stupid to tell someone about this? Did he think you would ever endanger him?

But soon after, you realized that it was not for his safety that he worried so much. He was afraid for you.

"This is really dangerous" he had told you "If anything happens to me, nobody has to know that you know, okay?"

If anything happens to me.

You couldn't say anything clever at the time, so you just nodded, but something bittersweet had started to tingle in your heart.

He is dangerous, and at the same time in danger. You are in danger of being there with him, you are in many ways. Some would say that you are committing a crime, that you are wrong, that you deserve punishment just because you enjoy his company. Yet you can't feel guilty.

You have so many questions to ask him, but in those days since the revelation you have not asked him even one.

It is so difficult for you to understand what you are feeling. He kills, he eats people, this is now known. He is one of those monsters that the news is talking about so much, one of those monsters that should be exterminated.

Yet you are now there, observing the empty, weeping eyes of a mask behind a display case. He must have done it recently, it's the first time you've seen it.

But still, you are there, in a hidden shop where you risk finding a box of human eyes by opening a drawer, and the thing that scared you the most until the other day is that you can't get the reaction you would expect from you.

You keep looking at the masks and him as you did until last week even though you know.

You didn't tell him, but it all kept you up at night. You've always thought about it, every moment was spent to find a way out of that tangle of thoughts and emotions that went through you both in his presence and in his absence.

It was hard to make peace with yourself, it was almost scary, but in the end you accepted it. You had no choice but to accept it.

He eats people like you, but if he didn't he couldn't exist ...

"I like this mask ..." so sad, so scared, a soul of a poor devil in hell.

"Really? I recently did it. But you know, to tell the truth it gives me a strange feeling. "

Even if he doesn't look at you he is attentive to you. Even if he sits on his stool where you are, he listens to you, he perceives you, much more than you perceive him.

Now you know�� someone in that cruel world has to die, and you don't want that someone to be Uta, despite the price.

Yeah, the price, that price you didn't pay.

Now there is one more thing you have to solve with yourself, something else to admit, so fragile and so strong together.

You approach him to see what he is working on - or rather to see him.

When you look at him, every time, you immediately remember that he is a ghoul, but at the same time it is as if you forget him.

You've been spending a lot of time together now, yet each time you want more, and you don't really care how wrong it is.

“Listen…” his peaceful voice quickly distracts you from your thoughts “… you've been pretty quiet lately. Do you feel ok?"

His hands do not stop for a moment to work, to create. He certainly has deadlines to meet and yet what he is doing is not simple work, it is art. You feel privileged to be able to observe it at work.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I've been thinking too much lately."

You just laugh, a little embarrassed and a little really strangely and genuinely amused by that turn that everything is taking, as long as you are with Uta you feel free to smile again, despite everything.

You move closer to get a better look at his fingers intertwining with ribbons and straps. Who knows how he does it.

"Is it really such a big problem that I'm a ghoul?"

His words rain down on you like a cold shower interrupting all consideration, yet on his part they were necessary.

Uta also finds himself strangely surprised. His skilled hands interrupt the art, in the surprise of that new doubt that until now he had ignored.

No, in fact, he hadn't really ignored it. It had simply always presented itself in a thousand other terms that had never been posed as such a placid question.

He had experienced that stigma, that exclusion from the beauty of the world in a thousand sick ways, but never as he is experiencing it now with you.

And again that world that runs too fast for him returns, that world that "loves only humans", yet in his selfishness he prays on the sidelines that you will be able to give up that love that that magnificent world grants you, to stay there immobile, with a Pierrot like him.

For a moment Uta doesn't know what to do, whether to resume his job to avoid your gaze and protect himself, or to risk looking at you, discovering your emotions.

Yet before he can decide, he feels your movement.

You don't even know what you're really doing, you just know that for some reason at that moment you need to feel him as much as possible, to understand, to fix yourself.

Kneeling on the cold floor, in the intimate solitude of the closed shop, you let your arms surround his waist without fear. Your head in his lap, nestled against him as much as possible.

He doesn't react, he just looks at you, blank in the face.

Suddenly he feels angry restlessness rising in him. What are you doing? He can't read it, what does it mean?

For some reason he can't really feel your hug, it's as if he doesn't contemplate it among the possibilities. You're hugging someone else there. Snuggled against his stomach, you are approaching human victims like you, not him. There is no bridge between you two, it is impossible to believe.

There is no way that you, little fragile human, can really accept something so big, he cannot ask it to you, he thinks ... and yet ...

"I like it ..." your words are light, shy, and even fearful. Afraid of the scope of what you are saying, of that bestial confession you are revealing "that you are a ghoul ... I like it ..."

And that's the hard truth. It's just something of him, it's him, it's something attractive.

It is attractive to know that those gentle lips could bite you and trap your flesh, that those light hands could tear you apart. That safe sense of danger he gives you is tempting, and the trust you place in him just makes you enjoy that awareness.

This is hard even for you to admit, but you cannot ignore it, nor leave him unaware.

And once again your words overturn his stage, destroy it and rebuild it according to a new conformity.

He is surprised, you can feel it from his breath that stops for a moment, jumps against your cheek.

One thing he loves about you is that he can't help but believe you. No matter how much those words may be at odds with everything life has taught him, if you say it then it's true for him.

His delicate fingers intertwine with your hair, light, almost shy. His hand caresses you patiently, aware, almost as if he is caressing a child, while he holds you there in a sweet constriction.

"Really?"

His calm question about him is not a request for confirmation, as much as wanting to hear you say the things he never has the words to say.

You rise from your seat, getting back on your feet, but unexpectedly you are prevented from walking away from him.

Now it's his arms that surround your waist, and you find yourself there, trapped between his knees and his arms, without being squeezed. His eyes look at you attentively, his bizarre face shows nothing but his calm composure - which does not at all reflect the vibrations of his heart -.

“I think… it's part of you, you wouldn't be the same otherwise. I like it."

You don't know with what courage you spoke those words, so sure and sincere.

You are not embarrassed, perhaps because you both love that little world that belongs only to you, where no one can see and hear you, that behind the scenes of the circus of life.

And it is your way of seeing reality that he likes, what he needs. That your putting Uta before the ghoul, that small and natural confirms that you always give him. This is what still gives many hope, the existence of someone like you, who knows how to see things in the order in which they should be seen. It is the principle for which love exists between humans and ghouls.

The light and affectionate smile that is painted on his lips is the confirmation that is needed, nothing else.

"I could eat you ..."

"I know" but you won't.

You should be food for him, you are. You are a possible meal, but you are also a person. You are someone. You talk, laugh, joke, cry, get angry ... and over time he has learned to want to keep it all, because he likes the way you are. Though you may be his source of life, just imagining feeding on you becomes painful for him. The thought of devouring you, of consuming you, of making you disappear from the world, of swallowing your body, your laughter and your tears, your voice calling his name… has become extremely painful.

And he's also sure you don't really know what you're saying, he's sure you want to change a lot of things about him if you only knew them, but for now it's okay that you only know that drama.

Indeed, no, it is not a scene. Uta is Uta, whole and sincere. What you know is the real and authentic facade of Uta that you deserve to know, there is nothing wrong with that, and he is sure you know it.

Everyone is modeled on relationships, you do too, but it's not that you are less true with him than with others.

The same goes for him, and despite this he is also aware that the affection that binds him to you will not change when he is talking to Renji, and not even when he is at the center of an auction. Uta is always Uta, and you are always you, no matter where you are or who you are with.

Two extremely complex creatures, monster and prey that still share something so profound and at the same time solid and concrete.

His lips curl slightly more, in a vague expression of veiled sweetness.

"Good."

His hand slips on the table as he stands up, but you don't notice it, too focused on seeing that the other hand hasn't given up on the touch on your hips.

Only when something lands on your face do you wake up. You do not understand it immediately, but the mask, still white and anonymous, is now on you, supported by him.

Before you can say anything or ask for an explanation, Uta is close to you, so close that you know you can feel the hard cover vibrating slightly on your cheeks under his breath.

It is still too early, everything is too delicate to utter certain words between you two, to give voice to deep and primitive feelings, which have nothing forbidden even though society would like you to believe.

It is not for fear that you will not admit what you both know, it is just for the pleasure of enjoying that moment, that moment before, that sweet harboring the affectionate secret.

This is why it is the stiff and cold lips of the mask that are kissed, a slight barrier that separates the delicacy of that touch from you.

A kiss that doesn't whet anyone's appetite, is just a silent admission of something extremely big.

And as the mask came, it goes away, returning to its place, leaving you uncovered and incredulous.

Uta also moves away, returning to turn his attention to the stock cabinet, abandoning you still and dazed in front of that almost dreamlike situation.

"Uta?"

"Yes?"

His answer is always ready as he rummages through the rolls of tissue.

"What was that?"

His quiet face of him turns to you, and you know him well enough to notice that slight amused glint in his eyes.

"What was what?"

“That! You know!"

A slight amused snort from him lets you know you'll never get your answers: "You must have daydreamed."

-End-

#tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul #uta x human reader #uta x reader #uta tg #tokyo ghoul headcanons #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul oneshot #request #tokyo ghoul uta

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morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #14

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

[AO3]

~POV Mori~

I woke up when it was still dark out. Only the faintest light came in my windows.

