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writingmyanxietyaway · 3 years

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Confessions | El Profesor

Requested by anon: can i request a lcdp imagine where the reader likes the professor and she confesses nights before the heist but he wants to stay true to his relationship rule so she is heartbroken so she doesn’t want to talk to him and when the heist comes she doesn’t eat and sleep and he gets really worried about her so he expresses his true feelings to her

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: mention of a gun, not eating/drinking, angst

Note: takes place in the first season! Hope you like it, enjoy! xx

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You were in a difficult position. On one hand you wanted to wait until everything was over. On the other hand you were unsure if you would make it out alive. You knew about his rule not to engage any relationships of any kind and he took it very seriously, but the thing was you absolutely him to death and you were willing to take that risk. So here you were, about to confess your feelings for him.

You waited until everyone had left the classroom and took a deep breath. You had clammy hands and you were lightly trembling.

‘I- uhm.. Can I talk to you for a minute?’ you asked the Professor. He turned around, away from his chalkboard with raised eyebrows. His glasses had slipped down his nose a little, so he pushed them up. You found it adorable. Just like how he scrunched his nose whenever you talked to him.

‘Sure. Did I talk too fast or was I not clear about something?’ he stuttered. He instantly started doubting himself if he had indeed missed anything he was supposed to explain.

‘No, no. You were great. I just, uhm.. I kind of have something to tell you..’ you trailed off, ‘something personal.’

‘Bali, you know how I feel about sharing personal information. I specifically told you,’ he stated. Suddenly you felt incredible stupid. How did you think this was going to work when he clearly said he didn’t want any personal information shared?

‘I know.. I just want you to know something in case things go south. It doesn’t have to get in the way of your whole plan. If you don’t feel the same, we can just pretend it never happened.’ You waved your hand around, not really knowing what to do with your hands. ‘I just wanted you to know that I really like you. More than a friend or teacher, or whatever you are to me. I think you’re really handsome and nice. So, yeah..’ you spoke.

You couldn’t read his face. You saw somewhat of shock flash across his face, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

‘Well..? Am I just embarrassing myself or do you maybe feel the same? It doesn’t have to be a long answer. Just a yes or no is fine,’ you rambled.

He looked at you, fumbled with his glasses and turned back to the chalkboard.

‘I’d rather had you hadn’t shared this. This makes it all a lot more complicated,’ he sighed and grabbed a piece of chalk. ‘Can I still trust you to complete your tasks?’

You frowned, feeling not only rejected but also very used at the same time.

‘I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just asking if you might feel the same.. You don’t have to be so rude,’ your voice cracked. Sergio mentally slapped himself in the face for hurting you, but he had to.

‘You knew the rules. I told you not to share anything personal. Relationships make this all a lot more difficult. I cannot allow this to fail. I made those rules for a reason,’ he said. It was like a slap in the face. He didn’t even have the respect to tell you a) if he did or did not feel the same, but also b) to look you in the eye.

‘Yeah, you mentioned that, twice, but the least I deserve is an answer to my face. I guess that answers my question. Just forget I said anything.’

Obviously, that was impossible for the both of you. The next few days were awkward and very uncomfortable. You tried listening to everything The Professor was saying, but you couldn’t look at him. You did notice him staring at you once every while, making Berlin tease you and Denver tease him. You found it all very embarrassing and couldn’t wait until you were inside the bank to escape his face.

Everything went according to plan. You got in, locked everyone out and had now been inside for almost 2 days. You loved every part of it. The tension with Berlin got out of hand for a while, but soon after the storm blew over and you were back in the game.

‘Are you okay? You haven’t eaten since yesterday..’ Nairobi asked you, genuine concern written over her face. It was true. You weren’t hungry or thirsty so you hadn’t eaten. Usually you had a great appetite, but you couldn’t bring yourself to eat. Everyone noticed, though. Including Sergio. He noticed you were always wandering around the halls, not even sleeping. He was incredibly worried and felt like an idiot for behaving the way he did. He sat behind his computers, fidgeting with his hands, wanting to do something.

‘Yeah, fine. Just got a lot on my mind, is all,’ you nodded at her. She didn’t look convinced in the slightest, so she grabbed a sandwich and handed it to you.

‘I want this eaten in an hour. If you’ve not eaten it I will push it down your throat,’ she sternly told you. You chuckled.

‘Yes, mother.’

As soon as she left, you threw it back in the fridge. When you heard yelling in the hallway, you grabbed your weapon and braced yourself for what you would find. Berlin was obviously yelling loudly again, threatening to shoot Arturo. Same shit different day.

It was now two days later and you had eaten a little bit more than one sandwich since Nairobi basically forced you to eat. You looked a lot more tired, your energy level had dropped to -4 and you were phisically and mentally exhausted. You looked like shit, to say it lightly. Sergio had grown more and more worried, telling the others to keep an even closer eye on you.

‘Drop the gun,’ you told Berlin, who had his gun pointed at Denver. He only smirked. ‘Denver, you too. I’m not fucking around. We need each other. We can’t just keep shooting at one another just because we’re stressed. Think for once, damn it.’ You raised your voice gradually as you spoke.

Berlin raised his eyebrows at you. His eyes flickered from your gun to Denver, who was about to burst with anger. As you held out your gun, the strength in your arms weakened. You tried your best holding up the gun, but when you focussed on your arms, your vision got blurry. When you tried focussing your vision again, your arms started trembling.

‘Berlin, please,’ you sighed. Your mouth got incredibly dry all of a sudden and your speech turned more into slurs. You felt yourself getting weaker by the second and this child’s play cost too much of the little energy you had left. Denver quickly lowered his gun when he saw you sway back and forth.

‘Bali? Bali!’ You saw him rushing to you, just like Berlin before your vision turned completely black and you fell to the floor.

‘We told her to eat! It’s not our damn fault. She’s too stubborn to listen.’

Your hearing slowly came back before you could open your eyes. You felt someone hold your hand while someone else was on the phone.

‘No, of course not... Yes, we did that already. Shouldn’t be too long before she wakes up,’ the voice came closer, ‘I think she’s waking up, hold on.. Bali, honey, can you hear me?’

You nodded lightly before slowly opening your eyes. Moskú held the phone while Rio held your hand. You were in the office, laying on one of the couches. You had an IV in your arm and a bag of liquid hung next to the window. You waved to the camera in the corner, letting The Professor know you were in fact alive.

‘He wants to talk to you.. We’ll give you some privacy while you two talk. When you’re done, just give us a call,’ he smiled and handed you the phone.

‘Thank you, guys. For everything,’ you tried smiling, but you were still too weak. They gave you a kiss on the head and left to the hallway.

‘Starving yourself? Really?’ Was the first thing you heard when you held the phone to your ear. You groaned loudly.

‘No, I just wasn’t hungry. Adrenaline, probably,’ you muttered. ‘Why do you care anyway? It’s not like I’m any good use compared to the others.’

‘Are you serious? You and Berlin are the leaders of this entire plan, Bali. How could you be so stupid?! We need you and we need you alive. Too many people have died already, I can’t loose you too,’ he stuttered. You heard his jagged breath.

‘Are you done?’ you asked, not wanting to deal with his whining anymore.

‘I’m sorry..’ he sighed, ‘You scared me. I thought I was going to loose you, Y/N.’

Your breathing stopped for a second and you sat up. He never called anyone by their actual names. You didn’t even know he knew yours.

‘Why did you call me that?’ you asked, heart beating loudly in your chest. ‘You said no personal details or any information.’

‘I know.. I just had to know your name. God, I want to know everything about you. Your favourite breakfast, your favourite country, what your goals in life are.. I want to know it all. And that scares me. I’ve never had this urge to get to know someone as much as you. You’re perfect in every way and I almost lost you,’ he confessed. Your felt your heart flutter and you turned your head to look into the camera.

‘What are you saying?’ you asked him, hoping to finally hear want you’ve wanted to hear for the past two weeks.

‘I.. I like you. A lot. And I was too scared to tell you because I’ve never felt anything like this before for anyone. I was so rude to you and you don’t deserve that. Please forgive me?’ he asked hopefully. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips.

‘Waffles with strawberries, kiwi’s and mango,’ you answered.

‘What?’ he asked, completely confused by your answer.

‘My favourite breakfast,’ you winked into the camera. You heard him let out a laugh on the other end of the line, making you smile as well.

‘So, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?’ you whispered.

‘Sergio. Sergio Marquina.’

‘Nice to meet you Sergio. Now, get me out of here. I want to go to the beach.’

#la casa de papel #lcdp #lcdp imagine #el professor x reader #el professor imagine #alvaro morte #lcdp x reader

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ruewrites · 3 years

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Wait asks being open means requests are open right??? If yes OH MY GOD IVE BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS DAY SINCE AGES

Could you pls pls pls pls do a dialuci fic except it's a royal au? Like dia and Luci are set to get married but Luci didn't want to until he saw Dia?? I know this isn't your primary ship but it would mean the WORLD to me (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

Meeting His Prince

AO3

Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 2008

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi Anon! First of all, thank you. When I finished up WBT, I was thinking about writing a royalty au, and this request acutally made me plot it out. I guess this will be a psuedo prequel to it? But I want Dialuci to be a ship in it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

Lucifer had his clothing pressed and his crown polished. A crowned prince had to make a good impression being the shining jewel of the growing empire of Arcadia. Yet it wasn’t his clothing that worried his father. It was Lucifer’s expression.

To say he was happy was far from correct. Lucifer never gave much thought to marriage. Honestly, he’d be happy ruling Arcadia without anyone by his side. He’d spent much of his time caring for his siblings and learning how to rule over the kingdom, so an heir wasn’t an idea he was fond of. It was something he knew had been expected of him as well. Producing a strong line of future kings and queens to lead Arcadia had been in the stars for him according to his father.

Perhaps he had read the stars wrong.

The memory of Father bursting through the palace doors uttering curses under his breath. Apparently the prince had been rather persistent with his demands. His father wanted to make an alliance with this kingdom horribly so. Apparently the prince was rather effective in the way he ruled and was a skilled strategist. He would be a powerful addition to Arcadia, but he was stubborn once he’d made his decision. Strategist indeed if he could get the King of Arcadia to give into his demands. The anger in the king’s eyes when he told Lucifer that he had been chosen burned Lucifer’s very soul.

Lucifer knew where this anger was coming from, not that he cared all that much. He’d never really given too much thought to what his paternal figure wanted from him. Why start now?

His siblings had all had varying reactions: sighing about the ‘romance’ of the situation, poking fun at him, and in some cases offering sympathy. He just wanted to stay neutral about it. The end goal for him was to be a worthy future king of Arcadia, this was just a stepping stone he had to take to get there. Other issues surrounding this engagement could be figured out with time. He had time. He just needed to stay level headed.

He hadn’t noticed the clock ticking down to his wedding day, he hadn’t even realized that he’d never met his fiance despite the flood of letters that were sent his way once a month. It seemed odd. Lucifer wasn’t really sure how to react to the attention and aggressive affection. The entire situation felt more like a relationship with a paramour rather than an arranged marriage for the good of their kingdoms. For now, it was best to push it to the back of his mind and deal with it when the time came. There wasn’t any point in fighting anything lest he cause conflict that would certainly affect more people than just him.

Ah the life of being a royal.

Lovely wasn’t it?

The day of the foreign prince’s arrival, Lucifer spent hours pacing around the palace overlooking every tiny detail. Of course he could change his mind at any moment and Lucifer couldn’t have that happen. This was for the good of Arcadia. He glanced over the arrangement of food on the table one last time before letting out a sigh.

Composure was key.

He was the pride of Arcadia.

Nothing could break him.

Nothing could throw him off guard.

Nothing-

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer didn’t even have time to process the situation. Strong arms wrapped around him, suffocating him in a tight embrace. He struggled, gasping for air and attempting to escape from the steel grip capturing him. When he did manage some distance, his hair was a mess and his clothes were disheveled.

Golden eyes met his own, sparkling like gold coins reflecting the summer sun.

“You’re even more beautiful in person,” the other prince’s voice came out as a whisper, as firm hands gently cupped his face, “You’re as radiant as an angel-”

He was a puppy. A giant puppy.

“Oh how lucky I am to be married to such a gorgeous man.”

“We’re not married yet,“ Lucifer hoped he didn’t sputter as he pulled away. This was hardly the professional meeting he’d been expecting. This was their first time meeting before their wedlock, and Lucifer had been thrown off balance.

He could do professional.

He couldn’t do whatever… whatever this was.

“Well, we’ll be married soon.”

“Your Highness-”

“Diavolo.”

Lucifer stopped in his tracks. All he could do was stare at those big shiny eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Please call me by my name. I’d like to hear how perfect it sounds on your tongue,” Diavolo repeated.

Heat rose into Lucifer’s face and he hoped it didn’t show. Quickly, he turned away and started walking towards one end of the table. “In any case, you’ve had a long trip. Why don’t-”

No sooner had Lucifer sat than Diavolo swooped in to scoot a chair closer to him. This man really didn’t have any sense of personal space did he? This was unfamiliar territory. Lucifer expected him to sit on the opposite end, allowing him to keep some distance between them. That’s how people were to stay. At a nice, respectable distance to be observed and to exchange pleasantries, but no closer. Diavolo was a stranger, yet he refused to act like one.

“I want to know everything about you,” Diavolo sounded as if he was marvelling at a being from another word. It was an unsettling feeling, “You’re favorite music, what you like to do in your free time, everything about you.”

Lucifer scooted away ever so slightly. Diavolo followed.

“Why would you care about any of that?”

This was business.

“Because we’re getting married.”

That didn’t mean he had to know anything about Lucifer.

But Diavolo had a nice laugh. It was booming and made Lucifer’s lips twitch upward ever so slightly. Everything about him was warm. Warmth Lucifer had never known before.

He tried to touch his face once more, Lucifer turned away. It was instinct. Lucifer wasn’t accustomed to being touched.

“You act like no one’s ever acted like this with you before!”

“That’s because no one has,” his eye glanced toward Diavolo, “My family isn’t exactly touchy.”

More specifically his father. He didn’t like touchiness, he thought it would make them weak. Therefore, physical affection wasn’t common when their father was around, especially not with Lucifer. He was their crown prince. He needed to be strong and rule without anything in his way.

Diavolo’s demeanor changed, his shoulders fell, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not anything worth pitying. It happened and there’s nothing that can be done to change it,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, “It’s what he thought best for the future of Arcadia.”

You threw a wrench in his plans.

And for that, well, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied. After pushing him and his siblings to follow certain path all of their lives, it was nice to see something not go as planned for a change. Lucifer wouldn’t be having heirs, and that was fine by him. Any interruption counted as a victory for him, no matter how small.

“I am sorry,” Diavol’s voice was more even and calmer than it had been before, “For how I have been behaving though. It must have been startling to you. Please forgive me.”

Lucifer turned his head back towards him and quirked his eyebrow.

“My own father was very affectionate when I was young, I suppose I just miss it, and I’d like to share that with you, if you’ll allow me.”

Lucifer thought for a moment, allowing silence to permeate in the room. If asked, he’d say he did it to make Diavolo sweat, but in reality he was genuinely thinking it over. “I suppose, perhaps with time.”

The way he beamed made Lucifer’s heart skip a beat, “Then let’s get to dinner and start to know each other a little better, shall we?”

***

Enjoying the evening had not been on Lucifer’s list of things to do, but he wouldn’t complain.

“You like dogs? I could get you a dog as a wedding present.”

Lucifer laughed, “Father wouldn’t allow it. He’s not fond of animals.”

“Well he can’t stop me from getting a present that you would like. “

This man defying his father? Heavens help them. Perhaps Lucifer liked him a little more than he thought. It wasn’t something he was used to. He’d never had a relationship like this before. This was the first time he felt like he’d had a genuine conversation with someone outside of his family. For once, Lucifer felt a little relaxed.

Diavolo was genuinely interested in what Lucifer liked. He wrote down how Lucifer took his tea, wanted to listen to all of his favorite songs with him, and what he liked to do in his free time. He wanted to play chess with him and spend time with him in any way he could.

It made Lucifer’s feel warm and his chest lurch. He loved the smile that found its way onto his face and how Diavolo’s voice surrounded him. Perhaps he’d found a new favorite song.

He felt like he’d known Diavolo for ages.

He made it easier for Lucifer to breathe.

“Diavolo-”

Diavolo froze. His eyes went wide again, “You said my name.”

Lucifer didn’t get a chance to move before he was being lifted off the ground and spun in the air. Diavolo’s booming laugh surrounded them.

“Oh you said my name! And it was perfect! More than perfect!” he lowered Lucifer only to bring him into a kiss. Now it was Lucifer’s turn to freeze. His face quickly turned red as his eyes flew open. He stiffened, and tried to bring himself back. He’d never been kissed before. A crown prince had to be careful when it came to his image, and he’d had more important things to focus on than starting romances that would lead to nowhere. He’d always known he’d be married off to someone else, so he didn’t really see a point in seeking out others for romance.

Lucifer never thought about what it would be like to be kissed.

He wasn’t exactly sure about what to think now.

When Diavolo pulled away the terror seemed to set it. “Oh I’m sorry! I- I went too far-”

As he mumbled, Lucifer felt himself come back. It was when he realized how nervous the other prince was. He was energetic and was the opposite of Lucifer himself. Instead of going silent like Lucifer did, Diavolo seemed to ramble even more. With a chuckle and the shake of his head, Lucifer put his finger tips under Diavolo’s chin and brought his focus back to him.

Lucifer wasn’t one to be won over so easily, but there was something about this man that made him think their union wouldn’t be a bad one. Perhaps he could make his life a little more interesting.

If he could force his father into doing something that he didn’t want to do, like agreeing to the condition of Diavolo getting to marry his crown prince, Lucifer figured he would like him.

“I will have to kiss my husband eventually, you’re an awfully excitable man Diavolo. I think I quite enjoy that about you,” he smiled, before placing a gentler kiss onto his lips.

If Diavolo wanted to play the role of adoring husband Lucifer wouldn’t stop him. Maybe marriage wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. Perhaps he could rule Arcadia with another person effectively after all.

When they pulled away, Lucifer caressed his face, “I think I could see myself participating in acts of affection in private.”

He and Diavolo walked a little closer on the rest of their stroll, and he found himself leaning into his shoulder every now and again.

Perhaps he could get used to this.

Perhaps he would lead Arcadia into a new age, and be an even better ruler with Diavolo at his side.

It would be a future to look forward to.

#ruewrites #anon #ask #anon ask #royalty!au #arranged marriage!au #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #dialuci #diavolo x lucifer

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Long Nights - part 7

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7: Wicked game

(see chapter 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: it’s time to come back to life, and sometimes it involves Neil dragging you to a social event

warnings: 18+, language, alcohol mention (beer is considered alcohol, right?)

author’s note: 3k words. It’s not exactly what I had in mind for that chapter, but they have a mind of their own, as always.

Almost there.

The song for this part is Stone Sour - Wicked Game (acoustic, live)

Enjoy and let me know what you think, please? All feedback is greatly appreciated.

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Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @i-wanna-b-yours @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

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It didn’t matter how many times you saw him do that, the effect the sight had on you was pretty much always the same. Filling your mind with thoughts that were quite counterproductive, one could say.

The veiny patterns covering hands and forearms. The long fingers running through the buttons. The tilted chin, extending the neck, drawing attention to that impossible jawline. The slight pout. The brows drawn together in concentration--

You smacked your tongue and shook your head

“Y’know what, those shirts of yours are so rude, but the way you wear them, the rolled-up sleeves?”

Neil looked at you through the reflection in the mirror, puzzled. “What about them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely disrespectful,” you sighed heavily and leaned against the door frame.

Playful lights danced in the blue eyes. “Oh yeah?” he teased, giving himself a final glance-over before turning to you. “And what you’re gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” - you shrugged, crossing your arms - “because you insist on dragging me to a social event.”

The faint resentment ringing in your last words didn’t get lost on Neil.

“So boring of me,” he said as he closed the gap between you, trying to keep a straight face. He put his hands on your waist and smirked. “But maybe after that we can come back here and continue the conversation.”

As you fixed his collar, a shade of smile hid in the corner of your mouth.

“Really wanna listen to me listing all the things that drive me mad about you, huh?” you asked smugly, gliding your fingertips along the delicate stripes of the greyish beige shirt.

Neil’s thumbs brushed over your hip bones as he hummed, “I have a feeling it might lead to a rather pleasant conclusion.”

When you let out an amused scoff, his lips captured the snarky comment that was bound to follow. He pulled you closer and lifted you up, and the next second you were sitting on the edge of a vanity cabinet, breathless from the kiss, tugging at the striped shirt.

A buzz right next to you.

You jumped, startled, and glared at the phone. “Is it too late to tell Matthias the Uber driver that we’re not going anywhere?” you asked without too much hope as you nuzzled your face to Neil’s neck, breathing in his scent, unwilling to let this moment end too quickly.

Neil chuckled and stroked your arms. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun.”

You still didn’t know where he was taking you - he’d assured you that it would be casual, and that was basically all you cared about. He knew you enough, and you trusted his judgement, after all.

“It better be,” you pouted, pulling back, but as soon as you met the bright blue eyes your heart sang in your chest. After spending all that time in the darkness, not sure if you’d ever see his face again, you caught yourself taking an extra second every now and then, just looking at him. How the light played on his features, now soft in the elaborately illuminated hotel bathroom. How his lips curled whenever he found your gaze. How utterly stunning he was.

Smiling gently, you ran your fingers through Neil’s disheveled mane, taming the blonde mess if ever so slightly.

“Let’s not keep Matthias waiting, then,” you sighed and slid off the cabinet.

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The afternoon was quite warm for late autumn. As you were arriving at your destination, you watched the sun shining through the scarce leaves left on the trees, adding vibrance to their colours. Too mesmerized to pay attention to the route, you recognized the place only when the car stopped. The training site. You turned to Neil in confusion, but he just wiggled his brows and proceeded to thank the driver and got out of the car. You followed him out and right through the gate of the now-empty paintball outdoor facility which served as a front for the agency’s base, hidden a bit further inside the forest.

“Picking up something on the way?” you asked, matching his pace as you strolled towards the training grounds.

Neil shook his head and smiled mysteriously. “Not really.”

“Alrighty then, keep your secrets,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t we a tad overdressed for a little playground fun, though?”

“A rematch?” he pondered and smirked. “Didn’t plan on that, but it’s tempting.”

Indeed. “I’m kinda out of shape, but keep those baggy trousers on and I’m game - wanna beat you fair and square again.”

Neil let out an exasperated huff. “Baggy?! They might be a bit loose but --”

You giggled at his offended expression as he got busy looking down at the target of your remark, ready to defend his fashion choice. Your laughter was enough to stop Neil in his tracks, and when he met your playful gaze, he reached out and drew you into his arms for a tight hug. After a brief moment of perplexity, you eased into his embrace, moved by the force of sudden affection.

When he pulled back, you touched his cheek. “What was that for?” you asked, searching the blue eyes, but finding nothing but joy there.

“Being cheeky.” He scrunched his nose while tapping the tip of yours. “And brilliant,” he added, and for a second you were sure there was something else he wanted to say; instead, he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “And maybe stalling a minute longer before I’d have to share you with all these people.”

You gaped at him, about to ask what people, but Neil already grabbed your hand and led you around the corner of the building - and you heard them even before you spotted them.

“Oi, there they are!”

“Finally!”

“We’ve just considered sending a rescue party in case you got lost in the woods!”

The unexpected eruption of cheers and greetings made your fight-or-flight reflexes kick in, but as you instinctively took a step back, Neil squeezed your fingers reassuringly.

