#i might move again soon if all goes according to plan and its within a year
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Fic: Diverging Paths (29/31)
Summary: Xerxes falls and the only two survivors walk away from the dead city.
Homunculus is keen to make the most of the new human body he now wears, and he goes out into the world, still planning his ascension to godhood as he strips away his vices and turns them into homunculi.
Van Hohenheim believes he has become a monster, and he hides himself away, befriending the other abominations of the world, failed human transmutations doomed to agonising half-life without the intervention of a Philosopher’s Stone.
Years later, Homunculus meets Trisha Elric and sires two sons with her before vanishing into the night, whilst Hohenheim tries to foil his doppelgänger’s schemes.
Years after that, Edward and Alphonse Elric are caught up in the middle of it all…
A Father-Hohenheim role reversal switcheroo, following Mangahood’s main plot with elements of ‘03, based on the premise ‘what if Father was Ed and Al’s father and Hohenheim was the one hiding under Central?’
Rated: Teen
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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [Fourteen] [Fifteen] [Sixteen] [Seventeen] [Eighteen] [Nineteen] [Twenty] [Twenty-One] [Twenty-Two] [Twenty-Three] [Twenty-Four] [Twenty-Five] [Twenty-Six] [Twenty-Seven] [Twenty-Eight] [AO3]
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Content Warning: Canon-typical violence
Twenty-Nine
Ed would admit that he was desperate. He had no idea what to do now, and looking at Teacher, he could see that she had no idea what to do either. They were cut off from their back-up, and the only reinforcements that they did have up here in the throne room were both unconscious. Considering Father’s vast power, it would be stupid to try and attack him now, just the two of them.
Maybe with Al and Hohenheim they could have put up a good defence, but Ed still couldn’t help thinking about the fact that Mustang was probably going to appear in their midst soon. He didn’t want to think about what state the colonel might be in, and having to take care of him in the middle of a pitched battle wouldn’t have been easy.
There was a tiny little cough from Al’s armour and Ed looked across at him, but he showed no signs of waking. Indeed, the little cough seemed to have echoed from within his chest cavity rather than being his normal voice.
He ventured closer as the cough came again, and this time it was loud enough for Father to have heard it too.
“How interesting.” He stepped down from his throne and came towards Al; Ed threw himself between them.
“If you lay a finger on him…”
Father dutifully did not move any closer, but there was the crackle of alchemy and Al’s chest cavity opened of its own accord, revealing May curled up inside. Ed gave her a hand out and she glared at Father.
“Hmm. An interesting stowaway for sure, but ultimately of no use or interest.”
Ed clapped, ready to defend May to the last, although he had no idea quite how he would do it when Father could perform alchemy merely by thinking.
Before Father could do anything, however, there was a bright crack of alchemic lightning and a heavy thud, everyone’s attention immediately being drawn to the centre of the room, where two figures had just landed in an ungainly heap. One of them got shakily to their feet, and Ed recognised a very battered-looking Patience.
“I think I speak for everyone when I say let’s never do that again ever. You all right, Colonel?”
Ed’s blood ran cold and he raced across the floor with Teacher towards the colonel, who hadn’t managed to get further than all fours. Mustang’s nose was streaming blood, and Ed dreaded to think what Truth might have taken from him at the gate, even more so when he knew that Mustang would never have performed human transmutation willingly.
“Ok, that’s not good.” Patience’s flippant attitude dropped and they crouched down beside Mustang again, fishing in a pocket and coming up with a handkerchief. “Right, lean forward, can you still see?”
There was a nasal affirmative; at least Mustang was still conscious and coherent so there was some hope that it wasn’t his brain pouring out of his nostrils. Ed noticed that his hands were injured too, blood on his slashed gloves that had not come from his nose. He chilled further when he realised that meant Mustang would not be able to perform flame alchemy.
“Ed, we've got this, you get back to Al and May,” Teacher said.
“It’s almost time,” Patience agreed. “He’ll start as soon as Al and Hohenheim are conscious.”
Across the room, Ed could see Hohenheim beginning to stir and pick himself off the ground. Maybe if Al stayed out of it just a little while longer, they could do something, maybe…
There was a metallic ringing sound in his ears, and he knew from May’s sudden pained expression that something had shifted. He clapped his hands together, but he couldn’t feel the alchemy. He was powerless.
The sky was almost full dark outside now, it was nearly time.
Al suddenly sat bolt upright with a gasp and Ed ran over to him.
“Al! Are you ok?”
“Ed? What’s happening? Where are we?” He patted his chest frantically. “Where’s May, she was in my armour, did she get left behind?”
“I’m here Alphonse.” May patted his hand, trying to smile and put a brave face on it, but Ed could see just how scared she was.
Al gave a sigh of relief and looked around the room. “Where are we?”
“This is the very top of Central Command.” Ed nodded towards their father. “Where the country is run from.”
Father just smiled. Everyone was conscious now, and he had all five sacrifices ready and waiting, powerless to do anything to stop him. All of the parts of his plan were in place.
“Now that we’re all here and all awake, I think that it’s time to begin.”
The sun faded from view completely as Father pressed his hands together, and shadows began to snake rapidly across the floor from his feet, grabbing Ed and Al before either of them could dodge out of the way and wrapping around them to immobilise them before throwing them out to the corners of the room, pulling them down onto the ground.
“Is this Pride?”
“No.” Hohenheim, evidently still groggy, was similarly restrained, and Ed could see that Teacher and the colonel were getting the same treatment. Patience was unaffected, and they grabbed May out of the shadow’s path, carrying her to the very edge of the room as the sacrifices were positioned onto the points of a huge transmutation circle. “No, this is Homunculus’s true form. He created Pride in his own image.”
Ed looked on in horror as his father’s body began to melt and disintegrate into shadow, a mass of eyes and teeth just like Pride had been but so much worse.
Then there was only blinding pain and oblivion as the Promised Day began in earnest.
X
“Edward? Edward, are you all right?”
Ed forced his eyes open; every nerve felt like he’d been squished through a laundry mangle five times over, but he had to know what was happening, he had to see for himself. Hohenheim was crouched beside him, holding out a hand. Across the room, Al was sitting up too, with May fussing over him, and he could see Izumi and Mustang getting to their feet as well. At least Mustang’s nose seemed to have stopped bleeding now.
He really didn’t want to look at the centre of the room, but his eyes were drawn to the throne nonetheless. Father was sitting there again, at least, Ed assumed it was him. He’d regained his physical form but lost about two decades from his original appearance, now looking like a young man, although his cold, arrogant expression remained the same.
“Hohenheim, is that what you looked like when you were younger?” Patience asked.
Hohenheim glanced over at Father as he helped Ed back to his feet, the others all coming over and congregating around them. Right now safety in numbers was probably their only chance.
“Yes.”
“Wow. You were really very pretty, you know.”
“Patience, much as I love your compliments, now’s not the time.”
“You’re absolutely right and good grief!”
Father’s form appeared to shift before their very eyes, morphing out of solid form and into something more resembling the true many-eyed, many-toothed shadow form before reforming back into the youthful appearance, but he still seemed unable to hold the form, as if all the souls now inside him were bubbling under the surface, squirming to get out of their new prison.
“I take it back, you were definitely not pretty.” Patience just looked on, agog. “What the everloving heck is going on?”
Ed couldn’t explain it, and from the look on Father’s face, he couldn’t explain it either.
“My failsafe.” Hohenheim’s expression was grim, but there was nonetheless a note of triumph in his voice, and as he went on to explain what he had been doing for the past few years, Ed had to agree that the triumph was definitely deserved. Gradually laying down souls in the ground to counteract Father’s nationwide circle using the shape of the umbra, he could reverse what Father had just done without any conscious intervention on his own part.
The expression of utter rage on Father’s face as he realised that it had all been for nothing and he could not hold onto those millions of souls would have been a delight to behold had the circumstances not been so dire.
He could not keep hold of the souls much longer, not when Hohenheim’s alchemy had activated and was working of its own accord. There was a shriek of alchemic power and the sound of thousands upon thousands of souls screaming as they poured out of him and back towards their bodies, and Ed allowed himself a sigh of relief. Even if they couldn’t defeat Father and fell at this last hurdle, their friends outside weren’t dead. They’d managed to stop that, at least.
Now that Father did not have the power of the souls inside him, though… How would he hold onto the full, unmitigated power of Truth?
Ed ducked on instinct as a blast of pure alchemic energy flew across the room towards them, even though he knew it would probably be a useless defence. He clapped but there was still nothing doing. Scar must not have been able to set the counter-circle in place yet, and he was counting down the seconds until he felt it come back to him.
Right now he was powerless, and so were Al, Teacher and Mustang. It was up to May and Hohenheim to save them all from this madman.
They were doing the best they could, May keeping the room steady around them whilst Hohenheim held back Father’s continued attack. Ed could see his hands disintegrating down to the bone and reforming with the crackle of the Philosopher’s Stone.
At last the sustained attack stopped as suddenly as it had started, and as the lightning finally faded and Hohenheim and May could get their breath back, Ed could see why Father had stopped. Even though the souls of Amestris had been released, Father was still unable to keep his human shape, shifting and disintegrating and healing on a constant loop.
He gave a roar of rage, going for Hohenheim again.
“What have you done?”
“For once, this one’s not my fault.” Hohenheim deflected the blow before it could connect but it sent him off balance, Ed and Al both shot forward to prop him up. “I have as little idea of what’s happening as you do. Unless…” He glanced behind him at Patience, who was checking on Mustang. “Unless your five sacrifices were only four. If the alchemist doesn’t pay a toll then they never see the truth, and if they never see the truth, then they’re useless to you. With only four sacrifices, the power would not settle properly.”
Mustang had come through with Patience. Patience had a stable Philosopher’s Stone at their core. Patience’s Stone had paid the toll instead of Mustang.
Father had consumed God, but now it seemed that God was trying to consume him instead.
He was still shifting and changing form as he continued to rage, and Hohenheim could not hold back the searing alchemy at the same time as stopping the punch to his gut, Father trying to siphon out the souls within him to bolster his own Philosopher’s Stone even as he kept trying to go for the others that Hohenheim was defending.
Ed was powerless to do anything except watch.
X
Scar let Chastity and Chary all but drag him into the middle of the chamber, and he slammed his hands down against the complex array that had been hidden in his brother’s notebooks.
Bright white lightning flared out, and he took a moment to appreciate a job well done before allowing himself to pass out from the blood loss.
X
Ed felt the metallic ringing sound again, and he clapped on instinct, hearing the crack of alchemy and smelling the ozone, the tectonic energy practically singing in his veins. The rush of power was intoxicating almost, not just the ability to perform alchemy again, but the sheer force of it, the like of which he had never felt before. The layer of Philosopher’s Stone under the earth had not just nullified his alchemy whilst Father had it active, it had been dampening the effects for all the time that he had been using it.
Ed slammed his hands down on the ground, destroying the floor into an explosion of concrete, stone and timber, shards flying and impaling Father, sending him flying and cutting him off from Hohenheim, who collapsed onto his knees with a groan of exertion. Teacher too was on the offensive, alchemy ringing out and mangling the floor even more as she pummelled Father.
Ed was back, and he was angry, and he was going to beat this Bearded Bastard to within an inch of his pathetic life, because he had just killed everyone in Amestris, because he thought that he could be God, and because, above all else…
“You killed my mom!”
Al needed no prompting to get into the fray, working in tandem with May’s flying kunai as she did what she could as well to defend Mustang and Hohenheim, Patience darting in between the flying alchemy looking for any opportunity to land a physical blow.
Even as they all threw everything they had at him, though, Ed knew that they would end up fighting a losing battle. Although Father was nowhere near as powerful as he could have been had he held the full power of Truth, he still had far more power than all of the rest of them, and he would never hold back, not when he had nothing to lose like this. Ed could see him draw in his power, and a massive blast of lightning ricocheted around the room, sending spots dancing in front of Ed’s eyes.
For a moment he was certain that he was dead, but then Hohenheim was back on his feet and coming between them, and Patience was pushing Mustang and Teacher down out of the radius, and Al’s armoured body was steadfastly taking the blast to protect Ed and May as much as he could as they scrabbled back against the far wall and realised there was nowhere left to run…
The light faded. Ed watched in horror as Father tossed Hohenheim aside like a ragdoll and Teacher hauled herself up to go and check on him, winded and weakened from the blast. Al’s armour was wrecked and almost in pieces. Patience was flat on their back, Philosopher’s Stone sparking as they healed from whatever damage the blast had caused them. May was already exhausted from the strain of holding everything together, struggling to get back on her feet. Mustang was still covered in blood and still couldn’t transmute.
Father was coming towards Ed.
As he looked at the scorch marks on the wall next to him, a hair’s breadth from where he was pressed up against the stone, Ed realised something very fundamental and terrifying.
His arm was gone. His arm was gone, smashed to smithereens even more effectively than it had been during that first fight with Scar, and like that first fight with Scar, Ed could feel the panic begin to course through his veins, because he had no defence now, and he had no alchemy, and because this monstrosity with the power of a god had wiped the floor with everyone else. This time there would be no Patience jumping in at the last minute to buy him time before the military arrived.
The military would not arrive. No one else was coming, no one else could come, it was all down to those of them in this room, and there was nothing any of them could do right now.
Father was still coming towards Ed.
He felt the soft whoosh of moving air beside him, and glanced to see May’s kunai in a perfect formation around his shoulder stump.
No. No, no, anything but that. No.
“ALPHONSE!”
The light was blinding and the pain was searing white hot.
But his arm was back. Barely more than skin and bone, the nails long and cracked and worn, but it was an arm and a hand that he had not had before, and right now, Ed could feel nothing but rage, alchemy forgotten as he pushed himself back onto his feet and stood to face the flickering thing coming towards him, clapping and smacking and sending shards flying, before punching out with both fists and thrashing the grotesque monster, landing blow after blow in the hope of easing some of his pain by causing as much as possible to his father. You killed my mom and you took my brother from me, and I will make you HURT.
He was weakening, Ed could see that from the way the alchemic lightning was flickering around him constantly now, expending all of the souls in the Stone at a phenomenal rate just to try and keep his form stable as he struggled to contain all the power of god within an imperfect vessel. He would not contain it much longer, he could not, as long as Ed just kept forcing him to use the Stone to heal as well as to keep himself together, he would fail, he had to fail, Ed had to win, this thing could not continue to exist as it did, it was already breaking down and rebuilding…
The thing that had once been father staggered away from him, losing form and function with every passing second, and Ed landed a final blow to the head before sinking down onto his knees, winded. Please let that be enough. Please let it all be over. The sheer, uncontrollable rage that he felt was beginning to ebb. He was so tired, and he was in so much pain, and so bereft at the knowledge that Al was gone now.
The homunculus gave a final eerie scream, thousands of voices all crying out at the same time, before it began to implode in on itself, hundreds of red souls escaping and vanishing into the atmosphere through the smashed out windows as the physical form shrank down and dwindled until it was just a ball of smoke.
“Hohenheim!” It was such a small voice, like a child almost, begging. “Hohenheim, please!”
Hohenheim shook his head sadly, and then the smoke ball was gone.
It was all over.
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sooooo.....im super excited to have my first nendroid, and i might be delirious but im glad it would be kuroo lmao
#i might be in the midst of kuroo loving hours#fine. i'll admit it. i adore kuroo#finally splurged for once and caved#but this kuroo is for my bestie but since im also in quarantine he gotta stay with me for a bit#god i don't want to keep him w me but im growing more and more attached shit#the other nendroid option would have been gojo so im not as keen lmao#i bought gojo purely so i could resell him later at a higher price im so awful#like forget buying gold and selling it later get a gojo nendroid instead#so im trying to not be as attached and just...give it to my friend for their birthday#the thing is though uhm they moved far away so im like?? oof#they're also going to stay there for a longer period and i have no idea what im exactly doing with my future (like i do butalsoanythinggoes#still i don't want to keep too many things as i plan to unhaul a lot of books and donate clothes cuz i have too many stuff#i might move again soon if all goes according to plan and its within a year#and i don't want my family just having so much of my stuff? like i hope to take most of my things w me anyways to move#and i don't like lugging a lot of cargo w/ me across country#as much as possible all can be fit in one plane ride back.#(i know that's virtually impossible but again; i want to be able to be ready to LEAVE)#i also don't want to stay for longer period of time over there either#like enough essentials to go by really#so nothing big like a shit ton of books i have#i'll probs keep my reference books back home still but even THEN you know?#im probs gonna start investing more on digital storage and video games xD#not much on physical books either#omfg please disregard this im just ranting at this point
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The Dancer in the Moonlight - Dracule Mihawk x Female OC/Reader (N.S.F.W)
hello, it's been 84 years... but i'm here to update this fanfic uwu
warnings: alcohol
word count: 3k
ao3, spirit (português)
if you are a new reader, you can find the first chapter here and welcome, i hope you enjoy it! to the older readers, i hope you forgive me for the late update and keep interested :( but the next chapter will be coming up sooner than this one and will be nsfw!
but, have a good read, and comments are greatly welcome and sorry for any mistake!!! <3
A legend was heard over the seas and on land about an event that changed the lunar cycle of an entire island. According to what was said, on a night of strong storm, a woman goes into labor at sea, alone, in a small sailing boat. Right after the first baby cry, the waves stop and the moon that lit up behind dense clouds begins to make room for the biggest star. Astonished, the island's inhabitants watch the postpartum woman return safely with the baby in her arms, while trying to understand how someone could survive in a small boat in the middle of a storm at sea, as they have never witnessed such a phenomenon. In addition to the miraculous birth, they also saw the sun entering the moon's front, leaving them even more open-mouthed. The most emotional ones say that the eclipse happened because the baby would be the “Heir of the Moon”, and the Sun was the first guest to visit her at her birth. And even within the legend, from that moment on, the location of the island simply disappeared from all compasses, preventing people from going after the truth, thus putting the child's safety at risk, as it was graced by a strange power coming from the Moon, and could attract a lot of malicious people. However, with the passage of time, the legend fell into the oblivion of adults and became just a story for children.
Even though there is no evidence as to the veracity of the correlation with the legendary island, as it is no more than a fictional story, there is actually an island named Gesshoku¹, which is well known for producing the best wines, and many believe that this one island is the same one present in the story and the speculation comes from the suggestive name that surrounds the natural satellite – so present in the legend – and the fact that it does not appear in any compass.
However, although it seemed complicated to go there, it is not difficult to find pirates who have visited Gesshoku Island, and it is said to be located on the edge of the Grand Line, at a point where the ocean waters are treacherous, making many vessels diverted to the Calm Belt, making the adventure extremely dangerous.
Regardless of what is real or fiction, whether there is any heir to the Moon with strange powers or not, I went to Gesshoku Island just for the wine.
Contrary to all the rumors surrounding arriving on the island at the risk of being thrown to a stationary place and loaded with kings of the seas, my trip was smooth, and I got there without any harm.
The first thing I noticed upon arriving was the hospitality of the locals. Everyone always with smiles on their faces ready to welcome each foreigner who docked their boats and ships in the port. With me it was no different, something that was not always the case as I was usually received by crossed and contemptuous looks. Still, I left my boat moored in a strategic, remote corner, always on the lookout in case something went wrong along the way.
I went there with the script already decided. First I would look for an inn to stay in, and leave my little luggage and soon after I would go to a winery to learn more about wine making and only then would I go out in search of information about the place and its customs. However, the energy of the island, which I hadn't identified right away, meant that plans were all put aside so that fate would define each visitor's itinerary. I was no exception.
The first sign that my itinerary was not going to work was when all the inns and hotels were full, I only got a place very far from the central area, which made me frustrated, but the room was clean, spacious and quiet, so I stayed right there. The second sign was that the wineries were closed due to a pest that had spread to almost all the vines, resulting in a considerable reduction in the production of wines.
Maybe I should have checked out of the inn at that moment, but I insisted, because the trip, although calm, had been long and I wouldn't waste money and time like that.
Resigned, I stopped in front of a bar and for a quick glance I saw a rather presentable cellar. I entered. And it was in this bar that I would come to know the lady of my life and the one responsible for my misfortune, even if she wasn't aware of it at that point.
♚♛
I was just sipping the wine, alert enough not to be caught off guard, but not enough to pay attention to the unrestrained in and out of the bar. I just wanted to relax and enjoy the moment of peace presented to myself after so many setbacks. However, my peace was shaken when, in a fraction of a second, and in the rare glances I gave the establishment's door, my eyes caught the figure of a woman who entered the place. She would be just another random customer that would leave my mind the instant she was no longer within sight of my eyes if it weren't for her imposing way of carrying herself. Something about her made my eyes nab at her image, maybe it was the elegant way of tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, or the almost sensual way of crossing her legs – quite attractive, by the way –, and straightening her posture as she sat in the front chair at the counter after ordering.
It was involuntary the way I followed her every gesture with my eyes. I can't explain it, but I just couldn't take my eyes off that woman. She chatted amiably with the bartender, like good old friends, and my curiosity and desire to get closer to her only grew as she tilted her head back to laugh at something the man had said to her. She was unusually different from other women, who carried themselves in a restrained manner, always hiding their mouths with their hands when they laughed. But that stranger didn't seem to care what others might say, she acted spontaneously, in such a way that it would be impossible not to notice her. Despite the flashy aura emanating from her, I seemed to be the only one affected there. I reined in my instincts and turned my attention to my wine, which no longer tasted so good, still intrigued that I had been so uneasy in the presence of this strange lady.
Though I tried not to look at her too much, I still wasn't able to contain the urge to take a few furtive glances in the direction she was sitting and talking to the attendant, condemning me for acting like a fool because she didn't seem to have the same interest in me, since she hadn't even looked at where I was, as her friend had sometimes done.
But to my surprise, before I could leave my seat to settle my bill, she was quicker to get up, still looking at the bartender, and pointing to a bottle of wine that was in a prominent place, which was one of those that should be opened on very special occasions. Which seemed to be the case with her, since she said out loud – too loud – that this was a special night and that she wouldn't be tasting the wine alone. After that, she straightened her robes before grabbing the bottle and leaving the bar, this time holding my gaze with those unreadable eyes.
I was never a man to prioritize dating – that's not exactly the right word to describe my relationships with the opposite gender, although I kept my sex life active as much as possible. I've also never been stubborn about moving mountains to get someone. I have always been objective and valued for mutual interest. When I had the need to indulge myself sexually with a woman, I specifically went out looking for it. However, the instant that mysterious lady entered the same bar I was in, my focus completely changed. I felt an itch grow in my lower belly and a restlessness took possession of my being.
After she left the establishment with that bottle of wine, her words began to echo in my mind with an undertone of reproach to my fixation. Surely she would have a boyfriend or even be married, I figured. So I put it in the back of my mind, in a place with difficult access, and headed towards the inn to take a shower and then decide to go back to my house. This island had already brought me enough trouble and I wasn't about to face another one.
And once again something stopped my plans.
Along the way, I heard the voices of three children whispering to each other, as if they were deciding who would approach someone. When I get angry and turn around to tell the three of them to shut up, my eyes lock on the tiny figure of a girl of about nine or ten years old, and I completely forget the reprimand for being amazed at the child's stark resemblance to the woman from the bar.
"Hello you!!" she says in a small voice, forcing a sympathetic smile. “Today there's going to be a festival here, can you attend…?”, she tried to formulate sentences while nervously gesturing with her hands, which were holding a crumpled piece of paper. “Here! It's tonight, don't go away because there will be good wine!” she said before throwing the crumpled paper near my feet, which I assumed was so I could pick it up and read it, and run off with the other two boys who were with her. In the distance I could hear them questioning what their sister had seen in a man so terrifying that he had made her fall in love.
I would have ignored the paper if I hadn't overheard such a conversation. So I picked it up and stuffed it into my pocket and headed to the inn, this time succeeding in my goal.
♚♛
After my shower, I rested in the lounging chair while reading a book I had picked up in the small library of the inn where I talked about the island. A curious thing was the value they placed on their customs and pride in their local culture.
Although focused on reading, my mind diverged on how interesting was the existing variety of children's books about the child "Heir of the Moon" in all ways, illustrated, in comic book form, short stories, lullabies and etc., which made me wonder if Gesshoku Island couldn't really be home to such a legend.
But that aside, I finished reading the book and intended to take it back to the library. The piece of paper given to me by the child earlier fell with a photo of one of my overcoat pockets as soon as I picked it up. This time I paid attention to it. It was a pamphlet about the festival and information, no biggie. However, the possibility that that woman was there crossed my mind, and this idea only intensified when I noticed that the photo that had fallen next to the brochure, which I deduced had been purposely placed there, was of a young woman with unreadable eyes, the same ones that met mine at the bar.