I hadn't done anything yesterday. Just laid down and rested for the first time in a long time. The doctor's were convinced I needed one more day of rest, but I knew I was already better. When was the last time I had just let my body rest like that when I wasn't sick? I couldn't remember. This peace was nice.

The quiet of sunrise was only broken by the faint sound of bird calls in the distance. I sat up and closed my eyes. I focused everything on my other senses. I couldn't hear the ocean easily from here. I had wanted to use the sounds of the waves to meditate, but I would just have to do without.

It had been a few days since I last checked in with myself and really focused inward. I could still feel them, all of the Black Rukh that had merged with me back in Balbadd. They were much calmer than before. And they felt like a part of me now, like I might be incomplete if they were suddenly gone. I knew each one from the dreams too. Their lives were mine and each also now knew my life as their own.

Going through all of their lives on the ship would have been painful even without being sick. These were angry souls and they did not welcome the inner peace I was offering easily, but a person's Rukh doesn't lie. After reading this world's truth through my memories they all calmed.

All of us lived lives of loss and poverty and trauma. That must have been another part of why we were able to fully merge in such a short time.

As Black Rukh they couldn't return to the Great Flow where the rest of their loved ones were, but they at least had each other within me.

It was a very strange feeling.

And along with their lives and Rukh, their magoi was also now mine. What had felt like a small pool now felt like a large lake. I had a lot more magoi at my disposal now that they were fully integrated with me.

The Great Bell range and I grounded myself in the present.

Only then did it occur to me that I was probably sick, and suffering from the influx of Rukh separately at the same time. It had been both all along. Whatever illness I had was worsened by my situation with the Rukh. I hadn't lost my magoi manipulation during it, but it was probably learning it ahead of time that had saved me. There's no way such a large amount of Rukh entering me wouldn't have made my body unstable.

Would the doctors understand if I explained it to them? I should ask Sinbad before saying something unnecessary.

The dim light from my windows called to me. I got out of my bed, put on my glasses, and sat on the sill of one them at the encouragement of the waves.

Like this, I could look down and see the Palace court yard. On the other side of the court yard were the Silver Scorpio (martial arts training), and Black Libra (libraries & schools) Towers, behind them to the left was the Red Cancer Tower (military) and fully to the left was the Purple Leo Tower where Sinbad lived. Since I was on a high floor I could easily see all of the towers of the Palace from my windows -all except the White Capricorn Tower where Ja'far does most of his work since that building was on the other side of this one.

It was so strange. Looking at all this made it real that I was really here. How many times had I reread or rewatched scenes wondering what it would feel like to be here?

I rested my head on the window frame as I watched the growing light from the sunrise.

The guards changed.

The sun was fully risen. Ja'far would be waking up Sinbad soon if he hadn't already.

Two people walked out of the Purple Leo Tower -a guard and a woman. She wasn't wearing a uniform. In fact she was wearing less than the citizens I saw the other day.

"Oh, right."

Sinbad has a call girl see to him after Ja'far wakes him up.

I had the 3rd fan book for the anime which contains a day-in-the-life for a bunch of the main characters. It was only in Japanese, but I had learned enough (and could look up what I didn't know) to at least read his schedule.

The direct translation was for a "temporary woman" which from what I've found is the Japanese term for a fem sex worker. I've seen some translations for Magi's extra material refer to them as "call girls" so that was the term I chose to use.

The franchise used the word "harem" in a bunch of places, but purposely didn't use it here. That combined with an omake of Sinbad having a nightmare about being married and having a harem made it clear that Sinbad did not have a harem; he had the whole red-light district of his country to choose from.

Hold on... That book wasn't supposed to reach my house until after I had Isekaied so how did I know it's contents? There were barely any scans or photos of pages online-

*Knock knock*

My thoughts

were cut off when breakfast arrived -with more medicine of course.

---

~POV Sinbad~

Nearly a week had passed since King Sinbad had arrived home. There was a lot to catch up on. As much as he wanted to finally relax after everything that happened in Balbadd he didn't really have the time for it. Even after catching up he would still have to prepare for his trip to the Kou Empire. And Ja'far wasn't letting him forget either responsibility.

None of this stopped him from having his slow mornings. He at least gave himself that little slice of heaven.

This was business as usual -at least it was supposed to be- but Sinbad couldn't shake a growing feeling that he couldn't name. It was making him unsettled. The waves didn't give him any answers and drinking hadn't made it go away. It felt similar to missing important.

He wasn't missing any paperwork. There had been an issue with one of their supply ships going missing, and another being delayed, but he had already decided how to proceed. He was definitely interested in the progress the Black Libra Tower was making with testing Mori's theories, but the experiments would take time and they had already scheduled a meeting for an update. The new guests were still settling in. Alibaba was a mess and Aladdin was only marginally better the last time he had visited, but Morgiana was fine and already training with Masrur regularly. According to the doctors reports, Mori would be better in another day or so, and the reports he got from the maids said she was resting every day after giving that partial scroll.

Maybe this was impatience. Aside from his paperwork, everything interesting was either done or waiting for the next step.

Sinbad often walked his country in the evening, but there was no reason he couldn't check on things now. He didn't have time to go for a walk at that moment, but he could spare the magoi needed to use Zepar and fly around the country using the bird he had possessed with the Djinn's power. This wouldn't be the first time he'd done this while working on paperwork.

The bird was sitting on a railing in the city center when Sinbad took over. From this spot he could make some quick rounds in the city and then maybe make a stop in the Black Libra Tower to get a sneak peak at what they had found out so far.

The same old gossip filled most of the streets. Some price complaints, who just had a child, how work was going...

"You're serious? A prophet?”

"My husband saw the scrolls she made from her visions with his own two eyes."

Now that was new gossip.

Sinbad had the bird land near by the two women.

"Oh? What was in them?"

"He said it was like reading secrets of the world."

"Really???"

"Mhmm." She nodded. "Not everyone believes it though so they are all working to test her writing."

"Didn't you just say she was brought in by our King? Do they really think he'd be fooled by some false prophet?"

"I said the same thing! And you know what my husband said? He said that they need to find proof even if they believe the Prophet because otherwise we won't be able to prove it to our allied countries."

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh! I think I might know what she looks like!”

"What? How? You only learned about her just now."

"When King Sinbad came home, there was a girl on some magical flying cloth, remember? That has to have been the Prophet!"

"I think you're right!"

To two moved on to some other gossip and King had the bird fly towards the Palace. Listening to talk about his Beautiful Prophet reminded him of his mission to peek at what was happening in the Black Libra Tower. Being able to bypass the stairs and the gates made the journey much faster.

The Sun was already in the western side of the sky. Shadows were cast onto the court yard from the Black Libra Tower. The stone of the Green Sagittarius Tower was nearly blinding white from the direct light. Color flashed in the corner of his eye as the bird flew past the upper levels of the guest tower. Before his thoughts had fully registered the familiar shade of nearly black indigo, Sinbad was guiding the bird to investigate. He landed on the railing of one of the windows and looked at the young woman resting against that same window's frame.

Mori looked just as surprised to see a bird land right in front of her as he was to be there. Sinbad had purposely been avoiding using Zepar to spy on Mori since she somehow knew that he had eavesdropped on her before. It had been days since he last saw her, so when she was suddenly an option-

"Heh hehe"

Mori's chuckle and smile took his full attention. He didn't know what had made her laugh, but he hoped she'd do it again.

"Sir, are you aware you are a bird?” After the words passed her lips she was struck by a giggle fit.

Sinbad had no idea what she was thinking or why she had said that to a bird, but he was hearing her voice for the first time in nearly a week so he'd worry about figuring it out later.

When Mori finished laughing at her own joke she leaned her head to the side and watched him. Her hair shifted and another lock spilled over her shoulder. The sight brought attention to the low neckline of the dress she was wearing. If Sinbad was there in person he would have brushed her hair out of the way just to have an excuse to touch her.

"Did you miss me that much?" Her voice was soft and a bit playful. "You didn't have to use Zepar to visit me."

Mori knew it was him! Sinbad jolted and his head hit the back of his chair in his office. How could she tell? Only magicians could see magoi and Rukh to see the spell active on the bird.

"Sin, is something wrong?-” Ja'far had just entered the room to give his afternoon report.

King Sinbad raised a hand for him to be quiet and tapped Zepar's ring to explain the situation. He didn't want to talk and miss something Mori said or did.

The General's expression turned serious and nodded as he went quiet.

When Mori didn't get a response from the bird she added, "Are you surprised that I knew it was you?" Her smile was warm as the sun. "I have read your Fate many times, so I will always recognize you, my King."

Normally, the idea that someone could see through Zepar's magic would concern him, but this didn't. It strengthened his belief that Fate had guided Mori to him.

And the affectionate way she said "my King" at the end made him smile. The waves had moved like this a few times like the last time he had seen her in person, and when he learned she could also feel the waves. The Great Flow of the Rukh was guiding them to the Fate he could see, the one where she lived the rest of her life by his side.

Ja'far sighed. "Just let me know when I can give you my report."

Mori whipped her head towards the door to her room. "They're here early."

There were the sounds of people walking in the hallway, but no voices to denounce who, or their destination. All the same, Mori got up and walked to the door. She opened it before the doctors had a chance to knock.

"How did you...?" One of the doctors asked.

"I recognized the sound of your footsteps," was her answer.