A split-second exchange of looks.

All right?

When he saw your tiny nod, he let go of your hand, focusing on the team gathered at the makeshift chillout zone. “Not everyone has your poor sense of directions, Seb,” retorted Neil, flashing his teeth in a grin.

The young man’s protests got drowned in laughter as you approached the group together.

"Luckily not the case with our rogue here,” said Ives, elbowing his way in between other people. He shot you both a disapproving look, toned down by a smile dangling in the corner of his mouth. "Really, roofs? Didn't know you had it in you, mate."

"Me neither,” admitted Neil, going in for a clasp of hands and a brief hug. “When I saw that gap, I was sure that was it. Someone convinced me otherwise."

“The secret is to avoid looking down,” you shrugged, meeting the commander's amused gaze.

"Thanks for bringing our favourite nerd back in one piece." As Ives extended his hand, there was something serious about his expression, mixed with a sense of relief, and you realised he must have been in the response team Neil had called for help.

“My pleasure.” Beaming, you shook his hand. “Thanks for providing backup.” And scraping me off the pavement.

Neil’s gasp was almost theatrical. He smirked and nudged Ives lightly. “Aw, I’m your favourite?”

“Careful, that privilege may be revoked any minute,” grunted Ives in a weak attempt at keeping up appearances, but he couldn’t fool anyone. Now that you had a chance to observe them in the after-hours situation, the bond between the two men was clear as day, and your heart warmed up at the thought.

Waving back at Mahir, you scanned the group for other familiar faces. Wheeler, a couple of people you recognized from the HQ halls, and a bit isolated from the others - the big man himself, manning the barbecue station.

Overwhelmed by the attention you got from the team, you excused yourself and walked up to The Protagonist. You couldn’t help but smile at the confident vibe he radiated with as if he spent every weekend doing nothing but this.

“So dad of you, boss.”

He flopped a sizzling piece of meat to the other side, glancing at you humorlessly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with polite concern.

“Grand, healed up nicely, thank you.” You circled your shoulder and grinned. “Not in a marathon condition, mind you, but that’s not exactly new.”

“That’s good, Neil was worried about you.”

Not sure if it was the lack of eye contact or something else in his presence, but you decided to stop ignoring the gut feeling.

“You don’t like me,” you said, tilting your head. A mere statement of the fact; you weren’t hurt, only curious. “It’s okay, you don’t have to, just been wondering why.”

TP sighed heavily. And when he finally met your gaze, the dark eyes were sad, only deepening your confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Then something cracked and a shiver ran down your spine, because suddenly, in front of you there was a man who’d seen a lot, suffered too much, and cared even more. The weight of it all slumped his shoulders, and for a short while, he seemed almost helpless. Taking a quick look at the hollering group, he sighed again. “It’s not your fault, it’s--“ he hesitated, searching for the right words. As he found them, there was no sign of the vulnerability from a moment earlier. “It’s a stressful business.” He sent you a crooked smile. “And I’m still mad about that watch.”

The lie was obvious. But the things you saw in his eyes made your chest clench painfully, and…did you really want to know?

Besides, that might have been a truce offering, and you weren’t bent on holding a grudge. Not with him, anyway.

“Hey, wasn’t it technically your idea?” you grinned, shrugging off the weird sense of dread.

A smile finally reached the dark irises. “I guess it was,” he admitted and patted you on the arm. “There’s some beer in the mini-fridge, could you --”

“On it.”

When the clank of bottles sealed your peace treaty, you caught Neil’s happy stare. You pointed at the beer in your hand in a question and he nodded, so you grabbed one more and joined him and the others.

That unfortunate mission must have been some sort of rite of passage in these guys’ eyes because out of the blue, you were no longer an outsider. The Cavalry accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was a nice feeling, though. Like you belonged. You saw some curious glances, but they came from a good place, and even the suspicious voice in your mind gave in under the cordial, jovial energy of the group.

Soon enough, you were joking with a young medic, having a balancing stand-off with Wheeler, or listening to crazy stories from some old operations, until everyone had enough booze in their systems that allowed them to direct some of the questions to you, as well.

“So is Neil a decent locksmith now?”

You puffed out your cheeks in a musing grimace, but when you spotted Neil’s raised brow, you started laughing. “I’d say even more than decent. Honestly? I don’t think there’s much more that I can teach him, he needs to polish his skills in real life now.” Mocking a teary sniff, you added, “They grow up so fast!”

Nobody would know that you did so while actively ignoring a faint sting in your heart.

You refrained from meeting the attentive blue eyes, though. Just in case.

“Oh cool, then what about a little contest?” Seb clapped his hands cheerfully. “You versus Neil, we could time you, and to make it fairer we could put a blindfold on you --” as he stopped for a breath, he realized - with some help from Wheeler’s elbow to his side - the slight faux pas.

But you barely acknowledge a curse and a mumbled apology cutting through the awkward silence, too busy exchanging amused looks and stifled giggles with your student.

“Neil, would you like to explain?” you asked, schooling your features.

He bowed his head as if he was accepting a great honor. “Gladly.” Neil took a deep breath and his eyes lit up. “See, my dear friend, had you known anything about lockpicking, you’d learnt that sometimes it’s easier to do that with, for example, your eyes closed. You need to listen to what the lock has to say because it’s all about feedback--”

You watched as Neil gave a full lecture, citing your own words from what seemed to be a lifetime ago. He did it with passion and understanding of the craft you’d never dreamed to see in someone else, and yet was so familiar when it came to him. Absentmindedly, you placed a hand over your chest, as if it was enough to stop it from bursting.

You couldn’t be more proud.

Neil finished his rant and looked at you, only to be met with all the appreciation and validation in your gaze, and he beamed even wider.

“All right, damn, we can cover Neil’s eyes then,” sighed Seb, a total resignation in his voice sparking a roar of laughter from the group.

----

As much as you enjoyed the energy of the team, your social batteries were getting drained, and you needed a moment for yourself before you could carry on.

Walking right outside of the periphery of light from the garlands, you let your gaze slide across the training equipment, now barely visible in the moonless night. The leaves crumbled under your feet as you smiled at the memories. Maybe one day you would actually complete the full run? You pulled on the sleeves of your sweater, hiding your hands from the cold evening air.

“Mind if I join you?”

You glanced over your shoulder at Neil, keeping his distance, ready to give you space. With him, it was always in the details he’d picked along the way, effortlessly weaving them into everyday life. “Not at all.”

Neil perked up and joined you in the shadows, inhaling deeply.

“Funny how the scent of the forest changes with the seasons,” he mused and you grinned, turning his way.

“That’s what I call a pick-up line,” you snickered and drew a long breath. “But you’re right, it’s too easy to forget that once you become a permanent city creature.”

He chuckled and lightly rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked softly, fixing your oversized scarf.

“Yeah.” You brushed your cheek against his fingers, longing for his touch, now that you were somewhat hidden from the prying gazes. “You?”

Neil moved closer and wound one arm around your waist, then cupped your face gently, pressed his forehead to yours, and murmured, “Now I am.”

You hummed happily and slid your hands under his open jacket, resting them at his chest, and closed your eyes. Only then realizing how tense you were, you relaxed in his embrace, savoring his closeness. A steady heartbeat under your palms. The warmth carrying undertones of Neil’s cologne. A featherlike graze of his thumb over your cheek. His nose nudging yours.

But soon enough, you had to break a stolen moment. Trying to stifle a yawn, you hid your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he cooed, biting back a giggle. “That tired?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled against him on the verge of another yawn.

“Sure you are.” He kissed your temple. “The party’s almost over anyway, judging by decreasing amount of idiotic ideas per hour. Gonna call us a cab soon, all right?”

As you nodded, Neil tightened a hug and reluctantly let you go.

“Be right back, I’ll check if there’s any coffee left,” you said, gesturing towards the tables with beverages.

As your luck would have it, there was just enough for one sip.

A sudden sneer was enough to wake you up, though.

“Hell froze over.”

Mahir walked up to the mini-fridge to grab a beer and you met his mocking stare with furrowed brows.

“Vincent must be chattering his teeth now,” you joked, unsure where the conversation was heading. “Why?”

Mahir scoffed at the remark about your old associate, but he was still studying you closely, confusing you further. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Dude, you’re killing me today,” you sighed, wiping a hand through your face. “Thanks, but what for?”

“You and Neil?”

And when you shot him a puzzled look, he waved his bottle at the place where you stood together a moment before.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, you deadpanned, “Oh.”

Bloody hell.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole love thing anymore.”

The pulse pounded in your ears, although not loud enough to tune out the sirens blazing in your head.

No.

It came out harder than you felt it. “I’m not.”

No, no, no, no, no.

Mahir grimaced doubtfully. “Uh-huh.” He looked over your shoulder at the team gathered together in the distance and raised a brow. “Does he know that?”

You couldn’t force yourself to follow his gaze. The panic drained your face of all colour, and that was enough of an answer for your friend.

“I see.” Mahir shook his head, losing the enquiring manner. His features softened as he patted your arm. “Neil’s a good guy.”

Please, no.

“They always are,” you choked out bitterly.

Not again.

“You know what I mean,” insisted Mahir, searching for your eyes.

That the history was not gonna repeat itself?

...or that he didn’t deserve any of it?

“Yeah. Maybe.” You faked a smile. “Excuse me.”

Pushing past him, you went inside the building. You needed to be alone.

Oh, the irony.

Weeks of deliberately avoiding the topic. Tricking yourself into thinking that you can keep it casual. That it didn’t matter that much. That it was nothing but a self-indulgent fling.

You couldn’t breathe.

Lesson learnt, huh?

Barging into one of the restrooms, you got to a sink. Clenching your hands on the cold ceramic, you fought nausea tearing through your body.

Pathetic.

The gasp for air turned into a sob.

...and then everything went quiet.

You raised your eyes to the mirror.

Your reflection was staring back at you with determination.

It was time.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #long nights

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infinite-xerath · 3 years

Text

Runeterra Retcons: Ruination Episode (Targon)

Targon Part I

You awaken the next morning to find everyone in somewhat dour spirits. Olaf looks to be training alone, Shen is meditating, Riven is idly inspecting her blade, Gwen and Vayne seem to be watching the waves outside, and Lucian and Senna look to be in the middle of a rather heated argument.

Senna: “How many times do I need to say it, Lucian? I’m not staying behind!”

Lucian: “You’ve seen what he can do, Senna! We’re not in any position to take him on!”

Senna: “I know that, Lucian, but that’s all the more reason why we all need to be out there.”

Lucian: “Damn it, Senna, he’s targeting you! You’ve got one of those soul fragments in you too, which means we need to keep you out of harm’s way.”

Senna: “Oh? And what about Gwen? She’s a fetter too, and you don’t seem to want her to stay behind.”

Lucian: “Gwen’s got the Hallowed Mist protecting her!”

Senna: “And I’ve got you protecting me, or do you not have my back?”

Lucian: “That’s… You know that ain’t fair!”

Senna: “Oh really? So it’s fair that I get to stay behind and worry about my husband while you go hunting all over the world for fetters? Lucian, we swore we would always have each other’s backs. You have to stop letting what happened with Thresh hold you back!”

“Who’s Thresh?”

“Uh, is that a bad time?”

Lucian response 1: “…Someone you should pray you never meet, Rookie.”

Lucian response 2: “…No, I’d say your timin’ is perfect, Rookie.”

Senna: “We were just getting ready to set out on our next mission.”

Suddenly, Riven approaches to join the conversation.

Riven: “So… Where are we going next?”

Shen: “Mount Targon.”

Riven: “Ah! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Shen: “Mount Targon is the gateway between the earth and the heavens; a bridge into the Third Realm, that of the Celestials. Their power is often revered as godlike, so acquiring their favor may be the key to tipping the scales.”

“Wait, so we’re going to try and recruit the gods?”

“Isn’t Mount Targon like, really high though?”

Senna: “I know it’s a longshot, but either way, the Black Mist is gathering around Targon as we speak.”

Olaf: “Hmm! The gods you say? Perhaps there is a worthy foe among them!”

Senna: “Everyone, gather round! Rookie, fire up the Wayfinder!”

You wait as everyone gathers to the map table, then unleash the Wayfinder’s light to carry you to your destination. You emerge in what looks to be not a Sentinel outpost, but some manner of temple filled with carvings of Celestial bodies.

“Uh, I think something went wrong.”

“Please don’t tell me this thing is on the fritz.”

???: “Halt, trespassers!”

You turn around to see figures in peculiar armor emerging from the shadows, wielding brandishing peculiar silver weapons at you.

Lunari Soldier A: “Who are you? How did you find our sacred ground?”

Lunari Soldier B: “They must be with the Solari! Capture them!”

Gwen: “Um, pardon me, I think there’s been a misunderstanding! We’re not-”

Lunari Soldier A: “Silence! We won’t be deceived by your lies! Lunari, ready your weapons!”

Vayne: “A fine mess you’ve gotten us into, Rookie…”

Targon Part II

The Sentinels fend off their Lunari attackers, the light of their weapons clashing against the silver light of moonsteel.

Shen: “We are not your adversaries! Please, stand aside!”

Lucian: “Damn, they ain’t listening! Looks like we’re just gonna have to blast our way through!”

Lunari Soldier A: “What is this? I have never seen Solari weapons like this before!”

???: “They are not Solari! Everyone, stand down!”

Suddenly, every Lunari soldier halts, turning their attention to the entrance of the temple. A woman with long, pale hair strides into the room, clutching a large curved blade.

“Who are you?”

“Reinforcements?”

Diana: “Forgive them, travelers. My name is Diana, chosen Aspect of the Moon.”

Riven: “Aspect? You don’t mean…”

“You’re a god!?”

“You lead the Lunari?”

Diana response 1: “In a sense… Though I am only a vessel for Her power.”

Diana response 2: “A leader? No, not quite… I only speak the moon’s will to Her people.”

Olaf: “Ha! The gods of the Freljord are said to be titans! Are all of Targon’s god so tiny?”

Gwen: “Olaf, manners!”

Diana: “The moon towers above even your gods, Freljordian! Do not speak ill of her so readily.”

Lunari soldier B: “My lady, these Solari agents-”

Diana: “They are not Solari. These travelers have come far to aid us in our current plight, is that not so?”

Senna: “Actually… You could say that we’re the ones looking for help. There’s a world-wide Harrowing going on, so we hoped you Aspects could lend us a hand in dealing with it.”

Diana: “I see… In the past, Aspects would stand together to fend off the forces of darkness that threatened this world, but now we stand divided. The sun’s faithful, the Solari, persecute the Lunari as heretics! Their Aspect is…”

Diana hesitates. For a moment.

Diana: “She is difficult to speak with. As for the others: War has been killed, Justice is fragmented, and Twilight is nowhere to be found. Only the Protector remains to guard Targon’s peak from the encroaching darkness.”

“Guess we can’t expect any help from the gods…”

“So basically, you’re saying the Aspects can’t help.”

Diana: “…Not quite. It was by the Moon’s will that I came here to greet you. I know what it is you seek, travelers, and I can guide you to it.”

Vayne: “Oh, now this is a familiar set-up. Sorry, but we’ve already fallen for that trap once. It’s not happening again.”

Shen: “It is no trap. She speaks the truth.”

Lucian: “And how the hell do you know that?”

Shen: “The Eye of Twilight is not so easily deceived.”

Diana: “Time is short, travelers. Even as we speak, the Mist scours the mountain, searching for the Ruined King’s prize.”

Senna: “Damn it… I guess we don’t have a choice.”

Vayne: “…Fine, but the moment I even suspect Moonbeams here is going to turn on us, I’m putting a bolt through that glowing forehead.”

Diana: “You have nothing to fear. Now, come with me!”

Targon Part III

You follow Diana out onto the slops of Targon. The skies above you shine with the cosmos, but the land below you is obscured by a thick blanket of Black Mist.

“I can’t even see the bottom…”

“Just how high up are we?”

Diana: “Mount Targon soars into the heavens. Most would perish in an effort to make it this high, but you are fortunate to have had a means to bypass much of that climb.”

Lucian: “Come to think of it, why DID the Wayfinder bring us into your temple, anyway?”

Diana: “That temple did indeed once serve another purpose, but it has since become yet another hiding place for the Lunari to flee persecution. Those accursed Solari… They will forsake any light that isn’t the sun, forcing others to live in shadow.”

Diana descends further toward the Black Mist, leading you all closer to the howls of wraiths.

Vayne: “Seems like the shadows are where we’re headed.”

Gwen: “Um, are we quite sure about this?”

Before anyone can respond, several wraiths leap out of the Mist, ascending the mountain toward your party. You tense up, preparing for another fight, but Diana moves with inhuman speed to block their path. With a single swing of her blade, she lets loose an arcing bolt of moonlight that tears through the wraiths.

Diana: “The Moon’s silver light cuts through even the blackest darkness. You are under my protection now, so you have nothing to fear.”

“That was impressive!”

“Maybe I could get behind this whole moon-worship thing.”

Diana ignores your comments as she leads you further into the mist, wrapping herself in a silver barrier. More wraiths come your way, but Diana makes short work of those that would impede your path. The Sentinels fend of what few manage to sneak by her.

Lucian: “Hot damn, this moon lady ain’t half-bad!”

Senna: “Oh? Taken an interest in the goddess, have we, Lucian?”

Lucian: “Uh, I mean…”

Olaf: “Wait! Look there!”

You look past Diana to see a figure cutting through the Black Mist, striking down wraiths left and wright. His spear and shield glisten with the light of the cosmos and his helmet burns with pure starfire.

???: “Back, foul beasts! Your grotesque forms dishonor the fallen!”

“Who is that?”

“Another Aspect!?”

Diana response 1: “Atreus, formerly the Aspect of War. He fights with the remnants of Pantheon’s power that still linger inside him.”

Diana response 2: “Once, he was Pantheon, the Aspect of War. Now, however, he wields only a fragment of the fallen god’s might.”

Atreus: “Indeed, I am no more than a man! And no less! Whatever remnants of the god may linger, my strength is my own!”

Olaf: “Hmm! You seem like a worthy foe! Perhaps you will be the one to grant me a glorious end in battle!”

Atreus: “Glory comes not from how we die, berserker, but how we live. Now, enough talk! We share a common enemy this day, do we not, Diana?”

Diana: “Yes. We go to the dead god’s temple to find the artifact hidden within. We must keep it from the Ruined King’s grasp.”

Atreus: “So be it! Charge ahead, travelers! I will be the shield and spear at your backs!”

Without another word, Atreus rushes past you, slamming his shield into a wall of wraiths to scatter them.

Gwen: “Oh my, I hope he’ll be alright by himself!”

Vayne: “If I were you, I’d be more worried about the wraiths… Not that I’d ever spare any sympathy for these monsters.”

Diana: “What we seek lies just ahead. Come, Sentinels! We must hurry to the temple!”

Targon Part IV

After a long and arduous trek through the Black Mist, Diana finally brings you to the doors of an ancient, dilapidated temple.

“Phew… What a workout!”

“I need… A minute…”

Lucian: “Shake it off, Rookie! Our job’s not done yet.”

Riven: “So the fetter is in there?”

Diana: “Yes, that is what the Moon tells me.”

Vayne: “Let’s hope the Moon is a reliable informant.”

The Sentinels push the doors open to find the interior of the temple utterly abandoned. Tattered banners hang from nearby pillars and a heavy layer of dust lingers in the air. In the center stands a grand statue of a helmeted warrior clutching a familiar spear and shield.

“I don’t get it, why would a fetter be in a place like this?”

“Somehow, this place is even creepier than the Mist outside.”

Diana response 1: “For centuries, warriors from across Runeterra have come to make offerings here. It must be fate that one such offering would house the remnants of the Lost Queen.”

Diana response 2: “A god never truly dies. Their presence lingers in those whose lives they have touched, and where their memories are preserved.”

Shen: “I sense a growing imbalance. We should not dwell here for long.”

At Shen’s urging, fan out and scour the temple. You find many old offerings on display: trophies plucked from battlefields all over the world across the span of centuries. At first, none of them seem particularly noteworthy, but then your eyes fall upon an old, faded crest resting on a pedestal. You feel compelled to take hold of it and examine it more closely.

???: “I’ll be taking that.”

Suddenly, a shadowy hand snatches the crest from your grasp. You wheel around to see a familiar yordle standing by one of the pillars, her shadow clutching the crest behind her.

“It’s you! Um… What was your name again?”

“What the- How did you get here!?”

Vex response 1: “I never told you my name, but because I know you’re going to keep asking: it’s Vex, got it? Try to remember it.”

Vex response 2: “Ugh, more questions. Look, I’ve got ways of getting around, in case you’d forgotten.”

Hearing the commotion, the other Sentinels race to your aid. As Gwen and Senna draw near, the crest starts to emit a familiar glow.

Senna: “She’s got the fetter!”

Lucian: “Take her down, Sentinels!”

Vex: “Uh oh! Time to bale!”

Vex narrowly evades the bursts of Sentinel light that come for her, using her shadow to dart between the pillars of the temple for cover.

Riven: “She’s making a run for it!”

Senna: “Cut her off!”

Vex’s shadow carries her swiftly toward the exit, but Diana closes the distance in an instant. A massive circle of pale light surrounds her and draws Vex back into the temple.

Vex: “What the!? Hey, no fair!”

Diana slashes at Vex’s shadow, knocking the fetter from its grasp. The crest skids across the floor, landing by your feet.

Lucian: “Rookie, grab it!”

You bend over to do as Lucian says, only to be interrupted by a massive boom from outside. The whole temple trembles and knocks you off your feet.

“What was that!?”

“It wasn’t me, I swear!”

Vex: “Hey, if you guys are gonna bring a god, then so can I!”

Suddenly, the ominous presence you felt in the temple before grows heavier. A familiar figure strides into the temple, his flesh and weapons warped by the Black Mist. A look of genuine fear washes over Diana’s face.

Diana: “It can’t be…”

“Atreus!?”

“Pantheon!?”

Pantheon response 1: “No. I have reclaimed what is rightfully mine! I am Pantheon, and you are intruders upon my temple.”

Pantheon response 2: “Indeed. I am war, I am change, and I am reborn!”

Vayne: “So the Black Mist can even turn a dead god undead…”

Shen: “The scales of tipped even further!”

Pantheon: “Come then, mortals! You will be the first to receive my judgement!”

Targon Part V

Pantheon rushes into the temple, engaging the Sentinels head-on. Diana moves to intercept him, but she is quickly thrown back by the force of his spear into the base of his statue. The entire monument shakes and crumbles, burying Diana under a pile of rubble.

Lucian: “Stand strong, Sentinels! We’ve got him outnumbered!”

Pantheon: “Fool! I am an army unto myself!”

You watch as Pantheon engages your allies, effortlessly deflecting their attacks with his weapons. Shen, Riven and Olaf engage him at close-range, while Senna, Lucian and Vayne support them from a distance. Gwen does her best to support the party with Hallowed Mist, though this proves little more than an annoyance to the war god.

Senna: “Rookie! Grab that fetter and fire up the Wayfinder! We need to get out of here!”

You look to the ground to see that the crest is long-gone, along with Vex and her shadow.

“Damn! She got away with the fetter, again!”

“So, uh, I can follow exactly half of that order!”

Pantheon: “Your fight ended long before it even began, Sentinels!”

With a single swing of his spear, Pantheon knocks all of your comrades to the ground, lashing out with an unholy mix of Ruined and Celestial power. Just as the situation beings to seem dire, however, the statue behind Pantheon explodes into a burst of pale light.

Diana bursts from the rubble, swinging her moonlight-empowered blade at the war god. He turns just in time to block her strike with his shield, though the impact still causes him to stumble a little.