Maybe a festival wasn't such a bad thing. I was there for the distraction, after all. With that in mind, I gained the inn hallway and headed toward the library.
♚♛
When the sun was already fading over the horizon, from the window of the room I was staying in, I could see a crowd taking on an increasingly voluminous shape. The winemakers were already preparing to open the best wines from their respective cellars to offer their customers and also juices for those who were not old enough to drink alcoholic beverages.
The festival took place once a year, from what I've read about the island's culture, and there was no specific day, just so that any obstacles would not prevent the event from happening – such as the last one in which a plague spread through the winery –, and so that the strangers present would not return home without knowing the most valuable thing the island could offer.
I stayed on the porch just as an observer, I wasn't in the mood to face that crowd of people, although I wanted to taste a good wine, I knew that place was exceptional for that. So I preferred to wait patiently for the right time and also when the excitement of the beginning of the party calmed down a little. Furthermore, the best wines would be the last to be opened, as it was a way of holding as many people as possible.
Between glances at the movement below, I caught the moment when the three children from earlier appeared in the crowd. With the same energy, but much more excited. Even though I was a considerable distance away, I could see them passing each booth to look at the treats while a young woman approached them to pay for what they ordered. And the lady was the same one from the bar, as I thought.
And that was my cue for me to enjoy the festival too.
Lucky for me, people were too busy enjoying the festivities and entertaining the festival's attractions. I was one more among so many people, and so I went unnoticed by any enemies who were there. With this feeling of tranquility, I was also able to enjoy it in my own way, in a more remote location.
After a while there, I was able to feel much more at ease. The island's atmosphere and energy were welcoming and made anyone feel at home. Maybe it was the way the locals treated the outsiders, with a lot of sympathy and smiles, or maybe it was the wine I had drunk but any irritation caused by the adversities throughout the day seemed to have completely disappeared and I tasted of a tranquility that only then I felt when I was in my house.
After just watching the coming and going of people, between sips of wine and another, my eyes caught the moment when a cluster of people formed around an enigmatic figure of a woman. Before I could think too hard or try to figure out her identity, the dancer began a shy, slow dance. The restrained gestures were encouraged by the small audience around her and they began to create a firmer and more precise form. The way that woman was gesturing was familiar to me, but I didn't try to remember as I wanted to watch it. I must admit that I carry a fascination with dancing with me, although I've never talked about it with anyone. It's really interesting to see how someone manages to use their body to express themselves, which was the case in the middle of the festival. The dancer in question seemed to have mastered the art of dancing and was in full control of every member of her body, as the dance had steps that only someone with a lot of training could reproduce, and these were performed with such skill that they looked as smooth as a feather. .
As I was far away, almost hidden in the dimness, the dancing woman had her back to me, so I only had a view of her back, which was covered in light, thin fabrics that reminded her of veils and that hid her body curves. But the feeling of familiarity only increased as the dance progressed to a climax, and at that moment the person turned and as if it were predestined, our eyes met and it was as if everything had cleared: it was the girl from the bar.
Even though her eyes were covered by a kind of transparent mask, I would have recognized them from yards away. And the moment she noticed my presence, her movements abruptly changed. If before they were firm and precise, now they seemed much looser and more sensual. The dance took another turn and my sanity was almost taken with it.
The dancer did not lose focus as she changed the tone of her dance, quite the contrary, the transition was made so smoothly that it was not noticeable. Still hidden in my personal space almost in darkness, my eyes followed her every movement of her hips and my mind immersed in nasty thoughts. Her silhouette wasn't well defined due to her fabrics, but that didn't stop me from tracing her in my imagination. She used her hands too, with her eyes locked on mine, gesturing as if inviting me to join her, and as soon as she changed direction, breaking our eye contact, and unpretentiously she moved and the fabrics fluttered so that I got a glimpse of her curves for milliseconds, but enough to take my breath away. She really knew what she was doing and used all her weapons to get what she wanted. I just let myself go.
However, her dancing not only caught my attention, but also some pirates present there, who began to direct her obscene words, which she didn't seem to hear, as she didn't change her way of dancing for even a second. I continued as a passive spectator, just watching the unfolding of the event, she continued the dance and I kept my attention on her, and the pirates too, until the point came that one of them dared to invade the dancer's personal space and from that what unfolded was very fast: a very loud popping noise and the power outage that lasted for less than thirty seconds, but when everything lit up again, the dancer was no longer on her stage and in her place only one purple pink smoke poured from the floor. It was a cheap trick, but it was effective because the pirates were like dizzy cockroaches trying to figure out where the woman had gone.
She had come towards me, I just felt her presence sneak past me leaving a trail of soft perfume and a touch on my hand causing a new shiver down my spine, out of the corner of my eye I saw her disappearing once and for all into the darkness.
Still a little dizzy from the alcohol, but much more sober than before, I made my way to the inn room where I would check-out.
I made the journey slowly, packed my things and took a new shower to chase away any traces of drunkenness and left the place after paying off the bill and headed towards the place where my boat was moored, not without first searching all the places in search of the woman who had disturbed my mind all day, not finding her. Resigned, I decided to leave.
I unhitched it and advanced the boat towards the ocean that would take me back home, but before I could make my way home I saw her finally. This time she was sitting on the dock, as if waiting for someone, and unlike the baggy clothes that hid her curves, she now wore a tight red dress, fully defining her voluptuous figure. Beside her was the bottle of wine she'd picked up earlier at the bar and two crystal glasses. I risked walking past her, and I didn't have to do anything to get her attention, because as soon as she looked at me and gave me a crystalline smile. Seeing her up close, she looked even more beautiful.
We didn't say anything, as if we understood each other mutely, she held out the wine and glasses to me and I picked them up and set them down in a corner of the boat and then it was time to put her there. I pulled her around the waist and now she was much closer to me and I was now able to see every detail of her face. As beautiful as the full moon that illuminated the entire island imposingly.
#mihawk x you#mihawk x reader#mihawk imagine#op boys imagine#one piece#dracule mihawk#one piece mihawk#mihawk x oc#hawkeye mihawk#lunar eclipse part 2#lunar eclipse chapter 2#one piece imagine#mihawk x y/n
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A boring game. (Iruka x Kakashi)
Rating: T
Summary: In which Kakashi thinks spin the bottle is a very boring game...until the bottle lands on Iruka.
A/N: Written for KakaIru Month ( @kakairu-fest ) Day 18 Prompt: Games
ao3 link
“So,” Anko exclaims, victoriously holding up an empty bottle of sake, “Who wants to play spin the bottle.”
Her suggestion is met with excited cheers, making Kakashi frown – he’s never heard of this game before.
“What’s spin the bottle?” he asks.
Obito, sitting next to him on the couch, scoffs, “Of course you wouldn’t know.”
“It’s a kissing game,” Asuma interjects amicably, taking a sip of his beer.
“A kissing game?” Kakashi lifts his eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“It goes like this – one person spins the bottle and then has to kiss whoever it lands on,” Asuma explains, as Obito lets out a deep sigh, “And then the process repeats, only now the person it landed on does the spinning.”
Kakashi looks at Asuma, confused – games are supposed to be exciting and fun, and what Asuma has just described sounds so…boring.
Why would anyone want to play that?
Kakashi had no intention of going to the party at Anko’s apartment that evening – his only plans included a training session followed by a very long nap – until he ran into Iruka at the training grounds.
“Kakashi,” Iruka smiled at him, warm and bright, “Are you going to Anko’s apartment tonight?”
Kakashi vaguely remembered Rin mentioning something about Anko throwing a party.
“I don’t think so,” he shrugged, “I was hoping to catch up on some sleep.”
“Oh, come on,” Iruka insisted, “It’ll be fun.”
Kakashi wanted to refuse – but the hopeful look in Iruka’s eyes and his bright smile stopped him. Kakashi could never say “no” to Iruka when he looked at him like that - and, if he were honest with himself, it was becoming a problem. It was a miracle that other ANBU haven’t caught up on how Iruka managed to get away with his pranks any time Kakashi was on duty.
“I just can’t seem to say “no” to the kid,” Kakashi complained to Rin once, hoping that she’ll help him understand what was going on with him – Rin was good with things like that – but she just chuckled pointedly.
“Are you going to play?” Asuma’s voice distracts Kakashi from his thoughts.
“Huh?” Kakashi replies, startled, “Ah, no – you go ahead and have fun.”
Asuma and Obito get up from the couch to join a circle of people sitting on the living room floor. Kakashi’s not surprised – it was hardly a secret that Asuma was utterly smitten with Kurenai and Obito with Rin, and both of them are already in the circle.
Asuma doesn’t need this silly game, Kakashi smirks, watching his friends sit down, Kurenai would probably kiss him if he asked. But Obito – Obito needs all the help he can get.
An unfamiliar, cold feeling uncoils in his chest when he sees Iruka join the players. Iruka glances around, then lifts his head and meets Kakashi’s gaze. There’s a question in his eyes, and Kakashi knows that if he looks too long, he might give in – but the game is stupid and boring and not something he would ever play - so Kakashi forces himself to look away.
Kakashi’s not the only one who isn’t playing. Shisui and Itachi Uchiha remain seated on the windowsill they’ve claimed earlier that evening, and Kakashi’s hardly surprised. The relationship between them has been an open secret for a while, and, given how deep the feelings ran, Kakashi fully expected the two to elope as soon as Itachi turned sixteen. Which, according to Obito, would inevitably lead to all kinds of scandals and drama within the clan, but Kakashi has long understood that any matter involving an Uchiha had no chance of staying drama-free.
Ibiki and Aoba abstain as well. The two haven’t moved from their places on the other couch, and it’s evident to Kakashi that they have decided that their time’s better spent drinking than playing silly games.
A wise decision, Kakashi thinks, looking back to the people sitting on the floor.
The game starts – and it’s as dull as Kakashi had expected.
He watches Anko kiss Hayate, who kisses Raido, who gets to kiss Rin.
How unfortunate for Obito, Kakashi thinks distantly.
Rin spins the bottle, and it lands on Asuma, who gives her a quick peck on the lips before spinning the bottle himself – it lands on Shizune.
Kakashi can barely suppress a yawn. Iruka was right, the party was fun – at least until everyone started playing this stupid game – but now exhaustion is catching up with him. He cannot help but feel utterly bored…
…Until Genma spins the bottle and it lands on Iruka.
He watches as Genma places his hand on Iruka’s cheek, then slowly leans closer, and, suddenly, Kakashi feels a lump in his throat. He doesn’t want to see this, and yet he cannot look away. Genma kisses Iruka then – slowly, eagerly, burying his fingers in his hair to pull him closer. Just the way Kakashi always wanted to kiss Iruka.
The thought feels like a jolt of electricity, sending a shiver down his spine, and his head spins. What’s wrong with him, why is he thinking about Iruka that way?
It’s Iruka’s turn to spin the bottle now, and Kakashi’s breath hitches in his throat as his heart skips a beat. He doesn’t want to see Iruka kissing someone else.
The bottle lands on Tenzo, who – Kakashi can swear – quickly glances back at him over his shoulder before giving Iruka the briefest and the most chaste kiss that Kakashi has seen that evening. Kakashi sighs, overcome with a feeling of relief, and, as the game carries on, prays that the bottle never lands on Iruka again.
It must have been his lucky day – mercifully, the game dies down after a few rounds.
Kakashi gets up from the couch – he realizes he needs to talk to Iruka. He doesn’t know what he will say, and he’s scared, but the feeling bubbling in his chest makes it clear that if he stays quiet any longer, he might just explode. However, before he can reach Iruka, Guy appears in his path and attempts to rope Kakashi into a drinking contest. Drinking more could give him the necessary courage, Kakashi reasons and agrees.
In hindsight, he should have realized that a drinking contest with Guy wasn’t the smartest idea. By the time he loses – with an embarrassing point difference – Kakashi is so dizzy, he can hardly walk straight. Still, there’s only one thought in his mind – he needs to talk to Iruka, but he cannot see him as he looks around the room.
Where is he? Kakashi thinks, frantically, Has he left?
By the apartment door, Kakashi runs into Rin.
“He left a few minutes ago,” somehow, Rin seems to know who he’s looking for without even asking, “You should go now – you can still catch him.”
Kakashi does just that. As he rushes down the stairs into a small alley, he sees Iruka rounding the corner to another street.
“Iruka,” Kakashi calls out.
Iruka stops, then turns around, letting Kakashi catch up to him.
“I’m sorry, Kakashi,” Iruka offers with an apologetic smile, “I didn’t know you were leaving as well, else I would have waited for you. But you seemed so engrossed into your drinking contest with Guy, so I figured you’ll stay for longer.”
“That contest was definitely more than I could handle,” Kakashi laughs awkwardly, and Iruka nods but doesn’t respond.
As they walk side by side towards Iruka’s house, the silence stretches, and Kakashi desperately tries to come up with something to say. Usually, the silence between them was comfortable, but now Kakashi feels something heavy hanging in the air.
“Thank you for convincing me to go to the party,” he starts, “It was rather fun.”
“It was,” Iruka readily agrees, “I knew you’d enjoy it – you should come out more often.”
“And that game you played looked rather interesting,” the alcohol is working its miracles because the words escape Kakashi’s lips before he can stop himself.
“Spin the bottle?” Iruka glances at him, puzzled, “It’s ok. But if you thought it was interesting, why didn’t you play?”
Kakashi looks into Iruka’s wondering eyes and feels his heart race. Since there is so much that cannot be said, he simply states, “Too many people.”
“Oh?” there is an unmistakable glint of amusement in Iruka’s eyes, “Well then, enlighten me, how many people isn’t “too many” for spin the bottle.”
“Two,” Kakashi shrugs nonchalantly, even though his own heartbeat threatens to drown him.
“Two?” Iruka laughs, “But then they won’t have anyone to kiss but each other.”
“Exactly,” Kakashi nods, then reaches out and grasps Iruka’s arm. Surprised, Iruka stops in his tracks and turns to Kakashi.
“For example, right now,” Kakashi continues, trying to hide the desperate flutter of his heart behind confident demeanor, “I think there’s a perfect number of people for a game like that.”
Heat rises in Kakashi’s cheeks as Iruka takes a step towards him.
“Oh my,” he chuckles, eyes not leaving Kakashi’s face, “What if I told you that I wouldn’t mind skipping the game part?”
Kakashi stares at him, confused until the realization dawns upon him.
Oh.
His gaze darts to Iruka’s almost indecently beautiful lips, then back to his eyes. Oh.
“Very well,” Kakashi leans closer to Iruka as one of his hands comes up to his mask.
“Do you want me to close my eyes?” Iruka asks, and Kakashi shakes his head.
“No,” Kakashi replies – he wants Iruka to see him.
Kakashi’s breath hitches in his throat as he slowly pulls down his mask, but as he sees the look on Iruka’s face, his heart soars – Iruka’s eyes are bright and full of wonder, and there’s so much indescribable tenderness in his gaze that it almost hurts.
“You are very handsome,” Iruka breathes out, closing the distance between them, “But I already knew that.”
Kakashi doesn’t remember leaning in – only the moment his lips touch Iruka’s. Though soft and featherlight at first, the kiss makes Kakashi completely dizzy, and he wraps his arms around Iruka’s waist, pulling him closer. Heat rises in Kakashi’s chest and spreads through his body as Iruka deepens the kiss, tangling his fingers in Kakashi’s hair. Iruka’s lips are so eager against his, so full of ardent hunger, and Kakashi lets himself get lost in the sensations.
If this was the last thing that happened to him, he knows he’d die a happy man.
To Kakashi’s chagrin, the kiss ends far too soon, but, as they pull away, flushed and breathless, he cannot help but smile – Iruka’s quite the sight with deep blush blooming on his cheeks, his hair tousled, and his lips swollen from their kisses.
“That was…” Kakashi breathes out, lost for words.
“Yeah,” Iruka chuckles, pressing his forehead into Kakashi’s shoulder.
Kakashi wraps his arms around Iruka, holding him tight.
“You know,” Iruka says, pulling away slightly, “I think you’ve convinced me – playing this game when it’s just the two of us is significantly more fun.”
Iruka’s smile – bright and warm – makes happiness bubble in Kakashi’s chest.
“Then how about we always play when it’s just the two of us?” Kakashi murmurs, leaning closer.
“I think that could be arranged,” Iruka laughs, then pulls him in for another kiss.
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Spirit Touched - Chapter 5: Nephew
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 AO3
Whoops it took me longer to update this than I planned, but it turns out that moving states takes time and effort. Hopefully I’ll be able to update every other week for the last two chapters, but we’ll have to see. In the meantime, enjoy the crew fawning over sick Zuko and a sudden appearance from a certain beloved uncle.
Again, this fic is inspired by @muffinlance‘s fic Salvage and fanart that @agent-jaselin did of it.
——————————————————————————————
It started with a sneeze, the day after they fished Zuko out of the ocean for the second time.
“Aw, you sneeze like a raccoon-kitten,” Toklo cooed. Zuko glared at him. Then sneezed again, louder. A few sparks appeared with the second sneeze. “Uh, little firebenders sneeze fire?”
“I’m not little,” Zuko growled. “But…yes.” He sneezed again. Toklo hurriedly stomped out any sparks that landed on the deck.
“This won’t end well,” Panuk said quietly.
-----
The sneeze progressed to a full-body cough, one that was so obviously agonizing it made the crewmen wince in sympathy.
“We need to follow you around with a bucket,” Aake rumbled, watching Panuk and Toklo rush to put out yet another fire. It appeared that accidentally producing flames wasn’t something reserved for sneezing. Zuko sat down on the deck, even paler than usual. He coughed again.
“That might be a good idea,” Panuk agreed, hurrying to stomp out the new sparks. Zuko let out a low groan. Aake pressed the back of his hand against Zuko’s forehead. He quickly removed it.
“You’re sick, kiddo,” he said to Zuko. His voice had more affection in it than he’d realized he had for the boy. Zuko looked up at him, eyes already glazed over with fever. “Someone better take him to the healer right away. When someone this young gets sick, it can go bad fast.”
“Come on, little brother,” Toklo said, scooping Zuko into his arms. “Wow, you’re warm.”
“No, ‘m cold,” Zuko mumbled blearily. He let out another hacking cough. Toklo carried Zuko to the infirmary while Panuk stayed behind to put out the third accidental fire of the day.
-----
As Zuko’s condition worsened further, he became less and less willing to leave his pile of furs. Eventually, he could only leave the infirmary if carried out. The crewmen checked in near constantly. At first, it was just Toklo, Panuk, and Hakoda. Then Bato. When Aake began to stop by to inquire as to the toddler’s health, Kustaa knew it was official.
Zuko had wormed his way into the heart of every crewman.
“I’m surprised by how frequently you poke your head in,” Kustaa remarked to Aake. Aake stroked Zuko’s hair.
“He reminds me so much of Sitka, especially when he’s wearing blue,” Aake said, keeping his voice soft so as to not wake up the sleeping toddler.
“All Zuko had to do to win you over was be turned into a four-year-old.”
“Hmph.”
“And don’t think that I haven’t noticed you only stop by when he’s asleep.” Kustaa smirked at Aake. “You don’t want him to know how much you’ve come to like him.” Aake rolled his eyes. “Maybe once he’s better, you can be another uncle of his.” The door to the infirmary opened.
“Come on, Kustaa. Let a man miss his son in peace,” Bato said, entering. “Aake, you’re needed on deck.”
“On my way.” Aake’s hand lingered on the crown of Zuko’s head for a moment before he got up and left.
“How is he?” Bato asked Kustaa. Kustaa sighed.
“Sick and getting sicker.”
“Any idea what it is?”
“Not yet.” Kustaa looked at Zuko. “The kid should wake up soon, and once he does, I’m going to ask a few questions about his symptoms. I’m starting to wonder if it’s something only seen in the Fire Nation.” Bato frowned, concerned.
“If it’s a Fire Nation illness, would you be able to cure it?”
“Depends on what it is. I have the instructions for treatments of a few Fire Nation maladies,” Kustaa said. “Not as many as I’d like, though.” Faint stirring came from Zuko’s pile of furs, along with a weak groan. “Are you up, nephew?”
“I’m up,” Zuko mumbled, fighting his way free. He sat up and stretched. “Did you want something, Bato?”
“I just wanted to check in on the sick little pygmy puma,” Bato replied. He ruffled Zuko’s hair. “Feeling better?”
“I’m not feeling worse.” Zuko let out a hacking cough. “Never mind. I am.” Bato raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“No sparks?”
“He hasn’t produced fire on accident for a few days now,” Kustaa said, coming over. He put the back of his hand against Zuko’s forehead. “Hmm. Your fever’s getting worse.”
“Can he firebend on purpose?” Bato asked.
“He is right here,” Zuko grumbled.
“Zuko, would you mind trying to create a small flame?” Kustaa requested. Zuko held out his hands. His brow wrinkled in concentration. The only thing emitted, however, was a weak puff of smoke. “Hmm.” Kustaa stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Bato, could you get him something to eat?”
“Will do.” Bato gently lifted Zuko. “Candy and sea prunes, right?” Kustaa frowned at him.
“Tummy hurts too much,” Zuko said blearily. “Not hungry.”
“Broth it is,” Bato said. He carried Zuko out of the infirmary. Kustaa took down his most thorough book on illnesses.
He can’t firebend…maybe that’s the symptom that will allow me to finally diagnose him.
-----
Hakoda knocked gently on the door of the infirmary.
“Come in,” said Kustaa’s calm voice. Hakoda entered, closing the door softly behind him.
“Any luck?” Hakoda asked.
“Some,” Kustaa said from his spot by Zuko’s side. He gently draped a blanket over the sleeping boy. “I’ve figured out what he has. It’s called bender’s burnout. It’s an illness only firebenders can have, caused by the bender’s inner flame being stifled.” Kustaa got up and walked over to his desk. He pulled out a book. “According to this, hypothermia or a near-drowning are the primary means by which an inner flame is stifled enough to cause bender’s burnout.” Hakoda swore softly.
“This happened because he went overboard again?” he asked. Kustaa eyed Hakoda.
“Before I identified the illness, I knew that was the cause,” Kustaa said.
“Yes, but-” Hakoda shook his head. “He didn’t get this specific illness when we fished him out the first time. Why now?”
“Apparently, bender’s burnout is most common in the very young, because their inner flames tend to be weaker. As a teenager, Zuko’s inner flame was strong enough to hold his own in a firefight. As a child, well. You’ve seen how much effort it takes him to even make sparks.”
“What’s the cure?”
“I don’t know,” Kustaa said softly. His lips flattened into a thin line. “None of my texts have information on afflictions that only affect firebenders. I was lucky to stumble across what I did: symptoms and the cause.” Zuko coughed weakly from his pile of furs. Hakoda looked over at the boy. Zuko’s already pale skin was corpse-white, his forehead shone with a thin sheen of sweat, yet he was shivering intensely. “If we hope to cure him, we’ll need to find a healer who has expertise on firebenders.”
“Where would we find one of those?”
“We could try the next port,” Kustaa said with a shrug. “People believe us when we say Zuko is a war bastard for a reason. There’s a lot of them. And where there are firebenders, there are healers who know how to treat them.”
“There’s no other way to help Zuko?” Hakoda asked softly. A long moment passed. Kustaa shook his head.
“Bender’s burnout doesn’t go away on its own. It needs to be treated. And I don’t know how.” Zuko tossed fitfully in his sleep.
“How long does he have?”
“I’m not sure,” Kustaa admitted. “But my nephew is far more stubborn than anyone else I’ve met. As long as I can continue to manage his symptoms, he should hang on until we make port again.” Hakoda walked over to Zuko. He brushed sweat-drenched hair out of the boy’s face. Zuko leaned into the gesture with a faint smile. Hakoda’s heart ached. Zuko was so young, too young.
�� “I’ll tell everyone we’re changing course. We’ll head for the nearest port.”
-----
The Akhlut finally arrived at a bustling Earth Kingdom town. Hakoda carried Zuko, buried in furs, off the ship. Kustaa followed close behind. They approached the first person they saw.
“Excuse me, but we need a healer,” Hakoda said urgently.
“Ryo is-” the man started. Kustaa stepped forward.
“We need one specializing in firebender ailments,” he said softly. The man’s eyes widened.
“I hope we can trust you,” Hakoda said. He put as much weight into the words as he could.