"I see.... And how are you feeling today?"

Mori walked into her room, and spared a glance at the bird still watching her from the window. "I feel fine. Just like yesterday." She turned back towards the door and sat on the edge of her bed. "So can I finally leave this room?"

The doctors were understanding but they still were going to do a full check up first.

Even without the waves it was obvious that Mori was going to be marked as full health. Sinbad would prefer to go see her immediately and give her a tour of the Palace personally, but he was still a King with responsibilities. "Ja'far, Mori has just been declared healthy. What do you think of everyone having dinner together to get everyone better aquatinted?"

"I didn't hear anything about-” Ja'far started and then cut himself when he realized. "Were you just using Zepar to spy on her??"

"Of course not." Sinbad said with all of the confidence of the King he was. "I flew directly to her and she recognized me instantly. I wasn't spying at all."

"She recognized you??" Of course he'd be shocked.

King Sinbad laughed. "She did. Though she was surprised to see me."

"I bet she was surprised to suddenly see a bird in her room. What made you think to use Zepar instead of visiting her in person? You're already getting regular reports on her condition." Ja'far always acted as a buzz kill.

It didn't stop Sinbad from laughing at the situation before finally asking for that report he postponed earlier -conveniently avoiding answering Ja'far's question.

The magician in Mori's room was talking. "Would you be interested in visiting the Black Libra Tower with us? We can show you how the experiments are going. And if possible, would you be willing to answer some questions?"

That was an understandable request, but it could wear her out.

The Prophet was facing away from the windows so Sinbad couldn't see her expression. "I'd really like that actually." But he could hear the excitement growing in her voice.

"Let me get changed real quick." Mori disappeared behind her folding wall and emerged in the outfit he met her in.

Sinbad did not drop control of the bird, but he also didn't follow Mori out of her room. Instead he waited in the window sill until he saw her enter the courtyard and then had the bird fly to the Black Libra Tower.

---

As soon as he finished whatever last minute things Ja'far was about to add to his pile, Sinbad would go to the Black Libra Tower and surprise his Beautiful Prophet in person.

~POV Mori~

In the manga and in the anime the only areas shown of the Black Libra Tower were Yamuraiha's office/lab and one of the libraries. I was more than curious about the rest of the facilities.

The first room seemed to be a reception area and had a map of the tower. I only got to glance at the separations between the libraries, offices and class rooms before a tall and lanky magician walked up to us.

"Is this her??” Her short ponytail bounced as she looked between me and my guides.

Isa, the magician who had been taking care of me the past few days, introduced me. "This is Lady Mori, the Prophet!” He acted like he was showing off the coolest toy on the playground.

The tall woman got right up in my face. "I knew she had to be the Prophet! The Rukh don't normally move this way around people."

Before I got to respond she started rambling comments and questions that covered everything in maroon and peacock blue getting sponged across a cream canvas. I stepped back and Isa cut her off. "Lady Mori will be answering everyone's questions in time. We were just on our way to see Yamuraiha so I can show her how everything has been coming along. You are welcome to join us."

She definitely joined us. As did many others who spotted us or were called over by others in our procession.

We walked through a few library areas, and up a few flights of stairs. As we passed various rooms and areas I was told what or who would be inside, but I wouldn't remember any of the specifics until I had a chance to use the space and explore on my own. What did stick was that most of the classrooms were next to the libraries and the labs were near the offices.

Yamuraiha must have heard our group from down the hall because her head popped out from one of the rooms ahead of us. "What is going on out here??” Then she made eye contact with me. "It's you!!"

That made me smile. I fought back responding 'it's me!' like I would with my friends. "I'm Mori. I'm glad I'm finally getting the chance to meet you, Yamuraiha!” I stopped walking when I got 3 yards/meters away.

She immediately pulled her staff against her chest with both hands. Her shoulders tensed but she had an enthusiastic smile. "The pleasure is all mine!"

Yamuraiha was amazing, smart, and endearing. I really wanted to be friends with her.

I out stretched my hand to shake hers. "I'm really excited to work with you, and learn more about magic even though I'm not a magician."

"The feeling is mutual!” She took my hand more than matching my excitement. And when she released it said, "Since you're here, would you like to see what we've been working on from the scrolls you gave us?"

"Yes please!”

---

The lab she lead us to was a little down the hall. All of my scrolls were spread out on one table and a bunch of notes and different materials were on an other.

Yamuraiha pulled out parchment that had a complicated magic circle written on it. "We can't do much yet, and it still takes a catalyst and many magicians at once to control the amount of magoi safely but our alchemy magic has made a breakthrough from your writing."

She asked a few of the magicians that came with me to join her. They pointed their staffs and wands at the magic cycle. A large crystal in the room started glowing, and the Rukh lit up the space from within the circle. Specks were pulled out of the pile of ingredients nearby -dirt, scraps paper, a small potted plant- and gathered at the center of the circle. The light got too bright for me to look straight at it and when it faded there was a small dark grey cube in the middle of the circle. It looked like a die with no markings.

Yam explained. "After reading about 'atoms' and 'bonds' in your scrolls it was like finding the missing piece. It will still be a long time before we can perfect the process, and we still can't make anything bigger than this yet, but soon we will be able to make anything we want!"

((In the future I intend to: reference more old memes, describe more of my experience with synesthesia, and explain more basic history and science. SO you all have been warned lol))

I had to respond; I couldn't just continue staring in awe. When I tried to answer I ended up gasping since had forgotten to breathe. I chuckled at my own shock as well as the situation. I looked up at them. "You're all amazing to be able to develop this already from the little I wrote!" I looked back at the stone. "I knew I wrote the keys to Yunan's signature alchemy magic in those scrolls, but to think you've already gotten this far with it -its amazing."

With this -when developed farther- we could make certain materials without having to worry about the pollution, and break things down easily so we won't have to worry about garbage piling up everywhere.

"Did you say Yunan? The Magi, Yunan?" Yamuraiha looked at me with wide eyes.

"Yes." It was my turn to explain. "Yunan is able to use alchemy magic like this on a grand scale. In the Fates I read he will have reason to visit Sindria in about 2 years. He creates a cabin and food in the middle of the Palace court yard so he has somewhere comfortable to stay."

The bird in the window ruffled it's feathers.

"Yunan explains the basic concept of how that magic works when asked, and since I know the science of the physical world I know the details to what he was talking about." My smile widened. "I hope my notes were easy to understand. Please let me know if you have any questions."

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad #sinbadxoc

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myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 · 2 years

Text

SPIKED DRINK

Guess I'm just going back to the present. Present William with Elenore.

**************

" You called for me?" William greeted Elenore in the morning. She was wearing a lot more casual clothing but still lavish. Outdoor wear for leisure. Her white hair was tied back and she had on simple jewelry.

"You've been cooped up in there for so long and only just recovered Will."

"I'm finished. It's complete."

After he got sidetracked because he got sick he immediately began work after he recovered. Unamused by this sudden care. He still hadn't forgiven her before.

"I heard and I'm happy......... I just thought I would let you have a day out." She hesitated with her words. She knew she hurt him but she wanted to be with him just a bit more before he left. Look at this the emperor felt shy asking her brother for a day out.

"What is this Elenore?" He sighed.

He didn't look like he was in the mood.

Elenore smiled.

"Nothing, just a sister wanting to spend time with her brother."

He looked at her a little confused but also tired. He hadn't slept in a while and he just wanted this to be over.

" Won't you entertain me before you leave?" She pleaded. Looking a little sad. Imagine people seeing the Empress, pleading this way.

"Elenore what's going on? What are you going to do with this?" He asked again. Last time she refused to tell him. But he deserved to know since he was making it.

"Let's eat William." She dodged the question.

"Elenore." He called. Putting his hands on her shoulders. He was taller than her and looked down into her eyes.

She looked away.

She couldn't tell him. His life could be in danger if she did.

"William please." Her voice quivered. This was heavy on her and she was tired. Those days taking care of him were a break and turmoil. She hated that she was the reason her brother pushed himself so hard.

William let go of his sister. This really was hard for her and he knew her well enough to not push further he'll just have to trust her.

"Alright let's eat." He gave in and let go.

She nodded and walked away.

He walked to his room to clean up. When he was done a servant guided him to the eating spot.

He arrived outside to a garden.

This wasn't like the one they grew up in. Thinking of it he missed it.

They had some fun memories there.

For such a long time, Elenore was his hero. He looked up to her. He still does.

***********

He settled at the small table set in the shade of a stone arch with flowers growing on it.

Elenore was seated waiting for him.

The table was set beautifully, obviously. With some of his favorite foods.

There were two attendants beside the table.

They pulled the chair for him and laid food on the plate. William felt something was not right somehow.

He dropped a fork and called one of the attendants. Particularly the boy.

"Excuse me, could I please get a second fork? This one's dirty."

Elenore looked up at her brother, noticing how unusual that was for William.

"Yes sir" The boy took the fork and headed inside.

The boy didn't address him as royalty.

William looked at Elenore to find her smiling. Knowing she had done something.

He leaned forward over the table and whispered.

"No one knows who you really are here. Only a select few."

He smiled.

" Let's switch drinks." He said playfully.

Whatever he suspected was definitely in the drinks.

"That's unusual." She chuckled. He's still petty.

"Yours has more flavor." William argued, smiling. Almost like he wasn't angry before. Just like they were having another day together.