Diana: “Your time has passed, Warrior! Return to your slumber!”

Pantheon: “War is eternal, as am I!”

The two Aspects clash in an inhuman Celestial might, their battle causing the very temple around to you tremble. You and your allies watch, transfixed, at this deadly dance between gods in human form. A silent understanding arrives that any attempt at intervention would only result in a swift and inglorious death caught in the crossfire.

Diana dashes around with inhuman speed while Pantheon pushes with back with titanic strength, though you can’t help that something seems off about the war god’s movements. It looks to you almost as though he’s struggling to raise his spear…

Senna: “Rookie! We gotta go! This isn’t a fight mortals can play any part in!”

You snap back to reality and rush to your allies, Wayfinder in hand. Everyone musters the strength to join you, though just before you can teleport back to headquarters, a scream cuts through the temple. You look back to the battle, horrified to see Pantheon’s spear impaled through Diana’s torso.

Pantheon: “Now, you too will know what I felt at the Darkin’s blade…”

Lucian: “Rookie, do it now!”

In spite of Lucian’s orders, though, you find yourself unable to summon the light of the Wayfinder. Pantheon pulls his spear from Diana and shoves her toward you before approaching.

Pantheon: “It does not matter where you flee to, Sentinels. There is nowhere you can run, nowhere you can hide, from war. I shall storm your fortress and lay waste to your bastion, bringing a new era of war!”

“Atreus, wake up!”

“Is that really what you want, Atreus?”

Pantheon: “You speak again of my vessel, but he is back where he belongs: under my control.”

“You said that it doesn’t matter how we die, but how we live! Do you want to live as a slave in your own body, Atreus?”

“You’re wrong, Pantheon! You’re the one under Viego’s control, but Atreus wouldn’t submit so easily!”

Vayne: “Rookie, what are you-”

Pantheon: “Enough of this! I… I… Ugh!”

Suddenly, Pantheon’s form begins to flicker, the Black Mist ebbing flowing from his body to show the man underneath.

Atreus: “I am no slave, Pantheon! Not to you OR the Ruined King!”

Pantheon: “What!? You dare defy me, mortal!?”

You watch as Atreus and Pantheon wrestle for control as Black Mist floods into the temple behind you, carrying with it a swarm of wraiths. Suddenly, the Ruination gives way to Celestial light once more, but the Black Mist still clings stubbornly to Atreus’s body.

Atreus: “Go! I shall hold these abominations back, including the one within me!”

Senna: “You heard him, Rookie! Use that damn Wayfinder!”

This time, you do as you are told, calling forth the power of your Relic to carry you and your comrades back to safety. You reappear in Sentinel headquarters, far away from Mount Targon.

Lucian: “Rookie, I don’t know whether to be furious or impressed right now.”

“I know, I lost the fetter.”

“I know, I can’t believe I actually got through to him!”

Riven response 1: “Hey, it’s not your fault. We all know how slippery that yordle and her shadow can be.”

Riven response 2: “I just hope Pantheon doesn’t take control again. I really don’t want a rematch with a god.”

Gwen: “Um, speaking of whom…”

You all turn to see Diana struggling to her feet, clutching her side.

Diana: “Ngh…”

“Are you alright?”

“Hey, take it easy!”

Diana: “It was not I who suffered Pantheon’s spear, young one, but the Aspect of the Moon herself. I… Can scarcely feel Her now.”

Vayne: “So what, you’re telling us that undead god killed the moon?”

Diana: “No… She still lives, but her power is weakened. It will take many nights for her to recover.”

Lucian: “If things keep up like this, I don’t know how many more nights we have.”

Shen: “The balance grows more precarious still.”

Senna: “So much for divine intervention…”

Diana: “Ngh… Though my connection to the heavens is diminished, I can still feel Her will, however faintly. She… Wishes for me to accompany you, if you’ll have me.”

Riven: “You’re saying you want to join us?”

Diana: “I am saying that... I have little choice. I cannot return to the Lunari as I am now. I am the Moon’s voice, her vessel. Without her, I can do little for my people. All I can do is take up arms and aid you in your fight, in the hopes that doing so will drive the Black Mist from the slopes of Targon.”

Gwen: “Ooh, how marvelous! The moon lady is going to join us! Oh, follow me, and we’ll tend to your wounds as well as your wardrobe.”

Gwen leads Diana back into the Sentinel base. Though it takes slightly longer than normal thanks to Diana’s injuries, she soon emerges with the Lunari leader in tow.

Gwen: “Apologies for the wait, everyone! I now present to you all: Sentinel Diana!”

Diana: “May Mother Moon watch over us, and may we all fight our own path through the darkness.”

Lucian: “That’s… Not exactly the standard oath, but good enough, I guess.”

Senna: (Another new Sentinel, but we’re still no closer to turning things around…)

#Runeterra Retcons

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sun-summoning · 4 years

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"Nine Months” Summary: Zuko’s having a baby. A baby dragon, that is. Note: Shameless Zutara. Ignores all finale kisses.

Zuko isn’t at all tipsy when he sneaks into the room his coronation gifts are stored and begins trifling through everything. And why should he be sneaking, he wonders, not at all drunkenly stumbling into the chest of sacred scrolls someone had given him. He groans as he bends forward to rub his knee. Then he loses his balance and nearly falls flat on his face.

Fortunately, Katara is there to stop him, catching his shoulders and helping him stand straight. “You okay there, Fire Lord?”

He tries to focus on her but mostly goes cross-eyed. As the three Katara’s wave their hands in his face, he thinks he might throw up. If he threw up on her, she’d probably be furious. Especially because that would mean he ruined her dress. Perhaps she could bend it away? Was vomit-bending a thing?

“I’m fine,” Zuko replies. “I’m the Fire Lord.”

“Oh, I heard. Today was your coronation, after all.”

His coronation! Zuko perks up, now remembering why he asked Katara to play ninja with him again and sneak into the room the servants brought all the gifts into. Sokka didn’t look all that impressed with the term “play ninja”, but since Sokka was the one challenging him into a drinking contest, he wasn’t really in a position to fight. He was so far gone that Suki had to bring him back to his room.

“Why did we need to sneak in here?” Katara asks. “You’re the Fire Lord. Can’t we just waltz in?”

“But I don’t want to waltz.”

“That’s not what I--”

“Oh, swords!”

Zuko runs to the set of broad swords Master Piandao gifted him like Sokka on a shopping spree. He draws out both blades and Katara is quick to grab his hands and make him put them back down.

“You said we were here for an egg?”

“Right.”

Zuko puts the swords back on their decorative stand with only a small pout. When he remembers the reason he came here, he rummages around the piles of presents. He finds a few more weapons that peace time will only allow him to admire and not use. He finds scrolls that will bore him and scrolls that might actually interest him. He even finds some pieces of jewelry that he assumes are supposed to go to the future Fire Lady but that he’ll offer to Katara instead. Not that he assumes she’ll be the Fire Lady, of course--

“I think I found it!”

Zuko rushes over to her side, nearly knocking her over in the process. Katara has to balance both of them as Zuko leans over the box she opened and marvels at the dragon egg. He reaches in to pick it up, but Katara grabs his wrist.

“Are you sure you want to pick that up right now?” Katara asks. “You’re a little, well, inebriated.”

“I was literally just playing with the swords.”

“Yes, but if you stab yourself, I can heal you. Whereas if you drop the priceless fossilized dragon egg, that’s it.”

Zuko decides that he’s heard her warning, respects it, and isn’t going to listen. He plucks the egg out of its box and holds it delicately enough. The shell is surprisingly smooth for the scales that line it. Like virtually everything in the Fire Nation, they’re a deep red, but at certain angles the scales flash gold. Zuko turns it slowly, amazed that something barely bigger than his head could grow into the majestic beasts he met with Aang months ago. He lowers his hands to put the egg back into its case, but pauses when he feels a beat.

“Huh?”

Zuko frowns. He brings the egg closer to face, looking for something but unsure of what. The egg pulses in his hands, as if burning with life. Zuko’s hands begin to shake, so he places the egg back in the chest it came in.

“Katara?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think that dragon egg is a fossil.”

ii.

Zuko tracks down the gift giver, an eccentric old merchant that was old friends with his uncle. He explains that the egg truly had been a fossil for dozens of years, sitting in one of his smaller warehouses as a lump of black rock that he held onto for sentiment’s sake. However, that warehouse caught fire during the day Zuko returned to the Fire Nation to claim his rightful place, and among the ashes, he found the egg restored, ready to hatch after nine months. Considering it an auspicious sign, he simply knew the dragon egg would need to be given to the new Fire Lord.

The next day, Zuko announces his impending fatherhood to the rest of his friends.

Sokka is quick to pick up the knife he’d been using on his breakfast before Katara explains that Zuko is having a dragon baby, not a human one.

“Oh.” Sokka sits back down. “Wait. What? A dragon?”

“A dragon,” Zuko confirms.

Aang looks ecstatic. “That’s so cool, Zuko! When your dragon gets big, you guys can race me and Appa!”

Toph punches Aang’s shoulder. “No way! The first thing that dragon is doing is taking me on my life-changing field trip.” She scowls at Zuko’s general direction. “I’m still waiting, you know.”

“I think Zuko needs to focus on, you know, reforming the Fire Nation, Toph,” Katara points out.

Toph sighs dramatically. “You’ve really changed, Sparky. How dare you.”

Later at dinner, Sokka tells them that he spent the day in the library. That isn’t much of a surprise to anyone because Sokka absolutely loves the palace library and often only leaves when he’s told it’s time to eat.

“I was reading about dragons today,” he explains. “Did you know you have tons of books about dragons?”

Zuko did not. “Of course I did.”

“Well, okay, so where’s the egg?”

“Still with the other gifts?”

“Zuko!”

Sokka stands with a small shriek. He takes off running. The rest of them resume eating until a few minutes later, Sokka returns with the egg and a long length of cloth that may or may not have been a banner.

“Sokka!” Katara yells. “Don’t run with the egg! What if you dropped it?!”

Sokka ignores his sister and deposits the egg in Toph’s lap. “Here, hold it.”

“Yeah, that sounds safe,” she grumbles.

“I’ll hold it!” Aang says.

“No!” Toph folds over where the egg sits. “It’s mine!”

“No fair!” Aang pouts as he turns to Katara. “Katara, Toph isn’t sharing!”

Katara sighs and tells them to take turns.

Meanwhile, Sokka succeeds in making Zuko stand with his arms outstretched. As he works, he explains that the books all said that the egg needed to stay warm at almost all times, meaning Zuko would need to use his natural body heat to take care of his future dragon. Sokka proceeds to wrap the cloth around his middle and shoulders, leaving a small pocket on Zuko’s chest. As Toph finally agrees to let Aang have a turn holding the dragon egg, Sokka plucks it away and tucks it against Zuko.

“Behold, the Dragon Daddy...Carrier...Thing.” Sokka holds his arms out as he shows Zuko’s new look off to their friends. Everyone regards Zuko in his formal attire with a dragon egg strapped against his chest. “Super manly, am I right?”

Katara crosses her arms, utterly unimpressed. “There’s nothing manly about it.”

Sokka glares at her and Zuko looks positively offended.

She rolls her eyes. “What I mean is that women have been doing that for centuries, Sokka. You’re hardly a genius.”

“But I’m still manly right?” Zuko asks.

“Sure?”

They resume dinner and Sokka regales them with all that he’s learned about dragons. When they’re done, Aang reminds everyone that he still didn’t get a chance to hold the dragon egg.

Zuko says he can have his turn after dessert.

iii.

On rare occasions, Zuko is told that he cannot bring his egg into particular meetings. His advisors are generally accepting of this minor eccentricity, but he knows when to pick his battles, and relents. After all, some other attendees might not take him seriously with a sling strapped across his abdomen. During those moments, Zuko entrusts his egg with Katara.

Katara looks significantly less weird with the egg held against her body. She’s still too young to be a mother, but she certainly looks like one like that. And it doesn’t help that she’s flanked by Aang and Toph who are both touching the egg and commenting on how the scales feel.

When he’s done for the day, he heads their way. Toph notices him first, turning her head in his general direction. Aang and Katara see him next, the former waving excitedly while the latter smiles in that way that makes Zuko’s heart skip a beat.

“Thanks,” Zuko says when he’s in front of them, “for, um, watching my egg.”

“That sounded weird.” Katara makes a face. “I hated that entire sentence.”

“Well how else am I supposed to say it, Katara?”

Her lips twitch in amusement and Zuko can’t help but smile back. He wracks his brain for something clever or maybe even flirtatious. Naturally, he comes up short.

Aang breaks the silence and eye contact though by tugging Zuko’s sleeve. “Hey Zuko, next time you need to look like a super serious Fire Lord--”

“I am a super serious Fire Lord.”

“--can I eggsit? I’ll be super responsible, I promise! And I can actually firebend, so I can be warm for the egg too!”

Zuko considers Aang’s hopeful grin while also considering that he and Toph thought it’d be a great idea to airbend a pair of ostrich-horses onto the roof for a race. There was nothing responsible about that. Toph couldn’t even see! Aang could be trusted with restoring balance and taking bending away from bad people, sure, but eggsitting Zuko’s future dragon? No way.

“Aang, yesterday you made a mini cyclone in the garden.”

“Yeah, but that’s because Sokka wanted to see what it’d look like on a smaller scale than the ocean.”

“That...no. No, you don’t get to eggsit.”

“Boo!” Aang crosses his arms and pouts. “Fine. I guess only Katara gets to hold your egg.”

Zuko frowns. “Yeah, I hated that entire sentence.”

iv.

Every few weeks, Toph confirms that the dragon is indeed a healthy thing. With the egg on the ground and her hands holding it in place, she tells Zuko that it has a regular, steady heartbeat. Of course, she doesn’t really know how a dragon’s heart should beat. For all she knew, it wasn’t actually beating at the proper rate and the dragon was doomed.

“Nah,” Sokka says. He begins tapping the floor. “It should be like this.”

Katara raises an eyebrow. “How would you even know that?”

“I read about it.”

“You read about dragon heartbeats?” Katara frowns. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“It’s absolutely a thing!”

Zuko drowns them out as he picks the egg up from where it sits before Toph and carefully tucks it back into his sling. His hands rest upon it while Aang leans in close to marvel at it too.

“Man, this is so awesome, Zuko!” he exclaims.

“Yeah.”

“A dragon. For the new Fire Lord.”

“Yeah.”

“And--” Aang pauses. He rises to get a better look at Zuko’s face. “Are you...crying?”

“Of course not!” Zuko bites out. “There’s just something in my eyes!”

Toph snorts. “Yeah, alright.”

She makes a joke about how Zuko does this every time she checks the heartbeat, while Aang suggests maybe using waterbending to see if it’ll be a boy dragon or a girl dragon. Toph laughs and says Zuko won’t be able to hide his crying if that happens. Zuko carefully blinks back tears before he snaps back at them for being right.

Zuko joins his uncle for tea in the afternoon. His uncle has been busy with the efforts to reestablish peace, and they certainly still have more work ahead of them, but Zuko is happy to have him home again.

“I’ve heard rumours, nephew, that you have...secured your legacy.”

Zuko nods. He will never share the legacy of the Fire Lords before him, conquerors and tyrants alike. No, Zuko will be the bringer of peace and its champion too. He will teach kindness and compassion. He will restore culture, reform education, and continue to reinvent to match his people’s needs.

“Yes, uncle.”

“That’s good to hear.” Iroh pauses. “However, you are not married.”

“I...am not, uncle.”

“Perhaps--”

“There you are!”

Zuko looks up to find Katara entering the room. In her arms is the dragon egg that he’d dropped off to her that morning because of some commitments.

“Hey,” Zuko says, letting Katara’s settle the egg in his lap.

Katara then ignores him and decorum by rushing over to his uncle’s side.

“Iroh!” she greets. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It is good to see you as well, Master Katara.” When she draws away, Iroh examines her up and down and then frowns. He quickly covers that up with a smile though. “Please, won’t you join us for tea?”

“I’d love to, but I promised I’d help Aang with some stuff. Are you free tomorrow morning?”

“For you, Master Katara, I will be.”

Katara laughs and sets a time before making her way out again. When she’s gone, Iroh looks at Zuko and stays silent.

“What?” Zuko asks.

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly it’s something.”

Iroh purses his lips, as if unsure if he should say what’s on his mind.

Zuko doesn’t understand why he suddenly seemed so disappointed. Zuko had just confirmed that he would no longer carry on their family’s legacy of destruction. Shouldn’t that make his uncle happy? But instead he saw Katara and looked sad. This was obviously Katara’s fault then. Katara’s fault for being--

Zuko stills. He looks down at his tea and then back up at his uncle’s solemn face. He exhales and finds angry steam coming out of his nostrils.

“Uncle,” he begins slowly, because he is a kind Fire Lord and kind Fire Lords don’t lose their temper with people, even gossiping uncles. “Were you under the impression that I...and Katara...” Zuko’s features contort into a scowl. He refuses to even say the words. “Uncle!”

“Now, now. You must forgive an old man for chatting with old friends over pai sho, nephew.”

“About my love life?!”

“But of course.” Iroh grins. “It is a very popular topic all over the world.”

“Uncle, please!”

vi.

As an ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe, Katara’s stays in the Fire Nation are long, but not permanent. She spends her last evening there with Zuko and the dragon egg.

“Based on everything we’ve read, the egg shouldn’t hatch for another three months.”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll only be gone for two months.”

“Correct.”

“I’m going to be back on time for the birth.”

“I know you will.”

“I’m going to be so upset if I miss it...”

“Don’t worry,” Zuko reassures. “Druk will wait for you.”

Katara grins. She likes the name he picked. She knows he spent a lot of time poring over a list of names of the dragons that used to be partnered with members of the royal family. The original Druk belonged to a Fire Lord from centuries ago whose reign was one of peace and prosperity. He was a huge patron of the arts and Love amongst the Dragons was written in his time.

“Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?”

“Obviously.”

“Make sure you eat three meals a day.”

“I already do that!”

“Because I make you!”

“I missed a meal one time--”

“Yeah, per day!” She pokes his shoulder. “And make sure you sleep.”

“I will.”

“I mean it. I’ll know if you don’t.”

“Yeah? How will you manage that, waterbender?”

The question comes out more coyly than he ever would have intended. And calling her anything other than her name has always seemed more flirtatious than intended. Granted, maybe he did intend it. Zuko smirks for effect, hoping he seems as cool to her as he wants to be.

Katara narrows her eyes, lifting her chin a fraction and crossing her arms and--

Agni, it was happening.

They were officially flirting.

Zuko willed his beating heart to be still.

“I have my ways,” she drawls with a little grin of her own. But that soon fades into sadness. “I’m going to miss you, Zuko.”

Zuko nods. He’s going to miss her too. Katara has been around since he defeated Azula. He got used to her presence when they were still fighting in the war and he became at home with it during their stay in the Fire Nation.

“Zuko...”

Katara leans forward and Zuko’s heart begins to race. Actually, it was already racing. Now it’s just beating ridiculously fast. This might actually be a health hazard, Zuko realizes. Perhaps Katara wasn’t good for him after all if she was going to make his heart go crazy and make his stomach hurt in that weird, stupid fluttering way all the time. Her lips twitch, puling into a pucker, and Zuko knows this is it.

This is it.

He closes his eyes, ready as if he hasn’t been ready for months now, and then--

Nothing.

He blinks, confused, and catches the back of Katara’s head as she stands back up and grins sheepishly. She pats the dragon egg strapped to his chest.

“I had to give Druk a kiss goodbye,” she explains.

“Right,” Zuko mumbles. “Druk.”

He tries not to pout. Really, he does. But apparently he doesn’t try hard enough because soon Katara is giggling. She reaches up, one hand cupping his cheek as her thumb brushes his skin.

“I’m going to miss you,” she tells him.

“I’m going to miss you too.”

Her gaze flickers to his lips and he watches the way she swallows nervously. Deciding it’s now or never, Zuko leans in, and is pleased when Katara meets his lips half way. It’s a bit of an awkward lean considering the dragon egg between them, but Zuko wouldn’t change a thing. He kisses her softly, unwilling to rush what he knows is going to be a good thing.

Eventually they draw apart and Katara smiles shyly. “Will you see me off in the morning? Well, Ninja Zuko, not Fire Lord Zuko.”

Zuko nods, still a bit breathless. “Of course.”

vii.

Fire Lord Zuko’s less than standard choice of outfit is expected at this point. Gone is the initial sash Sokka made when they first realized the egg needed to be held at all times. He has new ones in a variety of colours. Some have even been gifted to him by other dignitaries on their visits, so Zuko has half a dozen shades of green. Today he wears the yellow one that Aang so eagerly gave him the other month.

He looks ridiculous, therefore he stands out. And because he stands out, it makes an attempt on his life that much easier.

Of course, Zuko has the best guards in the entire world, and his attackers are dealt with swiftly.

Panicking, Zuko unwraps the yellow silk and carefully inspects the dragon egg. He frets until he finishes.

“He’s okay,” Zuko breathes in relief.

“Good,” Suki says, “because I don’t think you were the target.”

“What do you mean?”

Suki nods to the egg. “They were aiming for that.”

“Druk?”

“Great.” Mai sighs as she looks up at the ceiling. “He already named it.”

“Of course I did!”

“I think Druk is a great name, Zuko!” Ty Lee says.

Suki continues searching the room with her two new recruits. “Why would someone want to assassinate a dragon?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Mai turns to Zuko and finds him rewrapping the yellow silk around his body to cradle his dragon egg close. “A new Fire Lord supported not only by the Avatar, but by a dragon. No propaganda can beat that in the Fire Nation, especially when you started walking around with the real thing. They probably think you’ve been chosen by the spirits.”

“But dragons are extinct, Mai,” Ty Lee points out.

“So, what, that’s a toucan puffin then?”

“If someone wants Zuko out of the way,” Suki muses, “they know they need to get rid of that dragon before it’s born.”

“Exactly.”

Zuko rises, scowling in his Fire Lord regalia and the sling wrapped around him. Fire shoots out out of Zuko’s clenched fists. He might look absurd, but his expression is fearsome as he all but growls, “They can try.”

viii.

Katara returns a few days earlier than expected. Maybe the tides had been kind to her ship. Maybe there was a master waterbender on board. Who knew. Fire Lord Zuko requests the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador join him for dinner, which she arrives to after a long day of napping.

Zuko feels a weight lifted off his shoulders when he sees her again. She’s safe, she’s healthy, and if that smile is anything to go by, she’s happy too.

She tells him all about how much they’ve done to restore things to how they were back when she was a girl, along with all the other innovations Sokka’s bringing about. She talks about her grandmother’s cooking, her father’s leadership, and her brother’s antics. Tomorrow will include more official topics about the Tribe’s needs, but tonight is for catching up.

“I guess you enjoyed your stay,” Zuko mumbles, happy for her.

“Definitely. But if I’m being honest, towards the end I...” She meets his eyes for a moment, something akin to longing in her gaze, before she looks down at her plate. She shrugs. “I started to miss it here towards the end.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I really like swimming. And surfing. And...stuff.”

Zuko clears his throat. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, you know. Permanently, even!”

“That’s not really how ambassadors work, Zuko.”

“Yeah. I know. Maybe in, um, a different capacity?”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh...”

A voice that sounds suspiciously like his uncle’s says Fire Lady, but Zuko will never ever say that to her face. Yeah, he’s probably in love with her. Oh, how he’s in love with her. And he’s vaguely positive Katara has feelings for him too. And they kissed before! But Zuko could never ask that of her right now.

