#last doodle for the night because my wrist is giving up and in pain again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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BTS Reaction | You’re An Idol and Get Injured On Stage [Request]

A/N: But have you seen IU and Mr Park (Her bodyguard) I want a friendship like that with someone please!!!

Seokjin:

The dance break music started to play and you handed your microphone over to a stagehand going over to the centre and holding onto your member's hands as you got onto the back of another. You were supposed to be doing a flip for the dance move but at the last moment, they'd changed the routine without giving you all time to practice.

"ARE YOU READY!?" Another beat drop hit and you jumped into the air putting your arms out at the side and attempting to land back in the arms of your teammates but the beat was off and your members didn't know what to do, Jin screamed as he watched you falling down onto the floor hitting the floor with such a large impact that sound of a bone-breaking could be heard over the loud music. The music cut out as soon as you screamed out in agony not being able to control the painful scream you were trying to hold in,

"Medic!" A member screamed as Jin rushed over to you, your leg was clearly broken as it was twisted a way it wasn't supposed to be and you were crying out in pain.

"Jin! J-Jin!" You whimpered holding onto him as the medic rushed over to the stage, the lights cut out so that no one would be able to see the extent of your injuries and you were loaded into a wheelchair, crying hysterically as you asked Jin not to leave your side.

(X)

"I think I made it look better," Jin said as he pulled the bright pink marker pen away from his newest addiction to your white cast, it was covered in doodles that Jin had done whenever he was with you. Including several inscriptions of your name next to his followed by giant pink hearts. He hadn't left your side since the night you came home from the hospital, he refused to do anything that would take him away from you.

"Four more weeks and I can get this off." You mumbled grabbing a chopstick so that you could itch inside of the cast, it didn't hurt so much anymore and the doctor said you were lucky it was such a clean break or it would have taken longer to heel.

"Four more weeks and then the physical therapy starts." Jin reminded you, he'd gotten you one of the best physical therapists in Seoul since you wanted to be able to get back to work right away, you missed being able to dance around on stage but for now you were strictly confined to a chair while you sang along.

Yoongi:

Yoongi hated that you were doing this routine, there were stagehands carrying you as you laid on their hands as if they were a bed and you had to sing into a microphone while up in the air. You'd done it so much that it no longer scared you but to Yoongi it scared him every time you got into their arms, every time you went up there was another chance you could slip and hurt yourself or they could drop you and hurt you. He was so protective of you that if it was down to him you would be wrapped in bubble wrap and told to perform like that but this was one of your fan's favourite moves that you all did. You were singing your lines as the stagehands walked you across the stage, about to hit your mark when one slipped injuring herself and dropping you onto the ground in the process. You whimpered passing your microphone into your other hand as you tried to perform the rest of the song as nothing had happened but Yoongi knew instantly something was wrong with you, the way you were holding yourself was different and you weren't moving your arm correctly.

(X)

"I told you the move was dangerous," Yoongi said as the doctor wrapped the plaster cast around your wrist to secure it in place, you and the doctor both stared at him from where you were sitting,

"Don't say I told you so to someone who has a plaster cast on Yoongi...They hurt when they're set." You told him, the doctor started laughing at the both of you as she finished up your cast.

"You'll be free to leave in about an hour, I'll get you some pain medication to help the healing." You thanked her and turned back to Yoongi who was blushing at the doctor who had been laughing at him.

Hoseok:

Award ceremonies were your favourite, you got to perform and give people their awards it was something you loved doing.

"Next up we have BTS Performing their new single Stay Gold." You said into the microphone as the camera panned out and the live show cut to an advert, your co-presenter walked off the stage and you went over to talk to Hoseok before he performed,

"Baby be careful!" Before you could even think about what he had said you foot fell into one of the holes in the stage and you tripped forward hitting your face into the floor as you couldn't stretch out to stop yourself in time. You hissed holding your face as four people all helped you stand up and get out of the hole, you hopped over to some seats backstage Hoseok wanted to rush over to you but the music started and they had to go onto the stage.