"You're still petty. Alright"

They switched plates. He couldn't smell anything from the food.

"Here you are sir." The boy came back with his new clean fork.

"Thank you." He took the fork from the boy.

"How long have you been working here?"he asked the boy before he went away.

"I started a few days ago sir."

"Alright." He sent the boy away.

Elenore raised an eyebrow. Why was he interested in the boy?

After that was over Elenore and William began to eat.

It really was a beautiful day and William seemed relaxed. Everyone knows him as her childhood best friend with no title really.

He wore some clothes she got from his old room. Nothing too fancy anyway.

"So what have you been up to, William?" She asked a little while after they began eating.

She had been thinking of the best way to get him to talk about his life. But I couldn't think of the right way to ask. She missed so much of his life.

"Empress, let's eat first then we'll talk. We wouldn't want to choke." He said casually.

It may be her title but hearing him use it was uncomfortable and he would call her by her name.

It confused her but she'll talk to him later it seems.

"Uhm ....... Okay." He was acting weird the moment they got here.

But she allowed it, she'll ask him later.

***********

They finished the meal finally.

"Thank you, this was wonderful." William smiled at the boy and the other attendant as they grabbed their plates.

Elenore nodded. Raising another eyebrow at her brother. He was a polite person, sure but this felt too unusual.

She brushed that off but then William motioned his hidden hand in a way that said 'don't talk'

When the attendants left them alone he lowered his hand.

"Alright now we can talk?" She asked a little annoyed now. Is this how he felt being left in the dark?

With that William stood and walked over to her chair and bowed. That wasn't right.

The next thing he said really caught her more off guard.

"Excuse me Empress but I need to excuse myself a bit."

Since when did he need her permission to leave?

She just stared at him. Trying to comprehend the entire afternoon. He wasn't himself, he really was acting like someone she didn't know. Was he playing a prank on her or punishing her?

"Yes......go." she said. Finally getting to answer. Before he left he placed a piece of paper on the table.

When he turned his back she picked it up and understood.

**********

William had been following the boy all day to see what he was planning and who he was working with.

He followed the boy to the edge of the forest and watched as he led down something on the ground. He couldn't see it but he was sure someone would come and collect it.

As he walked away. William went to inspect it. It was a note saying what he had suspected. They were trying to poison his sister.

The boy made his way to the castle through the servants' entrance. As he entered to get to his chambers he was met by a dark figure. He couldn't make out who it was since it was evening but as the figure moved closer into the moonlight he saw white hair and blue eyes.

' the empress?' he thought confused but then the figure was much taller.

It was her childhood friend.

"Sir. What.......... What are you doing here?" He stammered. How long had he been there? Was he watching him?

"Who sent you?" William demanded.

"Excuse me sir?.......... What do you mean?" The boy asked acting dumb.

"You tried to poison my si......... You tried to poison the Empress." William growled. He almost blew his cover. Somehow he couldn't control his anger.

" No sir, I would do no such thing. What are you saying?" He still chose to act dumb. After all such an accusation carries a death sentence.

William moved closer looking at the man. His blue eyes were cold and furious.

He stopped in front of the man glaring in his eyes.

He moved closer to the boy

"Really? I can smell small traces on you. Though it's faint, I'm experienced enough to notice it." His voice was threatening.

The man was visibly terrified. William can be intimidating when his eyes look like they're filled by a raging blizzard. The man moved back from him.

"You can't accuse me of treason based on smell." He stammered back.

"Then explain your rash." William demanded pulling at the man's hand to reveal a terrible rash with red and blue spots on it.

"Allergies." He answered, yanking his arm away from William's grasp.

He tried to go the other way but William blocked his way again.

"There are other ways to prove what you did. You didn't handle it properly so your body will show signs. A rash is one of them. Have your arms been twitching? Headaches?"

The man's eyes widened. That's been happening lately. How did this man know who........ Who was he?

"How did you?.......... Get out of my way." He tried shoving William to the ground but was subdued and before he knew it, William had his hand behind his back and head pressed to the wall.

"I'm not going to let you go until you tell me who you work for?" He demanded again, directly into the man's ear.

He twisted the man's arms a little too much.

" Let go of me!" The man shouted, struggling against William's grip but failing.

William was losing patience with him. He pushed harder

"Tell.........." he began but was suddenly overcome with a severe dizzy spell. His vision blurred and he felt like his legs were floating. He fell to the ground because of the vertigo. Looking up to the sky as the stars warped and the moon danced.

He tried to get up but easily fell to the ground.

The poison was working much quicker that he thought. Hopefully Philip was done with the antidote.

A dark figure came into his vision but he couldn't see what it was.

Before he could figure it out, a kick to his rib knocked the air out of him.

"Coming after me when you are sick isn't such a good idea." The man smirked. He kicked William again.

William curled up on his side coughing and gasping for breath. Each involuntarily deep breath was painful.

The man turned from William. He had to pack up and get away. His job was done anyway.

Before he could go he was stopped by another dark figure, one with white hair but this was the real Empress. His heart sank.

" Going somewhere?" She asked as guards appeared behind her. One of them was Gwendolyn, she was in charge of the defense and Elenore's wife.

The man staggered backwards. This can't be? How is she....... Still healthy.

"No you're supposed to be dying. I put it in your drink and it should be working now." He shook his head at the realization that he messed up but how. He was sure it was in her drink.

"That's a confession." William said from behind. He was out of breath and was sweating terribly. He leaned on the wall to support him.

The man looked back at him, his terror turned to anger as he realized William spoiled his plans.

"You...... How dare?" He moved to William with the intent to kill but was stopped by two guards that held him back and led him away.

He was shouting profanities and threats towards William as he was led away.

Elenore saw the state her brother was in. What happened?

He just left a note in the afternoon saying he didn't trust the staff member and to meet him out here later and left. She gathered some guards and headed to the servants entrance to find him like this.

William's legs gave out as he slid down the wall.

"William." Elenore rushed to his side. He didn't look good, he was sweating, his eyes were half closed and had a dazed look in them and his breathing was shallow.

Finally he looked at her, he smiled.

" It's fine. Just a little bruised." He breathed out. Then he began coughing violently, having to move to the side. He opened his hand to reveal blood spots.

"You're not okay." Elenore stated.

He brushed it off and tried to stand up to prove something.

He stood up straight for a second then he felt extremely lightheaded and his vision darkened.

Elenore caught him as he fell forward in her arms. He was not okay.

She laid him down with his head in her lap.

"William. William." She called for him, shaking his shoulders.

His eyes fluttered open looking unfocused and tired.

He began to cough violently again, revealing more blood spots. His breathing was shallow again.

Elenore put the pieces together. That's why he wanted her plate.

"Is this poison? Why did you do this?" She asked, having to shake him awake again.

His eyes opened slightly again. He looked up at her barely. He smiled up at her. This was kind of like in the garden.

"Didn't........ Want you to get hurt." His voice was weak. His head fell to the side as he fainted again this time she couldn't wake him. His breathing was still labored.

"I have to get you to Philip. Quickly."

Some guards came to where she was.

One of the guards just picked him up like nothing. He was the one that brought William in for the first time. He is a big man who resembles a giant. In his arms William looked small.

As they got into the light more she noticed how pale he was and blood was still drooling from his mouth, he wasn't breathing right.

She tried to hold her tears back seeing her brother like that and it was her fault, made her feel so helpless. What kind of older sister is she?

***********

Finally they got to Philip who already had a solution for William. It takes a while to get ready and William hoped the poison wouldn't work until it was done.

Philip was shocked at how sickly the prince looked. He gave him the antidote then turned to Elenore.

"It's alright, he'll be fine." He said to the crying and shaking ruler.

Elenore had war in her mind. That's what that woman wanted and it's what she'll get. She won't spare anyone that hurts her family.

*************

@irathgo @smellofsnoww @luna-rein

@febuwhump

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tossawary · 3 years

Note

Hey, I just had a thought, and since you write SQH so well, I wanted to know what you think and how you might write this. So, I headcannon SY as very sick in his last life but also from a wealthy family so he has plenty of money to spare. So since we know Airplane was writing for money, what if after the first few chapters that Airplane posted, before too much had to be sacrificed for papaya for money, SY sent a comment or something that basically said, you were doing so good, the hell is this? Are you trying to write for money? Because I will pay you to keep your writing the way it was. And since SQH had said before that he hadn't wanted to sacrifice so much of his story for money, he takes SY up on it. I mean, at first, he was sarcastic back to SY since he didn't think SY would actually follow through. But they work something out and SY basically is Airplanes patron, with the caveat that they never meet. So they still eventually transmigrate but into more of how Airplane wanted his story to be. What do you think?

Thanks! I think that’s an interesting concept and a fun setup! How I would go about it would totally depend on the main character and the main relationship(s) of the fic, and what I wanted to explore with those characters and that relationship. It sounds like either Airplane or Shen Yuan would be the MC here and that Cucumberplane friendship at least would be present.

There’s really lots of different fics present in that premise!

Just the backstory itself might make a fun one shot. Like, a couple thousand words about these two assholes somehow manage to form a genuine human connection over stallion novels on the internet? I think that could be funny and oddly sweet. With some fun themes about how wish fulfillment and past resentments come out in stories and our perceptions of them.