“I don’t know,” he says to save himself. He doesn’t do a good job, but Katara doesn’t push the topic.

“There’s still a lot of work to do,” Katara eventually replies.

Zuko manages not to groan at the understatement.

“Here in the Fire Nation, but around the world too. These past few years have taught me that the world is wide and that I’m in a unique position to be helpful. If I don’t use what I’ve learned to help people in need...that just seems irresponsible.” She grins. “But I’ll come back. I’m always going to come back.”

“Wouldn’t you want to go...home?”

“Of course I’ll visit the South Pole, but...” She shrugs. “Home is very spread out now,” she explains with a small laugh. “Aang and Toph are going back to the Earth Kingdom after Druk is born, Sokka is already back with the Tribe, Suki is going back to Kyoshi when she’s done here, and, well, you’re here, Zuko.”

“I’m...home?”

Katara blinks, taken aback. “Did you think you weren’t?”

Zuko doesn’t say anything, too rattled by the admission, too overwhelmed by its meaning. Katara considered him home. Katara held him at the same esteem as people as precious to her as her family. Katara wanted to come back to him. Katara considered him someone worth coming back to.

“And now home is this guy too.” She rests her palm upon the dragon egg, dangerously close to his pounding heart.

Zuko’s hand rises on its own, settling gently over Katara’s. She looks up at him, startled, and he takes a breath.

“Katara, this is my home. It kind of has to be. But it’s, um, better when you’re here.”

“O--oh.”

Katara’s hand shakes. Or maybe it’s his hand shaking and he’s affecting her too. It doesn’t matter though, because Katara turns hers over and laces her fingers through his. She holds his hand and she smiles.

Agni, he loved her smile. Agni, he loved her.

His hand begins to grow sweaty. “Uh,” he self-consciously coughs. “Do you want to hold Druk?” Zuko pulls his hand away and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s been a while for you.”

Katara opens her arms to him and his dragon baby. “I’d love to.”

ix.

The first crack comes some time after midnight when Zuko is reading a report from the ever-growing stack in his office, with the egg nestled in his crossed legs. Zuko looks down, but doesn’t really see anything strange, so he keeps reading. But a moment later, the egg begins to shake. Eyes wide, Zuko finds himself frozen.

The egg wobbles as the single fracture on the side begins to grow like a web.

“Katara!” he hisses. “Katara!”

In this moment, he’s grateful she deigned to linger in his office and read those trashy romance scrolls Ty Lee shared with her.

“What is it--oh!” Katara sucks in a sharp breath when she notices the way the egg moves. She rushes to his side and kneels down. “Is it--”

“It is!” Zuko, unable to move with the leg in his lag, grabs her hand. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I--I don’t know! I’ve only delivered babies!”

“This is a baby!”

“A dragon baby, Zuko!”

They both yelp when a clawed, red appendage breaks through the cracks.

“It’s...” Zuko reaches out for Katara’s hand, squeezing it as the little dragon inside continues to push his way out. “That’s it, buddy,” Zuko encourages. “You’re doing great.” He feels Katara place her free hand on his shoulder. She tells him to breath because at some point he stopped. He doesn’t do a good job listening though, so she begins to loudly inhale and exhale so that he can follow.

Soon another arm comes through, and one moment later, a little head pops through the top of the egg.

Zuko makes a noise that might be a sob and lets go of Katara to help peel away the bits of shell stuck of the little dragon’s head. He blinks at Zuko with dazed golden eyes before his mouth opens into something that can only be deemed a yawn.

“Hi Druk,” Zuko whispers, holding his hand out to the little dragon.

Druk slithers out of what’s left of his shell and sniffs Zuko’s hand. He’s just a bit bigger than a newborn turtle duck, so it’s not a problem when he settles on Zuko’s awaiting palm.

Amazed, Zuko turns to Katara with the widest smile she’s ever seen on his face. “He likes me!” He begins to laugh as Druk crawls up his arm and over his head to the other shoulder. He presses his head against Zuko’s cheek and nuzzles him.

Katara rolls her eyes fondly. “Of course he does. I’m sure he recognizes that you’re the one who kept his egg warm for nine--”

She yelps when Druk takes advantage of Katara’s hand still on Zuko’s back, using that arm as a bridge to climb on her shoulder. His claws are tugging at her hair, albeit only lightly, and soon he’s rubbing his little head against her chin.

“He likes you too!”

Reminded of Zuko, Druk’s golden eyes snap back open and he leaps off of Katara and into Zuko’s lap. Fortunately, he’d had the sense to push the empty shell away when Druk was climbing around. Druk circles the space of his lap before finally curling up and settling down.

Utterly amazed, Zuko gathers his resting son into his arms and stands. He’ll need to prepare a place for Druk, but Katara says she’ll take care of that for now.

“Spend time with your newborn, Fire Lord.”

At the window, Zuko considers showing Druk all that the light touches, but realizes it’s night and so he should wait until tomorrow. He laughs, still utterly astonished by this turn of events, and silently thanks the man who gifted him with the egg at his coronation. Druk twitches and resettles in his arms. He yawns and then he huffs with a little burst of fire escaping his mouth.

Zuko looks down at Druk with adoration and excitement in his eyes.

“I have a dragon.”

#fic #zutara #and general gaang shenanigans #should've been zuko centric lol #but nah

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kendrixtermina · 3 years

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Things I admire about other enneagram types (from a 5 perspective)

6: You have this switch you can throw where you can just act confident in dire situations. I know from what you tell me it feels awful on the inside but it’s still useful. I can’t do that unless I’m actually confident about something. Some of you also have excellent BS detectors & think of checking things that wouldn’t occur to me. ive learned so much from you guys im jully that your ideas are so much more practical on average

3: You somehow bring the joys of practical problem solving approach into the social/interpersonal realm & somehow solve things that I wouldn’t consider solveable. There’s something rly valuable to being ‘a positive realist’.

8: How are you so concise? You’re so good at saying things in a clear, impactful manner! (compared to us rambly head types at least)

It’s a somewhat rare type & I don’t know many people, so I don’t know anyone IRL in depht, but at least for the more self-aware examples, many that I’ve seen in internet videos etc. also strike me as pretty likeable, especially in that straightforwardness & the way they admit to their stuff and like... actually say things out loud that’s just instantly interesting.

1: Some 1s are not chill, but the ones that are are very chill indeed. Very impressive. The cool & unique thing about your way of thinking is how you’re objective but positivistic (without an overly positive focus) - my way of thinking is more negativistic, I see holes, things that are not there etc. novel visions happen but it’s hard to synthethize them on purpose. You guys tho? You see what IS there & concrete visions for what can be done to fix stuff.

Something that I find fascinating is how we’re both running optimization algorithms but yours is maximizing (looking for the most results for a fixed expense) while mine is minimizing. (looking to get a fixed results with least uneccesary variables)

7: So many cool ideas! Actually way more competent & dilligent than ppl assume especially if older & wiser. Ppl underappreciate how much this is very much a mental type. Please, do keep talking interesting stuff to me im listening * big shiny owl eyes *

Also have the advantage of usually having tons of other friends to have fun with when I don’t feel like extroverting right now so i dont feel so bad if i cant make it all the time.

9: Maybe you think ppl don’t want to hear about your vast imagination but I for once think it’s super cool. No pressure to share though, not making a big deal about it just makes you mysterious. When you do tell me your thoughts, i can rest assured in the knowledge that im a special level 10 friend. ^-^

Also you can be so likeable & funny & ppl really listen to you? Like I’ve noticed myself that sometimes I’d be all angry & worked up into some complicated idea about why I’m right and the other person is terrible, and then this 9 dude who’d just been listening on the sidelines so far would say something super disarming that just cut through all my BS rationalisations, and soon after there was just no more argument & I really changed my actions long-term??

4: Ppl don’t sufficiently appreciate how badass you can be, esp when you know what you want

Over the years I had several 4 friends who were just, like, me but cooler, if I had the energy & comitment for this sort of consummate defiance against The Machine every day. One had picked up some old mannequins & made a decoration for her room out of it & that was such a power move? & she knew all these obscure art films... I wish I’d stayed in touch with them more.

2: i would prolly write more here if i knew more 2s in-depht; Even so I must commend how you notice & remember so much stuff about ppl?

For all that I think that conventions like social obligations gifts & holidays are often forced BS, I’m impressed with how much love you can put into that. It doesn’t feel like BS coming from you.

5: Now I don’t know that many in-depht, but from my own, possibly biased PoV I’ve perceived the few other ones I’ve actually got to know as refreshingly uncomplicated & accepting (even if they seem picky at first), but also way more passionate than you’d think on first glance. You should see them in their element, if you have the opportunity. The sorts of ppl whose eyes sparkle for the beauty in forgotten places.

IDK if others would also describe me this way as well. One does try.

#enneagram #typology

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princesssarcastia · 4 years

Text

more aos!trek sense8 au

hi! I’ve decided to commit to the crazy and continue writing this au. i have no fucking clue what I’m doing, but I am a sucker for outsider POV, so uh. have some outsider POV.

—

Little Nyota has a voracious appetite for languages and alien cultures and the stars; smart as a whip, too. None of them laugh when her five-year old brow furrows and she declares she’s going to learn all of the languages, because—

Well. If Lela would believe it of anyone, it would be her niece.

But this is...unexpected.

After that Starfleet recruiter turned up at their class, she begs and begs and begs, twirling around the yard to find one old-enough relative to take her on a tour of the outpost in their city.

Lela knows what it feels like to be so excited about the future you can’t breathe, so she smiles and agrees.

The tour guide for the Starfleet outpost is Vulcan, of all things; a rarity, though more common here than other parts of the world. The dry heat of their city is apparently similar to that of Vulcan.

And when the Lieutenant greets their group, Nyota straightens her spine and offers the ta’al right back, with a carefully articulated Vulcan phrase. A greeting.

Lela stares at her niece in shock. No Uhura had taught her that, and it wasn’t offered in school yet. How...

The Lieutenant raises an eyebrow, more expression than Lela’s ever seen on a Vulcan, and says something else to Nyota, who nearly vibrates with excitement before screwing up her face and replying again. She didn’t just pick up stock phrases, she’s actually speaking Vulcan.

They head out for the tour soon after; Nyota whispering to one of her invisible friends the entire time.

No one seems to know how Nyota learned to speak Vulcan, when Lela asks, and eventually they write it off as part and parcel of raising a linguistic genius.

—

Alexei watches on, curious, as his nephew goes through what looks like basic fencing sets: lunge, parry, riposte, repeat.

Every so often he will adjust his stance, as though he’s being corrected.

Another one of his mind-friends, no doubt. After everything he’s seen in his life, Alexei saw no reason to doubt Pavel’s claim that he shared a telepathic bond with six other people.

It didn’t hurt that verifying their existence was relatively easy, once Alexei had their names.

“Watch your footwork on your retreat, Pashenka,” he calls firmly, observing how Pavel reacts to the interruption and the criticism. Smiles, when his nephew corrects himself again and throws him a grin without pausing.

These mind-friends of his are good for Pavel.

—

Amanda retreats to the balcony in the early morning, as she always does. The cool night air hasn’t entirely dissipated yet, allowing her to enjoy the fresh air until the heat of the Vulcan day chases her back inside.

Today, Spock follows her. He’s spent less and less time sitting with her as his schooling progresses. It hurts her heart, a little, to watch him draw away, and she suspects the attitudes of his classmates may have something to do with it, but she also knows her son’s devotion to be just like his father would have pulled him in that direction anyway.

So she gives him as big a smile as he can be comfortable with when he settles across the table from her.

“Mother, I have a query,” he says solemnly. Her mouth twitches at the expression on his face, just a little, but she knows better than to laugh at her serious boy.

“Go ahead, Spock.”

“Do humans ever exhibit signs of telepathy or empathetic abilities?”

She blinks. “Certainly. Humans of non-human descent often take on such abilities.”

He frowns, just a little, and she sees she must have misunderstood him. “But do humans ever spontaneously develop telepathic bonds with one another as children?”

Something in her stills. She recalls her studies of the Eugenics Wars on Earth and takes a deep breath. “Not in recent memory, but there are unconfirmed reports of such bonds developing before the Eugenics Wars. It’s believed if the ability ever did exist naturally in humanity, it died out then.” Amanda hesitates, then says, “There are some family records of that period to indicate that my ancestors may have possessed something like this ability.”

Spock’s face clears, and Amanda knows she guessed correctly. “Spock,” she says gently, “have you experienced one of these bonds?”

“Yes, mother. Six of them. Nyota and Jim were unable to determine the origins of the bonds through their research, but I predicted you would have some knowledge of it.” Something she wouldn’t hesitate to call satisfaction or pride on a human brushes across his face.

“Six,” she breathes. There is no reason to lie, and Spock’s preternatural telepathic abilities are well documented. This is not beyond the realm of possibility.

Sarek, she knows, will ask how long this has been happening, want to calculate the distance between Spock and these other people, measure the strength of the bonds. But those are questions for Sarek to ask.

Instead, Amanda asks, “What are their names?” and sees her son’s face brighten for the first time in ages

—

Sharon monitors the signals from USS Shenzhou, USS Farragut, and USS Prometheus, all schedule to check in with Command today, when she notices a sonic anomaly in one of the transmissions. Only, they don’t look like subspace, more—

“..hear me? —lo, can you hear me? —fleet command, —me?”

Her eyes narrow. That voice doesn’t sound right, and they’re not hailing from any assigned frequencies. How the hell...

She boosts the transmission. “This is Starfleet command; state your name and location.”

“Oh, thank god! Uh, my name is Nyota Uhura and you have to send a ship to Tarsus IV, now! Governor Kodos, he’s—”

The voice cuts out again. Sharon frowns and responds. “Kid, I have no idea how you got on this frequency, but this is reserved for Starfleet communications only.” She makes a note in the log and then scrambles the line.

Only, five minutes later it happens again.

“Starfleet command, can you hear me? This is Nyota Uhura again, you have to listen, please he’s ki—”

Who the hell is this girl? “Listen, Uhura, this frequency is reserved for Starfleet Command. You need to clear it for official business.” She reaches out to scramble the line again when her voice comes through, much clearer this time.

“Please, he’s killing them, he’s shooting them! You have to listen, please!”

Killing? “Who’s killing who?” She says sharply, hands hovering over the controls. God, what the hell, the girl sounds genuinely distressed. Val’tk turns to look at her questioningly and she waves her hand at him.

“Governor Kodos, on Tarsus IV. He’s—he shooting them. He told them he had to kill them, the crops are failing, they don’t have enough food, please you have to send someone right now!”

“Tarsus IV?” Sharon replies. “The new colony near uncharted space?” She hesitates. This would be a hell of a prank to play, but...

Muting her transmitter, she turns to Val’tk. “When was the last transmission from Tarsus IV?”

He eyes her, but pulls up the logs anyway. His eyes race over the data. “A few days ago; nothing out of the ordinary.”

She frowns, and unmutes. “Look, nice try, kid, but seeing as you’re on Earth and Tarsus hasn’t reported crop failures of any kind, there’s no way what you’re saying is true.” A few more seconds and she initiates traceback on the signal, putting her somewhere in eastern African Confederation.

“Now, I’m ordering you to surrender this line, as it’s reserved for Starfleet Command only.” And she scrambles it again, kicking Uhura, whoever she is, off the frequency.

But then the kid comes back again.

“Starfleet Command, this is Nyota Uhura, again. I’m not going to stop until you listen to me! Please, just—please. Jim needs your help! They’re running away from the guards now but I think—I think everyone’s dead,” her voice breaks, and Sharon hesitates again.

Jesus, this is crazy, there’s no way. But...oh, fuck it.

“Look, Uhura, there’s no proof what you’re saying is true. Where are you even getting this information?” She asks.

The line falls silent, for long enough that she considers switching it off again, but then Uhura comes back.

“You can...you can contact the Vulcan embassy. What’s your name?”

And now they’re back to crazy, but there’s still something about this...”Lieutenant Sharon Cartwright.”

“Lieutenant, contact the Vulcan embassy and tell them your name. They’ll put you through to...to someone who can confirm what’s happening.”

“Look, kid, I don’t have time for—”

“Please, I’m begging you, please. The longer you wait the more people are going to die, just contact the embassy!”

Fuck. Is she really doing this?

“Hey, there’s...” Val’tk interrupts. “Someone from United Earth just requested access to the Tarsus IV data transmissions. It’s here in the logs.” Sharon turns to him and feels something uneasy work through her stomach.

She stares at Val’tk for a long moment. “Alright, kid. Please hold.”

What even is the line for the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco? Her fingers fly through the contact list, and she pulls up their number.

Man, she’s going to get in so much trouble for this if they’re wrong. “Vulcan embassy, this is,” she blows out, “Lieutenant Sharon Cartwright from Starfleet Command. I’m told you can put me through to someone to confirm what’s happening on Tarsus IV?”

A pause, a long pause, where Sharon goes back to thinking, this is nuts, I just got pnked by some asshole with a ham radio, when the Vulcan says, “One moment. Connecting you to Ambassador Sarek now.”

“Ambassador Sarek?” she blurts, but they’re already putting her through.

The ambassador doesn’t waste any time. “Lieutenant Cartwright, I can indeed confirm what Ms. Uhura has told you about Tarsus IV. Governor Kodos’s guards have opened fired on the colonists, for reasons unknown at this time. We do not yet know how many are dead.”

Sharon just...stops. Checks that she’s really taking to the Ambassador from Vulcan again. Stares back at Val’tk, who hasn’t stopped looking at her.

“I’m going to...put you through to Commander Aldrin, Ambassador.” She mechanically transfer’s the Ambassador’s line, sends a notification that her CO needs to pick up the comm right the fuck now what the fuck is happening.

Then she takes Uhura off hold. “Uhura, the Ambassador confirmed your story. I don’t,” Sharon laughs shortly, hysteria bubbling up her chest, “I have no clue what’s going on, kid, but I’m pretty sure you do. Where are you getting your information?”

Crackling silence, then, “I share a telepathic bond with one of the colonists.”

“And what’s his name, kid?”

“Jim Kirk.”

Telepathic bond, fuck. How clear is it? “What’s Jim Kirk,” she looks at Val’tk pointedly, “doing right now?” Val’tk moves hurriedly to pull the information up. Fuck if this isn’t either of their jobs, but also fuck if Sharon’s going to foist this off on someone else.

“Running. He’s—they’re running. When he figured it out he grabbed people and they starting running and the guards started shooting and now they’re outside and it’s loud and—”

I put this kid on hold, Sharon thinks. I kicked her off the line, twice. “Okay, Uhura. It’ll be—” alright? no it won’t, fuck, “the Ambassador is talking to Starfleet right now, we’re aware of the situation. Just keep talking to me, okay? Can you do that, Uhura?”

“...yes. Yes, I can do that, Lieutenant.”

—

Chris blinks at the sight of that crazy Russian genius kid everyone keeps going on about waving his hands in Spock’s face yelling about math.

And then raises his eyebrows when Spock starts clearly arguing back, with more agitation in his movements than Chris has ever seen before, even that one time they got into it with the Tellarite delegation on that one planet.

Huh. Now that he thinks about it, they’re about the same age, even though Spock seems so much older in Chris’s head.

“Lieutenant Commander Spock,” he calls out, stepping forward to insert himself into the conversation, just because he’s curious.

Spock immediately straightens and pulls out of whatever staring contest he’d been in. “Yes, Captain.” He salutes, picture perfect, while the Russian kid is still pulling himself out of whatever fugue math-rage he’s in.

“At ease.” Chris nods to the kid. “And who’s this?”

“Oh!” He gets off a salute and immediately starts babbling. “Chekov, sir, Pavel Andreievich. Sorry, sir. We were just arguing about the mass gap and Yang-Mills existence.”

“Of course you were.”

—

Hendorff spend the entire shuttle ride trying not to send angry, confused glances at Uhura. His abdomen is still bruised like a peach from where she planted her foot in his stomach out of nowhere, just because he hit the townie hitting on her.

Yeah, he was buzzed, but she was clearly miles ahead of this asshole. She should be thanking him.

But instead, she and the asshole spend the entire ride sitting next to each other, leaning into the space between them. He’s had classes with Uhura before, last year, and they see each other in passing around campus; not once did she seem like she was...basking in anyone’s presence like she is right now. Even helped him with his fucking seatbelt!

At least the asshole seems just as awed to be sitting next to her, but come on. He calls bullshit.

And then the shuttle lands.

They dock right on campus and the other cadets start unlatching and pouring out the hatch, bleeding off in twos and threes while Captain Pike does final checks before shutdown. Uhura and the asshole practically leap out the door, and Hendorff catches up just in time to see them crash into a group of cadets waiting just outside.

He recognizes them, mostly; the same guys Uhura spends all her time with. Not that Hendorff is keeping tabs, its just that everyone knows who they are. Academy rumor has it they’re either going to run the ‘fleet someday, or burn it to the ground.

All four of them, Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov, have the asshole in a death grip, seeming to clutch at whatever part of him and each other they can reach. He feels something like unease run down his spine. Maybe...maybe they know each other?

Fuck, of course they knew each other, you don’t hug a stranger like that. Now the question is how the hell do they know each other.

As he sidesteps them (still basically right in front of the shuttle hatch, like they hadn’t noticed they were in the way and about fifteen different people stopped to gawk) he hears the asshole say, “When does Bones get in? And where the hell is Spock, huh?”

At that point, he mentally throws up his hands and surrenders to the confusion. No fucking way he’ll figure out how a dumb hick from Iowa knows Starfleet’s brightest cadets and Lieutenant Commander Spock before even setting foot on campus.

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stellacolletore · 4 years

Text

08.26.2020

oneechan, let’s eat! anime: chihayafuru characters: mashima rika, mashima taichi/ayase chihaya, mashima oligo, mashima reiko, oe kanade, komano tsutomu, nishida yusei, hanano sumire summary: for Rika Mashima, meals with Chihaya-neesan is always something to look forward to. notes: zero spoilers (aka everything’s headcanon, compliant with the mizusawa series)

Their first meal together is a memory she only remembers from a photograph.

She’s been staring at said photograph for a while now, initial objective in leafing through the old family photo album promptly abandoned. Accomplishing the assignment for character development class could wait; this surprise has to be dealt with first. ASAP.

Because no matter which angle she looks at it, the picture still appears like it’s taken from an alternate universe.

Admittedly, the notion sounds over-the-top for a simple snapshot of a supposedly normal lunch in the Mashima household from five years ago. Especially with their dining area remaining unchanged, pieces of chinaware retaining their meticulously-curated pattern on the cupboards. She and Taichi-niisan sitting on the same ends of the table. Truly, everything is familiar, except for one thing: Chihaya-neesan had been occupying the spot next to her older brother.

It’s not that Chihaya-neesan is a stranger to Rika that the discovery of her dining with them before is something wholly unexpected. Quite the opposite, actually―Rika adores Oniisan's then-best friend. Cheerful and always in the mood for playing whatever game Rika requests (much unlike her annoying Oniisan), Chihaya-neesan brightens his bedroom whenever she’s around.

That’s where the surprise comes from, though. In her memories, Rika has only ever seen Chihaya-neesan in that room―and for a reason both the Mashima siblings fully understand. Okasan can be intimidating. It figures that Chihaya-neesan would only breathe well once she’s well out of range of their mom’s trademark laser glare.

But this photo is solid proof that there had been a day―or were they days? ―when Okasan wasn’t Mrs. Pressure in Chihaya-neesan’s eyes. The wide-toothed smile of hers, perfectly matching Oniisan’s, reflects that well enough.