“Of course,” the man said. “My son’s best friend is a war bastard. The boy goes to Healer Lee, on the outskirts of town.”
“Thank you,” Hakoda said gratefully. He reached into his pockets for money. The man shook his head.
“Save your money for your…”
“Nephew,” Kustaa said.
“Save the money for him.”
“Thank you,” Hakoda repeated. Zuko let out a weak cough. “Hang in there, Nuktuk.”
-----
This town was lovely. Iroh enjoyed the friendly townspeople. But he couldn’t help being disappointed. It was yet another dead end. He had yet to find any sign of his missing nephew anywhere.
In a sea of green and brown, there was a sudden burst of blue. Iroh looked curiously at the two Water Tribe men rushing through the crowded town square. His eyes widened. They were the same men he’d seen shortly before he arrived at the North Pole. Iroh’s heart sank as he realized that one man wasn’t just carrying furs; a young boy was hidden within them.
What was the boy’s name? Nuktuk? Nuktuk looked deathly ill. Concerned for the boy’s health, Iroh followed from a safe distance. They had just exited town when Nuktuk began to thrash in his father’s arms.
“Lemme down, lemme down!” Nuktuk whined loudly. “I gotta-” Nuktuk’s father (step-father, more likely – the boy seemed to be a war bastard) hurriedly set the boy on the ground. Nuktuk stumbled forward and vomited. His father knelt next to him, rubbing his back.
“Are you okay to be carried again, Zuko?” the man asked. Iroh’s breath caught in his throat. The boy straightened. Now close enough to see him well, there was no doubt as to who the child was. Iroh would recognize his nephew anywhere, with or without the horrid scar on his face.
What have the spirits done?
“Zuko, we need to go to the healer,” said the second man. Zuko nodded. “Can the chief pick you up again?”
“I…” Zuko trailed off. He had caught sight of Iroh. Their eyes met. “Uncle!” Zuko sprinted away from the men, directly for Iroh. Iroh dropped to his knees. He held his arms out. Zuko collided with him.
“Prince Zuko,” Iroh croaked, embracing his nephew as tightly as he could. He could feel Zuko’s fever through his clothes. “Nephew, what are you doing?”
“Seeing a healer,” Zuko replied. Iroh held him out at arm’s length. Zuko’s beautiful golden eyes, normally sharp like a hawk’s, were unfocused and cloudy with fever.
“You certainly need one.”
“Excuse me?” Iroh looked up. The tribesmen had walked over. Iroh stood. He kept a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Are you really his uncle? General Iroh?”
“Yes, I am,” Iroh said. Zuko smiled at him. “I have many questions, but I think they can wait until my nephew has seen a healer.” The men looked relieved.
“That would be best, yes,” said one. “We got directions from someone in the village.” Iroh picked Zuko up. Zuko nestled against his chest.
“Lead the way,” Iroh said firmly.
-----
Iroh and the tribesmen sat outside the healer’s house. Zuko had been treated, but needed to rest for a while before the healer would let him leave.
“We should probably introduce ourselves,” one of the tribesmen said abruptly. “I am Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. My companion is our healer, Kustaa.” Healer Kustaa bowed his head.
“Why did you need to bring Zuko to a different healer, if you had one?” Iroh asked.
“I’m not well-versed in firebender ailments,” Healer Kustaa replied. Iroh hummed softly.
“By the way, thank you, General, for not attacking when you saw Zuko,” Chief Hakoda said. Iroh leaned back.
“You don’t get to be my age as a soldier unless you learn to take stock of a situation fast,” Iroh said. “The immediate concern was my nephew’s health, not you.” He chuckled softly. “Not to offend you or anything.”
“No, I understand,” Chief Hakoda said. He leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. “But I still appreciate it. To be frank, we wouldn’t have stood a chance against you.” Iroh chuckled again.
“I know. So, how did you come to have my nephew with you? I received a letter from a friend in the Northern Water Tribe telling me you had Zuko, but the letter didn’t provide many details.”
“We pulled him out of the ocean, half-dead,” Healer Kustaa said.
“Thankfully, the spirits stepped in, ensuring you rescued a young boy. If you had come across a Fire Nation teenager, you would have had a drastically different reaction.” The tribesmen looked at him, bemused. “I have seen firsthand the realities of war; I know what would have happened if you stumbled across someone old enough to be a soldier for the opposing side.”
“He wasn’t a toddler when we rescued him,” Chief Hakoda said slowly. “That particular…situation is more recent.”
“Then you are bigger men than I would have been in my days as a soldier,” Iroh said. The men exchanged a look. Clearly, they were holding something back. But Iroh knewit would be best to wait patiently for further information, rather than immediately pry. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“Well, the kid’s more endearing than he realizes,” Healer Kustaa said. “Our youngest crewmen befriended him quickly. Once he had them on his side, it was all over.” Iroh beamed.
“I’m very glad to hear that he has been working on his social skills. My nephew tends to struggle to make friends.” Iroh adjusted his seat slightly. “How long has Prince Zuko been like this?”
“A handful of months. He’s actually spent more time with us as a toddler than as a teenager,” Chief Hakoda said. “And before you ask, we don’t know why the spirits did this to him.”
“Zuko might know,” Healer Kustaa said suddenly. Chief Hakoda and Iroh looked at him. “The incident that made him fall overboard, which caused him to get so sick? He’s been talking about it in his sleep. Most of what he says is nonsense, since he’s been so feverish. But every now and then, he mumbles something about talking to a young woman in the moon.”
“The young woman…” Iroh leaned forward. “Prince Zuko wouldn’t happen to be calling her by name, would he?” Healer Kustaa raised an eyebrow.
“He’s called her Yue.”
“A Water Tribe name,” Chief Hakoda remarked.
“Yes, but also the name of the new Moon Spirit,” Iroh said. Chief Hakoda and Healer Kustaa sobered immediately.
“We heard about that,” Chief Hakoda said. “Like everyone else, we saw the moon go dark. When we crossed paths with our sister tribe, they informed us of the tragedy that happened during the Siege of the North.”
“Yes. It was most distressing,” Iroh said solemnly. “I was there.” The door of the healer’s home opened.
“He’s awake now,” Healer Lee said. Zuko toddled out of the house. “Kustaa, come inside, I’ll go over the continuation of his treatment.” Healer Kustaa nodded. He got up and followed Healer Lee inside, ruffling Zuko’s hair on his way. Zuko sat between the two men. He beamed at Iroh.
“I thought I had only dreamed that you were back,” Zuko said happily. Iroh rested the back of his hand against his nephew’s forehead. The boy was still feverish, but whatever the healer had done clearly put him on the mend.
“No, Prince Zuko, I’ve found you,” Iroh said warmly. A strange look crossed Zuko’s face. He looked down at his adorably minute feet.
“Just Zuko, Uncle,” he mumbled. Iroh hid his surprise at the request.
“If you insist, nephew.” The enormous smile was back.
“Are you going to join the ship?” Zuko chirped. His grin broadened. “You could get a fake name, too!”
“I was hoping that the Water Tribe would be kind enough to let me accompany you, yes,” Iroh said with a nod. Chief Hakoda grimaced. “Chief Hakoda, I recognize that you would not be comfortable with two firebenders aboard your ship, but-” The chief was already shaking his head.
“You seem a sensible man, General. As such, you should understand that it’s not my comfort I need to think of, but the comfort of my men. They would not want the Dragon of the West on our ship.” Iroh’s heart sunk. He bowed his head.
“Yes, I understand.”
“What? But- Uncle!” Zuko whined. Iroh put a gentle hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
“Nephew, what is right may not be what I want to do. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. What is right is that the men who have helped you so much stay comfortable. I cannot be on the ship.” He squeezed Zuko’s shoulder, his heart heavy. “And what is right is that you continue to be treated for your illness. You need to stay with Chief Hakoda, so that Healer Kustaa can take care of you.”
“But-”
“Chief Hakoda,” Iroh said abruptly. “Is your ship headed for a specific destination?”
“Yes.” Chief Hakoda eyed Iroh. “Can I trust you with it?”
“Pakku trusts him,” Zuko piped up. “I trust him. Isn’t that enough?” Chief Hakoda wavered for a moment before sighing.
“Fine. We’re headed to Chameleon Bay, to help the Earth Kingdom Army protect Ba Sing Se.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Iroh smiled at Zuko. “Maybe during my travels, I’ll stumble across a way to return you to your appropriate age.” Zuko’s eyes widened. Healer Kustaa emerged from the house.
“Come on, nephew, you need to lay down for more rest,” Healer Kustaa said, taking Zuko’s hand. Iroh tensed. “Oh.” Healer Kustaa managed a wry smile. “When he was feverish and ill shortly after we brought him on board, he mistook me for you and called me ‘uncle’. Since then, I’ve called him my nephew.”
“…I see,” Iroh said slowly. He stood. “I should leave. It will take me longer to arrive at Chameleon Bay, given I won’t be traveling by ship.”
“Before you leave,” Chief Hakoda said, standing as well, “would you please tell me what happened at the North Pole? Our sister tribe didn’t inform us of any of the specifics, just that the Avatar had been involved in the battle and that the Moon Spirit was killed and revived.”
“It may have been too painful,” Iroh said. “I am more than willing to share with you what I witnessed. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to say goodbye to my nephew.” Chief Hakoda nodded. Iroh turned to Zuko. He knelt on the ground. “Nephew…” Zuko pulled free of Healer Kustaa’s hold and rushed forward to embrace Iroh.
“I don’t want you to leave, Uncle,” he whispered. Iroh rubbed Zuko’s back.
“I know, Zuko. But remember what I said. I can’t do what I want. I must do what is right.” Iroh removed something from his pocket, an item he had been holding on to since Zuko was lost at sea. “Here.” He handed the knife to Zuko. Zuko took it from him with awe in his eyes. “Do you remember this?”
“Never give up without a fight,” Zuko said softly. Iroh smiled.
“That’s right. You are waging many battles right now, young nephew. But keep fighting.”
“I will, Uncle,” Zuko said, holding the knife close to his chest. Iroh ruffled his hair.
“Good. Then I will see you soon.” Iroh stood and watched Healer Kustaa lead his nephew away. Once Zuko was out of sight, he turned to Chief Hakoda. “I am willing to share my stories, but I would like more information as to my nephew’s stay with you in return.” Chief Hakoda nodded.
“I expected as such.” The men began to walk together. “Where would you like me to start?” Iroh sighed, glad to ask the question he’d had since he saw Zuko.
“Why is my nephew dressed like a Water Tribe child?”
-----
“Hold that pose,” Toklo instructed. Zuko wobbled slightly. “C’mon, little brother, just a bit longer!” Zuko’s legs gave out. He collapsed to the deck, coughing. “Maybe we should go back to the basics.”
“No, those katas are for babies,” Zuko snapped. He coughed again. Hakoda, who had been observing Zuko’s practice, crouched next to him.
“You’re only four and recovering from an illness. Pushing yourself right now would do more harm than good,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Once you’ve stopped coughing so much, you can move on to the more complicated forms. But for now, I agree with Toklo.” Zuko scowled.
Zuko’s treatment involved him actively practicing firebending. The healer had informed Kustaa that Zuko developed bender’s burnout in large part due to Zuko restricting his firebending to simple meditations.
“He said to me, ‘Water Tribe people might not be very educated, but that’s no excuse for making a young bender suppress his art. No matter the element, if they avoid bending, they’ll become ill,’” Kustaa vented angrily once Hakoda had returned to the ship. “I tried to tell him that the kid didn’t want to bend, but he wouldn’t hear it.”
“Zuko needs to practice firebending, then, to get better?” Hakoda asked. Kustaa nodded.
“And to stave off future bending-related illnesses. He gave me a scroll with forms for children Zuko’s age.” Kustaa handed Hakoda said scroll. “My nephew probably already knows most of these forms, but I guess we could use them as a reference to make sure he’s doing them right.”
Hakoda took the scroll from Toklo and looked over the forms for the easiest.
“Turtle-duck pose,” he instructed. Zuko scowled, but did as he was told. “Good work, kid.” Zuko’s scowl was replaced with a grin that stretched ear to ear.
Initially, Zuko had brushed off any compliments he got on his bending forms. Hakoda had a feeling that Zuko’s reaction was because he didn’t believe them. Thankfully, it only took a week for the boy to shift gears from doubt to exuberance at being told he had done a good job.
“Chief?” Bato called from his spot at the ship’s bow. Hakoda ruffled Zuko’s hair, handed the scroll back to Toklo, and walked to his second-in-command.
“What is it?” Hakoda asked. Bato handed him a spyglass silently. When Hakoda looked through it, he swore. “Fire Nation.”
“Yes.” Bato’s face darkened as he stared in the direction of the ship he’d spotted. “And they’ve definitely seen us. We won’t be able to avoid battle.”
“You’re right.” Hakoda swallowed. “Hopefully, Zuko will sleep through it.”
“He’s a light sleeper.”
“Not lately. Being sick can make you sleep like the dead.” Hakoda handed the spyglass back to Bato. “I’ll inform the crew to prepare for battle.” Hakoda looked back at Zuko. The toddler was unsteadily working through the basic firebending forms for Toklo. “And I’ll see if Kustaa can put him to bed earlier than usual, so that he misses the fight.”
-----
Zuko did sleep through the entire battle. Better than that, however, was that no one on the ship had fallen. Any blood stains or scorch marks on the deck were hurriedly scrubbed away before Zuko could see, though he did get told the day after. Like before, Zuko sat watch with a small flame in his palms.
The rest of the trip passed by without incident. Not just Hakoda, but the crew as a whole felt a swell of pride as Zuko became more confident in his bending practice, progressing from the basic steps to the intermediate ones quickly. Well, the ones considered intermediate for his age. The boy was eager to begin the advanced movements, but Hakoda felt they were still beyond his ability. Not to mention, the advanced katas seemed more likely to accidentally set the boat on fire.
“Finally!” Zuko whooped as they landed at Chameleon Bay. “I miss dry land.” Scattered chuckles sounded among the crew. Bato stopped him from rushing down the gangplank after Hakoda.
“Hold on, little warrior. Before we come ashore, the Chief needs to meet with whoever’s in charge.” Zuko cocked his head curiously at Bato.
“Isn’t Chief Hakoda in charge? I thought he was the leader of the entire Southern Fleet.”
“He is, but it’s still important to announce ourselves to the person that has been running things. Once we’ve settled in, the Chief will take over.”
“The Chief also needs to let the other men know we’ve got a Fire Nation brat on board,” Aake added. Zuko frowned at him. “Otherwise, you might get a chilly welcome.”
“I guess,” Zuko muttered, crossing his arms. Bato ruffled his hair.
“Go help Kustaa take stock of the infirmary supplies while we figure things out, okay?” Bato said. Zuko sighed and toddled off. Bato shook his head, hiding a smile. “Damn kid really weaseled his way into all of our hearts.”
“I’m taking bets on how quickly he does the same to the tribesmen already here,” Panuk drawled. “So far, no one’s put anything down on it taking any longer than a month.”
“Well, yeah, those odds are too slim,” Toklo said. “My little brother’s gonna have everyone eating out of his hand in a couple weeks at most. Especially with his lingering cough.” According to Kustaa, Zuko was no longer ill. His occasional coughs were just the result of his sickness irritating his throat.
“I agree,” Bato said. “‘Nuktuk’ has a very endearing backstory.” He looked at Panuk. “Put me down for twelve days.”
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Orphic | 04
After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.
pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)
genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff
word count: 7.6k
rating: PG-15
warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood and cleaning wounds, mentions of cannibalism (o.o)
author’s note: mMMm setting deadlines is effective but exhausting, so the pacing of this might be a bit weird? also im def not late bc it’s still sunday in some timezones so ;))
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I stared intently at the grungy nick in the otherwise spotless wall, mind racing a mile a minute.
The better half of the last hour had been spent pacing back and forth, gaze unmoving from the unconscious man in fear of missing the twitch of a finger or the flutter of an eyelash. His complete stillness persuaded me to check on his pulse frequently, glad to feel the faint, yet steady, beat beneath layers of smooth skin.
When I received a second call from my cranky saviour to inform me that he was nearly here, I forcefully sat myself down and practiced that infamous square breathing that every zen yogi swore by. By the persistent bouncing of my knee, it was evident that the yogis had failed me.
Rain was pounding down in thick sheets onto the pavement outside and at this point I was convinced the world had it out for me, using every trick in the book to further complicate this surely doomed rescue mission. Nonetheless, I optimistically hoped that the incoming storm would soon subside.
My unfortunate lips dealt with the brunt of my merciless canines, rendering the skin raw by the time a distinctive series of raps against the sturdy door caught my attention. It was the very same pattern in which I’d regularly knock on the door to the cleaning storage, craving the company of someone other than the three musketeers I’d gotten to know better than my own blood.
Although I ordinarily would be enthusiastically welcomed and greeted with nothing less than a wide, heart-shaped grin, the circumstances now were undoubtedly exceptional. Thus, the crinkle between his brows and the disgruntled glare fixed on my sheepish smile were to be expected.
Needless to say, Hoseok was not impressed.
“What the hell?” the typically friendly janitor barked out, huffing out his frustration at having his slumber disturbed. “You do know that it’s almost two in the morning right? How did you even get in here? Why couldn’t this wait for tomorrow?”
His hair stuck up in a multitude of different directions, evidently having rolled out of bed, slipped on a jacket and came to my rescue. The wrinkled, blue horse character on his pajama set eased some of my nerves at the familiarity of its nose, in the shape of Hoseok’s smile that was, understandably, nowhere to be found with the current circumstances.
I gripped the distressed male by his lithe shoulders, imploring him to slow down. “I’m not coming in tomorrow. Listen, this is gonna sound absurd but—”
His eyes drifted past my smaller form and I firmly shook at his torso to prevent him from spotting the other man. “Hey! Eyes down here.” A hint of curiosity bled through his agitated exterior when he focused on my stern exterior once more. “You can’t freak out, okay?”
Hoseok shrugged his approval, murmuring, “Yeah, I get it, directly disobeying the head researchers is pretty satisfying and all, but did you really have to drag me into this? Especially when you know I start early on Saturdays?”
At the reminder of his strict schedule, I withered marginally as I originally hadn’t intended to involve him at all. A shameful appreciation began to eat away at my conscience, grateful for his presence in spite of my outrageous request. I wouldn’t know what to do if Hoseok hadn’t come through and in my eyes, he remained an angel who was too good to be true.
“I’m sorry, I promise this is really important.” I brought my arms back to my sides, glancing down at my feet in order to organize my swirling thoughts. “I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”
What I didn’t notice while lost in my reverie was Hoseok’s rebellious stare, wandering over the injured man’s form. “What the fuck?” He gently shoved me aside, stumbling deeper into the laboratory. When he was planted by the stranger’s table, he repeated, “What the actual fuck?”
My head tipped back in exasperation, disappointed that not even my last minute backup strategy was going according to plan. “Hobi, please.”
I could practically envision the gears whirring in his head, a natural reaction considering the mutant in front of him. When he finally craned his neck back to me, he mumbled with wide eyes, “Say sike right now.”
“Stop talking for two seconds.” I groaned, marching up to position myself between the janitor and the table in an attempt to calm him down. Immediately upon noticing his trembling digits, I reached out to clasp them within my own quivering hands. “Listen, this experiment they’re conducting? From what I know, it’s all some screwed up excuse to inject animalistic characteristics of their choosing into humans. And their track records point to a lot of predator species.”
“Predators? Wha—why would they even want to create a predator-human hybrid?” Hoseok took a tiny step back and out of the fear that he would flee, I fiercely clamped down onto our conjoined limbs.
“I don’t know yet,” I faltered. “But, honestly, I couldn’t care less because of how unethical they are in their approach to this project.” At his puzzled expression I somberly gestured to the unmoving lump in the corner, willing myself to postpone any tears for a safer location.
Hoseok must have connected the dots at the midnight black shade of fur peeking out underneath the fabric matching the colour of the hybrid’s ears and tail, as his stare hardened and his breathing began to even out from the rapid pace it was at before. “I’ll need more details later on, but let’s get him out of here first.”
At his command, I retracted from Hoseok's hold, scoping out the rather barren area for something other than the masses of files and papers strewn about. “You think we can carry him together?”
Simply comparing the difference in size between the stranger and Hoseok, there was no doubt the copious, hulking mass of muscle outweighed my friend’s slimmer figure. Our combined strength would have to somehow prove formidable against his bulky body.
Hoseok’s grimace spoke volumes about his faith in that idea, although there wasn’t much of a choice considering the alarming time crunch and our limited accessibility to other parts of the laboratory. Due to my blind confidence in the ostensibly foolproof scheme I constructed, the only cameras shifted were directly located in the path from the front entrance to the changing room to the upstairs lab.
Oh, how I was regretting that naivety now.
Using an abandoned stretch of fabric that had been stuffed into one of the drawers I rummaged through earlier, I covered his immobile body with the thin cover to provide some decency and act as a layer of defence against the torrents outside.
While Hoseok stood directly behind his head, leaning forward to loop his arms underneath the hybrid’s triceps and around his chest, I grabbed each of his ankles, cradling them to my abdomen. Even with our best efforts to avoid any of his wounds, there was no way to avert the countless scratches and bruises that littered every inch of visible skin. We counted on the sanguine belief that he wasn’t conscious enough to feel any of it, reluctant to use any tranquilizers when we weren't aware of how much juice they’d already injected him with.
“On the count of three?” Hoseok asked.
With a nod, I tightened my hold and widened my stance. “One, two,” after taking a generous inhale, I heaved, “three!”
The two of us managed to maneuver the stranger down the length of the dingy hall before we were forced to gently place him onto the ground, desperate to grant our aching muscles the break they demanded. Currently, construction was being done on the elevator, which meant that the flight of stairs was the next obstacle to be tackled.
I lost the brief, but fierce, battle of rock-paper-scissors and endured the frightening prospect of marching down the stairs backwards—in the dark. All because Hoseok was unwilling to sacrifice the slightest bit of his comfort for the both of us to step sideways.
It was safe to say the stairs themselves took ten minutes to clear.
On the first floor, we were able to cross over to the main entrance in a breeze thanks to the spacious nature of the lobby. After scurrying to Hoseok’s car and laying the hybrid in the back seat, I returned to the lab to dutifully lock up the front door and jogged back to the vehicle.
Hoseok sent me a befuddled brow lift from the front seat when instead of the passenger’s side, I hesitantly stood a stride away from the driver’s door. “He’s fine, hurry up already so we can get out of here.” He motioned to the space beside him with the flick of his chin, his bed head dancing along with the movement. “It wouldn’t look too great if anyone caught us right now, especially with the man-cat knocked out cold in the back. Plus, the lab just radiates spooky vibes at night, look at my goosebumps!”
“Okay, okay, give me a second,” I grunted, opening the door to the back seat as I bowed inside to avoid a painful meeting with the roof of the vehicle. While gripping the back of the stranger’s skull with one hand and his upper back with the other, I lifted his torso and slipped inside. Tenderly, I placed his head on my lap.
“What are you doing?” Hoseok stared at me through the mirror, evidently unnerved by my proximity to the man. “He could literally wake up at any minute and there goes your throat!”
“Or he could get juggled around from your shitty driving and open his injuries again,” I countered, “which I think is a lot more likely, no?”
He scoffed, taking full offence to my jest. “Never mind. I hope he throws you out the damn window for calling my driving anything less than spectacular.”
The rush of excess blood coursing through my veins as a result of my overactive heart pounded in my head, nearly loud enough to block out the boisterous revving of the engine echoing throughout the empty lot. Tires squeaked against the pavement, jolting the hunk of metal into action as we sped away.
“Where were you thinking of leaving him?” he asked, taking a breath before mumbling, “that is, if you thought about this at all.”
“Hobi!” My jaw dropped dramatically at his not so subtle jab, shaking my head as I commented, “You’ve been hanging around Yoongi too much lately. I mean, all this sass couldn’t have come from nowhere.”
He slowed down behind the only other car in sight, flicking on his signal to turn. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not, I was just commenting on your drastic change in behaviour,” I rebutted, crossing my arms across my chest at his determination to aggravate me tonight. “For your information, I actually planned this out for weeks; who do you think got the key card to the upstairs lab, the keys to the building itself, moved all the cameras—
Despite the leather seat between us, I knew he was sporting a sly smirk, for his conceit was bleeding through his supercilious tone. “And who begged me for help halfway through this ingenious plan?”