But I could also see Shen Yuan deciding not to engage in a real relationship with Airplane at all. Like, not just them not meeting in person, but maybe Shen Yuan decides to back off because he doesn’t want to “take over” Airplane’s creative process? Denying them a potential friendship? Maybe he’s partly embarrassed over the fact that he basically “keeps” an artist, except he’s the patron of the author of tropey web-novels. (Shen Yuan: “No offense, Airplane, but I would rather tell my parents I’m paying for an expensive new drug addiction.” Airplane: “Little bit of offense taken, but also, haha, I get it.”)

So, going into the transmigration, the way I’d approach it would definitely depend on the relationships I wanted to explore. If it was about LBH and SY, it would probably be about Shen Yuan unable to cope with knowing Luo Binghe is destined to be a bitter and alone “man who has everything”. And Shen Yuan (idk whether he’s SQQ in this one) clumsily trying to lead Luo Binghe away from that sad ending of trusting no one, despite the harsh world.

I am assuming that MBJ and SQH would not be the forefront of this idea because I don’t think their situation would change that much?

The relationship popping out at me here is Cucumberplane (which I could see being done platonically or romantically) and the question is whether or not you want to give them the same canonical transmigration time difference. I would personally find it a little difficult to pull off a romance with the decades-long difference if they weren’t actually friends before transmigration, otherwise I imagine Airplane would have moved on from that acquaintance-ship. 30-40 years is a long time to be without someone.

I guess whatever the situation, if the focus was SY and Airplane’s relationship, then it would be the two of them versus Airplane’s depressing worldview. Like, yeah, it was kind of interesting to read, but do the two of them really want to live that sort of story? And you could do some fun stuff with two shut-ins actually engaging with a fantasy world and trying to discover for themselves what the best parts of life are. That is, if they have any ability to manipulate the plot when they arrive, and it’s not just “mission objective: survive” time for them.

#spideypoolalways #ask tossawary #tossawary svsss #fic ideas #cucumberplane patron au #cucumberplane #shang qinghua #shen yuan

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afandommultiverse · 4 years

Text

The Gift - Leopold Vermillion

Words - 2006 Request - TreueHyuga

A/n - I hope you enjoy it! I had a really fun time writing this one! Leopold is aged up to 18! So, so are you lol.

Y/n POV

"Come to think of it, your birthday is coming up, isn't it, Y/n?" Leopold grinned wolfishly at his girlfriend, pumped with excitement and happiness due to the celebration around them, the celebration for him! His birthday, his coming of age day.

"It is, Leo, why are you gonna plan a surprise party for me too?" You lured him close giving him a smooch on the cheek. It was you who planned the whole thing for Leopold tonight, the director of the whole galant party. It was a great surprise party, Leopold hadn't suspected a thing, some can choose whether that's a good or bad thing.

"No. Maybe. We'll see, won't we, my dear?" Leopold's arms wrapped around you, pulling tight and leaning in closely. His hand skimmed up your waist and back down your arm, pulling your arm out and whisking you to the dance floor.

"Another dance? We just got done with five!" You shrieked, pulling your exhausted legs after him. Pure adrenaline and euphoria powered your body, swinging it around and following his steps. Laughing and tripping some, maybe even almost running into a few people too.

"Never my dear, I never want to stop dancing with you. I promise this is my last selfish birthday wish." He smiled, twirling you in and dipping you to the music. You smirked and leaned in, mirth and tease swimming in your eyes.

"I wouldn't mind a few more selfish wishes." You whispered as he pulled you up, hand slithering across his chest and resting at his heart. Your voice practically poured incentive, selfish questions, and desires Leopold had wanted to ask you for years poured into his mind as he stared into your eyes, completely suggestive and seductive in their e/c shaded wake. He pulled you up fast, pulling to hold your hand against his racing heartbeat.

"Y/n, you ha-

"Leopold!" A fiery hand came to rest on Leopold's shoulder, stopping the much-anticipated words that would have left Leo's mouth. He turned, almost giving his brother the stinky eye but couldn't help but to smile. His brother had been gone for a few months, having to go on a long expedition. Giving you a quick apologetic look and a kiss on the palm of your hand, once laying against his chest, he let you go.

You were immediately cold, already missing his insufferable heat you just learned to live with, and heat you learned to love. You watched on as he chatted with his older brother, not blaming him for being so excited, it had been months. You pulled at his jacket coat twice to let him know you were leaving and he nodded, grabbing you're pinky and rubbing at it before letting you go.

"So, finally eighteen, huh?" Fuegoleon smiled at his younger brother, who now stood as tall and as prideful as the rest of his lion clan. Fuegoleon knew he was ready, and knew he would make a fine captain one day, maybe sooner than later.

"It seems so." Leopold grinned, he was jittery and bouncing with excitement, how couldn't he be?

"You might be trying to play it off but I know exactly what you're up to." Fuegoleon looked at Leo, completely aware of his little game.

"Your right brother, only 59423 hours and 45 seconds left to beat you in becoming the captain of the Crimson lions. I think I can't get there before 25!" He grinned like a cat, eyes glinting with just as much point and mischievousness. He loved wagering with his brother, especially when it came to how powerful he could get. It meant more training!

"You are crazy... I'd like to see you try!" Fuegoleon huffed, shaking his head and walking away a smile hidden behind his back as he walked towards other guests. Leopold would make it alright, Fuegoleon was sure of that.

Leopold turned to look around for you, his looking over every person before they found him, draped across a wall and staring at him playfully, pointing a doorway. He grinned and looked around, before practically running towards you, picking you up and running to his room for nightly festivities.

***

Your birthday was in three days. Seventy-two hours. Four thousand and twenty minutes. Two hundred and fifty-nine thousand and two hundred seconds- WHAT WAS HE GOING TO DO? He had been going back and forth for two days, thinking of what he should get you. Leopold had already finished with the planning, he knew he couldn't do a surprise party, because not only had you done one for him, you were too smart and Leopold couldn't keep anything away from you.

"Maybe Fuego or Leona could help." He muttered to himself, staring at the same paperwork he had been staring at for the last two hours.

"Could help with what?" Leopold practically jumped out of his skin, completely endorsed what to get you, he did expect you to be right behind him.

"Y/n? Oh! Uh, maybe they could help with this- this uh, work here, something about... uh- blown up houses or something- uh what are you doing here, dear?" He pushed the pages away and turned to face you, smiling almost too widely. You stared at him weirdly.

"You okay?" You asked, coming to put a hand on his head, feeling to see if he was warmer than usual. He wasn't, only flushed and a little sweaty. You wiped your hand off on him and walked up, coming to sit on his lap sideways.

"Our mothers took me out dress shopping for my birthday gala, it was incredibly boring and so tedious!" You rested your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and relaxing as he lifted his hand to comb through the beginnings of your hair, his fingers tickling the skin on the side of your face now and then when he repeated the motion.

"Luckily I found a gorgeous dress though." You turned your head to look up at him. His smile was as bright as usual as he smiled down at you, hand coming to rest against your cheek as he spoke.

"That's good. I'm sure It'll look gorgeous as I'm taking it off you." He whispered cheekily leaning in for a blazing kiss. You slapped at his chest jokingly, meeting his kiss with just as fevore and love as him.

Pulling apart, you two wanted nothing more than to continue, but Leopold still had decisions to make, and your mother still wanted to go jewelry shopping with you. So with one last craving kiss, you got up and left, leaving Leopold to go searching for his brother and sister.

***

"What should I get Y/n for her birthday?" Fuegoleon and Mereoleona stared down at Leopold with little interest.

"This is what you pulled us away for?" Mereoleona growled, staring at her little brother with anger but happy that he had come to her for advice. He never does, always opting for stupid Fuegoleon- who by the way, is the second born.

"This is serious! I can't think of a single thing! I've already gotten her everything before, and I sure as hell am not going to get some boring gifts, it's gotta be perfect!" Leopold crying looked at his older sibling with pleading eyes. Mereoleona sighed and rolled her eyes while Fugoleon simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, what do they like?"

***30 Minutes Later***

"And they also-"

"Okay! Leo, we got it! Let's move on!" Meroleona stopped Leopold from splurging any more useless information, already sick of his lovesick stories of you. Meroleona sat back and thought hard, she too stuck on what Leopold should get, if he hadn't already of gotten it for you, it was simply too stupid enough to get then. Finally, though, Fuegoleon spoke up.

"Leo, do you love Y/n?" Fuegoleon held Leopold's eyes, ready for a slipping leak of deceit, but found none when he strongly replied.

"Are you serious? Of course, I love them! Hell, I've loved them my entire life it feels! They are always there for me, always have been! Without them, I wouldn't be nearly as powerful as I am today. Without them, I don't think I would have ever made it this far. I can't even begin to think of what my life would be like without them." Leopold spoke with such ferocity it left him almost breathless, his chest burning with the love for you. Fuegoleon only looked on in amusement.

"Well brother, I think you know what to do."

***

The party was beautiful, walls draped in f/c silks, your favorite. Flowers of all kinds filling every vase dotted across tables and window seals, some even hanging from the ceiling. Entertainers performed around you, showing off for the guests and patrons. Music filling the gigantic halls of the ballroom, sending magical melodies swirling around the room. It had been a night of dancing and drinking, good food, and sweet desserts. Laughs and jokes were shared with good friends and guild members.