It’s also evidence that there had been a day―at least―when Chihaya-neesan wasn’t on the receiving end of her mother’s barely concealed disapproval. The corresponding serene smile on Okasan’s face in the photograph says it, too.

After snapping a picture of it, she excitedly heads upstairs to Oniisan’s room. Look, Taichi-niisan, she intends to say. Let’s have fun with Chihaya-neesan again. Don’t you miss her, too?

The doorknob is turned halfway when an unfamiliar voice from the inside cuts her motion short. “Ta-kun, when are you going to invite me to your house? It’s what normal boyfriends do, you know.”

Rika’s mind turns up blank fast enough for her to miss Taichi-niisan’s reply, before filling up with a sick sense of dread at the mental image that appears afterwards.

It’s the same one as the photograph she’s been holding minutes before, only that instead of Chihaya-neesan, it’s an unknown girl who’s smiling beside her brother.

Rika’s not in the least surprised in finding out how she doesn’t like the image. At all.

ii.

You’ll be paying for this, Taichi-niisan’s glare tells her. You’ll be thanking me for this, Rika’s playful ones reply.

The doorbell rings, and in a flash, Oniisan’s expression switches from embarrassed annoyance into embarrassed anxiety. Her mischievous expression slips, too―she’s not that sadistic, after all. Of course she’s also feeling nervous about this. But nervousness is expected, nervousness is normal, when she’s about to meet the girl who says she loves her older brother...on livestream internet. For anyone to hear, including her classmate’s sister who happens to attend Mizusawa High School.

And really, if Rika Mashima hadn’t taken it upon herself to share this information to her Dad, who a) loves a good love story and b) loves his son so much that every milestone of Oniisan is treasured by him, then wouldn’t that just be sad? And totally not fun at all?

“Ara, ara...Who could that be? Taichi, would you please answer the door?” Otosan’s eyes are already gleaming with childlike mirth. Oniisan, cheeks turning more and more crimson by the second, rushes to the doorway.

Yep, this is going to be fun.

From the kitchen Rika hears her Okasan’s chiding. “Oligo, would you please give our son a break before he and Chihaya-san skips this lunch altogether?” The plates she’s carrying make an unusual clinking sound as they meet the glass table. Huh. Even Okasan is tense about this whole ordeal.

Chihaya-neesan finally arrives, sheepish as she was confident during the Queen Matches a week ago. She stutters a greeting. “Ko-konnichiwa, M-Mashima Oligo-s-san. Mashima Re-Reiko-san. R-Rika-chan.”

Otosan sends her a warm smile, once again making Rika feel thankful that her Dad’s one of the kindest Dads in the world. “Hisashiburi, Chihaya-chan! Congratulations on your victory! But before all that―come, Reiko has prepared for us a wonderful lunch.”

Lunch is indeed wonderful, going above and beyond Okasan’s insane standards by all means. From the seat across hers, Taichi-niisan is no longer giving her threatening glares, his own metaphorical plate full with awkwardness and concern for Chihaya-neesan who looks just as helpless herself. She keeps on avoiding Okasan’s line of sight and cutting up steak without ever putting it in her mouth. Rika snickers. Chihaya-neesan hasn’t changed a bit.

Heart warm at the thought, she decides to play the adorable little sister role and throws them a lifeline.

“Chihaya-neesan, Akane-chan―my schoolmate―has a sister who also goes to Mizusawa. She says you and Oniisan are really awesome , creating a karuta club and winning tournaments immediately after! I think so, too. They’re awesome, ne, Otosan, Okasan?”

Rising to the bait, words of praise immediately follow, much to her brother and Chihaya-neesan’s continuing shyness. But somewhere in between Otosan inquires about the process that went into the club’s making, and Chihaya-neesan begins to respond more confidently, with the subject of the conversation not being her but her friends. Taichi-niisan pitches in bits of information, too, and Okasan listens with a surprising, but definitely not unwelcome, level of rapt attention.

Soon enough, they find themselves laughing at the quirky tales of Mizusawa Karuta Club (Rika’s personal favorite was the one where they went head-to-head with Chiba International School, whom they first thought were foreigners, only for Taichi-niisan to reveal that they were Japanese people who hadn’t ever been overseas…).

Amidst all the merriment, Rika finally notices something.

Chihaya-neesan is giving Taichi-niisan an inexplicably fond look whenever his own eyes aren’t meeting hers; that is, when he laughs. Rika realizes that she hasn’t heard Oniisan laugh like this for a long, long time, and, judging by that loving twinkle in Chihaya-neesan’s eyes, she feels the same and is just as grateful for Taichi-niisan’s new found happiness as Rika is.

Maybe it’s due to that look that neither Otosan nor Okasan brought up Chihaya-neesan’s post Queen Matches speech, or asked them about the status of their relationship and its implications on their future.

She’s got a feeling that those questions hold no importance anymore.

iii.

Sure, she might’ve an older brother who’s basically the stuff of shoujo mangas, but there are days when Rika wonders if she could trade him for a sister.

After all, an older brother won’t rush to your school after dismissal, begging you for a trip to the mall. (“It’s an emergency, Rika-chan! Help me!”) An older brother wouldn’t ask you about what a boyfriend would want for a first year anniversary. (To which Rika would answer, “Definitely not another set of karuta cards.”) He’s the last person you would rather be talking to about high school girl problems over coffee and cake at Starbucks. (“It’s so easy for you, Onee-chan. You’ve liked each other from the start.” “Easy?! You call all that easy?!”)

But as Rika parts ways with Chihaya-oneechan after a hectic but enjoyable day and goes home where Taichi-oniisan greets her (“I heard you went shopping with Chihaya. Did you have fun?”), she’s finally made up her mind.

It’s useless to think about trading his brother anymore. Not when she already has both.

iv.

Taichi-neesan hasn’t popped the question yet, but Komano-san―nee Kanade Oe-san―is already crying.

Waiting in a classroom like the rest of them, Nishida-san remarks, “Kana, you’re supposed to cry after Chihaya. After!”

“Well, I apologize if my tears cannot bear to wait a moment longer after having done so for fifteen years. ” Komano-san wipes her tears with a handkerchief her husband passes to her. Behind his eyeglasses, his eyes are moist, too. “I think three years in high school is already a long time. But Mashima just had to add med school years on top of that.”

Hanano-san, already wearing a gleaming engagement ring of her own, is also on the verge of breakdown when finally, her phone rings. “T-that’s our cue, guys!”

Rika, with emotions equally unstable as her brother’s lifelong karuta friends, grips at the box of cake she and Okasan have spent all night baking to perfection. Altogether they head out of their hiding spot and towards the Mizusawa Club Room, where Oniisan has just finished asking Oneechan a question that is, indeed, fifteen years in the waiting.

As soon as they enter the room, Rika is treated with a sight that surpasses every joyful moment she’s ever encountered thus far. Chihaya-neechan, in her classic karuta get-up, surrounded by the cards she’s spent most of her life loving, crying openly on the crook of Taichi-niisan’s shoulder. Oniisan, one arm placed lovingly around Oneechan’s waist, welcomes them inside with the brightest smile she’s ever seen him wear.

Needless to say, Rika’s exhausted the limits of her handkerchief after that.

Later on, when everybody’s calmed down a bit and Oneechan is finally convinced by Komano-san that, yes, this is not a dream, Chihaya-chan, Rika hands her a slice of the gift she’s brought.

And finally, finally, gets to say the words she’s been longing to say:

“Oneechan, let’s eat!”

#taichihaya #mashima taichi #ayase chihaya #mashima rika #rika being the mischievous and adorable little sister hahaha #come talk taichihaya with me!

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,163

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali

CHAPTER 36: SAVE ME

“I want to breathe, I hate this night. I want to wake up, I hate this dream.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

When she saw Min Yoongi being wheeled into the hospital’s emergency room, Raelyn pulled herself away from her assigned task almost immediately. Her heart hammered heavily against her chest and her forehead broke out into a cold sweat. She couldn’t hear the people calling her name and she blindly began digging through her pockets for her cell phone.

Did any of the others know what was happening?

Because she wasn’t his assigned nurse, there was no way for her to be directly involved in his treatment. Half an hour later, she was handed a coffee by one of her co-workers as they attempted to quell her concerns. They didn’t know what her connection with the patient was, but Raelyn knew not to open her mouth. The less they knew, the better. Everyone was better off that way.

Raelyn wanted to call Hoseok on instinct. She stopped herself, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat. Instead, she called Taehyung. He did his best to get her nerves to settle, telling her that it would take an act of some deity to pull Min Yoongi into his grave. He was just that stubborn. This got her to laugh a little and she sighed, feeling a little better than she had a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately, Taehyung was in Osan and wouldn’t be back in Seoul until later that afternoon. However, he did promise that he’d get one of the guys over to the hospital when Yoongi was cleared for discharge.

Her friend and fellow nurse, Seyeong, approached her just as she hung up with Taehyung. “Raelyn-ssi,” she called softly as Raelyn slipped her phone into her pocket, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, though she didn’t feel it, “how is he doing?”

“It was fatigue mixed with an anxiety attack.” Raelyn’s brows furrowed as Seyeong continued. “He experienced some shock, but he’s stabilized and resting.”

“That’s good.”

It was the only thing that Raelyn could say without falling apart herself. She nodded her head at the appropriate moments when Seyeong explained his condition, but the woman wasn’t really listening. There were too many other things filling her head. Mostly questions that she knew she wouldn’t be getting the answers to anytime soon.

Why the hell does this keep happening?

Once she was left alone, Raelyn unconsciously bit her thumbnail as her eyes narrowed. This was crazy. Anyone would think this was crazy. Who would go out of their way to bring someone back into the fold when it was obvious that they were competition? Wasn’t it normal to want to wipe out any obstacles that would potentially stand in a person’s way, no matter what avenue it was in reference to?

While a more twisted and jaded side of Raelyn could understand the thrill of wanting to taunt and torment an opponent, this seemed just shy of overkill. Yoongi was in the hospital because something shook him to the point of falling out. That or he was stressed and doing a terrible job of burying it down inside of himself. She hadn’t wanted to bother him with twenty questions, allowing him time to relax and to put whatever disturbed him out of his mind if even for a moment.

She toyed with the idea of calling Eden, but after the altercation she had with Yoongi at the hospital last time, she decided against it. The two of them would just wind up arguing about why he was in the hospital in the first place. Both of them would stroke out before either of them was able to get a word in edgewise.

Sighing, Raelyn angrily began scratching at the back of her head. No. This wasn’t going to work. She had to get the answers straight from Yoongi himself. Taehyung was sweet, but he always tried to cover things up as best he could. Mostly because he knew how much their old life stressed Raelyn out. They were supposed to be finished with that life and things continued to seemingly spiral out of control.

Making her way toward Yoongi’s room, she looked over his chart to see what medication they were giving him. It was a mild sedative, enough to get him to relax and maybe help him sleep. Who knew how long he’d been doing things without sleeping at this rate? Once she was able to ascertain that it was the proper dosage, she quietly slipped inside.

It took her a minute for her sight to adjust to the low light of the room provided by a small lamp. The ECG monitor beeped steadily, his heart rate normal and showing that he was, indeed, resting. Raelyn closed the door quietly behind her, the latch catching with a soft click. There was a humidifier by his bedside and his attendants seemed to have adjusted his bed so that he was sitting up as he slept.

She sighed again. Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

As someone in the medical field, the last thing she wanted to do was pull someone out of the comfort of sleep.

Raelyn turned slowly, intent on leaving the room, when she heard movement behind her. Her hand froze, hovering just above the doorknob.

“Raelyn-ah,” he heard Yoongi grunt. She turned around to see him sitting up full, the blankets shifting around in his lap as he did so.

She turned back around to face him. “Did I wake you?”

“Who can sleep when you exist so loudly?”

Raelyn frowned, unsure of what to make of that statement. Yoongi’s wistful smirk, however, showed that he was merely teasing. She crossed the room, plopping down into a nearby chair as he pressed a hand to his forehead. She noticed the look of disapproval on his face at the IV attached to his arm. When Yoongi attempted to remove it, Raelyn smacked his wrist on reflex.

“Don’t even think about pulling that out until you’ve been discharged,” she snapped, giving him a warning glare which he huffed at.

The two of them sat in silence – both probably processing the moment shared between them. It wasn’t often that Raelyn spent time with Yoongi alone. When Hoseok and she were still together, she interacted with all the other boys – lower and upper tiered alike. But rarely was she allotted alone time with any member as an individual. In fact, she felt she’d gotten to know them better when she was no longer the boss’s girl. The title came with its privileges, sure, but that also meant she was placed on a glass pedestal that she felt would shatter at any given moment.

Truth be told, she always felt Yoongi disliked her; for reasons completely all his own. On the flip side, she never really tried to bridge the gap between them either. Yoongi kept to himself, busy moving in and out of the thick of things alongside Jungkook. He never once hinted that he knew any of Raelyn’s friends, let alone that he was even dating Eden back then. Then again, she’d kept her own connection to the Golden Jackals a secret herself.

Now that everything was out in the open, Raelyn wondered where the time had gone.

“Yoongi-ah,” she murmured while looking at him. He raised a brow, silencing urging her to continue. “What happened?”

For a long while, all Yoongi did was stare at her; as if he was mentally cracking the cogs in his head to determine how to best answer the question. He blinked a few times, brushing his hair out of his eyes before folding his arms across his chest.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself over,” he answered simply, causing the muscle near Raelyn’s jaw to pulse angrily.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, Min Yoongi?” Raelyn’s voice went up an octave as she rose from her chair. He followed her with his eyes. “You are now the third person connected to me in some way to wind up in the fuckin’ hospital! Why should I not be concerned about this?”

Yoongi frowned. “Because there isn’t a single thing you can do about it.” The directness of the statement was like a punch to her gut, causing her to take a step back. His expression was icy and so was his tone. “Telling you what happened won’t change anything, so why bother?”

Raelyn felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach and she fell into the chair, semi-defeated. Why was he the second person to seemingly knock the wind out of her sails? What was so damn heavy that they felt the need to try and chase her off like none of this mattered? Raelyn clenched her jaw, furious at being dismissed in such a way.

“Listen up,” she said, her ire bubbling near the surface, “there is only so much that you guys can do to keep us in the dark. We’re going to find out eventually.”

He scoffed as he cut his eyes at her. “You find out and then what? Huh?” Raelyn blinked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’re either going to get caught up in this nonsense until it settles, or you’ll turn tail and run. Those are pretty much your only options.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but found she couldn’t find the right words to throw back at him. Didn’t she have a rebuttal for this? She normally did. In this instance, however, Yoongi seemed to knock the fight right out of her.

“So, I guess the only real question you should be asking yourself now,” he broached, causing her to meet his gaze, “is how long do you plan on sticking around this time?”

Even though Yoongi was a few feet away from her, when he leaned forward, Raelyn instinctively leaned back in her chair.

“Because I can tell you right now that things aren’t going to be pretty. Not for a while.”

Raelyn’s vision began to swim momentarily. It was like she was hearing Jimin’s words all over again. They held a different tone, but the implication was still there. Each of them were telling her to make a choice. Even Taehyung had asked her to believe in her, to have faith that she wouldn’t be left alone. She wanted to believe him. There wasn’t a reason for her not to. They’d proven time and again that they were steadfast and willing to walk the hard road together – side by side.

So why was she so afraid to walk with them?

“I don’t know what’s going to happen from today on,” he said, cutting through her thoughts, “and I don’t want to think about it. I tried to keep Eden as far away from this nonsense as possible and she still managed to stumble her way into this shit.”

Relieved that the pressure was off her, even for a moment, allowed Raelyn the chance to regain her voice. “That is her choice, Yoongi-ah. You tried to take it from her once already. She’s a grown ass woman and can make her own decisions.”

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to stare at his phone on the nightstand by the bed. It vibrated relentlessly as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen. Neither of them made a move to answer it.

“Yeah, well,” he finally said after the phone stopped buzzing, “she’s made that clear enough. I don’t need you to remind me of that.”

Raelyn narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t let your own regrets get in the way of other people’s progress.”

There was a flash of anger that danced over Yoongi’s gaze as his eye-line met hers. She didn’t waver, despite how scary he appeared at that moment.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not stupid and I’m not blind,” she said, pushing her glasses up along the bridge of her nose. Raelyn’s arms folded across her chest slowly. “You may have messed things up with her, but that doesn’t mean Jungkook will.”

“Raelyn…” Yoongi growled out her name in warning but she didn’t heed it.

“Their relationship has nothing to do with you.”

“Jungkook is my brother!” he bellowed, causing her shoulders to tense up slightly.

She took a breath. “Stop using him as an excuse.”

Raelyn knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but this was something she’d been wanting to say to Yoongi for a while. Ever since she found out that he was the Yoongi who’d broken her best friend’s heart.

“Eden is choosing to stay by Jungkook’s side. After everything that’s happened, she’s making the choice for herself. Something you never took the chance on.”

Rising from the chair, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes following her. “And you’re right about one thing, Yoongi-ah.” Taking a moment to look over his monitors, she let her gaze linger on his for a moment longer before making her way toward the door. “It’s time I made a choice of my own.”

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

Dragon Dancer III: Justice

I opened my eyes to a dimly lit space. I was hooked to an IV.

As soon as I turned my head, I saw Chisei in a white shirt and black pants. In front of him was a table of munitions. The man looked rough, a hollow of his former vibrant and frightening self.

He looked at me briefly. “You’re awake. Good. You’ve already started to heal. I need to return you to your teammates.”

Return me? I sat up, wincing against the bandages under my shirt. My ruined dress was gone, replaced by a thin white top and a bright red hakama. “Where am I?”

“We’re back at the shrine. It’s far from Tokyo and the only safe place now.”

I watched him as he pulled a gun holster around his waist.

“Chime?”

“Resting. I’ll be sending him and Erii away, out of Japan. It’s the only way to be safe.”

“I wanted to tell you, the King controls Chime with a woodblock...”

“He told me...” He glanced at me and slipped throwing knives into the sides of the holster.

“You’re still going back to the city?”

He paused, eyes narrowing, full of hatred. “You think I would leave after hearing something like that? I’m not leaving until the King is dead.”

I gripped the blanket covering me. “My wish is for you to get out of here alive. You wanted to be free from Hydra, right?”

“You had the chance to leave as well didn’t you? You didn’t take it.” He replied.

“How do you know that?”

“I heard you and the owner of the Takamagahara talking.” He tossed his trench coat over his shoulders and smiled at my open mouthed shock.

“You were there!”

“I was there for a while. And I am free from Hydra. Turns out that the King had planned for this. I’m not sure how he got the location of the White King. But he attacked as soon as she started her rampage. Immediately after the tsunami, he had forces in place to take us down in the chaos.”

He pulled black gloves over his hands. “Minamoto Heavy Industries was taken. Kaguya is gone. Yasha is dead. We lost Fuma in the escape... Hydra is completely defenseless. I thought we had won the war. Turns out the Devil Clan never cared about their own deaths or loss of territory. They had their ace in the hole... all our efforts were useless.”

He stopped. “Had I known I never would have....”

“But you didn’t know.” I said, raising my voice. “None of us did! This is all complete... insanity. The only person who had any clue about what was about to happen was Lu Mingfei! And I need to tell you something! Listen!”

He finally turned to me.

“I believe Lu Mingfei has been having prophetic visions. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But he told me he’s been dreaming about something terrible happening to Erii. He said first with water... and now with fire. Did he say anything about that?”

From the way his eyes shifted he seemed to be recalling something. He answered. “When he was with me, he did have frequent nightmares. About the sea and an unseen enemy. He said it was a dream of the future.”

“Now he dreams of fire.” I whimpered. “And Erii...”

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll get her out... Immediately.” He walked to me tucking under my arm to lift me up and carry me out to the waiting helicopter. It was still dark outside.

“Where are we going?”

“Anjou put out a call for you all to meet him at the Tokyo Meteorological Institute.”

“And what will you do? Are you going to come fight with us?”

“Heh. Unlikely. Anjou probably has his own ideas. For all I know he’s here to get you out.”

“No! I won’t leave here-”

He gave me a sympathetic look. “He’s already taken over Tokyo at this point. You don’t have a say in anything any more.”

My heart sank even as helicopter lifted. He was right. As we soared over the landscape, we stayed silent. I realized that he was saying goodbye. It was unlikely that we would see each other again, at least, not in a dragon slaying capacity.

“Keep in touch. Please? Don’t delete my number.”

“Why?”

“There’s so few people who are like me. Even surrounded by other hybrids, I feel lonely. And Mingfei will worry about Erii.”

He didn’t answer. I got the feeling he wanted to leave everything behind and that I was part of a past he no longer wanted.

Tokyo was a city becoming a ghost town. Lines of cars were backed up and people were abandoning them and walking with whatever they could carry. I felt a deep sense of failure. I was supposed to prevent this. I was sent here to stop this very thing.

I leaned my head against back of the seat, too miserable to even cry about it.

We landed. Chisei got out with me. I found I was already able to walk on my own, though it was still very painful to do much else. We went slowly to the elevator which we took down to a hall that led to a large conference room.

As soon as the door opened, I saw Anjou with Johann and Nono. They were sitting around a table discussing something. Turned out I was late to the meeting.

A man I didn’t know was saying. “I will contact the chief executive now, but he was out of contact and being evacuated. I'm not sure of his status.”

“I only need the coordinates!” Anjou was saying. “As long as he’s still alive let him talk to me. That arrogant bastard has already messed things up. That’s the least he should be able to do to help!”

I scowled. “Hey!”

They all turned to me. Johann stood up, eyes wide. “Meixiu!”

Chisei chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. “I am indeed and arrogant bastard who made a mess of things.”

Johann approached and I easily swapped Chisei’s arms for his. His hug hurt and I grunted in pain.

“You’re injured!”

“Is just a flesh wound!” I tried to joke, but the pain in my eyes said otherwise.

“Water storage well number 13, Design code Red Well, in the mountains near the Tama River. Here are the coordinates.” He handed the seething Anjou a piece of note paper.

“Principal. I’m sorry, I tried I really tried...” I pulled away from Johann.

“I will not accept any apologies from you young lady.” Anjou’s cold eyes brooked no argument. “Your mission was very simple and became... very complicated!”

I’d never seen Anjou so furious, gazing at Chisei who took it with numb indifference. But the man had lost everything and I couldn’t stand that Anjou was going to take his anger out on him.

“I won’t testify against him! He was only doing what he thought was right!”

Anjou cut me off. “You’ll be permitted to stay in this room so long as you don’t say another word.”

Johann’s hand squeezed my shoulders. “Easy...” He whispered, guiding me to a chair.

Anjou handed the note to a man behind him. “Johann, Nono, let me talk to these two alone.”

Johann left me and walked out. Nono glanced at me but looked away before I could read her expression. The door shut.

For a while, no one said anything while Anjou gathered his thoughts.

“When I came to Japan,” He began. “...you were one of the few people I wanted to meet. But you kept refusing to meet me. This is the first time I’ve traveled abroad to meet a former student and have been repeatedly rejected. You even received my scholarship, only to waste it.”

“It is my pride as a student to be able to get the principal's scholarship... it is my prerogative as a patriarch to refuse to meet you.” Chisei said quietly. “Unfortunately, I am not a good student and I have not learned the most important things from you.”

Chisei then looked at me. “I am not a competent patriarch. Those people who believed that I was the coming Amaterasu died for me. and I failed to give them a brand new future... and now my clan is at its end.”

I didn’t want to hear that from him. But I wasn’t allowed to talk any more, so I avoided his eyes and silently brooded.

“And after so many years, you’re still being pursued by your past, Chisei.”

“You mean Chime? Someone told you?”