"Go! I'll be here when you get back." You promised him as a medic began rushing to your side to help you out.

(X)

That night you'd finished the show by leaning on Hoseok with one leg in the air as you presented the final award of the night, all of your fans knew that you and Hoseok were an item so this was no big deal but as soon as fans saw your ankle Twitter went wild.

"Everyone thinks you did it backstage in the dressing rooms," Hoseok laughed looking through your twitter as you groaned to yourself, your manager told you it was up to you what you were going to tell them and normally you were open and honest about everything but this was just embarrassing.

"Just tell them the truth baby, they'll find it funny but at least you can laugh along with them." You glared at him as he started laughing and recreating the face you made as you fell down onto the floor.

"You owe me ice cream." You told him as you got off the sofa and limped over to the kitchen to get something to eat.

Namjoon:

It was pouring it down above the stage and Namjoon watched anxiously from the backstage as you performed with the rest of your group. There were a bunch of other idols performing today because the show you were singing on wanted to get some shots of the final day but no one had counted on it raining and making the stage dangerous. The camera panned down to you and you began singing into your microphone while holding eye contact with the camera, something everyone had to do when the camera came down to them. You rance your way to the back of your group getting ready to do more of the routine when you slipped on the water knocking into the main rapper and sending you both falling to the floor, you cried out in agony as you tried to move your ankle to get up from the floor. There were no second chances at this, this was the final take but Namjoon rushed over to you while your band members boyfriend rushed over to them, your ankle was already starting to swell and throb and your band member couldn't move their arm.

"CUT!" The music cut out as paramedics rushed over to you and your friend,

"It's a clean break," The paramedic said as he looked down at your ankle.

(X)

"Namjoon-ah," You whined as he got up from behind you again to go and get you something to drink, you'd only just finished the water he'd given to you and now he was rushing around. It was all he'd been doing since you broke your ankle, he signed your cast and then wouldn't leave your side. You understand that boyfriends were supposed to be protective but even this was a little much,

"The doctor told you I would be fine-"

"I want to look after you." You whined out as he sat back down behind you again,

"If you want to look after me stop moving every three seconds, you're comfy and I'm sleepy." You whispered to him snuggling against him as you got comfortable on his chest, you'd spent the whole night before in the hospital waiting for the doctor to put a cast on you and you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was sleep but Namjoon insisted you stay away even though you hadn't hit your head on anything.

"Can I just nap, Namjoon I haven't slept in over 32-Hours" He sighed nodding at you and letting you close your eyes.

Jimin:

You smiled at fans in the front row as you sang into your microphone,

"I LOVE YOU!" Someone screamed loudly making you laugh halfway through your line as you began performing the new comeback single with the rest of your group when your line finished you blew them a kiss.

"I love you too guys!" You yelled back looking at your security guard who was watching you closely to make sure nothing was going to happen to you. He panicked far too much but Jimin was the one who hired your guard, he wasn't happy with the one your company had given you and hired this one instead, telling you he was the best of the best. You began singing more of your lines when a fan reached out to touch you nothing new about it but this time he'd managed to grab onto your ankle and pull you quite roughly. You slipped off onto the floor next to the stage and cried out into the microphone. The music stopped instantly and your guard rushed over.

"Y/n?!" The fan who had pulled you kept trying to grab onto you again trying to pull you towards him but your guard pushed him away asking for more security to be put in place, your fans all turned to the one that had grabbed you and helped security hold onto him to escort him from the venue.

(X)

"He touched you-"

"My ankle, he held onto my ankle and pulled me down." You corrected Jimin who was red in the face with anger. He was ready to go and find the 'fan' that had done it when your guard came into the room with some more ice for your ankle.