As the night grew colder and fatigue slipped into everyone's exhausted bodies, [pulling them to leave and seeking sleep in their beds and homes. Leopold had swooped you up and carried you out of the ballroom, pushing past departing guests and banquet wanderers with genuine goodbyes and courtesies, hoping to see each other again.

"Where are we going, Leo?" You asked, confused and he walked out in the night air of the castle, finding a special mage standing near, opening a portal and nodding us in, a warm smile on his face.

"To you're last birthday present, my dear." Fuegoleon smiled and walked through the portal, walking out into a forested area. You looked around, taking in the change of environment. A wooden cabin layout in front of you two, covered in vines and foliage. Fireflies lit up the entrance, buzzing around a small bridge passing over a little creek in front of the little cabin. As we walked across you watched as the fireflies buzzed around brightly, spooked and startled by the walking of Leopold's steps. You giggled as they flew around you and Leopold, some even going to the water and lighting it up, making out the shapes of fish and lily pads dotting the water's surface.

"Leo, this is beautiful." You whisper, looking up at the spiraling trees, watching the stars shine and twinkle down on you. Leopold only smiled at your astonished face, quick to get you inside and show you your final gift.

Leopold opened the door, walked in, and set you down. As you walked around the warm cabin, taking in the decorations and personal trinkets Leopold had brought, to what he would hopefully like to call your new home. Leopold watched as you took in everything, reaching in his pocket and grabbing your gift, getting down to rest on one knee. He waited for you to turn back around, looked at him questioningly, and watched the slow realization dawn on your face as he lifted the little box and showed you what lay inside.

A gorgeous ring, detailed to a royals perfection, with the stunning vermillion house sigil carved on the outside. A vermillion diamond rests between the golden prongs holding it in place.

"Leo." A hand covers your mouth as you look at him in shock and astound. "Do you mean it?" You asked, walking over quickly and staring down at the man you love holding your next step in his hands.

"I would never lie or joke about something like this, Y/n. I love you, and I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I can't live without you." Leopold spoke, eyes staring up at her with honest truth.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!! Of course, I'll marry you!" Leopold jumped up quickly and wrapped you in a breathless kiss, bringing you in tightly and finally letting go of all his anxiety of you saying no, no it was too early or something, but he needn't worry now.

You said yes.

#Black Clover #black clover leopold #leopold vermillion #leopold vermillion x reader #xreade #aged up #fluff #marriage #proposal #request #proud of this shit #black clover oneshot #fluffly #vermillion siblings

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bounty-in-the-eye-of-the-mando · 3 years

Text

Author's Note: So this is my first Mandalorian fic. It came to me on a whim following me listening to the song Written in the Stars by a band called Westlife. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: None

"Cause when I look at my life

How the pieces fall into place

It just wouldn’t rhyme without you

When I see how my path

Seems to end up before your face

The state of my heart

The place where we are

Was written in the stars"

FLASHBACK

You found yourself leaning against the wall of the bunker, occupying the little green being with some bubbles that you’d bought downtown while paying a fleeting visit to Jedha. He was fascinated with them, cooing away in contentment. His sizable green-brown eyes gazed in awe at the bubble forming from the wand in your bandaged hand. You’d ended up accidentally slashing your palm open on some metal that was hanging by a thread on the rear side of the Razor Crest while Mando was out on a hunt. He’d been gone a few days, so he was unaware of your injury, but even when he came back, you’d immediately slipped some gloves on. Well, it was cold so it’s a viable excuse. “You like these little one?” you cooed in excitement to Grogu, who was still so wide-eyed, and flashing a little toothy smile. He began to giggle, and more so when he turned to face out of the bunker. “Mando-“ you stammered, not even considering the fact your bandaged hand was in plain sight, “I-I-didn’t hear you coming.” He crouched down, full beskar, in the doorway, “He loves these. What did you do to your hand cyra’ika?” His modulated voice, full of concern as he reached out for you to place your hand in his. “I-I-it’s a long story, but when we were on Jedha, I was outside the ship playing with Grogu and I caught my hand on a damaged metal sheet that was hanging off the side. I managed to fix it though.” “Let me see,” he whispered. You placed the bubble wand back in the tub, and reluctantly placed your hand in his. You were terrified – mainly because you were never one for physical contact with anyone. The thought of it turned you sick. The only physical contact you had within the past year was with Grogu – he always demanded you pick him up – but he was different. He was a baby. Mando was not. He was silent as he studied the bandage, his breathing sounding raspy through his modulator. Before you knew it, he removed his gloves. That’s when you first had a glimpse of the man underneath the armour. His hands, large, covered in callouses, were a perfect golden colour - he wasn’t pale like you. Your skin resembled that of a corpse – deathly white. And even though his hands were intimidatingly large, they were gentle. He carefully unravelled the bandage. Silence enveloped you both, with the exception of the odd grumble or coo from Grogu. “Cyar’ika, this looks painful,” he murmured as he focused on the injury on your now upturned palm, “you need to be healed.” How was I going to be healed? you thought. You’d used a bacta-shot so there was no way you were going to get an infection. “Kid, do your thing,” Mando addressed Grogu, who was gazing at us both, “you get to sleep and then play with your bubbles later.” Grogu chirped, blinking incessantly at Mando. He shuffled around a little and then lifted his arms, his three-fingered hands moving about as if he wanted to be picked up. “I can’t little one. My hand is injured, and I don’t have the bandage on,” you said, guilt in your voice. “He’s not wanting to be picked up,” Mando explained, “he’s going to do his healing thing.” Before you could even argue, Grogu, in complete concentration mode, started to wiggle his fingers around more. Your gaze averted to your injured hand, it was beginning to heal.

With Grogu having been asleep for what seemed like an eternity, you felt lost. Your mind was starting to race overtime and you could feel the psychological pressure form in your head – the thing was, you had a million and one questions. Would Mando answer? Who knows? He was a silent type normally, never really answering questions – either because he couldn’t, wouldn’t or shouldn’t. It was hard to tell. He always remained a complete mystery, but that was the thing, unlike many, you enjoyed mystery – you didn’t like finding out too much all at once. It was the sure-fire way of losing interest. You decided enough was enough and finally left Grogu to join Mando in the cockpit. He was focusing on what was in front of him. As you sat in the chair, you didn’t utter a word, fearful of breaking his concentration. Your eyes scanned over his entire form, watching him. “You need to make the staring a little less obvious,” a voice, with the underlying tone of a laugh broke the silence. He hadn’t even turned around, but he knew it was you. “So, he’s sarcastic when he wants to be,” you bit back at him to the best of your ability, eyes still fixed on him. Everything fell silent once more. “Mando, I’ve been with you for the past year, and although I’m grateful, I just feel like, I-I-don’t know you.” As he was about to respond, his tracker beeped erratically, “We need to land.”

PRESENT DAY

All the days seemed to roll into one. You’d been on Tatooine for three months now. Mando was hardly around and he took the Razor Crest with him. For the first time in a long time, You felt neglected. And hurt. Peli Motto, a mechanic who Mando knew well, put you up in digs so you were safe from harm’s way. She didn’t have to, but she did. She owed him, and he was grateful for her goodwill gesture, and so were you. “You still waitin’ for him? He’ll come back y’know.” You turned your head to look at her over your shoulder, breaking your gaze from the landscape in front of you, “I want him back for his sake.” “He’ll come back for both of you,” Peli smiled, as she stroked Grogu’s ear. Grogu held on to you so tight, night after night. He missed Mando terribly. You were his only source of comfort. “I don’t know where he goes, who he goes after,” you sighed, squeezing Grogu tighter, “I tried contacting him the other night because this little womp rat gets restless if he doesn’t hear his voice. I just don’t know where to go anymore with any of this. I’m terrified Peli.” Peli led you away from the balcony to sit you down, “You love him, don’t you?” I don’t know – do I? was all you could think of saying but your brain wasn’t connecting well with your vocal cords, so you failed to speak. Peli smiled warmly, her eyes jumping from you to Grogu constantly, “Because I know for a fact, he loves you. May not show it very well to you, but when you’re on the outside looking in, it’s the most obvious thing since this little one is green.” You were overcome by a wave of emotion - you felt elated, shocked, deceived and sick, but also happy. It felt like you were surrounded by a breath of fresh air yet hit by an oncoming herd of Bantha. “Has he-,” Peli gulped, uncertain whether she has said too much, “has he ever told you?” You surveyed Peli’s facial expressions, “He’s never told me a thing.” You weren’t sure if this was a good or bad thing, but that was something you never disclosed to one another. The only one whose feelings mattered was Grogu’s. You both wanted him to be happy, comfortable, safe and loved. Nothing more, nothing less. Grogu’s cooing made you snap back to reality, and with that, Peli had announced her departure from the room, “I’ll be in the workspace if you need me, but trust me, he’ll be back.”

You sat trying your hardest to digest the words Peli had spoken. You couldn't make sense of any of it. Were you too worried over Mando? Were you worried over Grogu? Were you worried that if he did love you, you weren't good enough? Everything just kept spinning around and around in your mind, which was just in a complete mess. Grogu knew something was wrong. He twisted himself around in your lap so he was face to face with you. His gigantic eyes met yours. What was he thinking? Could he sense how you were feeling? Cooing, he stretched his little hand out toward your cheek. The touch of his hand on your face caused fluttering in your heart. This was the first time you'd felt love - like a mother's love - for someone that never belonged to you. Someone you'd only spent just over a year looking after. You felt a tear roll down your cheek, as you couldn't peel your eyes away from this little being, "I promise you, that whatever happens, I'll always be with you."