My jaw clenched shut, astounded at his cheeky retorts. At first, I was unsure of how the relationship between the jovial custodian and the chilly facade that Yoongi donned among strangers would progress, but judging by the sheer number of occasions in which I’d walked into a room with the two chatting away—gummy smiles all around, it seemed to be advancing better than expected.
“Whatever, you came anyway.” I sank back into my seat, careful not to disturb the comatose man peacefully resting on my thighs. Hopefully he was narcotized enough to remain oblivious to the various disturbances around him and would only rouse when the sun made an appearance.
Hoseok blithely sneered, pressing harder on the pedal as he spun the steering wheel to the right. “Yeah, well it’s kind of hard not to when you claim that Hyunho’s going to sue your ass for thousands of dollars.”
“And was I wrong?” I recalled our earlier conversation, where I hadn’t yet mustered up the courage, much less the patience, to confess to the details of my crimes. In a panicked state, I simply presented the consequences which would follow Hoseok’s absence—Hyunho’s wrath.
“No, now you’re just gonna get your ass handed to you by Namjoon and Yoongi,” he countered. “But I guess you’ll save some money while you’re at it.”
Merely the thought of their reactions to my late night escapade made me want to shrivel up in a ball. “Who said I’m going to tell them?”
“You’re not telling them?” The car slowed as he gradually came to a graceful stop behind a red light, turning his torso to face me with the help of his hand on the central console. “You know better than to release the man-cat, he’ll just get caught again.”
Rolling my eyes like a petulant child being scolded, I muttered, “I’m not releasing him.”
“But you can’t deal with him on your own either!” he snapped, the lack of sleep shortening his tolerance. After a pause to regain his senses, Hoseok rapidly shook his head and twisted back to focus on the empty roads ahead.
"Listen," I gritted out between my teeth, my own temper flaring. “I think you’re forgetting that I was well aware of the fact that I would be housing some kind of animal for a while, just didn’t know he would be this big.”
“Or this dangerous? This costly?” His firm grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white as his emotions boiled over. "You’re not prepared to deal with him, I'll just take him back to my place."
A puff of air escaped my throat at his ridiculous solution, stating, "You live with your sister. There's no way she won't find out."
"Like you're any better off," he quipped, staring me down through the rearview mirror. "You live alone. If he were to do anything to you, we’d be none the wiser about it."
"Well, we can't risk anyone discovering his existence. There's no other way.” By watching the stranger’s chest rise and fall with each elongated breath, I was able to simultaneously avoid Hoseok’s prying eyes and collect my own thoughts.
While impatiently waiting for his arrival back at the lab, my mind had trudged through copious possibilities, overwhelmed with the pressure to choose the right one. Eventually, I came to the disconcerting conclusion that, be that as it may, the most secure option remained to bring him back to my place.
I reassured, "Don’t worry, I cleared out my bedroom so that there’s nothing in there that could potentially be used as a weapon. We'll secure him down, lock the door, and I'll camp out in the living room."
"Y/N, we don't have any clue what this guy is capable of,” Hoseok stressed, worry colouring his voice as he sharply gesticulated with his free hand. “Hell, look at him! He has cat ears, Y/N, and do not get me started on his tail.”
I stole a glance at the accused appendage in bewilderment, unsure of why that aspect was at the forefront of Hoseok’s concerns regarding the mutant boy. “What’s wrong with his tail?”
“My point is,” he accentuates, “we have no idea what we’re dealing with here. What if he has some kind of monstrous super strength and his diet consists of human flesh? He could probably rip right through any restraints and bam! That'll be the end of you."
I held my tongue at ridiculing his absurd speculations when some sort of man-cat hybrid was currently strewn across the back seat of Hoseok’s run-down Corolla; a dim display exposing the current, ungodly hour of the early morning.
“Do you have any better ideas?" Although my question was met with radio silence, we steadily continued on the potholed path headed away from my house. I spoke up again, "Where are you taking us?"
"We're going to Namjoon's place, and we're gonna think of a better alternative all together."
"Hoseok," I seethed, fists clenching next to my thigh. "He'll make us take him back. We're already too far in to go back now."
The car jerked violently due to the bumpy road and being suddenly reminded of the wounded boy, I shot out to grab at his thin waist in order to nail him to the seat. Despite my best efforts, crimson liquid soaked through the thin blanket and I cursed under my breath.
"I can't leave you there alone with him!"
"Please, we'll be careful." A beat passed as I greedily inhaled the fresh air flowing in through my open window, gathering ideas to negotiate. "I'll stay awake the whole time and I'll text you every hour."
Regardless of my pleas, the car kept at its incessant pace to Namjoon's apartment. Sweat began to accumulate at my temples at the unsure fate of what censure awaited me. To distract my nerves, I gripped the fabric that covered the man’s body, tugging it over his shoulders to rest just below his chin while pressing a bunch into his side in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
Past the low hum of the vehicle, a gentle utterance met my ears. I lifted my head to inquire whether the sound was merely a figment of my fatigued imagination when Hoseok repeated, "Every half hour."
My eyes widened, darting to examine his stoic expression from the rearview mirror. "Yes! Yes, yes of course. I can even do every ten minutes if that’s what you want." I shrugged my shoulders, pointing out, "I'll be up all night anyway."
"No, I'm good. Unlike some of us, I don't deserve to be punished for my crimes and would like to salvage the little sleep I can get," he declared as he performed a U-turn at a wide intersection.
My grin expanded exponentially at the change in direction. "Suit yourself."
I allowed my thoughts to clear, tracing a clear droplet on the window as it raced to engulf another, merging into one, larger globule that ran down the smooth expanse until it was out of sight. Unknowingly, I mindlessly carded my fingers through the stranger’s dampened strands; more so for my own comfort than for anyone else.
Before I knew it, we’d arrived at my quaint cottage and with the addition of another individual residing under its roof, the place seemed tinier than ever. Hoseok and I shuttled him over to my bedroom as gracefully as we possibly could, aiming to avoid whacking into any obstacles along the way.
Other than his lengthy legs knocking into two door frames, we were clear.
The second his back met the rigid mattress, we collectively released a weighty exhalation from the excessive exertion that strained both our physical and mental states. Although the chances of the stranger waking up now were low, seeing as he was out like a light throughout the whole journey, I hurried to collect the sturdy ropes that I purchased in advance.
“Ooh, you’re into some kinky shit, huh Y/N?” Hoseok quipped, taking the material from my hands.
My eyes rolled back at his stupid antics, glaring at the pleased crinkles forming next to his drooping eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Now help me tie him up, so I can kick you out of my house.”
“And what’re you gonna do to him when I leave?”
Snatching the rope that he stole from me, I shoved Hoseok to the side by pressing against his firm bicep—which definitely carried more than his fair share of the hybrid on the way here—and grumbled, “Guess If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”
Hoseok burst into a short fit of contagious laughter, invoking a couple quiet giggles that I was unsuccessful in fighting down. As he raised the stranger’s arms to the bed frame, I looped the braided, nylon material snug around each of his wrists. Along the way I checked to ensure that the restraints weren’t too tight before moving onto his ankles to repeat the process. Luckily enough, his height stretched the entire length of my minuscule bed with his feet dangling off the ledge.
“Tell me you brought more tranquilizers in case?” Hoseok asked immediately upon securing the last knot. Throughout a tedious explanation on how foolishly lax I was behaving with the hybrid, he went back to inspect my handiwork, tugging the ends of the cords closer together into a grip that nearly cut off the hybrid’s blood flow.
Over his nagging, I sneaked a victorious grin as I displayed the syringes I’d nabbed from the lab. He spent a few more minutes fiddling with various safety measures consisting of the pepper spray he stealthily retrieved from my purse, the bedroom door’s lock and an air horn that he remarkably pulled out of his coat’s pocket. Although it was questionable if the blaring sound would awaken even my closest neighbours due to the sheer distance between our houses, I didn’t dare attempt after imagining old Sangmin marching over here on his rickety cane to bark my ears off.
Refusing to bother expending effort on pondering over the rationale behind Hoseok’s little magic trick, I blithely shooed him out before any more ridiculous objects could be plucked out of his jacket.
The last straw was his finger approaching the sensitive button on said air horn. Unwilling to face the consequences of his brash actions, I slammed the front door closed behind Hoseok, the space suddenly void of his rowdy antics. I wearily blinked the drowsiness out of my eyes, the stillness and tranquility of the early hours slowed my heart rate from the fast paced, action packed night.
My sock-clad feed padded their way back to the bedroom, snatching my phone out of my black hoodie to fiddle around with an app that I discovered upon moving out. In order to relay my continued existence to my family, I scheduled texts to be sent every week, which would prove useful at this time as well. Knowing my own forgetful nature, one update to Hoseok would slip my mind, and either four, furious men would burst through every available entrance or I would have the whole police force upon my front steps in minutes.
To prevent such a disastrous event from taking place, I tampered around with the settings and added the fretting male to the list.
I halted in my tracks when faced with the mundane sight of the four walls where I spent most of my sleeping hours, not a hair out of place other than the addition of the injured hybrid on my dirtied bed. The crimson stains jolted me into action, retrieving my brand new first-aid kit and finding it hilariously ironic that the dressings were going to be used on the very same criminal that broke in to steal such supplies.
In order to fight off any cold that could have possibly slithered its way past the weak barrier draped over his body, I peeled the flimsy, sodden cover off and replaced it with a puffy comforter. Traversing through the storm that continued to rage outside definitely put a strain on his already weakened state, and his pale countenance wasn't very reassuring.
I slid the blanket down to access the sullied wound at his rib cage and grabbed a couple pads of gauze to firmly press onto the area. Thankfully, some blood had already begun to coagulate around the edges, so I didn’t have to wait too long for the trickling stream to cease. With a clean towel, I wiped the surrounding skin to get a better look at what I was dealing with, grimacing at the bruises forming galaxies across the jagged edges of ripped skin.
He was in worse shape than either Hoseok or I could have predicted. At this realization, the fleeting worry that he might succumb to the severity of his wounds grew, festering a nasty doubt in my mind.
Deciding whether to clean the laceration commenced another strife within the whirlwind of emotions inside my head, but I poured a few drops of antiseptic onto a cotton ball anyway, fearful of infection. As I tried my best to carefully dab the soaked material across his wounds, I peered up at his face to search for signs of consciousness.
My eyes involuntarily softened at the small cuts littered across his neck, travelling past his jaw and over the slopes of his hollowed cheeks to his forehead, which was partially hidden under his dark locks. When the cotton was thoroughly besmirched with a blend of bright crimson and a muddy brown, I drenched another and advanced up to other regions after the more serious lesions were taken care of.
A closer look at his sinewy torso allowed me to examine the scars scattered all around, mostly clustered around his upper arms. Absentmindedly, I wondered whether their appearances were linked to the cruel methods of the laboratory. How had he gotten within their clutches in the first place? For how long was he suffering under the justification of being an experiment?
What were they trying to accomplish with him?
My mind raced with all the different possibilities of what could have brought the hybrid into this situation in the first place, and before I knew it, I was pushing back the disheveled strands on his forehead to clean the last of his cuts. There were definitely more on his dorsal side, but I wasn’t willing to undo his restraints and flip his hefty weight over on my own. I would either wait until he woke up or ask Hoseok to stop by again after his shift.
In my current position, I was close enough to feel his warm breath fanning across my skin, observe the tiny brown mole under his lip and how utterly breathtaking this man was underneath the cuts that marred his skin. He was undoubtedly attractive at first glance, although I wasn’t able to appreciate his masculine features while under the stress of saving him.
Once every laceration in my reach had been disinfected to the best of my limited abilities, I swiftly bandaged his side again and stuck Spider-man themed band aids onto the smaller cuts in memory of the Hello Kitty ones that decorated his body earlier. I settled back on the chair, admiring my handiwork and fighting back the looming threat of dormancy that approached with every elongated blink. My head leaned back as I crossed my arms, thinking that a little snooze never hurt anyone.
I was blind to the cocoa orbs drinking in the darkness.
The bright light streaming in through the numerous cracks between my blinds prodded my eyelids apart, pupils struggling to adjust past the groggy haze of an unexpected slumber. Rather than revelling in the bountiful energy supplied by a restorative nap, an obnoxious cramp in my neck made its presence known alongside the bleak, obstinate tingle of dormancy that lingered within every tightened tendon, pulsating throughout my entire body.
Although the pain gradually ebbed away after I rolled my head around in wide semicircles, I knew from experience that the ache of sleeping in an uncomfortable position would linger.
Gold streaks were painted on the hardwood floor as a result of the sun’s harsh rays, a stark contrast to the dusk of a few hours ago. As I began to fuzzily recollect the memories from yesterday, I spotted the growing number of discrepancies between the room I’d seen before I closed my eyes and now, from the open door to the ruffled sheets, devoid of any sign of life.
Fortunately, I seemed to be in the same position, seated on the tough chair that I snoozed off in a few hours ago. However, I found it odd that it was particularly difficult to do much else than squirm around, and that was when I realized the problem lied in the nylon material tied around my wrists and ankles, binding me to the furniture.
A cold dread washed over me, much like a freezing bucket of ice being poured over my head. The hybrid escaped.
Well, at least he didn’t exact his fallacious revenge on my sleeping form.
“Awake?”
I squeaked at the whiplash that followed the movement of my head twisting a second too quickly, intent on identifying the furtive speaker. My eyes widened exponentially at locating the muscular hybrid, black ears twitching at my cry and tail swishing in curiosity. Being clad in only boxers, I shifted my gaze away out of instinct, a fiery blush overtaking my features despite having ogled the man’s ripped physique before.
It felt completely different when he was unconscious and my only intent was to treat his multitudinous wounds though.
He slowly blinked, clearly finding my astonishment puzzling with the bewilderment laced in his orbs. Waving a large palm in front of my face to get my attention on him, he calmly said, “No hurt.”
The tight rope that currently hindered my motion was definitely the same one that had been previously occupied with restraining the hybrid to the bed. Yet the very same male stood in front of me, free as a bird. “H-how did you get out?”
Instead of answering verbally, he extended his defined arms out to the side, imitating the position he was tied up in, then robustly swinging both limbs towards one another. So he broke through those thick, durable ropes with sheer strength and willpower. Comforting.
The tranquilizers laid scattered across the floor, much too far to even consider reaching them.
“Where’s your blanket?” I questioned, suppressing the tremor in my voice as I found it outrageous that my throat was still intact at this point. There was no guarantee that he wasn’t harbouring any motives to rid the world of my presence, but the fact that he wasn’t actively making any moves to rip my heart out was a good sign.
The mop of dark chestnut swayed along in the same direction that he tilted his head over to; a habit revealing an emotion that I couldn’t place on the stranger. “Warm. No like.”
His broken English revived a flurry of trepidation. I recalled the night of the break-in, the terror and hysteria that I’d buried away under the incorrect pretense that a burglar never hits the same house twice.
I didn’t know if that sentiment applied to kidnapping the criminal and using your place as his hideout, as well.
As I noisily gulped, I felt his stare dart to my esophagus and in a wild panic, my wide eyes met the doe-like curve of his own. The hybrid edged closer to my trembling form before treading past me, out of sight. I closed my eyes in preparation.
This is it. Goodbye world, it was pretty shit while it lasted.
I heard the rustling of fabric behind me and silently applauded the man for thinking of a quick and easy suffocation to reduce the amount of clean up afterwards.
His bare feet slapped against the floor, trekking over to my front again. When a couple seconds passed and none of my airways were blocked nor was there any piercing pain to be felt, I cautiously cracked an eye open to see the stranger standing there, the puffy blanket from before wrapped around his broad shoulders.
“Good now?” he inquired with a bunny-like smile.
My jaw dropped slightly as I nodded, attempting to formulate a sentence but coming up empty. The stark contrast between the brawn enveloping his body and his innocent features threw me in for a loop. This must have been part of his grand scheme to ruthlessly murder me—lulling me into a false sense of security before executing me on the spot.
Outwardly, the hybrid appeared to possess more human features than his animal counterpart, leading me to wonder which instincts ruled over the other. Was he more level-headed and rational or was he unable to suppress his bestial instincts? Did he get sudden, violent mood swings or go on occasional, bloodthirsty rampages?
The lack of knowledge I had regarding the man, who had somehow gained the upper hand through his brute strength, was worrying. A tinge of regret for not skimming through a few files on said hybrid before Hoseok’s arrival made me softly curse under my breath.
As I shifted in place, I was reminded of my own predicament. “So, uh, any chance you’ll let me go?”
With his broad grin still on full display, he made his refusal clear by shaking his head back and forth. It was worth a try. “Not fair. I tied, now you tied.”
His childish logic caught me off guard and a bark of laughter shook my stiff shoulders, marginally relaxing at the prospect that he might postpone the bloodshed for a later time. The mystery laid in how he could distinguish my harmless intentions from the head researchers’ diabolical ones. Maybe it was the lab coat?
I made a mental note to never wear my own lab coat in front of him.
A grumble snapped me out of my reverie. I observed the stranger’s startled features as he glanced down at his abdomen, then, unabashedly, back up to my face. Recalling his screams of horror back at the lab, the barbaric treatment he received there was indisputable and based on his raging stomach, I guessed that it had been a while since he’d eaten anything of substance.
Of all times, Hoseok’s ridiculous words of the hybrid’s diet consisting of human grade meat played back through my brain and jitters erupted over my limbs, wanting to please the man before he was picking his teeth with my freshly cleaned bones.
“Hungry?” I prodded, pushing other priorities to the side in favour of feeding the rumbling beast.
His dark orbs immediately lit up with pure, unadulterated glee. The hybrid gracefully tied the ends of the fabric around his neck like a cape and rounded closer to me with mirth written across every crease on his countenance.
Unsure if his giddiness was attributed to the assumption that I was offering up the meat lining my organs, I squirmed in protest, attempting to cause a ruckus in order to spur his excitement towards another source of protein in the fridge.
Not having much choice in the matter with my limited range of motion, I watched in worry as he scurried out of sight again. “Hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here and—”
Despite being prepared for his unpredictable nature, a yelp flew past my lips when I was effortlessly lifted into the air, chair and all. His forearms caged my thighs as he gripped the bottom of the seat, hot pants of air blowing onto the back of my neck from his position.
His elation was practically tangible as he flew past the open doorway and sped off through the foyer. He must have ventured deeper into the house while I was blissfully unaware, since his strides towards the kitchen were filled with nothing but confidence in every step.
Hastily, I spat out, “I’m not that delicious, trust me! My budget’s been pretty strict this month, so I’ve just been eating junk, and I don’t imagine that’ll taste very go—”
The force holding me upright loosened when we reached the fridge, permitting my feet to find the floor. “Dee-lee-shiz?” He tried to imitate, turning to point straight at me.
“No! No, no, not delicious.” I corrected, violently shaking my head.
His outstretched arm retracted to his side, staring like a hawk at my chin tipping towards the metal cooling box behind him, and I repeated, “Delicious.”
As he flung the door to the refrigerator open, nearly ripping it right off its hinges, he yelled, “Dee-lee-shiz!”
Utter fascination at the chilled temperature and the rather meager array of food etched onto his features, sending relief through my veins. I encouraged him to ravage the tenuous stock of food while simultaneously rejoicing at successfully having deterred him from eating me alive.
Packs of eggs, blueberries, condiments, and essentially anything within his reach was hauled out, forming a growing heap on the countertop. When a zucchini found its way into his grasp, he took one puzzled look before chomping down on one end. I wasn’t too sure how raw zucchini would taste when eaten as though it were a cucumber, but he seemed pleased enough to take another bite that resounded throughout the space with a loud crunch.
I reclined back into the stiff chair, content on observing the ravenous hybrid empty my fridge and taking an occasional nibble on snacks that piqued his interest. Although, his grab at the bundle of raw chicken was when I decided to voice my concerns. “Ah, that has to be cooked!” At another tilt of his head, I explained, “You could get sick if you don’t cook it.”
By his furrowed brows, I deduced the concept flew over his head, but he threw the package onto my lap anyway and peered down expectantly. “Cook.”
“You tied me up, remember? I need some mobility to cook.” I tugged at my subdued arms to demonstrate my current inaptitude.
He hummed in thought, enveloping his lower lip between his lengthy canines as he weighed the pros and cons of being able to consume the meat by setting me loose. Finally, after clearly expressing how torn he was between his hunger and his teasing, it seemed that he’d come to a conclusion when he latched onto my left forearm.
Just as I was about to jib that I was no longer on the menu, a searing pain ripped across my wrist. I hissed through my teeth with my fists clenched as I teared my tender arm out of his grip, protectively cradling the limb to my chest.
He flinched away from the sound, taking a step away from my defensive form. At the sight of my disgruntled frown, he withered into himself, chin to his chest while I examined my sore wrist, whimpering at the edges of the flaming red, torn skin. I was a second away from viciously reprimanding him for the bruise that was more than likely to form by tomorrow, but one look into his guilty, fearful eyes made me pause.
With his strength, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he possessed the ability to do much worse, which didn’t seem to be his intent from all the fretting—ears tucked into the crown of his head and tail hanging low. As he seemed to be repenting without a chiding needed on my end, I redirected to a softer approach. “It’s fine, just be more gentle next time, okay?”
“Mm,” he complied weakly, his prior enthusiasm having substantially deflated. Before I could dismiss the topic and entice him with more food, he knelt down to my ankles, gripping the rope with both hands this time as he effortlessly tore the material apart, careful not to graze my legs in the process.
A shiver crawled down my spine at the display of power, mentally noting that there was probably enough strength in his fingers to flick my stunned form across the room; yet the man proved his duality by proceeding to grab one loose end of his makeshift cape and gently tie it around my unscathed wrist. “No run.”
Surprisingly enough, I hadn’t made it a break for it as soon as I was liberated. Although I sustained minimal injuries, he expressed his remorse and made no moves to consume my flesh, which was another good sign. As more time passed, he was revealing to be more and more of a passionate bunny stuck in a wrestler’s body.
After all, I hadn’t gone through all the trouble of kidnapping him just to sprint at the slightest sign of trouble. I confirmed, “No run.”
Some of his original ardour reappeared at my acknowledgement, along with a faint giggle that evoked a tiny smile on my own face. I figured that with his minimal experience revolving around homemade dishes, simply slapping on some salt and pepper to flavour the meat with a side of boiled vegetables would suffice. Thus, I took the package from my lap and got to work.
Cooking with another, rather useless, individual essentially attached at the hip was difficult, to say the least. In the beginning, the man fired question after question, curious about every ingredient and spice going into the dish, but after realizing that he lacked the correct vocabulary to obtain the information he sought, he became a silent observer.
Basically, he followed me around like a lapdog while munching on another zucchini to occupy his restless hands.
After pulling him around left and right, occasionally giving a soft tug on the blanket when he would unintentionally zone out, I finally threw all the components into a single pan, deciding to serve a simple stir-fry. With only the expanse of the puffy fabric between us, I was constantly elbowing the hybrid while mixing the ingredients together, which I considered a redeeming form of payback for his carelessness with my arm.
While the mouth-watering scent of lunch wafted around, he extended the wrist connected to mine, sidestepping over to the island to fish for a bag of baby carrots before coming to stand next to me by the stove. Spotting my stare, he flashed another blinding grin and I couldn’t help but imagine long, bunny ears extending off the top of his head, his slender tail replaced with a fluffier ball of fur at the back. That seemed to better suit his ardent personality.
The chicken gradually changed colour as the exterior of the vegetables softened, and I brought the meal along with the chair by the fridge over to my tiny two-person table, prompting him to take a seat in front of the steaming plate. I expected him to ravenously dig in and devour every crumb, yet he refused to move a muscle, staring out the glass doors to the backyard and into the forest instead.
“I hurt.” He stumbled over his words, somberly bringing his gaze to my cocked brow. “No mean to hurt.”
Thinking back to the scuffle that seemed eons away at this point, I flashed a reassuring smile his way, explaining, “I get it, you were injured. Um, I was kind of mad at first because you broke my door and everything,” I offhandedly gestured towards the broken contraption, “but I forgive you.”
“No.” He clenched his jaw, analyzing the surface of the table as if the words he was searching for were etched on the surface. “Now. Sorry now, too.” To drive his point home, he delicately grabbed the arm not wrapped in the blanket, streaks of red decorating my wrist like a tight bracelet.
I hummed my understanding. “Ah, I told you it’s fine already,” I reassured, patting his hand.
Content at my acceptance of his makeshift apology, he began to dig into the chicken. His nose twitched at the unfamiliar taste, but he made no complaints. Anything was better than nothing, in the end.