"He could have broken your leg," Jimin was furious that you weren't more upset about this than you were,

"It's just some ligament damage in my ankle, it'll heal." You promised him hissing as the ice came into contact with your swollen ankle on the chair in front of you,

"We found the guy that had grabbed onto you, he's a Sasaeng." You and Jimin turned to your personal guard and thanked him for everything he'd been doing, from the moment you hit the floor he hadn't left your side unless it was to go and get you some ice or something to eat.

"Are you pressing charges against him?" Jimin questioned sitting down next to you as he stared at your ankle,

"Yeah, I-I need to do something to make sure it doesn't happen again right?" He nodded in agreement holding back to the comment that he would have done something worse to the guy that touched you but you could already tell he wanted to kill him.

"I'm fine Jimin," You leant up to kiss his cheek and he sighed the thought that someone could just grab onto you like that scared him.

"I'll double up your security, triple it if I have to-"

"You don't. I'm fine." You whispered kissing him again to stop him from ranting on about it all.

Taehyung:

You were performing in one of the largest stadiums in Seoul it had been your dream to do this since you were a kid and now you were finally doing it with everyone you loved around you. Your family were in the front row cheering you on while Taehyung - your boyfriend was backstage cheering you on since he couldn't be out in the crowd.

"You guys have been amazing!" Your leader screamed into their microphone as you went to grab some water from the stage,

"It's always been our dream to be able to play here and here we are!" You yelled into your microphone picking up a bottle of water and sipping from it, you were out of breath and panting heavily from the new routine you'd just shown them - a sneak peek into the next comeback.

"We hope you guys have enjoyed watching us as much as we've enjoyed performing for you but now we have to say goodbye." As your leader spoke you pouted out into the crowd blowing kisses to fans that were watching you closely.

"We'll be back though, we'll be back and better than ever!" You promised, laughing as they all started screaming back at you.

"We want to just-" Your voice was cut off by you screaming as a firework at the front of the stage went off without warning or in the correct timing, it exploded in the air but you fell backwards onto the stage clutching your arm as the sparks hit you.

"TOWEL!" Taehyung was on the stage within a matter of seconds holding a wet towel on your arm and looking into your eyes to make sure you were okay.

(X)

"Minor burns Tae, I'm fine." You told him as he paced around the doctors office in front of you, he'd rushed you to see someone right away even though you told him you were fine and the doctor told him the same thing.

"You could have been set on fire!" You held onto his hand, you knew why he was panicking so much but it was an accident, a small oversight and no one was seriously hurt in the process.

"I'm fine Taehyung," He walked over to you sitting down beside you on the bed as he plotted to find out who was in charge of the timing of the fireworks and who he was going to have to yell at for hurting you.

"Taehyung please I'm fine," You whispered to him leaning up to kiss him on the lips but he sighed at you, he was upset that you weren't more upset about this. It was something that could have seriously hurt you but you were brushing it under the rug as though it meant nothing.

Jungkook:

Jungkook was watching soundcheck since he couldn't be there tonight while you were performing, you were walking along the thing walkway where you could connect with fans during the concert that night.

"Y/n you have to do your turn!" A stage manager yelled through a megaphone to you, you rolled your eyes doing the turn as you walked back down the thin walkway. Jungkook hated it, it was the only thing he hated about the routines that you did, the walkway was a super thin piece of metal and you all had to do a turn on it, putting yourself at risk.

"One more and you're done." The stage manager said as you began walking up the thin piece again doing the twirl but this time Jungkook watched in horror as your ankle buckled underneath itself and you slipped falling down onto the floor and cutting your leg open.

"Y/n!" Jungkook sprinted out onto the stage coming over to you to check if you were okay, you groaned running your hand down your leg to see the blood on it.

"It's just a small cut," You lied trying to move away from Jungkook but ended up limping in the process, he helped you up and took you over to the onsite paramedic who cut open the jeans you were wearing.

"Shit." Jungkook hissed looking at the gash that was on your shin, a piece of metal had cut into your leg causing the wound but it was nothing that couldn't be healed with some butterfly stitches and a couple of days rest.