It had been weeks since Peli told you about Mando. Although you hadn't let it play on your mind too much, you'd find yourself tending to go back on it every so often, especially as you watched Grogu go to sleep. Watching his perfect little form sleeping so peacefully, his little nose twitching as he drifted off into a dream. He decided to not want to sleep in his crib for a long time, more or less the length of time Mando was gone. You carefully moved about as Grogu slept. Cleaning his crib, you noticed something small, like it was wrapped. You couldn't remember giving anything to Grogu but then did Mando? You wanted to open it, but then you didn't want it to be seen as some sort of betrayal. You mulled over it for some time before making the rash decision to open it.

You sat on the bed. The item you'd pulled from Grogu's crib, on your lap. Carefully, you began unwrapping. When done, the item that was wrapped ever so tightly was now in full view. It was a pendant. A pendant of the Mandalore. Why was it left in with Grogu? You knew that this was only given to those who were deemed part of the creed. This clearly meant that Grogu was indeed part of the Mandalore. You studied the pendant in awe, your heart feeling as though it was being tugged. The little baby you looked after actually belonged somewhere, and you were happy. But what happened to you if Mando didn't return? Did it cover you both? As you pondered, your mind ran away, a million and one thoughts ravaged your brain. You were so deep in your escape that you didn't realise Grogu had woken up until he tugged at your sleeve, "Hey little one, it's ok." Grogu cooed, stifling a yawn. You found him snuggling up to you, and trying to see what you had in your hand. "You're so inquisitive," you chuckled, "it's a special Mandalorian symbol. And it's all yours." As you began to show him what it was, he tried grabbing it, "No baby, I'll look after it for you. You'll try eating it." Grogu grumbled, but not for long. He began babbling, looking up at you all doe-eyed. "Bubbles?" Flashing his little toothy grin, you picked him up, placing the pendant in your pocket and went hunting for the tub of bubbles.

Heading outside, you could hear Peli fixing machinery, either a droid or a glider of some sort. You placed Grogu down on an upside down crate and began to blow the bubbles in his direction. His giggling was infectious yet soothing. Peli appeared from the workspace, and padded over to you, "He sure looks happy." Turning to her, a wide smile on your face, "I'd like to hope he is, and not just because of the bubbles." Your heart sank a little as you reminded yourself that Mando had still not returned. "Oh, he is. He loves you like a mother," she grinned, "it doesn't take a genius to work that out. You hungry?" "Starving." Peli, without hesitation, picked up Grogu and you both walked inside.

For the most part, there was just general chit-chat between you and Peli, about her work, Grogu's fascination with bubbles and food, but then when you were seated, things got a little too much when you started playing with what was in your bowl. "(Y/N), what's wrong?" Peli's voice was enamoured with concern. Sighing, you put your cutlery down, "I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel like he's gone and he's not coming back. Everything just doesn't make sense anymore. He's not here to see Grogu play with his bubbles or go on a short adventure for a change of scenery, hell, he hasn't let me in. God why the hell did I let myself fall in love with him?" The words just came tumbling out, and you didn't have time to think about what you were saying. It's only when you glanced over at Peli with tear-soddened eyes that you realised maybe you sounded like a desperate love sick puppy, but her gaze jumped to you and to the doorway behind you repeatedly. "Is that how you feel cyar'ika?" The familiar modulated baritone came from behind you. By now, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole - not because you were embarrassed about your confession but the fact you were crying. Crying with a confession like that was dangerously embarrassing regardless of the situation. Gulping and quickly wiping tears that rolled down your now flushed cheeks, you began to stand. "I'll leave you two alone," Peli croaked, sweeping Grogu from his chair and leaving for the other room. You stood there, frozen to the spot, staring at Mando. Were you hurt that he showed up out of the blue now after so long? Yes. Were you relieved in knowing that he was still alive and standing in front of you? Yes. "Let's talk in my room," you murmured, trying to keep yourself composed. You led Mando through to the room you'd set up as your sleeping quarters whilst staying with Peli.

Mando closed the door gently behind him. You'd gone over to where the balcony was by the time he padded over to the bed. You began trembling, letting out a heartfelt sigh as you gazed into the sunset on the Tatooine landscape. You needed to speak to Mando. What you would say to him would be a different story. You clenched your eyes shut, thinking carefully about what you were going to say, when you felt calloused hands snake around your midriff. "I'm so sorry cyar'ika." The voice sounded different, almost stripped back. The feeling of raspy facial hair grazed across your exposed neck. Opening your eyes, you came to the realisation that he'd removed his helmet. Struggling, you turned around to face him. Your heart began to race profoundly, your stomach felt like butterflies. He had removed his helmet and you were in awe of the man standing in front of you, "Mando? Why have-" He cut you off, "My name is Din. Din Djarin. And I need you to know that I'm sorry for being away from you all this time, and for keeping my walls up. And yes, I've just gone against my creed by removing my helmet but I'd risk it all for you in a heartbeat." You stayed completely silent, unsure of where you were even going to go with the conversation. "Being away from you was a test, and a hunt, but primarily a test. For me. For you. For us. And now I know that I cannot live a life without you anymore. Not without you or Grogu. Being without you has made me realise that nothing makes sense. And as for being with you, well, there's nothing I want more. I love you cyar'ika." You looked a mess right now, and you knew it and he looked every inch perfect. His dishevelled dark hair, golden glowing skin, his mismatched facial hair. Your heart skipped a beat. "You know, I really want to scream at you because you have made me so angry, but I also want to scream right now because you are the most frustratingly beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on," you said, trying to control your emotions, "but Mando- sorry, Din, I love you too. With all my heart. You and Grogu." He was stood there, his arms open in an invitational gesture. Without hesitation, you fell into his arms. "You are so beautiful," he whispered as he pressed his lips to your hair, "and I also know you found the pendant." "Wha-how do you know?" trying to sound surprised. "It's not in his crib," you heard him whisper, sensing he was smirking, "it's pretty special because that's meant for the three of us. There's the main outline, which is mine, the middle outline, which is yours and the centrepiece of all, well, that is Grogu's. We're a family now, and nothing will take that away." You looked up into his deep chocolate brown eyes, which had a mischievous sparkle in them, "Thank you for everything, including taking your helmet off." As you flashed him a wink, his lips curled into a smirk, and then without a warning, they came crashing down like a mass tidal wave onto yours. This was it. This was the way your life had panned, and it was written in the stars.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction

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alvacchi · 4 years

Text

Phantom Thief Hanako-kun AU Story: Chapter 7- Caring For You

What's this? Yes you've read right. A new chapter's here! Time to go back to the present!

Enjoy!

---

-Let's recap the recent events of chapter 5!

-Hanako and Yashiro were able to spend time to get to know each other more

-Yashiro was busy grocery shopping for donut ingredients until she ran into Tsukasa

-Visiting the very place of the mysterious heist with him, Yashiro discovered a dark secret of Hanako's

-Even more was strikingly revealed with Hanako present

-And now Hanako didn't come by Yashiro's place

-What's going to happen next?!

-It's been a couple days since that time with Tsukasa

-And still no sign of Hanako

-Yashiro sighed as she got ready in her pajamas

-Wasn't it also like this right after the murder?

-Now she kept expecting something at the window

-It's actually been raining heavily lately

-What a great way to match the mood

-Yashiro thought about the donuts that she baked on that same night

-They weren't that fresh anymore after some time

-She was still keeping them in her mini fridge for some reason

-She's going to have to throw them away eventually

-Taking out some seeds for her hamster Black Canyon, she pondered worriedly about Hanako

-Yashiro: "I really hope Hanako-kun is okay, Black Canyon"

-After finishing up her remaining chores, she turned in for the night

-The next rainy day

-Yashiro went to Tsuchigomori's detective agency as usual

-Only today there was quite a ruckus in the office

-The moment Yashiro opened the door

-She immediately knew who was visiting from the loud voice

-"I'M PUTTING MY PRIDE ON THE LINE HERE, EMO SPIDER!"

-Tsuchigomori: "Woman! That's not how you ask!"

-Yashiro: [sweatdrops] "Uhhh good morning, Tsuchigomori-sensei and Police Chief Yako-san?"

-Tsuchigomori: [pointing to Yako with his thumb] "No need to call this fox that anymore. She got demoted after going way out of line."

-Yako: "Argh we don't have to talk about that. That's beside the point! I need your help! None of the other detectives are willing!"

-Tsuchigomori: "Maybe because you're terrifying them and using impolite speech."

-Yako: "Ergh. I'm not that bad, right Yashiro-san?"

-Yashiro: "Uhhh."

-Why drag her into this?

-Tsuchigomori: "By the way, how's the case with Detective Three's murder going?" ((Yako: "You're ignoring me now?!"))

-Oh. That's right.

-Yashiro still hadn't reported to Tsuchigomori about her progress.

-But what the heck was she supposed to say??

-Oh she found another likely suspect who confessed to the murder but he got away and he and Hanako seem to know each other?