I let him enjoy his food for a bit before asking, “Did you have a name? Something like J3?”
His eyes went back to scanning the outdoors, the sound of his chomping coming to an abrupt halt when he spotted a sad lump on the porch.
“Bud?” he inquired, the light glimmering in his irises.
The nickname stumped me, as I had difficulty imagining Hyunho or Minzy affectionately calling their experiment ‘bud’. “What are you talking about? Is that your name?”
His finger poked out to the cylindrical pile of tuna outside, then back to himself, “Bud.”
Befuddled now more than ever, I tried to laugh it off and nodded my head towards the plate again, silently advising him to continue eating.
Unfortunately, he didn’t seem too keen on evading the topic, whimpering in frustration at either my lack of understanding or his incapability of properly communicating due to the language barrier. His unending appetite was going to be put on hold for this. As he stood up, the chair behind him screeched, and he clutched on to the blanket, pulling me towards the back door.
Refusing to allow history to repeat itself, I rushed ahead to slide the hairband off and pushed the door open, allowing him to slip through. I figured that when the man drifted off to sleep tonight, I could replace the rapidly decaying tuna in hopes that my kitty would visit again.
While I was lost in thought, he undid the knot connecting the two of us and sprinted into the forest.
His back disappeared within the thickets fencing the towering maple trees and I froze in place, my jaw going slack in an ugly mixture of bafflement and betrayal, believing that he had simply taken advantage of my hospitality then ran off. Although, all attempts at making sense of the hybrid’s actions were cut short when familiar noises of horrifying, crackling sounds met my ears, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
When the underbrush twitched, leaves fluttering from the movement of an animal hidden within their cover, a sinking feeling entered my chest. And that was the moment I met the vibrant, emerald eyes that had dug their own space within my heart.
#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook au#jungkook hybrid au#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts imagine#this chap gave me an aneurysm and a half
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The Scientist’s Gamble - Part 2
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Summary: As the formation rides out, Hanji takes a moment to meet your eyes, and you smile at her. Today is going to be a win for humanity, you think to yourself.
You could not be more wrong.
AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!
After an hour or so peacefully riding your horses towards the forest, you begin to feel the floor shaking in the distance. Not long after, the first red flare is fired. A Titan. Thinking back on your knowledge acquired studying Titans with Hanji, you know it is a 5m from the way the ground is trembling - not tall enough that it will necessarily take more than a couple of Scouts to kill, but could still cause damage if it wasn't stopped in time.
You move your face to the right, enough so you can look at Hanji to see if this is the one she wants. She shakes her head - she doesn't want a regular titan. You know that that crazy look in her eyes can only mean one thing. She's after an Abnormal. Goosebumps travel up and down your body, and you reposition yourself on your horse to face forward once again. Without even realizing it, a smug smirk spreads across your face. This is going to be so fun!
"Reiner! - " you scream. Your throat hurts from the effort you put into the sound, yet you still prepare yourself to do it again.
" - I need you to ride to the center of the formation. Inform the Commander that if an Abnormal appears, bring it closer to us. Tell them they should not kill it unless absolutely necessary!"
"Of course," Reiner screams back, allowing his cloak to fall back against his shoulders. His blonde hair ruffles in the wind, a ridiculous smile plastered across his face, "but I'm just curious," he says, and you know exactly what's about to come out of his mouth before he says it as he yells, "Who the fuck put you in charge?"
Before you even have time to laugh at his stupid comeback, the beautiful brown haired scientist riding alongside you responds, "I did!"
Eyes wide, his lips scrunch up as he turns away to avoid eye contact with you and Hanji.
"Now go, Reiner!" Hanji says.
"Yes ma'am!", is all he says before he steers his horse left and rides out of sight. He doesn't give you the chance to say anything in response.
You can feel the laughter bubbling up in your chest, from deep in your throat to burst out of your mouth. You try to hold it in until the blonde soldier is out of sight, but you know he can hear you.
Tears form in your eyes as your stomach starts to hurt. You just can't keep it in. The look on Reiner's face is the funniest thing you've seen in a long while. Once you finally manage to slow down and take a deep breath to pull yourself together, you look over to Hanji to find she's been carefully watching you the whole time.
"Thank you for defending me!", you shout, flashing her the biggest smile you can manage.
"Of course! I'm not going to let anyone undermine you! You are my second in command right now! You know me better than anyone else! That's what makes you such an amazing assistant," her grin widens, "and an amazing friend!"
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks once again, but before you can reply, you notice something in the corner of your eye.
It's a black flare.
You and Hanji lock eyes for a brief moment before you both let out an excited scream at the same time - "LET'S GO!"
.
You can see it now. The Titan is easily 7 meters tall, if not taller. It has blonde hair and brown eyes, and a relatively normally-proportioned body and facial features, but you notice it's walking with a strange limp. At its ankles, the Titan's feet were pointed in the opposite direction they should be. Yet, it runs ahead eagerly as if nothing is different. You've never even thought this was possible.
Perfect! You think to yourself.
You stand up on your horse and switch to your 3D maneuver gear. You shoot your grapples around the top of a tree branch and swing on top to land on your feet with a sense of balance that you're proud of. Multiple horses ride toward where you and the rest of the Scouts stand above them. The massive titan follows the Scouts closely, too close for anyone's comfort, but they're not giving up.
Once the monster is close enough, you and Hanji share a look before you run towards it, preparing yourselves to jump down on its shoulders, cut off its limbs, and strap it to the floor before it regenerates.
Data collected on previous missions showed that it takes approximately 4 minutes for its arms to regenerate, but it shouldn't take you that long to trap it. You're all extremely prepared for this, you've practiced for this and almost every other situation.
Now it's the time to prove you know what you're doing - except nothing could have prepared you for what came next.
The trap used to capture the titan is a fraction of a second late. You're already in the air, arms flung back in preparation to cut its underarm when you notice something is wrong.
Everything happens in slow motion as you see it's massive arm intercept the cables of your grapples, yanking you like a yo-yo across the trees. Your body collides against one of the many enormous trees surrounding you. The pain shoots all over your body. It is too intense, and your vision gets more clouded by the second. You could hear Hanji screaming your name, but you didn't stay conscious for much longer than that.
A few minutes pass by, but the damage caused by the titan makes it seem like much longer. You could see bodies all around you, at least 10, 15. Your comrades, your friends, dead because of a mistake out of your control.
Huh? you think, and that's all that goes through your brain at moment. There is blood dripping down your face, and you're unable to tell if it's yours, the Titan's, or to one of the many bodies lying next to you.
A 5m titan wanders closer to you with every second, and somehow you manage to pull all the strength left in you. Your body is finally forced to sit up, despite all the pain, in your head, your bones, your heart.
"Why is this happening? This is not how today was supposed to go. We prepared for this expedition for weeks!" suddenly you stop talking. Your mind starts spinning as you desperately look amongst the pile of bodies, searching for one in particular.
"H-Hanji?" you manage to force out a whisper, but as soon as you take a deep breath, all the pain you were feeling, the grief for your fallen comrades, the rage towards titans, "HANJI!"
As you become more aware of your surroundings, the warm blood dripping down your face and the pain of your broken ribs are almost enough to make you stop fighting, but a small voice in the back of your head says: You need to find a way out of this forest and back home. You can't let the titans win!
You grab your blades and swing them with all your might, trying your hardest to keep the 5M Titan away for as long as you can until you have a plan. The truth is you just can't die now, but you also can't fight for much longer as you feel your body starting to cave in. The pain from your ribs is becoming unbearable, and your lungs feel like they will collapse at any moment. With every breath is getting harder to breathe. You want to keep fighting for longer, but in your condition, it just doesn't seem possible.
It's alright Y/N, you think to yourself, Your efforts weren't enough, but that's ok. Putting the blade down, you accept your fate, but hopefully, it will be quick. You close your eyes as the massive hands wrap around your already crushed body.
"Oh no, you don't!" someone screams, and their voice is the last thing you hear before passing out once again.
.
You wake up to a bright light shining in your face. Your eyes open slowly, groggily.
Is this the afterlife? No. You can hear the saline dripping, in what kind of afterlife would you be hooked up to an IV in?
The pain in your head travels all over your body as if it's using your veins to move around. You try to readjust, but stop when a new pain shoots through your chest. You count one, two, three broken ribs. It could be worse. At least you're still alive. Your eyes slowly travel down the bruises that cover your body. Some scratches, stitches, broken fingers and toes. You are not even certain that you still have all of your teeth.
The shape beside you shifts ever so slightly, but it's enough to catch your attention. You turn to look, and into focus comes Hanji. Her head lay on her arms, which rest on top of your mattress next to your right hand. This is one of the few times you've ever seen her hair down - it looks a little messy, but it's still as beautiful as ever. Her glasses are folded on the bedside table in front of her. How long has she been sitting here?
"Han...ji..?" The effort you put into making the sound for only her name to come out is considerable. It scratches and burns, to your frustration, but the weak noise is enough to get her attention.
"You're awake!" she says as tears fill her tired brown eyes. "I was so worried about you - please don't ever do that to me again!" A small hiccup forms in the back of her throat. Her lower lip quivers.
The mere sight of Hanji crying is enough to shatter your heart. You try your best to comfort her within your confines. You reach to touch her hand, eyes softening. The sharp pain of your ribs again forces you to gently recline your back on your pillow once again, but you hold her hand tightly.
"What happened?" you ask.
"The Abnormal we were trying to trap moved faster than anticipated it would. The soldiers fired the net approximately 1.9 seconds late but it was enough to derail the entire plan."
She lifts your hand to plant a kiss on it, almost like she was buying herself time before she had to tell you what the rest of the losses were. Flashes of memories come back to you snippets at a time, not enough to give you a full understanding of what happened, but enough to make your heart sink.
Hanji continues, "Your jump would have been perfectly timed if everything had gone according to plan. When the Titan got out, it tangled your line, and you went flying into a tree." You remember the pain you felt at that moment, you've never felt anything like that before. You could remember clearly the sound your ribs made as they broke.
"After that, it became clear to everyone that our mission had failed, and by the time Commander Erwin gave the retreat order, the Abnormal had already eaten everyone around you. Your body was laying among all the corpses around you and I thought I lost you forever -" Hanji abruptly cuts herself off. She catches her breath and closes her eyes to compose herself.
"I heard you scream my name. I ran back to find you, and you were in the Titan's hand. I couldn't let that happen, obviously. I cut off its arm and caught you while Captain Levi went for the nape. I carried your body to the medic's cart, and I haven't left you since."
"How long?" you croak.
Hanji sighs, "Four days."
"And you've been here the whole time?"
Hanji smiles. "I only left for bathroom breaks."
You roll your eyes, but for a few moments, you forget about the pain covering every inch of you. You were never one for impulsivity but now, your body moves on its own. You're more than familiar with how this scene plays out - you think about it constantly. Your hands shake, and you feel your nerves getting worse the longer it takes.
You've been wanting to do for this for years, and now you have the perfect moment. After what happened, you need to kiss her, even if it's the only time you ever do. So, gently but quickly enough that you can't take it back, you grab her face and pull her to your lips. As they seal together, Hanji is taken by surprise, but just as quickly melts away in your embrace. She places her arms on your shoulders as you deepen the kiss.
It's exactly the way you imagined it would be. Goosebumps rise on your body in response to her soft breath against your mouth. A tiny sob escapes your lips as you're all at once reminded you of how much it hurts to move. But that doesn't stop you. After what feels like hours, you pull away reluctantly. You don't want this moment to ever end.
The bright red blush covering her cheeks makes her look even prettier than usual. She gently touches her lips, looking off into the distance like she's lost in thought.
You pull her back into the moment "Squad Leader..." you begin, taking a deep breath and forming fists with your hands. You gather every ounce of courage you have in you. It's now or never. "I've been in love with you for quite some time, and I should've said something before but I was scared."
Once you've started talking, the words pour out of your mouth.
"Now that I almost became Titan food, I don't want to keep it in any longer. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about Titans. I love the way your hair falls over your shoulders when you're training, and the way you adjust the straps of your glasses. I could sit here and list everything that's great about you because you are the most amazing person I have ever met."
Your hands start to shake, and your throat burns with effort, but you push out your most important statement. "I'm deeply and completely in love with you, Hanji."
Her mouth hangs open slightly.
Did I just make a huge mistake? It doesn't matter - I had to get this off my chest, you think to yourself.
She's extremely quiet for a few seconds - no more than a minute, but enough time for you to start panicking.
"Since when?" she asks.
"Since I listened to your guest lecture on titans when I was still in the Training Corps."
"Why haven't you said anything up until now?"
You can't help but laugh. "Everyone in the Survey Corps, and probably everyone in the entire military already knows. I just assumed you weren't interested."
"Huh?? I've never noticed!!" she says, waving her hands above her head. You laugh again as you readjust yourself on the bed. "But now that I think about it, I guess you did hug me a lot for no apparent reason... and Erwin did insist that you be my assistant..." she counts off on her fingers, "and you always blushed when I touched you and - oh wait."
She looks down at her legs, her fingers flying to fidget with her hair. "I can't believe I didn't notice..." Her blush spreads deeper once the realization hits her. "The truth is, I've been liking you too, but I thought you liked Captain Levi, or Eren."
You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head. Hanji laughs, standing up to wave you over to the other side of the bed. She lies beside you on the hospital bed, placing her head on your shoulder while carefully lacing your fingers together. She's careful not to bump your injuries. The smell of her hair awakens the butterflies in your stomach, and you place your chin on her head to wrap your free arm around her shoulder.
"I'm glad you're alive." Hanji says. Her voice is barely audible, her words meant for you alone. "From now on, I won't leave your side. You'll be out in the forest killing titans in no time."
You smile. "Right now, there's no other place that I'd rather be than right here next to you." She looks up at your face, flashing you a grin before she pulls you closer, and your lips close against each other once again.
.
A week later, you listen to birds chirp outside of the window while you read your book. The sunlight feels warm and nice against your legs, and the rare silence you're in is much appreciated. It doesn't last long.
"Y/N!!!!!!!!!"
The door barges open to reveal a gaggle of teenagers stumbling over one another.
"Y/N! I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!" Sasha yells as she runs to hold your hand, but her attention quickly shifts to the half-eaten bean soup on your bedside table. She looks at the soup, and then at you once again.
"You can have it, Sasha," you say with a smile, gesturing to the small bowl. The starved brown-haired girl doesn't lose a second and instantly starts to devour it. A giggle escaping your body as you watch her.
"How are you feeling?" Eren asks before sitting on the bed.
"I'm alright, but I'll need to stay behind during the next few expeditions. I should be good as new in a month or two!"
They stay with you for a little less than an hour, telling you all about their experiences with the failed mission. You find out from them which soldiers were lost and which were injured, along with other small details Hanji didn't mention.
A knock on the door causes all eyes to turn away from you for a moment. Hanji starts to enter, and then gasps as she realizes you have guests.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asks.
You flash her a caring smile while reaching your hand out to grab hers. She blushes slightly, but sits beside you. "Of course not. I was wondering where you were," you say. Mikasa makes eye contact with you, and then looks pointedly at your hands as they sit clasped. You blush too.
"Meeting with the Commander," Hanji sighs, "It went on for longer than expected, I'm sorry."
You could hear the giggles coming from your friends as their eyes rest upon you and Hanji.
"We should get going now, but we'll be sure to come over again soon!" Armin says as he and Mikasa push the rest of the group through the door.
Hanji leans forward to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, and when you open them, you meet Mikasa's emotionless gaze from a crack in the doorway, Hanji's lips still on you. Your eyes widen, but Mikasa just nods, face unchanged, and closes the door behind herself.
"They're good friends to you," Hanji says after a few seconds.
You smile."They're also a handful. But yeah, you're right."
A long, rather comforting silence passes between the two of you. During the silence, you take time to focus on how soft her skin feels against your fingers, tracing the visible veins on her hand as your mind drifts away. You're pulled back to reality as soon as you hear her voice.
"It's a beautiful day outside, would you like to sit on the grass with me?"
.
The breeze rushes through your messy hair as you adjust yourself on top of the blanket. You squint your eyes and places your arm against your forehead in an attempt to keep the sunshine from hurting your vision.
"There's something I want to ask you, Hanji," you mumble.
"Yes?" She inquires, tilting her head while looking at you.
"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" The expression on your face remains the same as when you had been peacefully basking in the sun, but you can hear your blush rushing, heart pounding in your ears. She looks away while blushing, and you're able to notice a smile appear on her face.
"There's nothing I would like more," she says, turning to face you once again. "Well maybe an abnormal, but I do want this a lot."
"You're impossible!" you say while gently pushing her arm.
As you two laugh, your bodies get closer as if they are moving on their own until your lips are sealed in a love-filled kiss. You wrap your arms around her neck while she grabs your hips, slowly pulling you onto her lap.
"I'm in love with you, Hanji." you whisper against her lips, not wanting anyone else to hear these words but her.
"And I'm in love with you, Y/N."
You hug her tightly, feeling her hair against your face as the smell of her shampoo fills your nose. For the first time since you started to prepare for the now-failed mission that led to your injury, your body isn't in pain anymore. You can relax in Hanji's arms, knowing that your long time crush is finally your partner. You can worry about researches and experiments and missions later, right now all you need is Hanji.
"Let's stay here for a little while longer," she says before resting her back against the grass, carefully pulling you towards her. Your head rests on her shoulder as your fingers lace together, a feeling of peace takes over your body knowing that from now on, you'll have her by your side no matter what.
"Yeah... I would like that." You say as you close your eyes, focusing on her breathing as the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze lull you to sleep.
Maybe the next time Hanji comes up with the idea to capture another titan, you'll stay in the lab instead.
#my sunshine#hanji zoe x reader#hange zoe x reader#fanfiction#snk#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#aot#hange x reader#hanji x reader#hanji zoe/reader#aot x reader#snk x reader#snk fanfiction#snk fanfic#aot fanfic#aot fanfiction
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Villain Home AU tugs at my heartstrings. Taemin is so traumatized and terrified, but at least he's back with his Jinki and Minho and under better care than before. The so called heroes being cowards and abusers. Key will give them their due.
Taemin is clingy. That’s the first thing Kibum learns about the boy, just from watching the way he interacts with his brothers. He refuses to let them be out of his sight, refuses to do anything without at least one of them, refuses to part from them for even a moment. It makes some things very difficult, makes the transition that much harder, but Jinki and Minho never once complain, never once lose their temper with their little brother, never once try to tell him to do even this simplest of tasks on his own. They stay with him the entire time, help him the entire time, reassure him that everything is alright the entire time.
“Kibummie’s really nice,” Jinki says gently, holding Taemin on his lap. “Really. He’s not like - the others.”
Kibum could hear the catch in his voice, could hear the hesitation, the way he didn’t even want to say the names of the heroes who had trained them.
“I want Mommy,” Taemin cries for what feels like the millionth time, his face hidden in Jinki’s shoulder, his left hand gripping at Jinki’s shirt while his right hand is still in the purple cast.
“I know you do,” Jinki tries to soothe him, but he’s upset too at the mention of their parents.
The league had told the boys their parents died in a tragic accident. Had taken the three brothers in - out of the kindness of their hearts, supposedly - and trained them to become heroes. The boys had been so young, Taemin only just five-years-old when it happened.
Kibum did some investigating, though. Had looked into the so-called accident the first time Jinki mentioned it, before Minho had been sent to fight Kibum as well.
The whole thing reeked of foul play. A car explosion, a league hero luckily just passing by the area, and three super-powered young children for the league to conveniently take in and train to follow their every command, to mold into their liking. The oldest boy had only just turned ten-years-old at the time.
It wasn’t entirely unusual, Kibum had learned over the years. He’d seen enough of these children be sent to him to recognize a pattern of convenient recent orphans and selfish heroes being praised for swooping in and dragging them away from any sort of family the children might have left to care for them.
Kibum does his best to care for the boys, just like he always does when these children come to him. He doesn’t force them to join him, doesn’t force them to even try to train or fine-tune their abilities. All he does is provide a home for those who want it. And all three of these boys desperately want a place to call home.
It’s something Taemin learns quickly. And soon enough, Taemin is clinging to Kibum as well, following after him, trailing him like a duckling looks to its mother. Kibum doesn’t discourage it. It’s good, he thinks, for the boy to start trusting him. To trust any adult, even if Kibum happens to be a super villain.
“What are you doing?
Kibum smiles at the sound of Taemin’s voice, bites back a grin when he sees Taemin’s head poke over his lab table to stare at the project laid out in front of him.
“I’m creating a new gadget,” Kibum tells him.
“What’s it do?”
“If things go according to plan, it should be able to freeze time.”
Taemin’s mouth falls open, and he leans his head down further towards the table.
“Woah,” Taemin breathes out, poking his nose as close to the gadget as possible without actually touching it. “Why?”
“There’s something I want, and it would be best if I could gather it without actually hurting anyone,” Kibum tells him. “Freezing time would make that possible.”
Taemin frowns a bit, but Kibum just continues smiling as the boy hums and looks as curious as ever.
“Would it freeze time everywhere?” Taemin asks, his head snapping up. “Or just in the place it’s at?”
Kibum tilts his head, and he smirks a bit at the boy.
“That’s a very good question,” Kibum tells him. “Most people probably wouldn’t think about it that way.”
Taemin doesn’t say anything further, just keeps staring at him with those curious eyes and a pout on his face.
“It only stops time within a specific radius,” Kibum finally tells him. “Hopefully. It still needs testing.”
“But will time go back to where it stopped, or will it catch up with the rest of the world?”
Kibum laughs a bit, and he goes back to working on the gadget.
“I think you’re smarter than some of those heroes, you know,” Kibum praises him, and he sees from the corner of his eye as Taemin perks up. “Time will eventually catch up with the rest of the world, if it works according to plan. Not all at once, and how long it will take will depend on how long time was paused.”
Taemin hums again, and he folds his arms on top of the table and rests his chin in them, watching as Kibum works. They’re both quiet for a few more minutes, the only sound coming from Kibum’s tools. It’s a comfortable silence. Kibum can tell Taemin’s brain is still working in overdrive trying to figure out the finer details of the gadget on his own.
“How will it know not to stop time for you?”
“I’ll have to make a special gadget to offset the reaction, of course,” Kibum says. “But I won’t be able to do that until I perfect this part.”
Taemin cups his cheeks in his hands, watching intently. Kibum can hear his feet swaying from where he’s sitting on a stool, and the ambient noise helps him work a bit better. He doesn’t usually like an audience while he creates something new, but Taemin’s questions amuse him. After half-an-hour passes, Taemin finally stops swinging his legs and turns a new pout at Kibum.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You’ve already asked me lots of questions,” Kibum teases. “You don’t need to ask permission.”
Taemin’s nose scrunches up, and Kibum has seen Minho make the same expression when he thinks Kibum has given him a funny answer to something. It just makes Kibum laugh, a fond little chuckle squeezing past his lips.
“If you’re so nice, why are you a bad guy?”
The question makes Kibum pause, and he hears Taemin’s breath hitch. Before he can even respond, Taemin is hopping off the stool and running out of the lab. Kibum sighs, listening as Taemin runs to the elevator, listens to the way it dings when it opens and the way Taemin presses the button for his floor twenty-five times in quick succession until the doors close. He’ll leave Taemin be for now, instead finishing up this portion of his latest creation. He doesn’t want to scare Taemin by immediately following after him.
He finds Taemin later that afternoon, hiding in Minho’s bedroom between the bed and the wall while Jinki and Minho play video games on Minho’s bed.
“Can I talk with you?” Kibum asks Taemin, holding out a hand. “Just for a few minutes?”
Taemin only moves onto the bed to cling to Minho, who instinctively wraps an arm around Taemin the moment he moves close enough.
“I just want to answer your question from earlier,” Kibum says in a patient voice. “You ran off before I could tell you.”
“What did you ask?” Minho asks Taemin.
Taemin just shakes his head. Kibum can see the way he’s terrified, the way he thinks he’s done something wrong, the way he’s afraid of being punished for asking what was in actuality a very simple question.
“He asked why I’m a bad guy if I’m so nice,” Kibum says, a small laugh in his voice. “And it’s okay to ask that. I’m not upset about it, and I’m not angry with you.”
The game has been paused, and Kibum moves to sit down on the bed. He’s close enough to show that he’s not angry, but far away enough to keep Taemin as calm as possible, to not startle him.
“You see,” Kibum starts carefully, “there are a lot of things I do that the league doesn’t necessarily agree with. And that’s fine; a lot of people don’t agree with me. Things like stealing jewels or hurting people - bad people - well a lot of people think that’s wrong. But do you know what I think is worse?”