"I'm still performing-"

"No you're not!" Jungkook snapped looking at you and then to your manager who was nodding along, he saw no reason as to why you couldn't be allowed to perform if you were going to stay seated the entire time.

"I'll sit on a chair on the main stage, I'll rest it I won't dance." You told Jungkook who was making it clear he was against the entire idea of it.

"Jungkook-"

"We won't let any of them onto the walkway either, it'll be taken out of the routine." Your manager promised Jungkook that you would never have to do it again and it set him at ease a little more as you looked up at him.

"I still don't like it." You nodded at him, you understood why he was upset you knew you would feel the same way if it was him in this position instead of you.

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i-may-be-stupit · 4 years

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Idk the horney got me, so here we are HAHAHAHA 18+ and kinda a bit of crack at times, ENJOY!!!!! Oh! And this is reletively gender neutral, babes!!

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N). And you've always been known as a good kid. That is until your father was murdered by a hero. He did a lot of dirty work, sure, but he did it for his family to survive. And when a hero took him down, everyone cheered. They never though about his family. Nor his place in the world. They saw him as dirt. The same way you started seeing heros.

To you, heros didn't care about the villians and didn't care whether they died or lived. They were savage beasts who needed to be taken down. You became a villian. You would assassinate hero after hero with the simple tittle of "Marrow." And that's when you met the League.

They had the same ideals as you and could help make your dream a reality.

You joined the League, but you were still you. You were a seemingly innocent flower that blossomed in any form of villainous mayhem.

Your quirk was known as simply bone manipulation. You could manipulate your bones however you pleased and you could even shoot them out like needles. But, you were at higher risk for osteoporosis.

Its been 6 months since then and you've made yourself at home with the LOV. Twice and Toga were your closest friends now, but Shigaraki just hits different.

You'd go out and have fun with your two close friends, and to be honest, you're pretty sure that you three had pulled every prank possible on Dabi. Kurogiri was like a dad to you now. He gave lots of great advice and made sure that you kept up with your online college classes in between villian duties.

But shigaraki was a whole other story.

I mean, he was usually crule and hateful towards everyone, but the League was his soft spot. He treats members like family. He cherishes them. Even if he doesn't say it. He almost always have been putting them first.

And it made you kind of...attracted to him.

Yeah, he was dryer than the Saharan Desert, and had a diet of strictly microwavable ramen and redbull, but he was actually a good guy. You caught yourself staring at him a few times per day and your crush on him was appearant to you as well as all the other members.

So here you were, staring in awe at Tomura as he and Dabi played against eachother in Mortal Kombat. (They'd fight at least once a day, so Kurogiri made up the idea of fighting in Mortal combat instead whenever they got fed up with eachother) You blushed, seeing Shigaraki so serious. Ugh, there's just something about him...

Toga walked into the room and sat down in the loveseat next to you. She smirked before loudly announcing, "Gee, (Y/N)! It looks like your boyfriend, Tomura, is winning!" You started choking her.

No, deadass.

You fucking wrapped your hands around her neck and violently shook her head back and forth like Bart and Homer Simpson. Toga just laughed and moaned, causing you to feel too violated to keep choking her. You let go and as you did, Shigaraki stood up and started making fun of Dabi for being a "Bitch ass loser."

You blushed deeply, eyes lidded while gazing at the crusty boy. All you could see was Shigaraki, hearts around him as he did his breathtaking victory dance in slow motion. His gorgeous, dehydrated body swayed and jiggled happily as he jumped a few times, white specs gently fluttered from his head. His dandruff glistening in the florescent lights, as you sighed, absolutely smitten. Dabi rolled his eyes at his boss before looking at you. He then smirked. This cant be good.

Dabi chuckled. "Oh okay, Shiggy, you beat me fair and square." Shigaraki looked at him suspiciously. "It's okay though." He smirked, "Because I'm sure that (Y/N) can give me a little pick-me-up!"