-Saying that would complicate matters and get her a possible scolding from Tsuchigomori

-She wished she could hurry up and become a professional already

-Yashiro: "...I haven't really found anything on the case. Nothing worth noting anyways."

-Yashiro didn't want to cause more suffering to Hanako

-She didn't understand his situation but investigating further may harm their relationship, if that wasn't done already

-Tsuchigomori: "I see. Well, for your information, because there's not much to go off of and considering the possibility of framing, the security at the heists would go back to normal. For now, some of the task forces are more needed elsewhere."

-Yashiro felt a bit of relief

-Well that's good, right?

-Yako, who was fussing in the corner during their conversation, went marching over to Yashiro and grabbed her by the shoulders

-Yako: "Yashiro-san, I have no choice but to rely on you!"

-Yashiro: "Huh?! Wha-?"

-Tsuchigomori pinched his nose in annoyance

-Tsuchigomori: "Ugh. Please do not bother my apprentice, Yako-san."

-Yako: "But! Misaki has gone missing and something could have happened to him!"

-Missing? A missing person case?

-Yashiro was intrigued

-Perhaps focusing on another different case would be best for her right now

-Yashiro: "Tsuchigomori-sensei, I would like to take on Yako-san's case! She's still an important client!"

-Tsuchigomori sighed. No point in refuting now he guessed.

-Tsuchigomori: "Alright, fine. You can go ahead."

-Yashiro beamed and thanked him

-And so she started her interrogation with Yako

-Asking questions such as when and where Yako last saw Misaki, what he looked like, what was his occupation, etc.

-Yashiro managed to get a few leads so she planned to investigate the area the next day

-She took on some documents from the office so she could study them up in her apartment

-After some time trying to work through the files, she decided to turn in early so she could get up really early to start investigating

-As she was sleeping, she failed to notice a black Mokke at her window

-The following day, Yashiro got ready to leave her apartment, now on her way over to where Misaki used to be

-She didn't have to go to Tsuchigomori's agency during her investigation

-It was the weekend anyways

-She searched and asked people around the area

-It seemed that Misaki did indeed disappear and not that long ago either

-He wasn't at his job like he was supposed to be nor did anyone know where he could have gone

-Yashiro was stuck

-There weren't that many clues she could look into

-Was this supposed to be helping her mood?

-It's like all the cases she had lately have been hard to resolve

-How frustrating

-Some time passed and it was already late so Yashiro had to go back to her apartment

-She took a long bath to relax and clear her mind

-Then before she knew it, Yashiro was thinking about Hanako again

-Why couldn't she get her mind off of him?!

-It wasn't like Hanako was the reason she became a detective! He's not even her type! She's got other cases too!

-After her bath, she should just go to sleep

-No point in staying up if her thoughts were going to mess with her

-She dried her hair and got into her pajamas

-and then flopped down onto her bed

-.....

-.....Her bed was strangely bulky

-She took off the blanket

-and behold

-Hanako was lying there with his eyes closed

-Yashiro: "HANAKO-KUN?!"

-What the?! When did he get there?!

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun, why are you in my bed?! Are you listening?!"

-Yashiro touched him and she realized his skin felt hot

-She felt his forehead and it was burning

-He was also sweating

-Yep, Hanako's got a fever and he's unconscious

-The bedsheets were also getting soaked

-Oh geez, was he in the rain earlier?!

-He didn't stand in the rain and got sick like that, did he?!

-Yashiro had to take a deep breath to calm down

-Looks like she had an unexpected sick patient on her

-Alright, first things first

-His clothes

-She's got to remove them since they're wet and wouldn't help

-She tried to get him to wake up for this but it wasn't working

-Yashiro gulped

-Okay, this wasn't the first time she took clothes off Hanako

-She had to do that to patch him up when he was bleeding before

-So it did feel like a deja vu moment

-But it was just his shirt she removed that time since that's where the bleeding was

-She didn't even remove his hat or any other as a gesture to keep his identity a secret

-When he was gone the next day, he took his shirt she cleaned with him

-Now he was completely soaked all over

-She started feeling nervous

-It would be normal to feel that way, right?

-Yashiro: 'Sorry Hanako-kun, but I got to do this!'

-She got it done, swapping his clothes with dry ones that would fit him

-Her heart thumping loudly in the process

-It was for his sake! Just trying to help him get better!

-Gosh, why was she feeling this nervous?

-She also had to set him aside for a bit to change the bedsheets

-Since she's done that, she got a better look at his face without his hat

-Yashiro: 'He looks like an innocent boy just sleeping...'

-Next, she's going to have to somehow get him to eat a bit and drink medicine

-She opened her mini fridge

-.....the bowl of donuts was empty

-What?! Did he eat her donuts earlier when she wasn't looking?? And they were about to go bad! Hopefully, he doesn't get a stomach ache from them

-Well, no matter

-She just had to grab medicine now

-Taking the medicine from a cabinet, she went back to Hanako

-To see him awake

-Oh thank goodness she didn't really know how she was going to give it to him

-Though now she's annoyed and feeling embarrassed that she went through the trouble earlier with his clothes

-Why couldn't he have gotten up sooner?!

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun?"

-He turned to her with a dazed look on his face

-Yashiro sat down next to him and she put the medicine in his hand

-Yashiro: "Here. You need to take this."

-Hanako just took it and gulped it down with no hesitation

-Yashiro, relieved, told him to get some rest and sleep there for the night

-Before she was able to leave, he suddenly grabbed her

-Hanako: "Wait....don't go...!"

-He sounded pretty desperate

-Hanako: "You...didn't come to the heist tonight...."

-There was a heist?! She didn't even realize at all

-Besides, she didn't even know if he wanted to see her

-He was avoiding her these past couple days

-and now he's acting like he wanted her to see him??

-A cat. He reminded Yashiro of a cat.

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun, you need to rest--"

-Hanako: "Are you afraid of me?"

-Yashiro's eyes widened at his question

-Hanako's hand

-It was trembling against hers

-He was afraid of how she would respond

-Yashiro: "No...If I was, I don't think I would have jumped out to shield you back then."

-Hanako: "Then, promise me"

-Hanako put up his other hand to make a pinky promise gesture

-Hanako: "Promise me you'll stay by my side."

-Yashiro formed her pinky gesture after a moment of registering what he said

-She then wrapped her pinky around his

-Yashiro: "I promise"

-Suddenly, Hanako pulled her towards him and they both collapsed onto the bed

-Yashiro: "Hanako-kun?!"

-Hanako: "Stay with me. I feel cold."

-Yashiro flustered

-She was locked in place between Hanako's arms so she couldn't get out

-She was probably going to get sick from close contact

-Hanako cuddled her closer, taking in her hair scent

-Hanako: "You smell good..."

-She just took a bath earlier

-Hanako was being pretty touchy

-Whether he was dilerious from his fever or this was his usual flirting, Yashiro wasn't quite sure anymore

-Yashiro leaned against him in defeat

-Yashiro: "...I'm sorry about trying to find out more, even though I knew you didn't want to talk about it...I'll try my best to wait until you tell me yourself."

-Hanako: "Mhmm...."

-It seemed like he was drifting off to sleep

-Yashiro was also drifting off

-And they both fell asleep

....

...

-In the middle of the night, Hanako started whimpering

-Yashiro woke up to it, wondering what's wrong

-Hanako: "I'm sorry Tsukasa...."

-He shed a tear while saying that

-Tsukasa.

-That boy was still a mystery Yashiro had yet to figure out

-Yashiro decided to intertwine her fingers with Hanako's in hopes it would help

-and Hanako, who felt the gesture, seemed to have successfully calmed down and was back to peacefully sleeping

---

-Mitsuba was in his own apartment that night

-He would usually be up writing his journals on the latest scoop

-But tonight, he was looking at the same photos that he looked at after the moon heist

-When Kou was talking with him after the heist about how Hanako seemed to have gotten framed for Detective Three's murder, it came to his mind

-Not that he didn't notice before, he just never bothered questioning it

-And the photos that he just only recently decided to get developed served as more proof

-There was something odd with the photos of Hanako

-"Miiiitsuuba~"

-Mitsuba quickly shoved the photos away on impulse

-He turned around to see the visitor, still feeling a bit nervous

-Tsukasa. Somehow managing to sneak into his apartment

-Tsukasa: "You know the drill, right?"

-Mitsuba: "Yeah, yeah, I got you"

-Mitsuba had to pass Tsukasa the photos that he took of Hanako during the latest heist and any before

-Tsukasa: "YAY!"

-Mitsuba: "You're welcome I guess."

-Last time Mitsuba didn't go through with what Tsukasa wanted, Tsukasa thought it would have been fun to make him bungee jump out his apartment window

-That was a nightmare

-Tsukasa: "Hey Mitsuba."

-Mitsuba: "Hm?"

-Tsukasa: "You're not thinking of anything, are you?"

-Mitsuba's heart sped up

-No no Tsukasa can't read his mind

-Mitsuba: "I-I'm not sure what you're talking about"

-Dang he stuttered

-Tsukasa seemed to have let him be though and went off on his way

-Mitsuba sighed in relief

-There was a risky gamble he planned to take

---

-Kou phone rang but he was currently asleep

-Mitsuba: Missed Calls [2]

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #hananene #tbhk #jshk #hanako kun #yashiro nene #mitsuba sousuke #yugi tsukasa #jshk scenario #jshk au #fanfic

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