Taemin shakes his head.
“I think stealing children is worse,” Kibum says in a quiet voice. “I think turning children into pawns, into small soldiers, into weapons who never really have a choice in their fate - well I think that’s pretty despicable. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Taemin blinks a couple times before nodding his head, slowly, as if it’s a trick question.
“I think the things they put you three through, I think they should be punished for that,” Kibum says. “And I do punish them every time they send a child to do their jobs for them. Because adults have a choice to do things, whether they’re right or wrong. Adults know better. And some of the things I do, they might be wrong. But I don’t hurt innocent people to get what I want. And those heroes - they prey on the most innocent people, on children just like you, children who have no choice but to do whatever they tell them.”
Taemin looks overwhelmed now, looks afraid and confused as he clings tighter to Minho. So Kibum stops, decides it’s not something he needs to prove any further, that Taemin received an answer to his question.
“And if you ever have anymore questions,” Kibum says, standing, “you never have to be afraid to ask me. I’ll always answer you as best I can. And I’ll never lie to you.”
Kibum leaves the room, leaves the two older boys to comfort the youngest. He’s afraid Taemin might be afraid of him again, might not want him around. That’s fine. Kibum will always be here when Taemin is ready to ask more questions.
But before Kibum can get to the elevator, he feels two arms circle around him, feels a small face pressing into his side, and looks down to find Taemin clinging to him. Kibum stays there, wrapping his arms around Taemin, comforting him as best he can. Then Taemin looks up, and his eyes are fierce and full of tears, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth.
“I want to punish them,” Taemin says, his voice shaking but so, so firm at the same time.
Kibum kneels down then, moves one hand to cup Taemin’s chin.
“Once you’re fully healed,” Kibum promises him. “Then we can all punish them together, if that’s what you still want.”
Taemin looks determined then, and his frown turns into more of a pout, upset that they can’t go punish them right that moment. But he understands.
“Do you want to help me make something?” Kibum asks instead. “We can make a new gadget just for you.”
“What will it do?”
“Anything you want.”
Taemin smiles then, and he follows after Kibum to go to the lab, and they start drafting plans for a new gadget that will be special for Taemin to use.
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Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 10
Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because DON’T TRUST WHO??
Last times in book: Kylan, Naia, Tavra, and Gurjin are on their way to Aughra’s High Hill to enlist her help in warning all Gelfling of the Skeksis’ drinking problem. I.e. they like to drink people. On the way up the hill, Kylan spots some dream-etching in a spider nest that says DO NOT TRUST HER. Vaguely ominous!
Chapter 10
Naia talks to some more plants. The party meets Aughra. Ha ha.
Aughra’s High Hill was not casually named. Within the mountainous forest, it was the highest point in all the land, near where the Black River originated, closest to the suns and moons and stars. Not a high hill, but the High Hill.
Good reason for it to be named like that then.
‘Aughra lives on the high hill’ ‘Oh, which one?’ ‘I don’t think you understand. When I say the high hill i mean THE high hill.’
Anyway, after all that stuff about reading writing under a spider web, Tavra doesn’t even care enough to ask. Gurjin does but Naia just tells him they’re not sure what it meant.
With Naia spending time chatting with Gurjin, it leaves Kylan nothing to do but think which he decides is his role.
If that was his job in all of this, then he would gladly take on the burden.
Its a lonely job possessing the sole pair of braincells to rub together ha ha (just joshing obvs)
Kylan thinks about that mysterious DO NOT TRUST HER message but he can’t really get anywhere on that ponderation so instead decides to ask Tavra what she meant when she said spiders hate Gelfling.
“Spiders hate Gelfling... All Vapra know this.”
“They hate us? All of them?”
“Oh yes. From the death-stingers to the crystal-singers.”
This was news to Kylan, though on reflection he’d never had a conversation with any spider before. The idea that an entire race might loathe his own was discomfiting. He wasn’t even sure what a crystal-singer spider was.
He asks why spiders hate Gelfling but Tavra just tells him to ask the next time he sees a spider. Which is a weird answer.
So I’ve changed my suspicion for what’s up with Tavra from ‘something something Skeksis’ to ‘something something Skeksis but definitely think she’s Spider-Tavra.’
I think the books and the show are following at least the same vague outline so I figure with all the opinions she has on spiders all of a sudden, she might be being controlled by one.
Later, Tavra tells the group they’ll reach Aughra’s by evening and asks if they’ve prepared what they’re going to say to her.
“I plan to tell her the situation and see if she has advice. Is there more to it than that?”
“You’re about to speak to Mother Aughra, the Ram-Horned. The mouth of Thra. She was born of the world, both child and mother. She has seen Thra before the Gelfling were but sprouts in the garden of all creatures. You would speak to her so casually?”
“I’ll speak to her like I’d speak to anyone else,” Naia said. “With respect -- if she deserves it.”
God, Naia is great. Its that Drenchen upbringing. The hard-talk. Just cut right to the point.
Gurjin points out that Aughra probably respects hard-talk since it’s the language of the natural world.
Which I kinda see? As a point?
Tavra just shakes her head at this but doesn’t really object. She doesn’t even want to be here so at best she’s disappointed on principle.
Kylan, almost passive protagonist but definitely a socially withdrawing protagonist that he is, doesn’t add to the conversation. Just thinks anxious thoughts.
Aughra was said to be wise, to know all things -- but as Tavra had said, she might already know about the Skeksis. Worse, she might already know and yet have done nothing. The Gelfling were her favored children, as their lore sang time and time again, but those songs had been written by the Gelfling. Did Aughra think of the Gelfing as much as any flower in her garden? Would she be equally content to see one creature devour another, if it, too, were part of the circle of life?
Its an interesting idea there about the Gelfling being her favored children, according to Gelfling. Like, oh geez what if we overestimated ourselves?
(Although the minor good point to add to this anxiety ramble is that the Skeksis aren’t part of the natural order. So there’s that.)
Gurjin also thanks Kylan for keeping Naia company and helping her in the woods during that whole Gurjin heroic sacrifice thing.
Kylan: “I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad we all are.”
Aw, friends.
They reach the finger vines as mentioned in Rian’s warning.
Thick orange vines covered the cliff wall in front of them, finger-shaped and tangled like rope that had been left too long to its own devices. No further pathways led deeper into the crag, but Kylan could feel a draft coming from behind the vines. There was a tunnel there but they would have to pass through the overgrowth, and if one part of Rian’s instructions had stayed with Kylan, it was to stay away from the finger-vines.
Tavra hucks a rock into the vines and they immediately tangle about it before dropping it as inedible.
So, I’m pretty sure that these are the same vines that Jen will eventually blunder into. It’s not his fault, he didn’t have a helpful Rian in his life.
I wonder how long the vines take to eat something. Jen is lucky that Aughra was literally right around the corner when he got caught.
I’m honestly a bit surprised that finger-vines are a specific predatory plant and not just. Something Aughra set up to discourage solicitors.
Oh my god, I’m once again blown away by Jen going to visit Aughra in his quest without any idea of her significance. The UrRu never even told him that (for all practical purposes) god lived a day down the road.
I’m sure they did their best but wow. He has holes in his education.
I’m getting off-track.
Naia tries calling for Aughra through the vines but this time she’s not lurking right around the corner so that doesn’t work.
Tavra was unimpressed and unsurprised, almost smug at the situation.
I’m glad that you’re probably a spider, Tavra, because you are being a bummer.
She again calls this whole trip a waste of time which annoys Naia into wing flicking. Love the wing body language but now I’m wondering what specific muscles correspond to that. I guess if your back stiffens... yeah, that makes sense.
Anyway, Naia is so annoyed that she decides to dreamfast with a plant again. She just goes and puts her hands on the vines and instead of entangling her, they do not do that.
Kylan had learned the language of the Landstriders, as all Spriton did. Tavra had certainly learned the tongue of other creatures as well, in her training to serve the All-Maudra. But those were languages spoken on the tongue, in sets of words and phrases. Naia’s unique ability to dreamfast with creatures other than Gelfling let her speak in the universal song of the heart.
This is neat!
It expands on Kira’s beastmastery. At least in the novelization, it’s mentioned during Jen and Kira’s dreamfast that Kira’s podmom Ydra taught her the language of animals.
And apparently it used to be a thing for some Gelfling to learn. But not as much as Kira! Ydra knew a lot!
Anyway, after dreamfasting with a plant again, the vines open like a curtain to let the four Gelfling (or four Gelfling and a spider??) enter.
At the end of the tunnel they find a door to Aughra’s Sweet Orrery.
(Just imagine the Dark Crystal theme in your head)
Most impressive was the enormous moving contraption that occupied the center of the chamber. It filled the space of the room with dozens of huge spheres, mounted on poles and swooping arms. The machine rotated and gyrated like a living thing, spheres orbiting spheres, circling yet other spheres, all of it shining in bronze, copper, iron, and glistening stones. Clearly, the grating sounds emanated from the machine, and the movement of its pieces stirred the air so it felt as though there were a breeze, even inside the crystal dome.
“Amazing,” Kylan breathed.
He recognized some of the symbols etched deep into the metals: the symbols that represented the Three Brothers, others that represented the elements of the earth and water, air and fire.
“Its the path of the stars,” he said. “The suns, and...”
Then Aughra pops up from behind a book tower.
And she is amazing.
“What, you just gonna stare? Walk right into my home just to stare, did you? Maybe you should draw a picture, take it with you!”
This is exactly the kind of Aughra I was hoping for.
Also, the way she speaks the Gelfling language (the single Gelfling language that exists I guess?) with what sounds like an ancient accent to Kylan. Although I’m not sure how he would know, I’d bet he’s right.
Naia takes the lead and tells Aughra that they’re here to ask for her help, calling her Mother Aughra.
“Mother Aughra, eh? Ask for my help, eh? Why is it you Gelfing only call Aughra Mother when you need help? That’s what children do, I guess... I guess that’s what they do.”
‘You never call, you never write’ hahaha
This is quality Aughra content.
With her grump helpfully communicated, she takes note of the party and grumps some more, noting that they only have a Spriton, a Vapra, and a Drenchen.
“Hmph. Three out of seven ain’t bad. It’s still soon. Where are the others?”
And when they don’t have any idea what she means:
“What others, he asks? What others? The other clans, of course! Gelfling gathering. What else is there to know?”
Its like when you arrive to the final dungeon without a full party and the NPC is like ‘lol no go hit some more plot flags’
Aughra sat heavily on her table stool, as if hoping they might go away if she ignored them long enough.
I don’t know how many ways I can say how great this is.
I’m living for it. Unlike Jen, these Gelfling know that Aughra isn’t some random grumpy mountain woman. She’s basically god and she’s behaving like a cranky grandmother. Kylan can’t even warp his head around how different from his expectations this is turning out to be.
I also guess it answers in this continuity whether Aughra was so grumpy in the movie because she’d lost much of her hope after the Gelfling were all but wiped out. It turns out: no, she’s Just Like That.
When a thousand ++ trine you reach, be so nice you will not.
But since they don’t just leave, Aughra decides she will say more things.
“Come on, then, Gelfling. Children. Aughra already knows what you want to know. Whether it’s what you want to hear, though, hmph! Might not be.”
Oh, this sidequest is shaping up beautifully.
J.M. Lee, you have done a marvelous job.
#dark crystal#the dark crystal#Song of the Dark Crystal#liveblog#Kylan#Naia#Tavra#Gurjin#Aughra#this is everything I hoped for
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A Breath of Freedom
Description: A royal bereft of freedom. Min Yoongi has the solution.
Word length: 2k
Trigger warnings (!!!): none.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader.
[Masterlist]
Making your way through the crowd, you tried your best to give your best smile. Your shoes were killing you, too high, too tight and so unfamiliar still after nineteen years of the same old parties with the same old, elegant attires.
While it was true that growing up brought many new things (apart from the new responsibilities), but most of those were none of your interest. You could not deny that the dresses were spectacular, that the music only made you want to dance, or that the food was to die for, yet being around so many people that barely knew what your first name was, to say the least, a mediocre way to spend your Friday night. Even when you had never met anything different, all ever since you could remember, things around your household had been anything but what you wanted. Your parents had made sure to speak to you about how important your presence was, how important it was for your people to know that your family was close, just like your kingdom. But what was the point? At the end of the day, you were not next in line for the throne, no one cared about you unless they wanted to get close to your father, and your shoes were not the right ones if you wanted to dance all night.
“Oh, good evening, Your Highness,” someone said at your right.
No one ever called you by your name. It was not proper. And, being quite frank, you were almost sure that no one even knew it, so you were sure that your people were relieved that they did not have to remember it.
“It is a lovely night, is it not?” you replied, but did not wait for an answer, you just kept on walking at a slow pace with your chin up high.
You made your way to the window. The thin, white cloth, almost too sheer to the touch, covered all the glass, even formed a pile of soft fabric on the floor. The moonlight still made its way through into the room, barely noticeable so, if only you could open the curtains… You turned your head, no one was paying attention to you, so you moved the curtains and hid behind them. The glass was pressing against your nose, you could feel the cold winter in your skin. Your breath slightly fogged the glass, not letting you see the garden. You had heard stories, the crude winter that turned white everything it touched. Snow, that was how it was called. You had never seen it. But this year, it was different, because it had finally been cold enough for it to snow. You gave a step to your right, but a white wall blocked your vision, so you kept on walking to your right, in hopes of coming across another window.
You had only taken five steps to your right when you bumped into something. When you turned your head, a young man was staring back at you. No words were said for what it felt like an eternity, but just when you were giving up hope, he said your name in a surprised whisper. He did not say “Your Highness”, he had simply said your name. It was not followed by an interrogative, he was sure about what he had said. There was no raised intonation at the end of his utterance.
“Yes?” you asked.
He gulped, clearly not expecting your response, but then, he gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen before. Maybe it was the moonlight working its magic on you, but at that moment, you just knew that was the most radiant smile you were going to see in your life.
“May I ask you what are you doing behind the curtains?”
“Snow.”
“Snow?”
“Yes, I am trying to see it. Have you ever seen it yourself?”
“I come from the Winter Kingdom, I am afraid that our landscape only offers snow.”
There was a strange feeling in your chest; disappointment, was it?
“Oh. I am being incredibly rude, am I not? You already know my name, but I am afraid I do not know yours.”
“Min Yoongi, Prince of the Winter Kingdom.”
That was when it hit you, this was the guest of honour both your parents had been so worried about. They wanted everything to be perfect for them. Maybe you should have asked why it was so important. Your mother and your father had been acting so strange lately because of this visit specifically, but, to you, it was no different from the others.
“We have been invited tonight with the hopes of an alliance, am I correct?”
So that was why.
“Excuse me?”
You might have not been as involved as your parents wanted you to be, but you were smart enough to understand what an alliance between kingdoms meant; marriage.
While most stories you had been told through the years were happy moments of your kingdom’s history, your mother also told you about how she was married off to your father when she was still young. There was no pain, no hurt, no anger behind her voice that one time she had told you that story. It ended quite simply, too: “I learned that love is not for everyone.” You had never let yourself forget those words, not because you believed them but because you refused to live by them. While you could see that your parents deeply cared about each other, you could also notice that, if they had been given the chance, this would not have been the outcome of their stories. They would have been separate ones.
“You were not aware?” He asked, puzzled.
“I-I… I was not, as you can see.”
The moonlight was too bright right then, it was making you nauseous.
“Are you and your older brother close?”
The question disconcerted you, so you looked at him, waiting for an explanation from him. One of his eyebrows raised in a doubtful look.
“What does my brother have to do with this?”
“He is the one marrying my sister, well, if everything goes according to the plan. That is how the alliance will be sealed.”
“My brother?”
“Precisely.”
“We are not getting married?”
“One of the perks of being the youngest one, I can do whatever I want; that includes my personal relationships. My parents are not interested in making any arrangements in my name.”
His posture, as he said that sentence, was proud and confident, no irony behind his words. You inspected him a little more closely. His hair was not pushed back like your brother’s, and his cheeks had a faint trace of pink as if he had been running in the cold. His clothes, although elegant and fitting, were somewhat wrinkled. He reminded you of that moment when you would get up of your bed and walk to your balcony so you could breathe the fresh morning air. Sometimes cold, others warm. Ever-changing.
“Must be nice,” you smiled.
“Excuse my manners, but you are the youngest daughter of His Royal Highness, are you not?”
“Well, yes. I thought you knew that by now.”
“I did, I was just checking. I believed you were not to be wed until you decided, same as me.”
“Unfortunately, that talk has not been had. Nevertheless, I would not be surprised if my father and my mother decided to marry me off to a powerful soon-to-be ally.”
You were not seeking any pity from Min Yoongi, but his hand on your shoulder was enough to reconsider it. It felt nice; warmth within the cold, like a summer breeze.
“A royal bereft of freedom?”
“That is me.”
“A sad cliché, I am afraid.”
It had been so long (if ever) since someone had talked to you so casually. It did not bother you at all. Being honest, you wanted more.
“I have got the solution.”
“You do?”
Min Yoongi extended his hand, you took it and squeezed it softly.
“Follow me.”
“Where?”
“Outside.”
He turned around and began to walk through the curtain tunnel, still holding your hand so the only thing you could do was to meet his pace while drowning your giggles. The delicate cloth was grazing your skin as you two ran out of the grand hall. The faint conversations slowly quieted as you walked into the corridor. When the guests and the music from the party could not be heard, Min Yoongi stopped, making you collide against his back.
“Min–”
“Shh…”
Something had caught his attention. You peeked, shielded by his body, two guards were approaching, you could tell by the shadows on the walls and by the sound of their steps.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
“Oh, I did not know you talked like that,” he whispered, amused but still not looking at you.
“There is no time for that, we have to get out of here!”
You quickly glanced around you. When your eyes landed on the sunflowers painting, you ran over there with Min Yoongi still holding your hand.
With the painting in front of you, you turned around to face him and lifted one finger.
“If you tell anyone about this, I promise I will kill you,” you warned.
He chuckled and raised his shoulders. “Hey, after tonight, we will be practically family, united by the grace of God and our parents.”
His dramatic ending almost made you laugh. “I will ignore that.”
You put your hands on the painting frame and pulled. The painting opened like a door, revealing a passageway. A cold breeze hit your body, you could see your breath turn into a cloud.
“A secret passage?”
You did not bother to answer his question as you pulled him in and closed the door behind you. You held his hand even tighter as you stepped into the darkness. You had memorised these passages years ago, but the lack of light still was unsettling. One wrong turn and you would end up in a dead-end. With one hand in front of you and the other keeping Min Yoongi close, you continued blindly walking through the path. You counted the steps in your head. Twenty-three forward, turn left, fifty-seven forward, turn left again, thirty-eight forward, and turn right, the exit should be sixty-seven steps away. You pushed the wooden door at the end of the last passage.
“Where are we?”
“The stables,” you answered, “but the animals are inside the castle because of the cold.”
“That is ridiculous!”
“It is not! What if they die in the cold? Then what horses would the knights ride? Or where would the cooks get the meat, eggs, or milk from, huh?”
He stayed silent for a moment, but spoke again after a few seconds: “fair enough.”
You were ready to keep the discussion going, but something caught your attention. At the entrance of the stables, something white and shiny on the floor.
You let go of Min Yoongi’s hand and walked all the way there until you reached the limit between the roofed part of the stables and the one that was in the open air.
“What are you waiting for? Go touch it,” Min Yoongi encouraged you.
It was rather funny, you had been waiting for this for so long, and now something was holding you back. Was it fear? Not exactly. Maybe it simply was the fact that those high expectations had been building up for so many years, and it all came to this moment; what if it did not end up as you expected to?
The first time you were disobeying your parents’ orders. The first time you were seeing snow. Your first friend.
That last word: friend. Was it even possible, to make a friend in such a short period of time? You surely did not know. But it felt genuine. Someone who literally dragged you outside just so you could experience what you had never been able to.
Even if you ended up disliking snow, even if you ended up hating it, you knew that you would do it all over again if Min Yoongi was by your side.
You took off your shoes, threw them aside, and after a deep breath, you took a step into the snow.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
You turned your head and smiled at him. The moonlight made his skin glow. His cheeks were even pinker than before. His eyes were smiling at you, but you could still see a glint in both of them.
“Like a fresh breath of freedom.”
[Masterlist]
#bts#bangtan#bts yoongi#bts masterlist#bts suga#bts taehyung#bts v#bts namjoon#bts rm#bts seokjin#bts jin#bts hoseok#bts jhope#bts jimin#bts jungkook#bts fluff#bts angst#bts reactions#bts one shot#bts reaction#bts scenario#bts scenarios#bts fake chats#bts fake chat#bts chat#bts texts#bts fake texts#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts au
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Why Do You Think This Would Work? Ch3 [Taichihaya]
They should have known that fake dating never goes according to plan.
In which Mashima Taichi doesn’t want to be bothered by his mother’s prospects anymore and Ayase Chihaya hates her sister’s attempts of finding her a boyfriend.
Chapters: [ 1 ] [ 2 ]
——————
‘It’s a Friday today, so Chihaya wouldn’t be staying over’ Taichi thought over as he drove his way home. He might miss Chihaya’s cheery presence in his otherwise “bare and boring” apartment as she puts it, but he’s relieved he can think things over all alone.
To say he was surprised was an understatement when Chihaya and his mother were at his apartment building waiting for him. And even after all these years Chihaya still looks like a scared puppy when she’s within the vicinity of Mashima Reiko.
“Ah Chihaya, fancy seeing you here” Reiko greeted as soon as she spotted Chihaya, who was just about to book it out of the building as soon as she caught a glimpse of the infamous Mrs. Pressure.
Although Reiko has been more accepting of Chihaya and karuta in general, there’s still some weird tension in the air when both of them are left alone together.
She turned around and slowly walked towards the woman, “H-hi, Mrs. Pr- I mean Mrs. Mashima”
Reiko spotted the plastic bag she’s carrying. ‘Fermented Squid Guts? And some weird-looking ramen?’
“You’re here to visit Taichi too are you?” she asked, assuming the squid guts is meant for her son.
“Y-yes, I am but just for a while though” she lied. She couldn’t imagine what unspeakable horrors she might face from Mrs. Pressure if she knew she was staying over at Taichi’s from time to time.
Then she remembered why she was at Taichi’s in the first place, ‘I actually have to live with him now’
She internally panicked and her thoughts spiralled into everything going wrong. Just then, Reiko cleared her throat and Chihaya came back to reality.
“I’m actually here to interrogate Taichi about something,”
Chihaya blinked, “Huh? Did Taichi do something wrong?”
“No it’s nothing like that,” she sighed and rubbed her temples then looked at Chihaya. “Say Chihaya, you’re Taichi’s best friend right?” she stated more than asked.
“Yes of course,”
“So did he ever mention having a girlfriend to you or something? I’m sure he must have”
At this Chihaya went back to her awful dreamland trying to make up some kind of response but before she could go insane and blurt out something she felt someone’s hand on her shoulder.
“Oh Taichi, what a surprise, you’re home early for once”
Chihaya turned around and automatically clung to Taichi’s arm. He silently took that as her saying, ‘Thank god you’re here, I don’t think I can spend another minute here alone with your mother’ or something along those lines.
“It’s a Friday so I figured to get some alone time,” then he looked at the two women “but I didn’t expect to have company today”
She looked at her watch and looked back at Taichi, “I suppose I can make this quick since your father and I have to attend a company dinner in a while anyway.”
“If this is about yesterday, you’re looking at her” he said confidently and Reiko took a second for her to process what he just said.
At this point Chihaya doesn’t know what to do, she’s just slowly waiting for the inevitable disappointment or wrath Mrs. Pressure will bring forth but it never happened, instead, Taichi wrapped his arm around her, proudly showing her off to Reiko.
“Chihaya is my girlfriend, and since I figured you already knew her and how amazing of a woman she has become I didn’t think of telling you since Chihaya wasn’t ready yet”
She was shocked at Taichi’s exclamation, it sounded so genuine she couldn’t help but feel flattered and blushed from his statement.
Taichi squeezed her shoulder lightly and she realized what that meant.
“Always go with the flow when we’re making up something on the spot.”
“Yeah,” she said bashfully “I’m very new to relationships so I’m still nervous about coming out about it” which was entirely true anyway.
“I never expected this but I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell me discreetly, Taichi” Reiko crossed her arms and looked at both of them, “Well I don’t think I need any proper introductions or whatever since its just Chihaya”
She walked over to leave but stopped for a brief while and pinched Taichi’s forearm.