The white haired boy glarred at Dabi then at you. Dabi slyly slipped over to you and Toga. He grabbed you be your wrist and pulled you up to stand. You were too flustered out of your mind to even do anything. He wrapped both of his hands around your waist. "Isn't that right, baby?"

You laughed awkwardly, "Dabi, not to be rude or anything, but you seem like a heavy man and I don't know if I could manage carrying all of your body weight if I were to pick you up, I mean my bones are kinda brittle as they are and-"

He brought his face to yours and kissed your neck softly. "We're gonna have some fun tonight, right?" You fucking hit him with a suplex, a small crack being heard from your hip. God damn it, your fucking brittle ass bones! Everyone burst out in laughter (aside from Kurogiri who was facepalming). Dabi sat on the floor rubbing his head in pain. "Fuck, (Y/N)! It was a joke!"

You folded your arms and frowned. "Well don't joke around with me like that!" Heat rose to your cheeks, "Especially in front of T-Tomura..." You looked at your boss to see him still too busy laughing at Dabi getting backflipped. You smiled shyly, holding your cheeks and wiggling like the love sick shit you are. He's so dreamy~ oh my, is he coughing up blood from laughing too hard?

You looked in disgust for a moment before sighing loudly. Ugh, it's so sexy when he coughs up blood! Shigaraki looked at his hand before licking the blood back into his mouth like a fucking heathen-

Sorry.

Your fucking heathen.

Later that night, everyone was out and about, leaving you and Shigaraki alone. He was drinking a glass of rum and coke as you doodled in a little notebook. You looked up to see him staring at you already. You both quickly looked away. It's been rough lately, dealing with your crush on him.

And Tomura was catching on.

Well, kinda.

He thinks he's really ugly and unworthy of love, so he thinks you just stare at him because you're still taken back at how hideous (he believes) he is. He's been wearing Father on his face more often and been getting more easily upset at you. But, he was also confused because he was starting to like your fragile self.

He's scared that he'll break you with one tap of the finger. That's just how fragile you seem. Shigaraki smiled softly, staring deeply into his glass.

(Y/N) seems so fragile, but they're a god damn hurricane.

Shigaraki swirled his cup around, deep in thought. How can they fight so well when they seem so brittle? It's strange. It's unexpected... It's interesting. Your boss' cheeks turned a tint of pink. (Y/N) can pull off a suplex on Dabi. Their back bent so far... I wonder what (Y/N) looks like arching it for me... He looked over at your figure. You were awkwardly dangling your feet off the couch, seeming to be lost in thought. Tomura sighed and took another whisk of his drink. They're way too cute for me...

There's been a lot of awkward times with you two alone. And you could both feel the tension. Shigaraki left to his room with a small sigh. He hates basically everything. But you? He might just love you.

You two hung out a lot actually. You'd play videogames together and have small movie nights for the two of you. You vividly remembered cuddling up beside him one winter night. It was snowing and you two chatted while sitting on the floor making Smores in the fireplace.

But it got harder and harder to be around eachother when you both started liking eachother. It got...awkward. And the night that Tomura asked you if you wanted to watch a horror movie with you and got a concerned face from you was the night his heart broke. You just didn't want to accidentally grab him at a jumpscare and have him laugh at you for being a pussy. But he thought that you just didnt trust him.

You sighed, thinking about that shitty night, and walked to Shigaraki's room. You had to tell him about your feelings. You knocked softly and was allowed to enter. Shigaraki was sitting in bed, wide awake, just sitting there, staring at the wall in front of him in thought.

You sat awkwardly on his bed in a tense silence for a good minute as the man just stared awkwardly at you through the hand on his face. Shigaraki sighed when he noticed you werent going to say anything, and he set Father down on his nightstand.

"(Y/N), I feel uncomfortable with you staring at me all the time." Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared harder at the ground. "I get that I'm ugly, but you should know how rude it is to stare-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" You glarred at him, anger boiling up. "The fuck did you just call yourself?!"

He glarred right back at you. "I said I was ugly, did I stutter?"