“You told me.”

I looked up at Chisei.

“You forgot? You told me years ago, back when you were at Cassell. We were drinking together when you told me this story... only you talked about it like it had happened to someone else. At that time you were asking about the cost of justice.”

“I... have forgotten. I thought I would never tell anyone that story.”

He told me. Perhaps I’d grown closer to him than even he realized.

“Then you forgot what I told you about justice?”

Chisei looked a little sheepish. “Can you... please tell me again?”

The atmosphere had relaxed quite a bit. My ears perked up.

“You remember Benedict’s book?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“He talked about an ultimate justice. That so long as this person obeys this justice, then the world will never reject him. Because it’s above the individual.”

He pulled out a cigar as this was a very long lecture for him. He lit it, letting the smoke curl over both sides of his face.

“However, there is no justice that can exceed the individual. For some people, revenge is justice. For others, protection is justice. If your brother’s happiness is he most important thing in your heart, then you should be willing to take on the entire world for him. You think you paid the price for ‘justice’.”

He turned to look at Chisei. “But the justice you obey is not what you really want. The Justice you obey is taught to you by others. It is not your individual justice. So now, even though you did what you thought was right, you’re tormented by your conscience!”

Chisei glanced away, looking all the world like a scolded child. “For you... revenge is justice, principal!”

“It is! Haha!” He laughed. “My life has been summer and it has been winter. When I met my friends I was lonely and poor in life. But they turned it into summer. I belonged. I had true friends. And then... the dragons took that all away. The remainder of my life is growing shorter. There no one else like me in the world. No one shares my experiences, my memories. I am truly utterly alone. My revenge is all I have left. So... it is my justice.”

He took a long drag on his cigar and I lowered my head. I’d never thought of the Principal as a lonely person but who else had lived as long as he did?

“But,” He’s voice brightened. “...it is not the only justice. Let’s take our genius, Carli here for just a moment.”

I gave him a deer in the headlights look.

“Chisei, you and your organization have left her life an absolute misery! You destroyed everyone she loved. And you pursued her with the intention of killing her. And yet. I say one word against you and she leaps to your defense! Do you know why?”

Chisei shifted, uncomfortable. “I...”

Anjou’s expression changed to one of bewilderment as he gestured to me. “It’s because she has no concept of hatred! It’s not in her nature, not even a little bit!”

I looked at Chisei who avoided my eyes.

“She’s the only one I’ve ever met like this. At least, to this extraordinary degree.” He puffed his cigar. “Now... some would look down on this. After reading the reports, it was clear that she was slow to act to escape from the Takamagahara. She took unnecessary risks in attempting to align with the people pursuing to kill her. Things could have easily gone another way.”

“It took another man’s hatred to finally move things forward. These are facts. However...” He took another puff.

“It’s also a fact, that had Chu Zihang been leading, your brother would be dead. You probably would be dead as well. The mission would have succeeded on a mountain of death. Had Nono been lead, likely similar circumstances with perhaps a lower body count.”

“Many would say, Carli’s route was much more difficult. Much more fraught with danger. Much more risky. Slow! However, unlike her loved ones, your loved ones are still alive.”

Chisei didn’t look at me.

“Carli?”

“Yes... sir?” I asked hesitating.

“Do you regret anything you’ve done here in Japan?” He looked directly into my eyes with a laser like intensity.

“Um...” My eyes shifted a bit, thinking. After that moment’s consideration, I answered. “No sir.”

He turned to Chisei. “Do you see the difference?”

A memory popped into my head, Johann Chu at my bedside. My voice saying: Don’t tell me what to do!

I lowered my eyes again, examining the grain of the wood on the table, chewing my lip.

Chisei took a deep breath and let it out. “After this many years, it’s great to listen to your lectures again.” He said.

With that Anjou ended his lecture. “From this moment on, the control has been transferred to Cassell College. You have a good rest. I hope we can all see the sun rise tomorrow.”

“You’re using the space based kinetic weapon on the White King?”

“I no longer need to discuss the White King with you, Chisei. I know you wanted to stop it on your own, but you failed.’

I looked back up again.

Anjou gave me a hard glare, that was dampened by a smile that appeared after it. I was still not allowed to talk.

Chisei took the rejection in stride. He got up, slowly bowed to Anjou and left through the long corridor. I stood up and pursued him. “Chisei!”

He paused.

“Please... be safe.”

He turned away, walking back to the helicopter.

I turned away to find Johann who had been waiting on the other side of the hall. I threw my arms around him.

“Are you alright?”

“Neither of us will face consequences.” I looked up at him. His expression was blank but his eyes were kind. I was happy to see him. I stretched up to kiss him and then flinched. “Ow.”

“The lounge is right over there. Go sit down. I’ll get you something for the pain.”

#Chisei Gen #Anjou #Johann Chu #Nono #JUSTICE #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing

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seanfalco · 4 years

Text

Road Trip: Punk!AU

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Punk!Valdo x Punk!Aevryn (oc), Punk!Geralt x Punk! Yennefer, Punk!Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 2963 Rating: T Taglist: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats, @nevadawolfe, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @coffee-and-stories a/n: This installment is really oc heavy sorryyyy. Also I’m really terrible at writing lyrics, so please forgive my shitty attempt lol. The next part will be supplied by @ficsandcatsandficsandcats :3

{Part I}{Part II}{Part III}{Part IV}

Part V - If You Need Anyone

Chicago had been fun.

After her talk with Win, Aevryn felt like a weight had been lifted from her lungs. She still wasn’t talking with Yennefer, which stung, and Valdo’s request for her to listen to his new album hung over her head, twisting her stomach anxiously, but at least one thing was okay.

I release you.

She’d finished out the rest of the city with a genuine smile on her face, glad that Jaskier had begged for them to stop and have some fun, forgetting her worries for at least a few hours.

Back in Roach Aev sat in the backseat as the others piled in for the night, exhausted, putting her earbuds in as Win’s comforting presence settled next to her. Leaning against the darkened van window she watched the dark lake shore fly by with the blur of headlights, the city skyline shrinking in the distance, an empty ache settling in her chest. Valdo’s album was set to drop soon and she didn’t know if she was ready.

True she’d put on one of his songs the other morning as she’d drove, just to hear his voice, but it had been one she’d heard many times before. This new album was uncharted territory and she worried it might dredge up more emotions she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face yet; there was still so much to unpack there, things long buried.

Unlocking her phone she opened up her twitter messages, reading them over again when a new message alert popped up.

@valdomarxofficial: Hey, happy birthday, beautiful. Am I the first to wish you that? I hope so.

Shit, she swore, eyes flicking up to the top bar of her phone that displayed the time, to see that it was indeed a couple minutes after midnight, July 31st. Her birthday.

Groaning at the thought of what embarrassing things her bandmates’ were going to attempt to do to celebrate, a slight giddiness filled her chest that Valdo had been the first to remember.

@aeverona: You are, actually. I’m impressed you remembered.

@valdomarxofficial: You wound me, love. How could I forget something so important? Are you doing anything special to celebrate?

Shaking her head fondly, Aevryn scooted down further in her seat, chewing her lip, fighting back a smile as her fingers flew over the onscreen keyboard.

@aeverona: you prick, there are a lot of important things you’ve forgotten over the years... but i’m glad you messaged me. No, we’re just driving right now, everyone’s asleep.

@valdomarxofficial: a shame, you should be the center of attention at a decadent party thrown in your honour. Perhaps i’ll have to rectify that. Well, if you have nothing better to do, consider this your birthday gift from me. x

Attached was a download link from his bandcamp and Aev sighed at the sight. He really wanted her to listen, didn’t he?

@aeverona: a bit self absorbed, are we? lol okay, i give in i’ll listen to it

Taking a deep breath she clicked the link to the download. While she waited she turned back to the window, pressing her cheek to the cool glass. She could hear Yennefer’s voice in her head, as if her friend could read her thoughts even now. Don’t. How many times are you going to let him hurt you?

She closed her eyes.

—

Yennefer pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she shifted in the passenger seat, trying to find a comfortable spot while avoiding glancing at Geralt behind the wheel. The soft music he had turned on had effectively lulled the rest of the van to sleep, but her thoughts swirled, keeping her awake.

She could sense Geralt’s eyes flicking to her every so often and sighed, sitting up in the seat, unable to will herself to sleep anyway. Her change in posture signified that she wanted to talk, but an awkward silence fell over them while Geralt merely waited.

“So… what did you and Jaskier do today when we split up?” she asked without looking at him.

Geralt glanced at her, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips for a moment.

“We climbed a rock wall.”

Yennefer jerked in surprise, her dark eyes peering back at Jaskier, snoring softly. “But he hates heights.”

“I know,” Geralt replied with a soft snort, wanting to say more, though the words died on his tongue. Silence fell once more.

Several miles passed.

“What about you and [Y/N]?”

Yennefer shrugged. “We rode the carousel and talked.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.” Yennefer answered simply. “I got to ride a dragon.”

Geralt snorted in amusement. “Very you.”

Yen’s answering laugh lifted his spirits, buoying him even as silence fell once more. At least she was talking to him again.

—

Aevryn startled awake as the van slowed, turning off the highway into a brightly lit truck stop. Geralt threw Roach into park and got out. The others stirred slightly, but no one woke. Aev looked down at her phone. Fuck, she thought angrily, Valdo’s album list staring her in the face. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. It had only been an hour and a half, but now that she was awake and filled with nervous energy she didn’t think she could just sit there.

Carefully extricating herself from the depths of the van she slipped out the sliding door, following Geralt into the rest stop. The usually stoic drummer gave a start when he turned from the cooler, drink in hand, to find her standing right behind him.

“Jesus Aev,” he growled, frowning, stepping around her to go pay.

“Can I drive for a bit, Gery?” Aevryn asked, quickly grabbing another Red Bull from the cooler before jogging to catch up to him, flashing him a smarmy smile as he grabbed a box of Little Debbie snack cakes.

“Don’t call me that,” Geralt grunted, setting his purchases on the counter. After a moment he grabbed the giant can out of her hand to set with his stuff before handing the cashier a worn twenty.

“Please?” Aevryn asked. “If I don’t keep my hands busy I’ll go crazy. And I need to keep my mind off some… stuff.”

“Hmm.”

The cashier handed him his change and Geralt handed Aev her drink.

“You’re not tired?” he asked, giving her a pointed look, his light hazel eyes studying her sharply, knowingly.

“No.”

“Hmm.” After a moment Geralt nodded and shoved the box of cakes at her. “Here. This is for you.”

Aevryn ducked her head to hide her grin as she followed Geralt back to the van, noticing the cakes were mini birthday cakes.

Taking the driver’s seat Aevryn buckled in and stuck her headphones in her ears, not wanting to face a repeat of the other morning as she listened to Valdo’s new music. If Jaskier happened to wake up and heard it he would flip his shit, and on top of everything else going on, that was the last thing Aev wanted to deal with. She still didn’t know how she was going to break it to him that she was on speaking terms with her ex again, amongst other things.

Taking a swig of her energy drink and stuffing one of the snack cakes in her mouth she turned on the first song as she pulled back onto the highway.

This album is a letter, one I should have written long ago.

Valdo’s low voice in her ear sent an involuntary shiver down her spine and her breath caught at his words, fending off the intrusive thought that he was speaking directly to her before the guitar swelled, leading into the next song and Aev nearly barked a surprised laugh at the opening notes -- a cover of one of her favourite songs.

Not usually one to care for covers, she couldn’t help but admit that it was good; Valdo’s voice filling each familiar lyric with new meaning, and again it felt as though he were singing for her and her alone, a private performance that the masses might peer into, but never truly understand. The next song was an original one, but again with an easter egg she felt was strangely meant for her to uncover. Valdo’s haunting vocals were joined by another voice, barking and raspy, and instantly recognizable to Aevryn.

That fucking bastard, she thought, shaking her head in disbelief, though a smile stole across her face like a thief. He’d just had to go and collaborate with her favourite musician -- one so obscure that not even Jaskier knew she listened to. Now he was just showing off.

As she continued to listen, each song had something jump out at her, some lyric that tickled her memory or a reference to some in-joke shared between the two of them as teens, and it was becoming more and more difficult to believe that these were just coincidences. Looking down at her phone she realized she was already on the final song and that’s when it happened.

The opening notes were accompanied by a lonely piano chord and the instant mood change gripped her, holding her hostage as she listened raptly, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. Valdo’s voice trembled with emotion, weaving poetry that would certainly steal anyone’s breath away -- personal and raw, but the words hit her like a train, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.

Darling, it was always you, since day one, I knew, I was smitten, I admit, but it was more than that. After all, ‘just friends’ don’t look at each other like that. ‘Just friends’ don’t kiss each other like that.

It nearly took this immature fuckup too long to realize, What you meant when you said I needed you. And by then it was almost too late. How was I to know you’d need me too? I never told you, when you lay in that hospital bed, unsure if you’d ever wake, It nearly killed me, it drove me mad. Not caring what might become of me I went to his house and I went to bat, I lashed out in hate. Please don’t tell me it was all for nothing...

Her throat suddenly dry, Aevryn swallowed as the song continued on.

It was her. It was their life.

Had he really done that, she wondered, her breath shallow as a memory she’d fought hard to bury surfaced hazily. When she’d woke in the hospital after telling him why she’d done it, he was lying in the bed with her, his cut lip and bruised knuckles standing out in stark relief now. She’d never really questioned where they came from before.

“Oh my God,” she whispered; her hand covering her mouth as her lip trembled and a single tear fell.

This song was about her, for her. No, not just this song, she realized -- “this album is a letter…”

As Valdo continued to spin their story, the highs and the heartbreaks, his fuck-ups and regrets -- it broke her anew and soon she was wracked with silent sobs, tears flowing freely down her cheeks til she could barely see the road before her.

Forgive me Aev, I never deserved you in the first place, but I want to be the man that does.

In the passenger seat Yennefer stretched, a soft sound catching her attention and she opened her eyes slowly.

“Aev?” she asked softly, noticing her friend in the driver’s seat. Then she noticed she was crying. “Fuck, Aev! What’s wrong?” Yennefer sat up quickly, reaching out to touch Aevryn’s arm.

“That fucking bastard,” she managed to choke out, crying harder and Yennefer quickly glanced in the back to make sure it hadn’t woken anyone else. Her violet eyes swung back to Aevryn and then noticed the wires going to her ears connected to her phone and she snatched it up, her stomach dropping when she saw what her friend was listening to.

“Aevryn, why?” she demanded, disappointment and anguish thick in her voice. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“He asked me to listen to it,” she sobbed. “It was for me. The whole damned thing!”

“Aev, I think you need to pull over,” Yennefer urged, anxiously eyeing the sign for the next turn off.

Aevryn nodded and did as she was asked, barely able to see through her tears. As soon as Roach was stopped, she jumped out, walking swiftly away, though not as if she knew where to. “Aev!” Yennefer called after her, circling the van to chase after her.

At the slam of the van door Geralt sat up abruptly as the others stirred groggily.

“What was that? Why are we stopped?” Jaskier asked, looking around, the feeling that something wasn’t right gripping him, waking him faster. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Geralt answered, worriedly watching Yennefer take off after Aevryn.

—

“Aevryn!” Yennefer finally caught up to her friend and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Talk to me, please,” she begged. She’d never seen Aev look so lost.

Wiping her jacket sleeve across her damp face, Aevryn sniffled, trying to calm her breaths. “I knew you’d tell me not to listen to it, but… but I did. I couldn’t help it. I had to know why he wanted me to hear it so badly. And I know now. It was for me. It was his apology. The whole fucking thing. He even released it on my fucking birthday.”

Yennefer gaped at her, unsure how to respond. If what she said was true… well, it certainly sounded exactly like something Valdo would do; he was nothing if not that extra.

“Just… just listen to the last song,” Aevryn exclaimed, holding out her phone. Wordlessly Yen took it and put the earbuds in her ears.

It felt like an eternity elapsed as Aev waited, Yennefer’s face an unreadable mask as she listened. When it was done Yennefer took a deep breath and pulled the headphones from her ears.

“I must admit he certainly has gone to lengths to get his point across.”

“I still love him, Yen,” Aevryn said softly.

“I know,” Yennefer replied simply, holding her arms out.

With a soft sob Aev surged forward and Yennefer wrapped her arms around her, letting her cry against her chest, her fingers combing through her friend’s messy hair til she was all cried out.

“I want to make it work,” she said thickly through the remnants of her tears. “I want to give him a second chance.”

“I know,” Yennefer murmured soothingly, her heart twisting with hope and fear for her friend. She knew all she could do now was support her in her decision.

“I’m so sorry Yen,” she exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks once more. “I don’t want us to fight anymore. I want you to look after me.”

“I will always look after you. You know that.” Yen’s voice shook as her arms tightened around Aevryn. That was how Geralt found them and Yennefer raised her eyes meeting his silent gaze as she gave Aev one last squeeze before stepping back.

“I need to call him,” Aevryn murmured absently, glancing over her shoulder to throw an imploring look at Geralt before directing it at Yennefer, who knew what she was asking of them wordlessly.

“Don’t worry about the others,” Yennefer said, smoothing Aevryn’s hair with her hands. “We’ll be waiting at the van.”

With a nod Aev watched Yennefer and Geralt head back and she waited for them to pass out of sight before pulling her phone out. Despite the hour she had a feeling that Valdo was waiting for her call and sure enough the phone only rang once before he answered.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Aev whispered, her voice trembling. “I listened to it.”

“Yeah?” Valdo asked, the hope in his tone unmistakable.

“Yeah. You fucking asshole, you could have warned me,” she exclaimed, though there was no heat in it. “Did you mean it -- everything you said in there? You’re being absolutely serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack, babe.”

“Please don’t joke right now, Valdo.”

“I’m not.” She could hear him breathe, a shaky sound that rattled her own chest. “Can I see you?”

“Yeah. I’d like that,” Aev answered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

—

“Yen, Geralt, what the fuck is going on? Is Aev okay?” Jaskier demanded as his bandmates walked side by side back to Roach. You and Win were both out of the van as well, worry gripping you as Jaskier’s tension bled into you.

“She’s alright,” Yennefer answered as Geralt clapped a hand to Jaskier’s shoulder as he passed.

“But-but what’s going on?” he asked, the helplessness in his voice twisting your heart.

The sigh that left Yennefer’s lungs was heavy with the secrets she couldn’t yet tell him. For it truly wasn’t her place to tell Jaskier, though she also didn’t like keeping him in the dark. Beside Valdo he was Aevryn’s oldest friend.

“She listened to something that made her a little emotional and I didn’t want her to crash the van because she was crying.”

It technically wasn’t a lie.

“What did she--?” Jaskier cut off before finishing his question, his lips twitching into a frown. “Aevryn…” he grumbled, something akin to exasperation creeping into his voice as he closed his eyes.

Just then she walked back to the van, stopping next to Yennefer, looking rather small. “I’m okay now. I’m sorry for worrying everyone,” she said softly, not quite meeting Jaskier’s gaze before climbing back into the van.

“Jask?” you asked, slipping your hand in his as you looked up at him.

He watched his friend, worrying his lip, clear blue eyes cloudy with worry and hurt. “If what I think is happening, I’ll kill him.”

#punk!au #road trip series #punk!jaskier #punk!geralt #punk!yennefer #punk!aevryn #punk!valdo #punk!jaskier x reader #punk!geralt x punk!yennefer #punk!valdo x oc #valdryn

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drmedicsgamesurgery · 4 years

Text

Danganronpa Togami Volume 3 Part 3 (Summary)

Short chapter so short summary today! Thanks for reading!

Thanks to @enoshima-pyon @shockersalvage @jinjojess @hopeymchope for helping out!

CHAPTER 12- Regarding the Metaphorical Replacement for Proximity

“All in all, it’s really whimsical,” said the heir to the Ketouin Conglomerate, Hiroyuki Ketouin, “It’s amazing really, a great record. The world record holder of holding your breath, 22 minutes and 30 seconds, is Goran Colak. [1] I can’t compare to this kind of guy. First of all, I’d need to be in the car under the water..."

I didn’t listen to Hiroyuki’s jokes. I leaned on the back seat of the car and stared out the window, putting the flowing scenery into my vision: the unchanging landscape, only the forest on the horizon. But the railroad tracks have disappeared. Although I really want to know where I am, I’m too tired to use Borges.

"Miss, you look listless."

"Because Byakuya-sama is gone..."

"Cheers for Goran Korak!" Hiroyuki took a Pilsner beer out of the dashboard's storage box. "So has the young master contacted you?"

"No."

"He should have managed to escape."

"If that’s the case, why didn’t he contact me?"

"Maybe he was worried about leaking his location to an outsider like me."

"You are not serious, are you?"

"You don't have to think about what my real identity is."

"The Imposter said something similar. It’s ridiculous, only the right one is the most important."

Since I arrived in the Czech Republic, I have encountered many copies and imposters, over and over. Those people shouted that they were the real deal, but the glittering coats they wore were stripped by others, or they were uncovered, one by one exposing their identity as counterfeit, or they just simply died. Or disappeared. Or killed. I am me, I am a Togami, I have a clear and accurate understanding of this, but on the contrary, everything else seems suspicious. What if this place is actually not the Czech Republic, but a virtual space. I am actually sleeping in bed with VR glasses. Even if it was such a disappointing ending, I would probably not be surprised. Having said that, I don't want to write any lies in the biography of Byakuya-sama... "Journey Under The Midnight Sun", so even if this reality I see is all false, I can't erase this adventure. I want to write down the original reality, and neither hope nor despair can interfere. This description is like warehousing management. Some people may feel uninterested. However, this is the essence of biography. If you add fuel to your story, it is no different from fiction. It is already in a state of completion, and there is no need to add, delete or modify anything.

Hiroyuki takes a sip of beer before saying that Shinobu looks as if she is out of the mud, but just because she is the SHSL Secretary doesn’t mean she is perfect.

"I don't think anyone else can accurately distinguish between true and false like me, though."

"What was your first favorite book?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry so much, just answer. What was your first favorite book?"

“Small Pig.”

Shinobu thinks about the Author, Arnold Lobel, and how the version she had was a translated version of the original english story into japanese. It was something of a bedtime story for her.

Hiroyuki and Shinobu then start to discuss how translations in novels can end up being quite different to what the original work was intending, and that texts should always be read in the language they were produced in for the full effect. [2]

“Of course, there will be some subtle differences in meaning, but the degree of meaning would be very slight, right?”

"Well take for example a voice actor gets changed, someone will quarrel and say: 'It’s totally wrong! This is a fake!' If that happens, then you must read the original book when reading, don’t run from it, don’t be afraid either, you must be brave when facing the original text."

Shinobu wonders about how meaning behind text can be viewed differently by different observers, and how that would affect the outcome of how a work is observed. In this case, a translation of a text could change the meaning of a work to something completely different, and possibly much less profound in nature, without the intricacies of the original text. [2]

Borges then brings up a few quotes (#23232300), from people who are regretting getting into the translation business.

Hiroyuki brings up the story of a man who didn’t want to translate a prolific buddhist work into japanese, because the meaning wouldn’t be the same. Because you don’t know what the original story is, you would have no idea what changes would have been made by the translator to suit the language. Or alternately what parts of the story have been altered or fabricated.

He talks about how people who write in Sanskrit or Czech would never know the true story of “The Tale Of Genji” [3] because in truth, the versions translated into those languages was merely an abridged version of the story. A summary, if you will. This “light novel” version is inferior to the original product by its very nature in not being the original work itself.