“Ow!”
“Next time, you should at least let your mother know how you’re doing so I don’t need to continuously worry about you”
“Ok, I got it” he answered a bit abruptly so she could let go.
“As much as I love to talk more about you and Chihaya, I need to go” she said as she left the hallway but looked back once again, “Next time you should bring Chihaya over when you visit home”
“Yeah sure, you make it sound like it’s so far away”
Reiko scoffed and she’s gone.
“At least that’s all dealt with” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Chihaya ”So would you mind telling me why YOU are here?”
-----------------------------
“So that’s how our conversation went,” Chihaya clasped her hands together as she finished her story and consequently, her ramen as well.
Taichi could feel himself almost faint, true that they’ve already been kind of living together for a year already but this is different. She would have to stay with him everyday now, he would always wake up and sleep with her in the apartment.
‘Ok Taichi, you’re getting ahead of yourself’ he told himself ‘It wouldn’t be that bad if Chihaya moves in with me, right?’
——————
NEXT CHAPTER
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I was planning on adding something else at the end but I think this chapter would be too long so its going to be on the next chapter instead uvu
Shout out to my lovely readers and commenters on the previous chapter, you guys are the best ^^ : @adeuscontosdefadas @akkalafuru @my-anime-diary @otaku-shipper
If you like this story share and leave a comment (maybe?) makes me happy to see what you guys think and honestly inspires me to update ^^
#teannamonfics#whydoyouthinkthiswouldwork#taichi x chihaya#taichihaya#mashima taichi#chihayafuru#ayase chihaya
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Pumpkin Spice Feelings and Apple Cider Kisses
MewGulf
Fluff piece. could be considered a proposal piece. Pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins. Fluff. Cute stuff. Fall fic.
Length: 5740
This wasn’t their year-long honeymoon, not even close. This was just a short (two-week-long) vacation - and they weren’t even engaged yet. Not for lack of want though for either party. Mostly for lack of Mews part. He was trying. And Gulf was patient, as ever. The sweet sweet boy.
But it was a vacation and they were together so the rest could be figured out later. Mew wondered if he would finally cave and propose during their vacation or keep pushing it off because (among a few other things), ‘ it wasn’t perfec t.’ Hating his perfectionist side when it came to certain things like work and Gulf. Sometimes there would be a moment that he would think ' yeah this could be it ' but then not do it because ' what if there was a better moment late r'? A more perfect moment.
Maybe it would be in the thicket of trees, surrounded by oranges, yellows, and browns. All bundled up because winters in Thailand were not nearly as cold as they were here in the states. Maybe he could find a perfect moment here?
When Tul had mentioned friends in the states who had a rental cabin, it hasn’t taken long for Mew to book them a trip out. He planned everything (anal as he was about everything going according to plan - there goes that side of him again). Now -a few months after Tul has mentioned it- they were standing in a field of pumpkins surrounded by the most beautiful autumn color scheme. Leaves crunching under their boots as they move from pumpkin to pumpkin.
They had layered up, Gulf only putting one layer -and the damn blue blanket around his shoulder like some sort of cape- stating he wasn’t that prone to the cold as Mew was but immediately shivering as soon as the cold winter chill hit his face. Mew stuffed the extra coat he’d brought (specifically because he knew Gulf would do this) over Gulf, stuffing a knitted hat down over his ears -already pink and chilled, not forgetting to drop a kiss to them to help them warm up - before finally catching those hands to cover them with warm mittens. Mittens that were now holding up a pumpkin above the boy's head, giant smile plastered across his face.
“P’Mew looks at this one,” Gulf yells, uncaring of the other couples and families he’s disturbed in his joy. "It's the best most perfect pumpkin."
Mew can't help but think Gulf fits so well within the surrounding beauty. Like something out of a magazine. His skin glowing with its soft undertones of pink wrapped in the soft browns and yellows (because Mew is nothing if not always fashionable and made sure to pick out clothes that he knew would fit their activities) that blend in perfectly with the autumn aesthetic. He looks like he smells of pumpkin spice that they put in everything here in the states.
Breathtaking was the only word he could think of. But stunning or ethereal might be close seconds. He, like always, was enamored by Gulf.
He could imagine their proposal being in a place like this and is almost sad that he didn’t bring the rings with him. He'd been too worried about making sure Gulf was sufficiently covered up to even think about grabbing them before they left.
“Looks perfect. Does it have a matching pair?” Mew asks, in a much more muted tone than the yell he had received. Gulf purses his lips, wide eyes flitting around.
Mew lets his eyes wander around the pumpkin patch. He lands on a couple a few rows down, two females who are wearing significantly fewer clothes than he and Gulf. He assumes they must have grown up around here to be ok with only a jacket and a hat. No gloves in sight. He's got a winter jacket, a sweater, and a body warmer on and can still feel the chill.
He watches as one leans into the other for a cheek kiss, he can hear the exchange of praise on her pumpkin find. He spots matching rings on their fingers. A little rumble of jealousy rolling up into him because he's not currently wearing matching rings with his beloved. It's petty and he is fully aware it's his fault, doesn't stop the jealousy though. He watches the girls walk out of the field together happily chatting over their pumpkin before he turns back to Gulf - who seems to have made a friend.
The closer he gets he can hear the small child talking about how he lost his parents. Gulf, who's grouched to the kids level, glances around sending a worried glance Mew's way.
“I think he lost his parents,” Gulf says and the kid sends them a weird glance. Probably the Thai instead of English.
“What do your parents look like?” Mew says in English and the boy purses his lips, looking dejectedly around. He doesn’t blame the kid for not knowing, he couldn’t be more than six. Mew probably couldn’t describe his mom now if he lost her in a crowd much less at that age. Thank technology for phones so he didn't have to worry about that.
Mew spots a couple off to the other side of the field, frantically looking around. Gulf catches the stare before he ushers the kid onto his back. Giving a few bounces to earn a smile.
“Is that them?” Gulf asks in English, the small boy peering over his shoulder before letting out a squeal.
“Mommy.” The boy flapping his hands in that direction. Guess they were right.
“Let me take him over-“
“I got it," Gulf interrupts him with a small and another small bounce to adjust the kid on his back, "Someone needs to protect the perfect pumpkin and he's already on my back.”
Mew stands astonished and flabbergasted for a moment. Gulf was not one to be confident in his English but he didn’t see the least bit bothered as he talked to the kid in broken English. Even now as he watches Gulf head across the field, he can see them chatting together and something pulls in his heart.
He adds ‘adoption’ to his mental list of future events to have with Gulf right after getting a house together but before living a long happy life together. He glances down at the pumpkin at his feet, the best pumpkin as Gulf had named it. It was a nice pumpkin.
Mew looks back up to watch -a bit with bated breathe- as Gulf hands the boy over to his parents, Gulf hands wave around (an odd jerky movement because he's unsure of his words) as he explains. Then he wais and Mew snickers at the instinct. The parents laugh, shouting their thanks even as Gulf shuffles away.
Gulf bounds back over to him, face all red from the cold and embarrassment, maybe a little bit of pride. Mew thinks Gulf looks so beautiful, so gorgeous, and then he’s gone from his vision. A moment of panic before Mew realizes Gulf had tripped. A few more seconds pass (Mew debates how long he should wait before bolting over, three seconds, ten? what if Gulf is hurt-) before Gulf is flapping back into a stand, giggles spilling out of him as a few leaves stick off him. Gulf seems unbothered by them as he makes it back to Mew, explaining the meeting (Like Mew hadn't been watching the whole thing happen), while Mew took it upon himself to pick the leaves off his clothes and the one from his hair before leaning in and kissing Gulfs cherry red nose.
Mew thinks he might be sick with love as Gulf smiles back at him just short of breathe, eyes shimmering with anything and everything Mew could ever want. He's definitely sick with love. He'll never find anything better than Gulf because Gulf is it. He can hear Gulf's voice telling him that he's being too sappy but he can't help it. He's always loved too much for his heart, weighing him down like anchors on his feet.
“You did so well Tue ang.” Gulf preens at the words, the glow under his skin no longer from the weather but from his happiness. Gulf hooking their pinkies together for a moment, and the weight feels justified. Like he's loving Gulf just enough as they other soaks in it.
“Did you find the second one?”
“Not yet, let’s check over there.”
Gulf picks up his perfect pumpkin, holding it close to his torso like a child as they walked to a different part of the patch to look. Mew can't help but wrap his arms around Gulf, pressing against his back till they waddle past a few more pumpkins. He pats the pumpkin likes he's done so many times before to Gulf tummy with a soft tung tung tung sound. Gulf pats it a few times as well making a weird rhythm that matches their mismatches steps.
"What about that one?"
Gulf hums glancing between the newfound pumpkin and his own a few times. "I think we found our match."
"Like us?"
"So cheesy," Gulf laughs before glancing around briefly before sniff kissing Mew temple. "Like us."
Mew gets them hot chocolate -made from a powder that was recommended to them by the owner of the cabin when they’d first arrived - as soon as they make it back. Pumpkins perched on a newspaper lined table. They shed their outer layers; coats, boots, hats, and gloves while sharing a few kisses that warmed them up pretty quick. Mew had tried to go further, you know, for warmth.
“Let me warm you up.” Mew kisses down Gulf neck, hands sneaking their way under Gulf shirt but as soon as his fingers made contact with Gulf's warm belly he was pushed away.
“Your fingers are freezing,” Gulf says his teeth chattering with a tiny shiver. “Pumpkins first. That'll warm you up.”
Mew sulked, made sure that he was visibly pouting, tried to give his best puppy dog eyes but Gulf just laughs and kissed his cheeks. Which is a safe place seeing as Mew would take a kiss to the lips as an attack and he was ready for that naked battle. So Mew settled for hot chocolate a handful of extra marshmallows in his cup that he definitely replenished halfway through his drink, Gulf noses at his cheek mid-sip -which he knows it Gulf way of soothing his sulking- before settling beside him in his own chair.
Mew was a bit worried about letting Gulf free with sharp objects but there really wasn’t another choice if they wanted to carve pumpkins.
Gulf gulps his drink as he watches a video of someone explaining how to carve correctly. His right hand holding a knife while the other caressing the pumpkin in a pattern that Mew assuming he's going to try and carve.
“Doesn’t seem hard.” He turns to Mew showing his screen as if Mew hadn’t been watching along from beside him the whole time. Mew leans in to kiss the leftover chocolate residue off Gilfs lips with a soft hum of agreement. Gulf stares at him for a second, something flashing in his eyes before he hazily licks his lips turning back to his pumpkin. Mew smirks.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
Gulf grunts in annoyance, “I’m not a child. I can handle knives.”
Mew bite his tongue from the sassy remark as he bandaged Gulf fingers. Somehow managing to slice across three of them before stabbing his palm. None of the wounds were deep but they were enough for Mew to call the pumpkin carving event over.
“I'm not done with mine though.” Gulf whines, hissing as Mew daps his palm with medication.
Mew blows gently over it before placing the gauze over the wound. “They’re good enough.”
"I'm not going to cut myself again," Gulf grumbles, eyeing his hand now wrapped in white gauze.
"You're right, you won't." Mew puts the first aid kit back together. "Because we're finished carving."
"What are we supposed to do instead-" Mew sends him a look that immediately tells him exactly what they could do instead. "Fine, no more carving. Not that either. There's a stand up the road I saw that had caramel apples. Can we go see that?"
Mew pouts, "I didn't have anything else planned for this evening though."
Gulf slinks forward wrapping his arms around Mew's neck, "It's like 4 in the afternoon. Let's go check out the stand and later when it gets darker we can light up our..."
"Jack-o-lanterns."
"That's it, Jack-o-lanterns, I knew having you around would be useful."
Mew tugs him closer, sniff kissing his neck than his cheek. Pumpkin and chocolate.
They wrap themselves back up and walk hand in hand down the road until they got to the stand, Gulfs hand loosens but he doesn't let go as he looks through all the products and different candy-covered fruits.
Gulf convinces him to buy a Carmel apple slice and a slice of chocolate pear. Gulf shrugs after a small bite, not really liking the taste, so Mew finishes them off. The stand owner is a cute little old woman who ushers them behind the stand when she learns they are foreigners here for vacation. Her excitement shows as she all but swoons over how handsome they were and tuts at them for never having tried s'mores.
"They're mandatory for this time a year." She had exclaimed and who were they to argue when they've never had them.
A small bonfire was going, with about six kids sitting around it. According to her, she's the local babysitter. She sits them down and hands them a stick and marshmallow. The kids show them how to roast it and make s'mores.
"You got to let it catch on fire." A little boy, Tim, yells excitedly as he shoves his marshmallow in the fire. He tugs Gulf stick closer to his, further into the fire.
A little girl, Lily, beside Mew gives an angry noise, "No, you want it to be brown and crunchy. Not burnt."
She places her hand over Mews as they watch their sticks in the fire. Mew is careful to keep an eye on Gulf, his instincts would let him not. The boy's grip on Gulg injured hand was making him weary. Gulf seems unbothered by it.
Gulf's Marshmellow catches on fire and Tim helps him pull it out of the fire. "Blow on it. Blow on it!" Tim flaps a bit and Gulf blows out the tiny flame a little more exaggerated than he needed to but Tim seems more than amused before handing Gulf graham crackers and a piece of chocolate.
"Now smash them together." This Tim and Lily seemed to agree on and Gulf did. The marshmallow oozing out the sides before he plops it into his mouth. Mew moves his marshmallow out of the flames to watch Gulf chew, mouth stuffed and lips pursed out. Marshmellow goo over his thumb and bandaged wrapped pointer finger, which he pulled out of his glove to hold the sandwich. Adorable.
"Yummy." He says once he's swallowed enough to talk. Tim laughs, giving Gulf a high five, that looks and sounds rather sticky before turning to his own quickly darkening marshmallow.
"Is it really good Tua eng?" Mew whispers, nudging his leg.
Gulf turns to him, chocolate and marshmallow rimming his lips. "Pretty sweet but not bad. I think one is enough for me."
Mew tries too, with plenty of help from Lily. She seems like a born leader and she knows it. He likes it but Gulf was right its pretty sweet. He ate one more and stopped there if only because he knew he'll have to work them off later. He might have been on vacation but he still had an image. Gulf likes the biceps so he keeps his biceps. That's just how it works. Also, he's pretty sure that if he didn't stop himself with two he'll eat the whole bag. He definitely sees the appeal of smores and roasted marshmallows.
A while later they head back to the cabin, the sun low in the sky, by the time they make it back the sun has gone down for the day. The moon rising in the sky as they set the half-carved pumpkins outside the doors. The tea lights they put inside glowed minimally through the holes in the pumpkin. It was pathetic and comical. Mews was basically done, two eyes and a jagged mouth starred back at them but Gulfs only had a mouth and part of one eye. Neither were even but they look kind of cute leaning against each other.
They take pictures and post them along with a few they'd taken during the picking stage. Mew sets a particularly cute one as his lock screen. It’s one of them smiling at the camera, cheeks pressed together with the beautiful trees in the background. He changes his Home Screen to one of him kissing a surprised looking Gulf on the cheek, the same beautiful trees in the background.
“We look like a real couple,” Gulf says looking at their matching lock screens.
“In the picture or the marching screens?”
Gulf chuckles, leaning into Mew side. “Both. But also right now. Standing here looking at our masterpieces by the front door.”
They soak it in, the calm of the evening, the chill of the night, their wonkly carve pumpkins. Just let them be in their love. Mew had a thought that this might be one of those moments but Gulf turns to him, a soft smile on his face.
"I love you." And fuck if Mew's heart didn't melt and resolidify so he could continue to let Gulf hold it and take care of it. The next moment they're stumbling through the cabin, Gulf tasted sweet, chocolate and marshmallows against his tongue. The tang of arousal heavy in the air as Gulf raised the warmth through his body chasing away anything that wasn't Gulf from his mind.
Mew was picking up, Tul and some of his college friends were coming over for scary movies because that’s what you did, apparently. Not that he was mad, he just wasn’t a fan of scary movies but he was interested in the food they had talked about eating during the movies. Plus he could just pull Gulf into his lap and hide behind his back if he got too scared.
“How did these...?” Mew grabs the boxers hanging from the oven door next to the towel. He definitely remembers their morning activities where they made use of the big counters but he’s pretty sure he tossed Gulfs boxers to the ground, not the oven. Doesn’t really matter just means he made a good decision cleaning before the guest arrived. How awkward would it have been if Tul (or one of his friends) had found them instead? Though it could be worse, at least it wasn't lingerie or a toy.
“All finished?” Gulf says clad in one of Mews long sleeve shirts and flannel pants, hair fluffy atop his head from his previous shower, a few strands sticking up wildly. Mew pats then down before rubbing his fingers through the soft locks. Gulf groans softly in his chest, eyes fluttering to gives him a stare, a very tempting one. So very tempting.
They'd been having so much sex the past couple of days, Mew was pretty sure they were making up for the lack of sex they’d not been having the past few months because of busy schedules while also maybe stacking up for the sex they wouldn’t be having for a while once they go back to Thailand. Mew quickly pushed aside the thoughts of his already planned out busy schedule to pepper kisses all over Gulf face. Making sure to leave a big noisy one on his lips last before pulling away with a pop. He can't be tempted, people were on their way over and he doesn't want to be caught in the middle of something when they arrived.
“Yeah, we should be ready to have guests over.”
It’s a few hours later when Mew finds himself watch Gulf stir a pot of cider. There had been jokes about it being a witches cauldron and now that the dark amber liquid inside was bubbling it really did look like it. Mew was glad that Tul's friend Ann had already basically finished the apple cider because it takes hours to simmer, according to her. He wasn't sure but he trusted her judgment as someone who says they make it regularly.
Gulf giggles as he stirs the pot, Mark plops a witches hat over his head and the giggle turns to a witches cackle. Mew is the first to start laughing and everyone follows after in a chain reaction. Gulf seems pleased with himself with a satisfied grin on his face as Ann pulls him over the table to help with the cookies. The witches hat falls off and leaving his hair sticking up in the back and Mew has the urge to walk over and fix it.
Mark nudges Mew to turn his attention back to the pumpkin pie, he takes one last look at Gulf who shakes his head, the strands of hair falling back into place.
Mew wasn’t good at baking or cooking but this pie didn’t seem hard. Which it wasn’t. Basically, throw everything into a bowl mix, and dump it into the pie crust - a cinnamon pie crust Ann had made.
Mew sat back watching when the pie went into the oven to bake. Tul was mixing fresh popcorn with Carmel with Ann's girlfriend Veera who was also making ‘the absolute best’ roasted butternut squash soup. The cabin smelled of pumpkin, spice, and every nice while soft indie band quietly filled any silence with melodic guitar riffs.
“P’Mew.” Mew tips his head towards the voice, Gulf is holding up a cookie that looks like a ball with four stubs. “Chopper.”
Mew crinkled his nose in acknowledgment, a smile still plastered across his face, it was enough for Gulf as he turns back to the cookies. It didn't look like chopper but then it didn't need to, it was the thought around the cookie.
“He’s cute,” Mark comments handing him a cup of apple cider that was done deemed done by Veera moments ago. “You guys seem close.”
"Yeah, we are." Mew sips, coughing for a moment at the onslaught of cinnamon and clove spice hitting him in the back of the throat. Mark gives him a few sympathetic pats on the back.
“Should have warned you, Ann likes the kick.” Mark chuckles and Mew gives a small one as well once his breathing feels right again. He shoots a glance to Gulf who waits for the eye contact to send him a brief smile.
“It’s not bad,” He says taking another sip now expecting the spices. “I could get used to this.”
“Alcohol makes it better too.” Mark sloshes his cup before pointing to the fireball on the counter. Mew shakes his head declining the offer.
“Better watch out for your boy, I think Ann might try and adopt him.”
Mark was right Ann seemed smitten as she coos at Gulf. Pinching his cheek before wiping some cookie dough he’d gotten magically on his nose.
“He might take her up in that offer.” He laughs maybe a little too loud. “He’s probably tired of waiting for me to propose.”
Mark leans against the back of the couch and Mew follows taking a big sip of the apple cider. It's better now that he's used to the taste.
“Why haven’t you?”
He hears a question in his mind, one that he'd been silently asking himself for a long while now. Are you waiting because you think he will walk away, that he’ll leave you? That he'll find someone more worthy of his love.
Though he would never admit that to being a major underlining reason for his hesitance, it was. It rumbled through his mind more often than he would like to admit. It seemed like a silly worry to have when Gulf showed him how much he loves him every day in his own way. So instead he settled on the one that he blamed more often than not.
“I want it to be perfect because he’s perfect for me.”
Something big and dopey crossed over Mark's face as he nudged Mew's arm a few times cooing loudly. “I know what you're feeling buddy.”
Mark looked over to the table, Tul was now helping them clean up, cookies now in the ovens. “I’m engaged to Ann's sister.”
“Yeah?”
Mark chuckles, “Yeah we had decided we would get engaged and I told her I would figure it out. Every moment felt right but not perfect so I kept pushing it back and back until a year had passed and Mealie got so mad with me. ‘Do you not want to be married to me anymore?' she asked. I was a valid question. I told her I couldn’t find the perfect moment. Do you know what she said to me?”
Mew shook his head, sipping his drink.
“Every moment I’m with you is perfect so pick one or I will. And she did. Like a month later she found my rings and proposed to me right in the middle of the family barbecue.”
They both chuckle, Mark a little bit louder as a sense of remembrance crosses his features. “She sounds wonderful.”
“She is." Mark agrees, nudging him again this time it was softer, waiting till Mews attention was back to him before saying, "Not everyone gets to enjoy the opportunity of marriage they way we do, she said, I don’t want to waste it when I found the love of my life.”
Mark throws his arm over Mew's shoulder pulling him close. The smell of cinnamon and spices from the cider hitting him in the nose.
“Even here in the states, there are places that don’t accept it and other countries that condone it. If you get the opportunity to marry your true love, and it’s something you both want. Don't waste the opportunity waiting for the perfect moment, instead just make every moment perfect.”
“...Thank you.”
Mew hadn't pulled Gulf into his lap during the movie instead Gulf leaned against him as they shared caramel corn and cookies. Halfway through Gulf's fingers laced with his under the blankets, giving him a small squeeze every so often. Marks words rumbling around in his head, he drops a kiss to Gulf head, he didn't want to wait any longer.
(Mew hadn't forgotten to get all the recipes that day for Jom, he thinks she'll like these especially the gingersnap cookies.)
Mew wraps his arms around Gulf, looking out at the snow-covered forest. First snow of the year - said the news earlier. Mew was glad that they got to see it. Gulf seems entranced by the ethereal sight as well. The white snow packed down over the earth covering everything into something soft and quiet. Seemingly absorbing all the negativity of the world and leaving behind peace and tranquillity. Everything seemed to have a sheen of sparkles to it like someone had mixed them with the snow as it was falling. It was quite a sight.
“I sent some pictures to the family.”
“They jealous?” Mew rubs his nose into Gulf nape, inhaling the crisp cold air and Gulf's natural musk.
“Maybe a little bit it might not be all because of the weather.” Gulf wiggles until he turns to face Mew. Tugging the blanket around them both, cocooning them in its warmth.
“What else could they possibly be jealous over, if not this gorgeous view,” Mew whispers, placing a butterfly soft kiss to Gulf's redden nose and chilled soft cheeks. Then one to his lips because Gulf pursed them just so and how could he resist?
“You know I thought you had asked me out here to propose finally.” Gulf words were teasing and gently as he curls in to nuzzle at Mew's neck. Mew's hands rub over his back instinctively, holding him close.
They stand in silence for a moment before Mew begins to sway them softly. One hand caressing Gulf waist while the other moving to cup Gulf's neck, fingers burying in his damp chilled hair. Gulf sighs contently against his chest, fingers half holding the blanket and half gripping Mews shirt at his shoulders.
“I thought about it. So many times, I thought about it.” Mew's lips brush against Gulf temple as he speaks, wayward snow crunches under their slipper clad feet as they sway. “At the pumpkin patch, where you looked like you were made for autumn. Or after we got back from the stand and you tasted like chocolate and marshmallows. Or watching you talk in English with such confidence. So proud of you for that-”
Gulf places an open mouth kiss to Mew's neck before another peck to his jaw.
“-I thought about when we woke up and made love with the falling snowed as our backdrop this morning.”
“Did all of your thinking get you anywhere?” Gulf mummers against his chest and Mew tightens his hold. Their swaying slows to a stop.