Yeah. Youre choosing to ignore that attitude. "Tomura, you're not ugly."

He rolled his eyes. "There is literally no other reason for you to be staring at me that much, mutt."

You folded your arms with a frown. "I think you're handsome."

He laughed.

He laughed hard as hell.

For a good 3 minutes straight.

"Oh thats a good one, (Y/N)! You know, I'm actually enjoying you-"

"I'm serious!" You poked his chest hard while getting closer to his face, your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "I think you have pretty eyes!" You poked him again, "You have a pretty face!" You poked him one last time, "And you're an amazing leader!" Shigaraki went silent with a blush and so did you. You twittled your fingers together, looking away timidly. "I-uh... I think I l-like you, actually."

Tomura chuckled breathlessly with concern for your mental health, eyes darting around uncomfortably. "Are you being...serious...?"

"Mm-hm..."

"Oh....okay." He awkwardly looked away from you with a small blush. Hes never had anyone like him romantically. Actually, not a lot of people even like him generally. And it made it extra weird with you being so damn cute and funny to him.

You layed down on his bed, anxiety rushing through you. It was weird to tell your boss that you liked him. I mean, its probably gonna be awkward between you two forever! Tomura layed down next to you. His hands overlapping eachother on his chest. You looked over to him with a small awkward smile. "So-uh... do you like me back...?"

Tomura frowned. "Are you fucking dumb??" You winced and he just rolled his eyes. "It would be impossible to not fall in love with you." A small chuckle left your lips as he softly started playing in your (h/t) hair.

You frowned. "Did I say you could touch my hair?"

He rolled his eyes before lifting you up to straddle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks. And you pushed his chest away as your (e/c) eyes darted away. "T-Tomura, what are y-you doing?" You were speechless and flustered. And it wasn't helping that his hands were laying on your waist (pinkies up of course).

Tomura chuckled with a mischevious look in his eyes. He slowly moved his hands up and down your sides. "Let me play with your hair...and as a reward..." He kissed you softly on your lips. "I'll make you feel things you've never felt before...." He licked your ear and you thanked the Lord for that because it just made his mouth a lil less crusty. "Deal?" His breath tickled your ears and your breathing turned into aroused, airy breaths.

"Deal..." Shigaraki smirked before kissing you roughly, his hand engulfed in your (h/t) hair, leaving his middle finger up of course. As his tongue darted around your mouth, he pulled your hair harder, causing a wince of pain from you. His lips left yours quickly.

"Am I being too rough?"

You smiled softly at him. He cares! "Oh, just a little."

Shigaraki grinned before pulling your hair even harder. "You'll get used to that." Your eyes widened in fear and pain as he threw you onto the bed roughly. He kissed you harder, and forced your thighs open with both of his hands, pinkies up.

He laughed with arousal, pressing his clothed member against you. You sighed as he grinded against your bottoms while tongue kissing you. His hands left your thighs and brought themselves to your body. He sucked, kissed, and bit all over your neck and his indexes and thumbs twirled and pulled at your nipples under your shirt.

"Ah-!" You moaned loudly as the man sucked at your soft spot. "T-Tomura!" A small gasp left your lips and his connected to your skin. Mumbled moans came from you, your hand over your mouth. Tomura glarred the second he heard a moan muffled. "H-Hey!" He had grabbed your hand from over your mouth and tightly gripped it with four fingers, pressing it against the headboard.

He grinned widely out of nowhere, "You really thought you could get away with hiding those beautiful sounds from me?" He sat up, unbuckling his jeans. His eyes went cold as he took off his pants and boxer briefs. "I'm gonna have to get some type of...hm, whats the word?" He looked away in though before smiling and snapping his fingers, "Compensation! Yeah...and I know just what I want from you." Shigaraki push you off of the bed roughly. You fell to the floor and rubbed your arm. He sat on the king-sized in front of you with his cock in his hand. "Suck."

You frowned at him. Did he really have to push you off like that? You got on your knees between his thighs and took a good look at it.