Comparing modern language translation with light novel adaptation, I can’t help but admire this arrogant opinion. Indeed, this isn’t just as simple as moving a tray of food from plate to plate, but because of the different personalities and intentions of the writers and translators... or making bold explanations or making large-scale changes... There will be considerable changes in the content, which is quite different from what I have pursued in my biography. The biography I want to write is a true transcript. I only transfer the real things to the transcripts on paper. Even the consciousness of myself, the author, should be excluded. This is a perfect copy, which is what I wish to pursue. Due to the existence of the author, modern language translation and light novel adaptation will change the content. The shamelessness of this behavior is comparable to the dumping of organic garbage at a crime scene. In this sense, perhaps no book can serve as a model for “Journey Under The Midnight Sun”. It seems that what I want to do may really fall into the category of quantum mechanics. That's just what I think, at least-

"By the way… Where are we going?"

"There is a nearby town, the name is written on the navigation system. Hey, but how should this be read? Czech is really difficult to understand... Karlovy...Vary?"

"Ah, I know this place. It is a famous hot spring resort."

"A Spa," Hiroyuki turned his head despite being driving "You said hot spring, right!? The next volume of this book must be the pink bookmark route!! I can't help but get excited!"

"Oh no, it’s a drinking cure spring."

"Oh?"

“It’s not a hot spring, but a drinking cure spring to make your body healthier. The Czech Republic has this custom.”

"...I haven't been so disappointed for a long time.”

Hiroyuki exclaims that he hasn’t been so disappointed since learning secrets about various other topics, and hopes that Europeans will one day be able to understand the beauty of japanese style hot springs. Shinobu thinks about how every countries hot springs are different because their values are different. People who say things like "Only the Japanese can understand this kind of beauty" when visiting buddhist temples are self-righteous. She thinks about how big the world is and how even with common and uncommon sense, the world will never change. She is unlucky to have met so many fakes, imposters and counterfeits in the Czech Republic, and even though Hiroyuki is alive, Byakuya is still missing.

"It really is a whimsical world."

Hiroyuki commented this way, but it seems to me that "unreal world" is more accurate. Impossible things, unimaginable things, incredible things are appearing before me, but no matter how much I complain, the problems at hand will not be resolved by myself. Escape from this ridiculous world, or be swallowed up by this ridiculous world. To all of this insanity, I can only say one thing.

"I’m hungry."

Shinobu and Hiroyuki drop off by a KFC. Even though it’s not Christmas time just yet, they still decided to eat there anyway. [4] They stuffed themselves, and Shinobu continued to eat in the car, and Hiroyuki cracks a joke that falls flat on its head and is so not funny I'm not translating it.

The Mercedes is now driving to largest resort in the Czech Republic. The Karlovy Vary Spa began in the 14th century, when Carl IV discovered the source of the hot springs here; however, the style of the spa area seems to be internationally shared, and it is reminiscent of the streetscape of the Noboribetsu Onsen and Ikaho Onsen. [5] [6]

"It seems that it’s still open," Hiroyuki looked out through the window. "That said, I can't take you sightseeing."

"How can they still be open in this situation?"

"Well KFC is still open."

“By the way, the spa in the Czech Republic is one person at a time according to the instructions. So please don’t have any strange expectations.”

“Oh yeah, why are you so familiar with this place anyway?"

"I... I did some investigation beforehand because I wanted to come to the hot springs with Byakuya-sama!"

"........."

"I have been looking forward to this trip."

Moving on from the subject, Hiroyuki thinks that Byakuya might have used the Kudan, though Shinobu points that no matter what happens Byakuya wouldn’t do it. Even when faced with absolute despair. Granted, she doesn’t know why he would seal it away either. To that, Hiroyuki believes that perhaps the re-assurance of it being sealed was better than than using the Kudan.

When they arrive at the hotel next to the drinking spring, Shinobu does a quick search with Borges. Apparently it’s a very luxurious hotel which accommodated many important historical figures such as Goethe and Beethoven. [7][8] But something seemed off. Even though the Czech government declared a state of emergency, many people who looked like tourists were in the hotel lobby. Hiroyuki comes back to Shinobu and says that he has booked a room on the top floor of the hotel.

She covers her face to avoid any assassin’s on the lookout, and they then head to the room. As soon as they open the door, Shinobu lays on the bed and falls asleep saying that she hasn’t slept properly since they came to Prague.

"It's good to get a good night's rest, helps you wake up more clear minded," Hiroyuki's voice entered my mind. "The most important thing about an article is not its writing, but the study beforehand."

She wakes up all sweaty and with messy hair, so she decides to take a bath. While she is doing that, she thinks about where could Byakuya be and she remembers what he said.

“Wait for me.”

She still doesn’t understand what he meant, but she decides to have faith in Byakuya and just wait as he said. She didn’t want to put back on her old sweaty clothes, but she didn’t want to wear the bathrobe either. When she comes out of the bathroom, she finds Hiroyuki eating a Czech meal.

"Oh, Hello, Miss Beautiful."

Hiroyuki still made me feel more uncomfortable.

He asks her to sit down and eat, and even though she is not hungry (thanks to eating KFC) she still agrees. They start with some small talk, about different cultural cuisines, such as Roman, Slovakian and Czech, but they decide to get on with it.

It seems that if I want to continue the topic, I’d have to sit down with him. With a sigh, I sat down opposite of Mr. Hiroyuki Ketouin. There are many foods on the table that look like Czech food, although I don't know if it is. Roasted chicken with fat, and sour pickles next to it, mushroom soup, stir-fried pork with horseradish and spicy sauce, wrapped in a thin layer of fried squid, with aroma of charcoal. Lamb chops, oiled cheese, oyster steak, sour cream yak meat, mineral water, and his beer is still Pilsner beer. These meaty dishes are those of this country on lockdown. Surprisingly, looking at them, my stomach is hungry again. This made me realize that I am still alive.

Hiroyuki poured beer into a huge wide-mouth cup and called out: "Cheers!" raising the cup. I poured the mineral water into a classic glass and took a bite of cheese. In the suite where the sunlight shone through the large window at the rear, I enjoyed the food. If the person sitting across from me was Byakuya-sama, this would be a wonderful scene.

Translations notes:

[1] Goran Colak is a Croation freediver who currently holds the world record for holding breath underwater. His record is now at 23:01.

[2] Bruh, I am trying ok.

[3] The Tale Of Genji is a classic work of Japanese literature written by the noblewoman and lady-in-waiting Murasaki Shikibu in the early years of the 11th century. The original manuscript no longer exists. It was made in "concertina" or orihon style: several sheets of paper pasted together and folded alternately in one direction then the other, around the peak of the Heian period. The work is a unique depiction of the lifestyles of high courtiers during the Heian period, written in archaic language and a poetic and confusing style that makes it unreadable to the average Japanese without dedicated study. It was not until the early 20th century that Genji was translated into modern Japanese, by the poet Akiko Yosano. The first English translation was attempted in 1882, but was of poor quality and incomplete.

[4] From December 1974, KFC Japan began to promote fried chicken as a Christmas meal, with its long running "Kentucky for Christmas" or "Kentucky Christmas" advertising campaign. Eating KFC food as a Christmas meal has since become a widely practised custom in Japan. As of 2019, in Japan, Christmas sales of KFC made around Christmas Eve account for nearly five per cent of annual revenue.

[5] Noboribetsu Onsen is Hokkaido's most famous hot spring resort, offering as many as eleven different kinds of thermal waters, that are considered among Japan's best and most effective. The resort town consists of numerous (mostly large sized) ryokan and hotels with hot spring baths. Several of them open their baths during daytime to non-staying guests for typically 700 to 2000 yen. In addition, there is one public bath house located in the center of town.

[6] Ikaho Onsen is a hot spring town located on the eastern slopes of Mount Haruna. Known for its reddish brown, iron-laden thermal waters, Ikaho Onsen joins Kusatsu, Minakami and Shima Onsen as the four most famous hot spring resorts of Gunma Prefecture. The atmospheric old town area of Ikaho centers around the 300 meter long stone stairs which lead up through the middle of town and are lined by ryokan, old fashioned game arcades and shops. A few kilometers outside of Ikaho stands Mizusawa Kannon, a popular temple, well known for the udon noodles sold at restaurants along its approach. Mount Haruna with its beautiful caldera lake can also be easily combined with a visit to Ikaho.

[7] Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was a German writer and statesman. His works include: four novels; epic and lyric poetry; prose and verse dramas; memoirs; an autobiography; literary and aesthetic criticism; and treatises on botany, anatomy, and colour. In addition, numerous literary and scientific fragments, more than 10,000 letters, and nearly 3,000 drawings by him have survived.

[8] Ludwig van Beethoven was a German composer and pianist. A crucial figure in the transition between the classical and romantic eras in classical music, he is considered to be one of the greatest composers of all time. Beethoven was born in Bonn, the capital of the Electorate of Cologne, and part of the Holy Roman Empire. He displayed his musical talents at an early age and was vigorously taught by his father Johann van Beethoven, and was later taught by composer and conductor Christian Gottlob Neefe. At age 21, he moved to Vienna and studied composition with Joseph Haydn. Beethoven then gained a reputation as a virtuoso pianist, and was soon courted by Karl Alois, Prince Lichnowsky for compositions, which resulted in Opus 1 in 1795. The piece was a great critical and commercial success, and was followed by Symphony No. 1 in 1800. This composition was distinguished for its frequent use of sforzandi, as well as sudden shifts in tonal centers that were uncommon for traditional symphonic form, and the prominent, more independent use of wind instruments. In 1801, he also gained notoriety for his six String Quartets and for the ballet The Creatures of Prometheus. During this period, his hearing began to deteriorate, but he continued to conduct, premiering his third and fifth symphonies in 1804 and 1808, respectively. His condition worsened to almost complete deafness by 1811, and he then gave up performing and appearing in public.

To Be Continued.

https://drmedicsgamesurgery.tumblr.com/GameSurgeryDRTranslations

#Danganronpa #Danganronpa:Togami #Danganronpa Togami #DRT3 Summary #Danganronpa: Togami #Part 3

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neotericbitch · 5 years

Text

a sequel to DarqAnon

part the first

It’s quite abusive, there I said it, how you’re allowed to force a ritual onto a child, whether it be reciting an anthem or staring at the sun, before their brain has developed enough to comprehend the significance. In fact, doing so makes it more likely that as the child grows up, they will never truly find meaning in the action! How sad is that? I’d never force anything on my son.

Growing up, staring into the sun was something I never understood. For a long time I didn’t, I couldn’t conceive of the satisfaction or happiness my family derived from it. It meant something to them, so they tried to teach it to me, but it never meant anything to me. I understood that the sun was their god, but because I never truly believed, I couldn’t grasp how or why it would be important to them to stare up at it, burning their eyeballs out of their sockets. Their god was sending a clear message, do not look at me. Why would they do it anyway?

Oh, but - do keep in mind that that’s all in the past. I understand now. I understand perfectly.

Valkyrie Cain has the most brilliant black eyes. Truly, her every feature is marvellous, her sharp nose, her expressive mouth - but I always go back to the eyes. For Crandall, it’s her hands. They’ve shared many times over many meetings, to the point where I find it very annoying, that they want nothing more than to feel her hands on the sides of their head before she crushes it. I think it’s a nice little fantasy to have, just stop telling us about it. I have only ever shared what I wanted two, maybe three times. That’s an acceptable amount of times! Any more is overdoing it, Crandall! Crandall, I know you’re listening. I’ve been able to feel it even when a very good Sensitive is in my head, Crandall, and you are not a very good Sensitive.

Beside me they turn their head away. Why would they want to listen to my thoughts, anyway, when Valkyrie is here? I suppose I understand their hesitance. Darquesse, goodness - Darquesse wouldn’t stand for anyone hearing her thoughts, absolutely not! To attempt it on her would be a high offence. But Crandall, if you’re still listening, I’d say go ahead for the time being. Darquesse isn’t here. Not yet.

Looking at her, it all makes sense. I want to call up my mother and tell her I understand, I understand wanting - needing! - to look at something, even if it does not want you to. The sun may try to blind you. Valkyrie may glare and scream and curse. But you simply cannot look away.

I cannot call up my mother, of course. She has been dead for a hundred years, and I’m busy right now - and I don’t think there’s mobile phone reception here anyway.

For this week’s Thursday meeting, 6 to 7:30, we have made a temporary move from the community hall to the vault, generously donated for DA’s use by Nicki, who we had to murder. Dear girl, she didn’t want to let me hold the meeting here this week. I suggested it at the end of last week’s meeting and everyone was very excited. A hundred meters beneath the spot where Darquesse opened her portal to another dimension and disappeared - we’re so lucky to have this place! Of course everyone wants to come here whenever we have the opportunity! But Nicki said no. Nicki said to me, “Isserley, these meetings have been really great, you are a good organiser and I’m very happy to have met everyone, but I think what you’re planning is wrong. Please return the vault key to me.” So we had to kill her.

And here we are tonight, and I almost wish Nicki were here so I could say, to think you didn’t want this! The meeting is going very well, I think it’s our best one yet. 6:40 and we’re just about to finish setting up, we’re a neat little group of people. We won’t go over time at all! I’d like to say that I, being an incredibly organised person, have been a good influence on my fellow DA-goers.

Salma finishes painting the symbol on the ground. Her designs are ugly, but she has a steady hand and knows how best to use the petrol paste, a very special concoction. No one else could have done this job - though I must admit, I am a bit envious. Easy, Isserley! Remember, your job is the most important. Without you, this wouldn’t work. Without you, Valkyrie would not even be here.

Salma reaches for Valkyrie. She thrashes wildly - and I can’t say I blame her! I wouldn’t want Salma to touch me, either! Haha. But it really won’t do for her to behave this way, we really need her complete cooperation, so I motion to Respite at the wall and he turns the crank, tightening the chains attached to the bound cuffs at her every limb. She is pulled tight, and by the sounds of it it’s not a very comfortable experience, but now she is tense and mostly still - perfect for Salma to draw the symbol on her wrists and stomach.

She puts up a hell of a fight when Respite disconnects the chains from the wall and reconnects them to the floor, at each corner of where the symbol has been painted so she is now seated in the centre. I can’t help but smile! She reminds me of one of those beautiful shrine maidens. If only I’d thought of that earlier. I would have put this off one more week and gotten an outfit made. But the clothes she put on herself this morning are more than lovely. Darquesse will like them. Darquesse will like being back.

Valkyrie keeps straining and trying to get up, the poor dear! I wish I could go over there and pat her face, like I used to pat my son’s when he was resisting me - I wish I could tell her everything will be alright. But I know, even chained and without magic, she could certainly find a way to kill me if I were within reach. And I don’t want her to kill me until the ritual is complete, of course! Otherwise what would be the point?

“I don’t even know,” Valkyrie growls - what a good word for it! Indeed, she is doing her very best to sound deep, dark and scary. Soon it will come naturally. “I don’t even know what you think this will do. It’s not a full moon, or a blood moon, or any kind of moon. It’s not a magical day, it’s not a holiday, it’s not even a day that means anything to me.”

It’s my birthday, but don’t tell anyone that. It’s my special little secret, my gift to myself.

“This sigil is totally made-up. It’s not going to do anything.” She tries to raise her hand to her face to wipe off some sweat, but the chain is too short. “Let me go and I’ll make it quick - because when Skulduggery gets here, he certainly fucking won’t.”

I crouch down to be on her level, and I’m filled with such...reverence. I understand. I understand. This is what I was supposed to feel kneeling in the sweltering heat for hours on end. I’m glad I feel it here instead.

“You will kill us,” I say. “But we’re not going to uncuff you, you’ll do that yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” She is so exasperated and so irritated and so wonderful. “These cuffs are bound. It doesn’t matter how great you think I am, I’m not that strong.”

“You will be! You will be.” In the corner of my vision I see Salma fidgeting. Salma!!! You’re ruining this!! To make her stop, I gesture at her so she can speak and stop annoying everyone with her movements.

“The sigil you’re sitting on,” she fires off in her horrible, grating voice, “and the sigils that are on you are my own designs. Just because you haven’t seen them before doesn’t mean they won’t work. They’ll work.” Her lip trembles and she bows her head. “I’m sorry you don’t...believe in me.”

Valkyrie stares for a moment. “You’re completely nuts.” Nuts! Aah! That’s the word I use to describe her! How exciting!

“They’ll work, I swear. I promise. We only need to activate them, and...” Salma looks to me. Unfortunately, I have to stand up now and go back to looking down on Valkyrie. It’s okay, though. It’s okay. Soon she’ll be looking down on me.

For now, she doesn’t look at me at all. She looks down at where she’s put her arms on her knees, wrists facing out. Perhaps Supreme Mage Sorrows once gave her a lesson on what certain strokes can mean, perhaps she’s trying to work out how to counteract our symbol.

She’s fabulous and smart, yes, but she won’t be able to work it out. I am confident. I snap my fingers, summoning a bright, orange flame into my hand. She lifts her head, looks me directly in the eye, and I smile widely. Very widely. Not widely enough. I hope, before Darquesse kills me, she at least takes the time to appreciate what I’m doing for her. I hope she recognises how much I love her. No - I don’t hope. I know. She will. She must.

I take a step forward and crouch again, reaching my hand out to the edge of the symbol on the ground. My flame will catch onto the petrol paste and spread immediately. Valkyrie will be burned, but only a little bit! Just a little bit. Long enough for the fire to catch the symbols on her skin, and she will be protected - and Darquesse will be summoned back into her. She will be complete again.

Before my flame touches the paste, Valkyrie shoots her hand out and smudges the line, which gives me just about the fright of my life! Thank goodness I have such incredible reflexes, otherwise I wouldn’t have jerked my hand away in time. The paste would have caught on fire and surely burned her to death! She rubs her wrists together, wiping away the symbols written there, then kicks her legs out from under her so she’s in a more traditional butt-to-ground position, but that means she’s made the ground symbol worse and displaced dirt into my face.

It’s hard to love her when she has literally blinded me. That whole thing about the sun and everything, it was more of a metaphor. I still love her of course! I’m only taken aback. Anything I may say as I fall backwards isn’t really my fault, since she’s the one who kicked dirt in my eyes. It's more of my reflexes. I never would say anything of the sort to her under normal circumstances. Never.

“You bitch!”

What an inconvenience. I don’t get to see any of what happens next! I only hear the door flying open and gunshots, the sounds of my people yelling and trying to fight. Punches, kicks, bodies falling to the ground. When I hear Salma scream and feel her blood land on my face, I can’t help it! I can’t help it but think, serves you right for putting a cent in the collection tray every week!

“Skulduggery, the-”

“Valkyrie. Are you alright?” Is that him getting on his knees? Maybe he understands after all. “Are you hurt?”

“My skin’s burning, let me loose so I can get this shit off me. The crank on the wall, I think that controls the cuffs.”

I roll onto my side and wipe the dirt from my eyes. I hear Pleasant at the wall, turning the crank back and hitting the release. It’s terribly uncomfortable, but I can open my eyes and see well enough - and what I see is Crandall dead next to me! It’s such a shock, my heart skips at least three beats. That rotten Pleasant. What a barbarian. I lift my head as carefully as I can, so I won’t be noticed. Valkyrie has lifted her shirt to get the symbol off her stomach and cannot see me.

This is so unfair. I put so much work into this plan. It was so hard to trap her! I was going to bring Darquesse back. Me. Not Crandall, not Salma. Not Nicki. Her black eyes would have bored into my skull and killed me and I would have been good and happy. Huh! Maybe I'm not too different to those Faceless worshippers who go blowing themselves up in public places.

“Isserley. I thought that was you.” Pleasant. Pleasant is talking to me. “How have you been?”

Valkyrie snaps her head up at him. “You know her?”

“We’ve seen her in the High Sanctuary.”

“Jesus. Is there anyone you don’t remember.”

“No.” He reaches out and wipes the rest of the symbol off her stomach in one motion. I have dirt in my eyes but I see how her tummy kind of curls in a bit as she drops her shirt down.

That should be me. That should be me. I love her more than anyone. I burst into tears.

“She tried to set me on fire.”

“I think a list of people who haven’t tried to set you on fire would be shorter than a list of those who have.” I hear the clink of handcuffs. “Come on, now, Isserley.”

I let my head drop back onto the ground and stare up at the ceiling. I do not take one more look at Valkyrie. I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy. I failed. “Why don’t you just kill me.” I’m not even aware of myself saying it, to be honest! Just one of those things that...slips out...

“She makes a good point, Skulduggery.”

“Can’t be done. We should leave at least one cultist alive to arrest, so why not take the woman in charge?”

“How do you know she’s the one in charge?”

His terrible skull fills my vision as he looks down at me. You know, hearing him talk this much at one time has jogged my memory. And he does happen to wear very beautiful suits. My mouth falls open. “You’re-”

Valkyrie was startled for a moment by the sudden gunshot. Shoulders tensed, she looked over to Skulduggery standing over the woman, gun still pointed into a face that didn’t really exist anymore.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked as he put the revolver away. Skulduggery came over to her and brushed some hair out of her face, went back to fussing over the injuries she sustained on her way here.

“Too talkative,” he said, and she laughed and teased him about being a hypocrite.

#skulduggery pleasant #thanks for subscribing

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nocteverbascio · 6 years

Note

Watolock prompt 52 pleasee i love your writingg 💞💞💞 (“So you guys are dating or?”)

HI~ so i may or may not be assuming that you’re new to me and my writing so WELCOME (because ive just literally started writing watolock for the last couple of days) and funny enough my stuff i’ve been writing has been based off the prompt list but i have kind of deviated from it a bit so you’re probably not going to see the exact quote but idea is all there…anyway

closest thing to datingSummary: Sherlock observes Shibata and Wato at a crime scene. It’s obvious they’re dating each other. Wato thinks Sherlock needs to do more research to sharpen her observation skills. Sherlock thinks Wato needs to do more research to understanding what dating consists of.

ao3 link

Sherlock is inspecting the scene, listening to Shibata go on about the case, while Wato looks over the body and relays her findings. There’s an unbridled glee as she checks every inch of the exhibit. A killer mummy? How interesting.

She peers into the empty sarcophagus, hearing Shibata go on about how everything was seemingly normal and the team that worked on the mummy can confirm it was indeed dead. There was no chance it could come to life; it’s an incredible occurrence that’s captured Sherlock’s interest.

“They say the tomb has been cursed,” Shibata goes on ominously. Even he is interested in this case moreso than others. “Anyone who has disturbed the resting one will be put to rest.”

Sherlock scoffs in disbelief. “A curse,” she mocks, eyeing the sarcophagus up and down and reaching in.

“Ah! It’s like that movie, The Mummy, right?” Wato chimes in playfully. “The men who take the mummy’s relics are hunted down and sucked the life out of.”

“Yes, yes!” Shibata agrees enthusiastically. “It’s a great movie! It’s been so long since I’ve seen it. I thought about that when we first heard about the case.”

“Oh, it was a great movie growing up,” Wato converses cheerfully as always. “The scene where the scarab crawls into the man’s flesh kept me up for weeks after seeing it. Just thinking about it still makes my skin crawl.” She lets out a giggle and Shibata laughs along with her.

Sherlock clenches her jaw, listening to their inane conversation about the movie. “A movie isn’t an accurate depiction of Ancient Egyptian practices. There are no such things as curses,” she deadpans, standing up straight to face them.

“Just because you don’t believe in curses, doesn’t mean they aren’t true,” Wato argues. “There are plenty of things that can’t be explained.”

Shibata agrees audibly to which Sherlock glares.

“What?” he defensively asks. “I’m not saying this particular case is cursed, but there are things that science has yet to prove. Wato isn’t wrong.” Wato smiles, pleased at his defense.