“I thought every moment could have been the moment but then I worried that there would be a better one later if I just waited.”
Gulf leans away, eyes searching, and patient. "Will there ever be a moment perfect enough for you?" Mew knows Gulf would wait forever for him to find what Mew calls the perfect moment to propose.
"I'm starting to think my standards are too high." Mew feels the soft rumbley laughter against his chest. He lets out a small chuckle as well shifting to begin the soft swaying once more.
"Do you want me to do it so you can stop stressing over it?" Gulf looks up at him with sincerity and love and just a little bit of teasing.
Mew nibbles on his bottom lip, contemplating the offer, Gulf leaning against almost limply as they sway. Everything calm and serin, perfect.
"Maybe I should?" Gulf hums softly against his neck. "Maybe I should just do it because every moment with you is perfect."
Gulf pulls back scrunching his nose playfully as he shakes his head. "Cheesy."
Gulf tugs at his hair pulling their mouths together into a kiss - soft needing filled with everything Mew every wanted and will ever want.
“Will you?” He asks, a little desperately yet filled with hope. Lips brushing against Gulf as he speaks.
“Will I?”
"Marry me?"
Gulf exhales a little puff before rubbing their foreheads together. It's a little aggressive reminding Mew of their workshops for the first season of Tharntype when Gulf didn't understand how to show his softness through touch. When everything he did was stiff and firm and Mew had to ease his hand to be held or show him had card fingers through hair in a loving manner. Gulf huffs again and this time the kiss is forceful. Much like their kisses back then were. Like Gulf was trying to brand his lips with his own.
“I love you Ti Rak,” Gulf says in a low gravely voice before forcing their lips back together, teeth-gnashing and tongues wrapping around each other like he could get enough. It tasting like wanting and need. And a hint of desperate love. But that might just be from Mew.
Mew pulls away the reciprocated 'I love you too' on the tip of his tongue but Gulf cups his face, fingers gentle now as he pants softly. "Your perfect proposal is lacking rings."
Mew was sure it was supposed to be a joke but Gulf breathless words a small feeling of panic within him. Gulf seemed to sense his impeding overthinking by the hitch in his breath and forces another long, slow, kiss from this mouth. "I'm cold."
Gulf looks up at him from beneath his lashes, eyes swirling like a vortex sucking Mew in. "Warm me up?" He asks so softly.
Mew pulls him inside and tosses him to the bed, the blanket fluttering around him. Mew pulls away from the kiss with a pop. He almost lets those sparkling golden eyes draw him back in but he tears himself away, all but throwing himself at his stuff in search of the tiny velvet box. Gulf pushes up on his elbows to amusedly watch Mew.
"I was kidding about the rings-"
"I'm not though..." Mew makes a sound of excitement, box clutched in his hand before turning back to Gulf, one the knee on the ground. He tugs at Gulf's hand until he's sitting up and he holds the box out to him.
"You didn't answer before." He opens the velvet box letting the two matching rings glimmer in the dim light.
Gulf covers the rings with one hand while the other cups Mews cheeks, thumb rubbing a slow circle over his cheekbone. "You just want me to say it out loud."
"It's nice to hear."
Gulf snorts a small chuckle before pulling Mew up and over him on the bed. He pulls a ring out and slides it over Mew's finger even as the older boy is trying to shake him off muttering 'I get to do that.'
"Silly Phi." Gulf says slowly once the ring is on Mew before putting the matching on his fingers "I have been ready since the day we first kissed. I was just waiting for you."
Mews breathe hitches and his eyes water, Gulf rubbed their noses together. "Yes, I want to marry you."
Mew didn't know what he wanted to look at more, the way the ring sparkled in the rays of light streaming through the window, glimmering as snow falls outside their window reflecting off the ring or at Gulf. His beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, wonderful fiance.
"Cheesy," Gulf says looking smitten.
Mew pulls on Gulf hand to kiss the ring, then finger it's settled on, right under the bandage still covering his fingertip before trails his lips over Gulf palm to kiss his wrist. "But you like it?" Mew says hopefully.
"I like you and I guess that means all the cheese that comes with it too."
#MewGulf fic#MewGulf au#my writing#fluff fic#all the cute kisses#fall weather#pumpkins#snuggle moments
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A Frosty Experience
Summary: Willy goes to the pool to hang out with Brody when he meets a new monster.
Word Count: 1810
Read on AO3:
Willy couldn’t wait to get to the swimming pool. He was planning on meeting up with Brody today who said she would bring along her swim team friend. The lagoon creature could feel his gills puffing up with excitement. It was always fun to meet a fellow monster who enjoyed swimming. According to Brody he was a cyclops who seemed to be rather shy yet warm. The lagoon creature ran down the hall, his webbed feet whacking against the floor when suddenly he noticed the PE teacher Javi happily walking forward with a cup of pudding in his hand. His tail happily wagged back and forth, practically swaying out of control when he took the first bite of pudding.
“Man, I fucking love pudding,” Javi’s ears twitched and his eyes wandered over towards Willy who skidded to a halt.
“Hey there! I totally wasn’t running in the hall!” Willy gave a toothy grin to the werewolf who tilted his head.
“Okay, good to know,” Javi gave a smile then followed the lagoon creature’s gaze towards the sign for the school pool. “Going for an afternoon swim?” The werewolf’s tail had returned to a regular pace.
“Yep! Gonna meet my friend, Brody.” Willy proudly declared, his gills puffing out.
“How about that, I know that monster. She’s quite the swimmer.” Javi leaned over and whispered conspiratorially “Are you giving her a run for her money?”
“Yeah! She can barely keep up with my fast fins!”
Javi gave a small laugh. “Good, good. Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Careful not to run by the edge of the pool.”
“I will!” Willy sprinted off once more, completely forgetting the attempt to show that he wasn’t breaking the rule and running down the hall.
The werewolf laughed and shook his head good naturedly before he let the spoon wander back up to his mouth. “Mmmm, ridiculous!” Javi’s tail wagged energetically and soon the PE teacher’s focus was completely back on the pudding.
Willy continued to sprint to the pool and paused for a second when he didn’t see Brody already in the pool. He quickly shrugged it off and tossed off his jacket, taking his water containers off his wrists before kicking off his shoes. “The lagoon monster is back! Rahh rahh!” Willy’s webbed feet slapped against the floor and with a huge jump he cannonballed into the pool.
A few seconds later his head bobbed back up to the surface and he let out a series of happy fish sounds as his gills expanded then deflated. He lazily swam on his back and floated for a bit. It was nice to be in the water but it was way more fun with friends. If he had to guess where the selkie was, he’d bet she got distracted by a certain minotaur.
Willy kicked his feet in the water then dove down into its depths. Spinning around a few times he went from one end of the pool to the other. The lagoon creature popped back up to the surface and pushed back his wet hair. That's when he noticed her.
A girl with dark, stoic eyes was staring directly at him. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her right hand was busying playing with a smooth rock. She looked to be human. That was the lagoon creature’s guess until he noticed that frost was covering her finger tips. Small snowflake-like frost traveled up her wrists and was quickly hidden away underneath the mauve hoodie she was wearing. Was she a monster too? Willy thought about it for a second. He knew one thing for sure: she wasn't an abominable snowman. He had just learned about that monster today and she was definitely too cool and less hairy than they were.
“Hi there, I’m Willy,” The fish creature kicked his webbed feet and slowly moved forward. “What’s your name?”
The monster studied Willy's face for a moment before responding. “Allison.”
“Cool! Did you come here to check out the pool? It's super nice! You should come closer!” The fish creature smiled warmly which made the monster seriously consider the suggestion. Casually she moved forward and took off one of her shoes. The monster stared at the water, a sliver of fear dancing in her eyes for a split second before she dipped her toe in. As soon as she did so little ice sticks appeared in the water. Slowly they surfaced and gently spun round her foot.
“So. Cool!” Willy stared in awe and moved forward to examine the ice bits. The sudden movement and the fact that he was getting closer made Allison’s eyes grow large. Within seconds the entire pool was frozen solid with the energetic lagoon monster trapped waist deep a little ways from the edge.
“Sorry,” Allison whispered, her eyes falling and focusing on the floor.
“It's no big dea-”
Willy’s words were cut off when Brody let out a shocked gasp making the two young monsters look over to see the selkie in the doorway, her hand intertwined with Mitch’s. “Willy!” Brody ran forward with Mitch causing Allison to step back. Slowly the monster girl moved all the way into the corner, her eyes focused on the ground, flickering with guilt at what she had done.
“We gotta get you the fuck out of there!” Mitch let go of his girlfriend’s hand and angrily punched the ice but all it did was make his knuckles bruises. The minotaur hissed, his tail flicking back and forth in anger.
“Willy, can you feel your feet?” Brody looked over with concern toward the fish monster who seemed surprisingly calm about this.
“Nope, but it's okay. I’m sure Allison can just undo the ice!”
Willy’s confident words made Allison glance up, her eyes growing slightly larger. “I’ve only successfully done it twice,”
“Why did you freeze the pool then?!” Brody snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw Allison flinch.
“Hey, don't be mean to Allison,” Willy frowned over at the selkie.
“Don’t worry, Brodes. I’m breaking him out,” Mitch snorted and stepped out onto the ice. Stomping his hooves wildly he ran in circles around the lagoon monster who cheered him on.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I was talking with Minnie-” James froze in place when he entered the pool room. His hands hovered over the swim goggle that he was putting on his eye. His grip slipped and the goggle slapped against his face. “Ouch,” The cyclops shook his head.
“James, help me try to pull Willy out of the ice!” The selkie called back to her friend who jogged over. Both monsters grabbed an arm and pulled with all their might but it didn’t do anything.
“Oh, wait! I have the perfect plan! I’m gonna melt the shit out of that ice!” Mitch ran forward, slipping and sliding on the ice before disappearing out of the room.
“What's this perfect plan?” Brody called out to her boyfriend but he was already long gone. So she turned her attention back to ways she could break Willy out from the ice. Meanwhile James had noticed Allison in the corner and went over to check if she was alright.
“Hey there, I’m James. What's your name?”
The cyclops’ voice made the monster glance up before her eyes focused on her shoes. “Allison,” She continued to fidget with the rock in her hand, the frost quickly spreading across her fingers and coating its way up her covered arms.
James looked at the ice on her arms for a second. “Are you an ice maiden?”
Allison stopped playing with the rock for a second before resuming. “Yeah. Not good with my abilities though.”
“I’m sure if we take some deep, cleansing breaths and calm down you can unfreeze the pool,” The cyclops’ suggestion made Allison consider it for a moment then look over at the pool where Brody had grabbed the pool skimmer, using the handle and beginning to whack it against the ice.
“Stupid ice! Just. Break. Already!” The selkie tried again and again but it was no use, the pool skimmer metal handle was bent oddly and still the ice remained intact. Brody let out a frustrated groan. When she heard the sound of hooves grow louder.
“I got it, Brodes!” Mitch charged forward, a blowtorch proudly displayed in his hands.
Brody’s mouth fell open, slightly ajar at the plan her boyfriend had come up with. “Mitch, that's dangerous!” The selkie pulled her sealskin closer around her shoulders.
“I have to save Willy!” Mitch huffed, his tail flicking back and forth as he lit up the blow torch.
“You didn’t even bring the mask to protect your face!” Brody exclaimed in disbelief as the minotaur set the ice aflame with the blowtorch.
“Whoa! That's totally badass, Mitch!” Willy pumped both of his fists into the air. The flames sure were toasty and the lagoon monster could feel his skin drying up. Mitch soon noticed and immediately stopped the flamethrowering.
“Shit, sorry!”
“It's okay. Hey, Allison, do you wanna try to use your cool ice powers on the pool again?” Willy gave a toothy grin over at the ice maiden. Allison wasn’t sure why this monster had so much faith in her but it touched her heart. With a short nod she walked forward. Slowly she inhaled then exhaled, the air around her fogging up for a moment. The ice maiden’s eyes hardened and wind swirled gently around the ice covering the pool. Cracks and fractures appeared all around the ice making the fish monster watch in awe. Slowly the ice surrounding Willy became cracked enough.
“Hey! I can feel my legs!” The lagoon monster beamed. Brody and Mitch ran forward, each grabbed an arm and pulled. The ice groaned around Willy but eventually he was free from the frozen prison. He whacked his webbed feet against the tiled floor, a shiver running up his spine. “That. Was. So. Badass! You’re super cool!” Willy shot his hands up in the air and looked over at Allison who seemed confused why he was this impressed by her power.
“Nice tutu,” Mitch playfully nudged Willy who glanced down to see a small circle of ice was still stuck to his waist. Willy and Mitch laughed and the lagoon monster did a little spin when suddenly they heard some footsteps appear near the door.
After a few seconds Omid and Principal Christa walked into the pool area. The imp and the banshee’s eyes grew large at the sight of the pool still covered with ice that was now jagged and broken, the lagoon creature with an ice tutu and the selkie holding a damaged pool skimmer while a flamethrower lay right beside Mitch’s hooves. The group of monster students all shared a look. They were going to be in so much trouble.
#twdg#twdg willy#twdg allison#twdg mitch#twdg brody#twdg javi#twdg james#twdg wallie#twdg moody#fanfic#we are monsters we are proud au
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rk1700 december day 5, 6, 13: superior/replacement; comfort; assemble/disassemble
written for @rk1700december. day 5: superior/replacement; day 6: comfort; day 13: assemble/disassemble
female connor is called rhea. rk900 is called cronos.
summary: cronos and rhea get a new piece of furniture and get adopted by elijah kamski.
also on ao3
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It is the facility’s quarterly large-scale acquisition day. It means new equipment, new tech, new people, and nearly everyone is excited - a welcomed change and a reminder that they are not alone in the fight (Cronos is pretty certain by this point that there is a conflict going on out there, an intense and high-stake one nonetheless from how hard Anchor pushes him during training sessions. Exactly against whom or what it is about, though, those he has no idea about, and he leaves it be for now since Anchor doesn’t seem to be making an explanation anytime soon.) Even Rhea, who doesn’t quite understand what is going on, seems happier and more excited than usual.
What surprises Cronos, though, is that the two of them also have a quota despite not being Alliance personnel formally.
‘Is Rhea still staying in your quarters?’ Anchor suddenly asks one day as she reloads the thermal clip of her rifle. She had persuaded Cronos to let Rhea have some alone time while she taught him how to shoot, and Cronos successfully convinced her to wait for him in their quarters with a new box of building blocks. They exchanged few words until then, the recoil of the rifle against his shoulder and the blast of supersonic miniature slugs hitting the targets having become familiar sensations as a result, and although he is certain that handling weapons is in his programming, coating the slugs with his biotics to increase their damage is something new.
‘Of course,’ Cronos replies. The thermal clip isn’t completely spent yet but he reloads it anyway. ‘What’s the matter?’
Anchor raises her rifle again and spells out L. W. A. on the target. Her real name’s initials, maybe? ‘So you guys have been squeezing into the same bunk this whole time?’
‘I don’t see the problem with it,’ Cronos admits as he does the same to his target, RK9c appearing in the dented metal board. ‘We are close.’
The human looks impressed. ‘You guys need more space?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I reviewed the dimensions of your quarters. You guys can have a double bed which comfortably fits the two of you without sacrificing much living space, and since we’re requisitioning some new furniture anyway, I think…’ she puts down her rifle in exchange for a pistol and shrugs. ‘Why the fuck not?’
Cronos folds up his rifle and watches Anchor bury a few larger warped slugs into the target’s head. It twists and creaks under the force of the biotic fields attached to the slugs. ‘A bed is a lot of materials.’
‘Materials which we can afford to print,’ eject, replace. ‘There are already people who’ve said that they won’t be able to use up their quota of new materials and offered them up to people who need it. My rules are as long as the total amount of material we need doesn’t exceed the total allocated amount, I don’t mind.’ She holds the pistol with only her left hand and fires a shot. ‘I don’t want to waste anything so I think it’s good to ask you first.’
‘Then I need to ask Rhea too,’ he says before picking up a pistol and emptying all the slugs he can into the target’s forehead until the thermal clip overheats. ‘The bed is hers as well.’
‘Sure,’ Anchor fires a shot just to catch it midway with a strand of her biotics. ‘Give me an answer before tomorrow dinner. I want this done as soon as possible.’
Cronos nods and aims and then realises something. ‘Does it come with a new mattress?’
‘Of course.’
‘And blankets?’
‘Just go to the storage room and grab a few. Remember to wash them twice, though. Stars know how long they’ve been there.’
A plan starts formulating in his processors, and he can feel his face splitting into a grin. ‘Will the bed come in pieces?’
‘You don’t actually think we have a printer large enough to print a whole bed in its entirety, do you?’
‘Good.’ Then returns to his target despite his mind not being able to focus on it now.
‘You’re planning something.’
‘Just something for Rhea, Anchor. Completely harmless.’
Anchor snorts. ‘We are walking mini-nukes if we want to be, Cronos, even Rhea if pushed to her wit’s end.’ A shake of her head. ‘We’re never completely harmless.’
Rhea blinks at him after his explanation even though he has already shared his processing power with her.
A new bed, she repeats. For us?
Yes, Cronos replies. We have the space. We will have the materials. We can build the frame together.
Rhea picks at a loose thread dangling from Cronos’ shirt with her free hand. What will happen to this one?
Chugged into the recycler just like everything else, maybe, he sends back with a shrug. We might even save some material by reusing this one’s, who knows?
Can I roll across the new bed?
It’s ours. We can do whatever we want. Just don’t break it.
Hmm. Rhea wriggles until half of her body is lying on top of Cronos’, after which she tilts her head up for a kiss he gladly indulges in by slowly coating every single surface of her mouth with his own analysis fluid using his tongue. Her whines make a certain part of him fill with thirium, Rhea starts grinding against it and sending waves of pleasure through both of them, and Cronos flips both of them over so that he is covering her body with his and is looming over her. Yes please, she tells him, and they get lost in each other for a while.
Despite telling Anchor that he is going to assemble the new bed with Rhea, he knows it is very likely that he will have to either do it alone or ask someone to assist him due to the sheer size of some of the components. It can also be turned into a practise of his biotics, but he doesn’t want to hurt Rhea accidentally in case he loses control either. Disassembling the original bed is easy enough given his raw strength and the composition of its parts, though, and he is even allowed to chop some of the smaller pieces of the original frame into smaller blocks for Rhea to play with while the others - together with the now too-small mattress - are sent for recycling. He then goes to retrieve the components of the new frame after teaching Rhea to amuse herself by throwing the blocks around and is surprised to see a man he has never seen before waiting for him.
‘You’re Cronos, aren’t you?’ his body language is tense as if he is unused to situations like this. ‘Anna - Anchor - asked me to help you build your new bed. Everything’s printed out or shipped here; help me with them, can you?’
Cronos moves to help him load a particularly long plastisteel beam onto the trolley and notes the stripes on his sleeve. A member of the Council. ‘Is Anna Anchor’s real name?’
‘You can say so.’
An affirmative, then. ‘How about you?’ Cronos asks. ‘You know who I am but I don’t know who you are except that you’re in the Council.’
The man looks at his sleeves and lets out a small ‘ah.’ ‘Call me Elijah,’ he says and loads another box with a clank from the parts within. ‘Elijah Kamski, formerly known as Ilya Kaminski. Council member, traitor to the Alliance - according to some, at least.’
Cronos decides to carry the last box himself. With a cock of his head, he and Elijah begin their way back to his quarters. ‘I doubt you would be here if you had really been a traitor.’
Elijah chuckles. ‘Can’t argue with you on that.’
They return to Cronos’ quarters to Rhea sleepily pushing her new blocks around the space between her legs as her eyelids droop and her head nods every other second. Clearing the floor by giving it a biotic sweep, Elijah brings the package in and cuts through the wrapping with a crafting knife which came out of nowhere, and the mattress starts inflating itself upon coming into contact with air. They move it to the living room and lay Rhea down there, but after tugging her in and watching her squash her cheek against the pillow, she simply lies on her side and watches, with bright eyes, Elijah and Cronos set off to work.
They bring everything in and scatter all the parts in sorted piles on the floor but Cronos is lost. He has no idea on how to start, nor does he think he has all the tools needed, and the human looks like he’s trying not to laugh when he looks at Elijah. Then he does.
‘The Administrator programmed you to biotically charge at your mentor as an instinct but didn’t give you built-in construction manuals?’ A sigh and he sobers up instantly, wiping non-existent sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘How typical of her.’
‘Are you implying that the Administrator is a violent individual?’
‘Not inherently,’ Elijah sighs and shakes his head. ‘Anyways, let’s get this done before bedtime, shall we?’
‘Do we even have enough tools to build it?’
‘Look at these,’ he says as he picks up a beam. ‘The welts at the end. They’re supposed to lock against each other. No nails, no tape, no glue. Just tension and good ancient engineering.’ He puts it back to its original place in the pile and calls up his omni-tool. ‘Now I swear the instructions are somewhere on the intranet…’
Cronos doesn’t have access to a lot of things due to his identity as an informal on-site personnel but he delves into the databases anyway, hitting numerous virtual walls where classified data is stored and is reasonably out of his reach. He could’ve overridden them if he wanted to, but something in his programming tells him that it is not worth it, so he merely retreats and waits for Elijah to finish the job for both of them.
‘There,’ he announces when he finds it. ‘Level one classified, of course, because why not. Stick your hand into the hologram and it’ll transfer to you directly.’
The hologram flickers and blinks when Cronos does so, but he indeed obtains the blueprint and the construction manual in the span of no more than a few microseconds; with new information at hand, they at last start slotting pieces together into larger parts on their own before collectively deciding to put some of the bigger pieces together to complete the outer frame first, and the three of them - Cronos, Elijah, and Rhea who has climbed out of the nest of blankets and pillows and is sitting on the floor wrapped like a dumpling - stare at the hollow rectangle for a moment.
‘Are you certain it’s going to hold?’ asks Cronos. ‘It seems…’ he doesn’t know how to explain what he’s feeling.
‘It will be sturdy once the supports are added,’ the human replies in a reassuring tone. ‘Let’s get them in before it actually collapses.’
And so they hasten their effort and shoves the support beams in, Cronos nearly breaking one of them when he accidentally put too much force on it and Elijah nearly trapping himself between two beams when he very nearly places a piece which would have left him no way out, but somehow, despite their clumsiness and lack of experience, they manage to get the frame done in less than two hours in total, and they let out breathes they didn’t know they were holding in realisation.
Elijah meets Cronos’ eyes. ‘Mattress?’
‘Mattress.’
Turns out, their most difficult task is getting Rhea out of the nest she has made while they were still assembling the bed frame. No matter how much Cronos and Elijah coax, sweet-talk, or bribe with toys or food or kisses (from Cronos only), the most reaction they can get from her is a stretch of her body underneath the blankets and a few mischievous blinks that definitely does not stem from sleepiness. Time for an ultimatum.
‘If you don’t get up now, I’ll have to snatch you,’ Cronos says. ‘You know I can and I will.’
Rhea’s jaw cracks open in a yawn and then shakes her head. Very well.
‘Elijah, get ready to snatch the mattress away.’
‘Sure thing,’ the human answers with an incline of his head, and on a count of three, Cronos clams his arms around Rhea - together with all the blankets around her - and hefts her squirming body up as Elijah pulls the mattress and pillows away and drags them onto the bed with quick, agile movements that can only come from years of experience. He hops off the bed and brushes his hands together to relieve them of non-existent dust, and Cronos can finally throw both himself and Rhea - playfully, of course - against the supportive material with a bounce.
Rhea melts against the mattress and him.
‘See, Rhea? That’s what you’ve been missing out on,’ he says as he shifts to give her more space to roll around. She keeps making these happy humming noises from her throat which makes his heart swell with happiness as well. ‘There’s a reason we don’t sleep on the floor.’
Rhea hums. With a lazy stretch, she rolled over for one last time before latching onto Cronos as tight as she can - which is not very tight at all, but he can give her the illusion that he is firmly in her grasp.
Elijah laughs and ruffles Cronos’ hair. ‘You guys look comfy.’
Rhea deactivates her skin and requests for an interface which Cronos gladly accepts. Waves of drowsiness and contentment crash into his system, and he has to set up a filter just so that he doesn’t slip right into sleep at the very moment.
‘Indeed.’
#rk17cember#rk1700#dbh connor#dbh rk900#elijah kamski#dbh elijah kamski#oc: anchor/anna#detroit: become human#groom lake aftermath
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