There’s a strange sensation in Sherlock’s chest as she observes the two of them. Wato stands inches beside Shibata. Wato looks different, Sherlock notices. Wato is wearing a less sack looking shirt that hides her figure and has opted for a portofino button up that she’s tucked comfortably into her slacks underneath a new jacket that she mentioned getting last week but wasn’t sure if she was going to wear it. Her hair is also different, half up half down and with her bangs grown up, she looks beautifully mature. And there’s a thin layer of concealer.

Wato looks at Shibata happily and Shibata looks back at Wato with the same level of affection.

Sherlock eyes carefully. The strange sensation actually starts to twist inside of her. It bothers her, making her blood boil and heart rate rise. They laugh at some inside joke they share. And Sherlock feels–

“If we are not talking about the case, then what’s the point of you being here?” Sherlock interjects, trying to focus on the task at hand. She was in such a good mood and now it’s turned sour all of a sudden.

“Sherlock,” Wato scolds with a warning look.

“It’s fine, Wato,” Shibata keeps his composure, even shooting her a gentle smile. “I’m going to talk to the medical examiner.”

Sherlock feels a pang in her chest. “Good,” Sherlock snaps encouragingly. “We need a full report for any possible foreign agent or toxins in the victim’s blood stream.”

Shibata nods and gives another look to Wato that has her smiling before he steps away.

Instead of lingering, Sherlock whips back to sarcophagus to continue her investigation. “Good riddance,” she mutters, tilting her head into the supposedly ancient sarcophagus.

“What was that?” Wato asks pointedly, hand grasping her elbow.

Sherlock’s concentration doesn’t break because she knows Wato isn’t trying to distract her; she wants Sherlock to know that she’s nearby though. “What?” she mutters, running her finger along a dip near the head of the sarcophagus.

“You were mean to Shibata for no reason,” Wato points out like it’s the most obvious thing.

“We are conducting an investigation, not having small talk over movies,” Sherlock lets out rather derisively. “Even if you are dating, there’s a time an place for leisurely conversation.”

“Eh?” Wato exclaims loudly. Sherlock shuts her eyes at the sudden loudness. Wato looks around at the officers in the room apologetically. She rubs the back of Sherlock’s bicep. “What’re you talking about?”

Sherlock rolls her eyes as she rounds the sarcophagus because Wato’s hand touching her becomes too warm. “You and Shibata,” she deadpans. She clenches her fists unconsciously at the thought of two of them.

Wato follows after her. “Sherlock, you are being ridiculous,” she declares. She bumps into Sherlock when she abruptly stops at the desk and has to grab onto Sherlock’s arms to steady herself.

Sherlock has gotten used to it and pays no mind as she turns her head to look at Wato briefly. “How am I being ridiculous? It is quite elementary, Wato.” The twisting sensation she has in her chest still lingers and it only seems to pronounce itself whenever Sherlock mentions them. She looks back towards the papers littered across the table and continues observing.

Wato doesn’t seem to let go of Sherlock. She just steps to the side of her and leans in to speak to her more privately. “I think your observation skills need sharpening,” Wato points out with annoyance. “Shibata and I are not dating.”

“Is that so?” Sherlock hums, ignoring the lightness in her chest at Wato’s apparent denial. She shifts a few papers to read them thoroughly. “Your sudden wardrobe change and attention to your appearance says otherwise. It’s comparable to animals that have flashy and attractive assets they put on display to attract a mate.”

Wato hooks her hands around Sherlock’s arm and leans in with a tug. “Sherlock, I’m not some animal!” she grumbles with annoyance. “A mate sounds so–”

“It is accurate, we are animals. Mammals in fact and we have our own mating rituals that are just shaped by modern society that we live it, but it isn’t all that different,” Sherlock goes on. Despite her discourse related to the fact that Wato is putting on a display for the likes of Shibata, the fact that Wato is currently holding onto her isn’t bothering her at all. “It makes sense for you to date. Between working cases with me and the clinic, your parents have a growing concern that you won’t find anyone to married and produce offspring.”

Wato cringes and exhales shaking her head. “Do you hear yourself speak?” she asks in disbelief. “How do you even know what my parents are saying?”

Sherlock hangs her head to look at Wato with a questioning look. Honestly, Wato should know better by now.

“Tsk, I’ve talked to you about eavesdropping on my conversations–”

“You speak very loudly while I’m in the room.”

“Well then you should at least listen to the whole conversation,” Wato argues.

“Your family affairs have nothing to do with me,” Sherlock automatically holds up her hand as a shield before pointing towards one of the other Egyptian displays. Wato nods and moves with Sherlock, still holding onto her.

“My family affairs don’t have anything to do with you,” Wato concedes just to placate Sherlock. “However, my affairs–meaning my work and our work–has to do with you.”

“Huh?” Sherlock sounds while looking up and down the Egyptian text carved in the stone before reaching in her pocket for her phone. “Me?”

“We work together and live together,” Wato points out. “We share most of our time together; what possible time would I have to date? And honestly, why would you even consider me dating Shibata? We are good friends.”

Sherlock huffs. “Your body language and behavior is obvious,” she feels like she’s repeating herself for the umpteenth time. “If you’re trying to hide it from me, it’s moot.”

“Moot?” Wato parrots in disbelief. “Ah! Why are you so frustrating?” She grips Sherlock’s arm more securely to actually get her attention. “I’m not dating anyone. The closest thing I would have to dating is you.”

“Ah? Me?” Sherlock’s attention shoots to Wato suddenly. She is actually shocked. Dating? Dating Wato? Her mind tries to wrap around the course of their conversation to find out when it went sideways. She feels a tightness, this time in her chest because her heart seems to be beating very noticeably. “Why would you say such a thing?”

Wato returns the same look Sherlock had given her not too long ago. She tilts her head with an unsaid Really?

Sherlock laughs at how absurd the path of the conversation has gone. “That is not logical. I’ve read enough about dating and love and all of it’s absurd societal expectations along with its inevitable outcomes to avoid being a victim of romance.”

“Romance and dating have changed since you’ve read about them,” Wato argues, “and I’ve learned from working with you that companionship and intimacy can be defined in many unconventional ways.”

Sherlock tilts her head and covers Wato’s mouth with her hand before she can continue speaking. “This requires further research. Please don’t speak anymore of this; your opinion does not dictate the facts.” To her surprise, she can feel Wato smiling underneath her palm and she lets go.

Wato has a cheeky smile on her face that is infectious enough to make Sherlock smile. “I’ve surprised you, haven’t I?”

Sherlock shakes her head in disbelief. “Dating! How absurd, Wato.” She starts to walk away before turning around and walking backwards. “I’ll prove to you what dating is and solve this case simultaneously.”

After her thorough sweep of the scene she heads out while Wato lingers to apologize profusely to the curator for Sherlock’s harsh criticisms of the exhibit security.

“Sherlock.”

Sherlock looks up from her phone and sees Shibata standing in front of her. “Ah, you’re still here?” Admittedly, she’d forgotten about him in a few minutes after he left her sight. Now that he was back, she felt that coiling sensation inside of her again.

Shibata looks around Sherlock briefly. “Where’s Wato?”

Sherlock huffs. “She’ll be out in a second.”

“Ah,” Shibata nods in agreement with an impassive look on his face. “Listen, we’ve come a bit of ways, you and I.”

“What do you want?” Sherlock retorts with annoyance.

Shibata laughs to himself. “This is why I need Wato around, so you’ll be nicer to me.” Sherlock moves to walk away when he stands in her way. “Look, I’m not trying to get in between you two because I know how possessive you are of Wato.”

“What?” Sherlock reels back at possessive.

“But Wato is one of my good friends. She’s much kinder and more compassionate than you are, so I obviously like her more than you,” Shibata points out with an annoying grin, “but I know you and Wato are dating. I support you two.”

Sherlock’s eyes widen in complete shock, but she recovers quickly. There’s a bubbling sensation in her chest and warmth running up and down her back. Sherlock feels the need to get out of there. “What’s with you kids?” she grumbles to herself. “Do you even know what dating is anymore?!“ She shoots a glare at Shibata and shakes her head in frustration as she walks away. "Absurd!”

#watolock #miss sherlock #jealous sherlock #cheeky af wato #theyre basically a married couple #the case of roommates #fanfic

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taetae-tea · 6 years

Text

The One (Part IV)

Part III <- Part IV –> Part V

Genre: Hybrid!Taehyung, (soul)mate!Taehyung, Fluff, Angst, smut

Paring: TaehyungXreader

Word-count: 3,5K

Warnings: Abuse, unjust, anxiety, force, animalistic feelings, panic-attacks, indication of mating, a dilemma to chose between heart or mind

Summary: You’ve never liked the idea of hybrids, since it’s straight up abuse from a owner to a hybrid, they aren’t treated like humans. But what happens when your boss gave you a hybrid as a gift?

A/N: Hope y’all are having a great christmas xx Enjoy this next part of The One <3

Masterlist

What happened in Pt.III of The One

‘I want to be with you, marry you, have kids with you, go to thin and thick with you. Everything ___-’

‘Give me 2 days, 2 days to let me think about it all. Don’t force me, don’t try and effect my answer because we both know you will win it that way. I want to solve this problem with a proper mind-set.’ You say as you look up at his beautiful eyes, twinkling by just the mere touch of your hand on his back, torso against yours.

‘Okay ___, I’ll wait.’

‘I don’t want him anymore. He just fucking disobeyed me.’

The middle-aged woman huffed loudly into the speaker. Taehyung flinched away by the harsh tone, sad and scared that he couldn’t fully comply to his owners wants. He didn’t meant to react like that to her, he just found a threesome with 2 complete strangers going too far. He isn’t a whore, he still had that much of a respect for his own body.

‘Yes, replace him immediately.’

Tears began to form in his eyes again. He fucked it up, he wasn’t supposed to fuck it up again. He never intended on disappointing her, not at all, but he thought it was reasonable to place his boundaries there. Fuck, why can’t you do anything right?

The 2 days were like hell. Everything just felt as if you were placed into a big dark place, gloomy and somewhat scary. You’ve been isolating from Taehyung as much as you were able. You had sticked to your own words, you really wanted to know if this would be the right choice, to be with him and you of course had to check if you were able to have another human being in your house.

Financial, it could work. You made enough money to afford another human in your house, that’s nonetheless why you stayed at that company after all. It was fucked up, the way they treaded woman and lower-standing people in the company. You’ve accepted the reality a long time ago and lived through it, what ended up very good for you. Eventually, they saw how your presence in that company could be good for them as well and despite you being a woman, they still needed you on certain aspects. That’s how you got several promotions and you began to earn more money.

Normally you would invest your extra earned money to save it up, but you could also invest that money into Taehyung’s presence.

Now, that being settled, you had to go to the next problem, your family and friends. How in hell could you explain to them that you were about to be with a hybrid for the rest of your life? You couldn’t possibly do that. They wouldn’t accept him, not when he doesn’t work at least.

It made you wonder though, what if he was specialized in something else than being a hybrid? The company Hy-tech doesn’t exist that long, maybe 5 years or so. That means, he has been doing something else before becoming a hybrid. Maybe he is able to have a real job, to earn some money. And thinking back to your new-found friend, Emma, he will be needing something that keeps his thoughts off of you during your work-hours. You know a hybrid can’t be away from their mate very long, not longer than a few hours, so that had to mean he needs to busy himself in the remaining time.

Emma: Hey! It’s Emma again. I was wondering if we could maybe meet up, talk face to face :)

You cock your head slightly, surprised that she is willing to really meet up with you, despite not knowing you. Maybe a talk with her could help indeed. A day has already past after all and you did not yet found an answer for Taehyung. Though your body screams constantly for Taehyung’s presents, warming up every time he is in the same room and your heart aching every time he isn’t. You long for him, so much, you feel so attached to him already, though you’ve only known him for 3 days. It looks unnatural, but it feels so right. Your head still tries to get you to look at the reality. How can you love something that isn’t even a real human? Yes, he does deserves human rights, but you aren’t the kind of person to really share your life with something like him, a hybrid.

You: Yes, that sounds like a great idea :)) I’ve been conflicted these few days so this might freshen up some things.

Two hours later, being 3 o’clock precisely, you were at the same little café you were with your best friend a few days ago. You’ve always liked the little café, since the service there is great and the atmosphere around there is so cozy. Emma luckily lives near your city, being one hour away with the car, so she didn’t mind coming to your town at all. She was actually very excited to meet you, since there aren’t many people being mated with an hybrid, having the same problems she is facing or went through.

‘___? That’s you right?’ You suddenly hear from behind and you turn around to be meet with a really pretty girl. She has long wavy hear, long lashes and such a pretty figure. You couldn’t really hide your amazement of her appearance as you began to stare, making her giggle in response. ‘Don’t fall in love with me, my kitten will kill me if some other person would drool all over me.’

You began to giggle in response, somewhat amazed by the confidence she wears. You like people who are very strong on their own, not scared to talk their mind. It’s admirable, really.

‘Yeah, it’s me, then you must be Emma.’ You say while standing up and taking her hand to shake, having a rather humorous turn in your little action. The both smiled at each other, feeling a new bond created. You both pulled away and sat across from each other.

‘Was it a long trip?’ You asked, being polite and genuinely interested. She shook her head. ‘It was quite enjoyable actually, I never really get the chance to really get out of that house.’ She chuckles. You cock your head to the side, asking her silently why she wouldn’t be able to get out.

‘Ahh, that. Well I told you already actually. Jimin never leaves me alone I swear to god.’ She huffs, chuckling after. You connected the dots vastly and realized that Jimin is probably her panther-hybrid, her mate. You nod to yourself, remembering the little talk you had with her over text. She had told her hybrid became incredibly clingy and you personally don’t mind clingy, but you still need to be able to focus on your work. Though, if you had to be honest, you wouldn’t mind having someone to rip you away from the torturous homework you need to finish every friday evening.

An ober walked up to your table, wearing an handsome smile as he asked you for your orders. You, like always, ordered for a strawberry milkshake, knowing it’s one of their best drinks they sell. Emma did the same, after you recommended the choice of drink of course.

‘But, what I wanted to ask-.’ Emma began. ‘why are you having difficulties lately? With your mate I mean?’ She asked, curious to why you actually wanted to meet up. You sigh slightly, looking down at you lap. Hearing the words ‘your mate’ felt so good to hear. It’s as if it’s supposed to be like this.

‘It’s not my mate yet.’

She frowns as she leans in. ‘Why not?’ Her tone was quite worried too, probably now understanding why you are frustrated-looking. She had noticed it the moment she sat across from you. She scanned the bags under your eyes and the pale(ish) skin. She found it odd, but concluded that it might be just the way you look. It seemed that she was wrong about that after all and that you have been having sleepless nights these 2 days.

‘I don’t know if this is what I want yet.’

She nods, understanding completely what you mean. She has had the same problem in the past, not knowing if she really would want Jimin in her life like that. Though she was very much in love and attracted, she still didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. It’s probably common to feel like that when you’re about to share your life with someone else, not only hybrid focused. But, having a hybrid to share your life with, meant that there were more changes than with a normal marriage. Your affection and communication with each other are all so different from a normal human couple. But, it’s not in a bad way, it’s actually so nice, feeling one with your partner. You understand each other ten times better once you are mated.

‘I have one tip for you in this matter, follow your heart, not your head.’

‘If I did that, I would be mated to him already. My body is literally screaming for him.’ You sigh, looking down at your milkshake, which has been served a few moments ago.

‘I said heart, not body. Look if his personality complies perfectly with yours. That’s the only thing that matters.’

Her words had sticked with you. She was right, you should listen to your heart, not anything else. If your personalities won’t match, it isn’t the right thing to be his mate.

There was also something else that had sticked with you during your way home and which got you blushing while thinking about it. The mating process.

‘The what process?’

‘The mating process, silly.’ She laughs, slightly blushing as she looks down at her lap. You frown, now being the one to lean in.

‘What is it precisely?’

‘The way you will be mated.’

‘And that is...?’

She sighs, looking around if anyone would hear before leaning closer to you. You don’t know where the dramatic reaction is for, but she surely knew how to get one scared within seconds. What if you had to undergo some weird rituals?

‘It’s with sex.’

You blink a few times, trying to understand what she just said before almost jumping out of your seat. You were surprised to say the least. You knew that there was some kind of thing you had to undergo, of course, but you naturally thought he simply had to bite you. It does explain why your body reacts the way it currently does in the presence of Taehyung. It wants to get mated and if that meant sex, it will make it known right away.

‘It’s not only the sex, he will have to bite you to connect your souls. It hurts so much, but it will be worth it after. You will feel so connected.’ She tells the story as if it’s some dream coming through. For you it’s not a dreams coming true, it’s most likely a unexpected and uncertain dream coming true.

You quietly shook your head, chuckling to yourself in disbelieve. If you didn’t yet have any uncertainty, it surely exists now.

The rest of the day went quite fast. You’ve had a great time with Emma and you made sure to see each other another time.

When you came home, you could hear some noises from the kitchen. You look at the clock, eyes widening when you noticed it was already 6 pm and Taehyung would be needing to eat.

You sprinted at the kitchen, scared that Taehyung is experimenting with stuff that might hurt him. But, when you walked inside, Taehyung is happily swaying his tail around while cooking something that smells... delicious. You are quite taken aback, surprised that Taehyung was able to cook so well, judged from the smell that lingered around the room. But then again, Taehyung had a life before being a slave of that company, maybe he had to cook often or was he even graduated from a culinary school.

‘I made us some dinner.’ He announced as he hadn’t turned around to look at you. You could feel the happy atmosphere around him, making your mood to lighten up immediately. You nod in response, though he probably couldn’t see you. You slowly walk up to him, scared that your body might fuck it up again by letting know your growing affection already, but you still wanted to see what he is cooking. When the food came into your view, you were even more surprised. He is preparing tomato soup, self made and probably put together by the few remaining vegetables which were left in your fridge. You normally don’t really cook for yourself, maybe some eggs or pancakes once in a while, but you never really have enough time to prepare something more difficult at night.

‘Where did you learn to cook?’ You finally ask, deciding on letting go of your pestering question which have been sticking to the back of your mind. You swiftly look at his face to analyze any frowns, scared that you might pulled another trigger, but you were happy to be met with a soft smile from his side.

‘Cooking is actually the only thing they decided to keep within my system.’ He said, spoon stirring through the hot liquid inside the saucepan. His words seems sad, but when you look closer, you notice something light within his tone. It’s as if he’s grateful to be able to remember how to cook. He is grateful for something you shouldn’t be grateful of. You can’t be happy when the only thing you can do is cooking. And of course, they would let that within his system, it could be handy to have a hybrid which was able to cook.

‘Don’t get sad about it ___, I’m okay.’ He said as soon as he feels your downy-atmosphere in the air. He could feel it in his heart too, when the anger slowly began to boil again.

He at first was quite confused to why you got angry so often. Every time he told you something about his past, it seemed as if he touched a weak part of your emotions. Over the years, he came to accept his fate and let himself drown in all the lies he got told and eventually didn’t see reality anymore, so it wasn’t weird when he didn’t understood certain emotions from your side. But, in some way, your emotions were effecting him. Like you were waking something up within him. He dared to take his own initiative and to look up into your eyes. If it was with anyone else, he would still be as submissive as ever with his owner, but you are different, obviously.

‘I actually enjoy cooking so much.’ He noted, sighing in content. You sighed along with him as you showed a little smile across your face. Though your hate towards hy-tech was still visibly growing, Taehyung’s words still didn’t fail to reach through your hatred and to slowly calm you down, returning your thoughts back to him.

‘Then you should cook more often, if you like it this much.’

You took a step back from the kitchen counters and began leaning over onto the table across the room. You began to admire his back-view for a little bit. His wide shoulders are so pleasingly beautiful and you could see the veins on his arms disappearing in the sleeves of his sweater, which were folded up to his elbows.

When your gaze began to trail southwards, you became amazed by the yellow and goldish tail with a brown fluffy bundle of hair at the end of it, it was slowly swinging from the one to the other side, showing he is feeling comfortable and at ease.

You sigh to yourself again, pleased with your view and sad at the same time, because you can’t hold him like the way you want to hold him right now.

‘You know that you just have to ask if you would want a hug right?’ He says, chuckling when he hears you gasping in response. You sometimes totally forget he could feel everything you feel, so also your urges and needs. You felt it sometimes from his side too, mostly when you were showering and you could practically smell his arousal. You hated those moments, since you almost wouldn’t be able to just let him fuck you right against those tiles.

‘N-No, that’s not needed.’

You could hear him chuckle again, followed by a glance back at you, eyes slightly dark and a smirk quite visible. Your body had an instant reaction on his behavior, heating up quickly in an affectional way. You’ve been trying to avoid these moments the past few hours, to keep your head straight and to focus on the real problems for a second. But, sometimes your body seemed to fail you and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing you thighs close against each other, wetness forming at your center, just like now.

‘Hmm, it suddenly smells a lot more delicious here.’ He mutters, very much happy with the reaction he got out of you. You gulp, pupils already blown wide and skin aching for his touch already.

‘So sensitive for me...’ he sighs in delight, knowing you could hear him.

Then your legs suddenly gave out on you, being too affected from him and body now literally screaming for his attention, mostly his teeth to make you his mate. He was quick to catch you from falling, now also shocked himself of the reaction you had on him.

‘Fuck, sorry.’ He feels quite guilty for making your body ache like that and when he touches your skin, he almost burns himself by how hot you are. When his gaze traveled down to your center, he notices a big wet spot on your trousers and he immediately smelled that it’s your arousal dripping onto your clothes. Though he felt himself getting turned on, his worries got the best of him and began lifting you off the ground and brought you to the living-room, laying you down on the sofa.

‘What can I do?’ He asks, brows furrowed and scared he might really have broken you this time, tail also furiously wiggling around as he feels very uncomfortable by your current state.

‘Fuck me, Taehyung.’ You breathe out, finally losing it. His breath hitches and his tail stopped moving, now his fluffy ears twitching when he felt himself getting quite nervous. You can’t stop yourself anymore, you need his body right now to stop the constant feeling within you. Your body screams, your heart screams and your head now also screams to let him take you.

‘No, ___, you’re not in your right mind. Please think about this a little longe-.’

You stopped him by grabbing his hand, guiding it immediately to your trousers, wanting him to ease your ache you are feeling. He bites his lips, not knowing what to do at that very moment. He knows you are losing it right now and that you aren’t exactly at the right set of mind. But, on the contrary of those thoughts, his erection only began to grow more and more, his own needs taking over his mind.

‘Please Tae...’ you sigh, both of yours and his hand now sliding into your pants and letting him cup your clothed heat, showing how wet you are for him. You could see his eyes flicker, black and red eye-colors taking turns. You knew he was very much conflicted on what to do and you knew, if you only got him a little more closer, you could have him to mate with yo-

Taehyung suddenly ripped his hand out of your pants, immediately standing up and turning around. He almost sprinted away from you, back to the kitchen and locking himself into that room, leaving you alone and aching.

Although all his senses told him to take you right then and there, he knew that you had to be in your right mind for this decision. A human blinded by lust will never make the right decisions, although it was your body making you crazy, he still knew that he shouldn’t take advantage of that. He wants you to choose fairly and to choose for the person he is and not because of your body.

But, this decision has to be taken quickly, because looking at his calendar, his heath will arrive in a day or 3. The pills they got him will certainly not work on a guy in heath with his soulmate in the same room. So, let’s just say, you need to get mated quickly or he needs to get out of that house before hell takes over and he quite literally won’t be able to hold himself back like that anymore.

Hope you enjoyed this one! Love y’all <3

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