Fuck, he's hung...

You covered your mouth with a huge blush. Where the hell did that come from?! He was a good nine inches and quite thick. You frowned at him and pointed at his cock. "The fuck am I supposed to do with this?" He frowned.

Shigaraki didnt say another word. He just grabbed you by the hair and placed it against your lips. You frowned before licking the tip softly, making him laugh breathlessly. "Fuck..." You sucked on his tip and his hand tightened around your hair, pulling a bit. He looked down at you, smirking while absolutely flustered. "Ugh, your little mouth was made for my fat cock, wasn't it, (Y/N)?" He chuckled and pressed your head forward, forcing a bit more of him inside of you. Shigaraki panted as you bobbed your head back and forth on him. "Youre such a fucking slut..." His cheeks was tinted pink as he stared down at you. Tomura started bobbing your head back and forth on him. He laughed as you gagged on him. "What? Is it too big?" Your face went even hotter. How can he be so fucking conceited yet self conscious?! The white hair boy held your face and was practically thrusting into your mouth at this point. He threw his head back and groaned as cum filled your mouth. "Fuck, (Y/N), you're good at that." He watched you like prey as you thumbed the white substance dripping down your chin. You licked your thumb and he chuckled. "How does it taste?"

You smirked at him minscheviously while getting back on the bed. You took off your bottoms and short then spread your legs. "It tastes good enough to deserve a tip, right?" Shigaraki licked his lips as he crawled in between your thighs.

He rubbed you, playing with your slit. "Did sucking me off really get you this turned on?" You flushed and covered your eyes with your forearm. Tomura smirked mischievously as he licked at you. You moaned quietly, his tongue swirling around and his finger going in and out of your hole.

He stuck his ringerfinger in and you squeaked in pleasure. "Mmm... Tomura, I-just like that..." He sucked and licked, getting more sloppy as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He pumoed faster and faster and your small groans turned into loud moaning as you orgasmed. "Fuck Tomura! Ah-!" You came in his mouth, immediately apologizing. Shigaraki just licked his now soaked fingers and you just stared at him, blushing hard as hell. You smiled softly. "H-How do I taste?"

His red eyes prowled your body as he got on top of you. Your cheeks got hotter when he strattled you. You sighed as he rubbed his manhood against you. Small, flustered moans escaped your lips at his teasing. "You taste like you were missing something." His warm breath tickled your ear, "But I'll fix that right up for you."

Tomura slowly entered you. He groaned out your name in ecstasy. You were a bit uncomfortable at first at his thickness. "W-wait, dont move yet..." You breathed in and out slowly, feeling yourself adjust to him. A groan left your lips, "O-okay..."

Tomura grinded against you, kissing your neck as your hands fiddled with his hair. He started off slow, savoring the feeling of you. He sighed into your collarbone. "God, (Y/N), you're so tight..." He cursed underneath his breath, fucking you a bit faster.

Tears pricked at your eyes. This was almost too much for you. Youve always fantasized about being with Shigaraki and now that it was happening, it felt almost too good to be true. He grinded into you deeper, filling you up fully as his hand held both of tour wrists above your head. The bed rocked as he started thrusting into you faster and deeper. "T-Tomura, you feel so good inside of me!" He groaned louder and you couldn't help but become flustered at all of his noises.

He fucked you even faster and harder. "Fuck, youre mine now, okay?" You nodded and moaned louder at him. "Oh fuck!" His white hair bounced as he pulled out and flipped you over. You were on your forearms and knees, begging for him to keep fucking you good as he thrusted in and out, his hand pulling at your hair as the other gave the occasional spank on your ass. Tomura's thrusts became sloppy as you reached your peak. You both moaned loudly, his cum pouring from inside of you. Shigaraki pulled out and immediately collapsed next to you.

You panted as his arms wrapped themselves around you. You smiled at him. "That was good, right?" He chuckled and kissed your lips.

"The best."

You two spooned as Kurogiri had an extra glass of wine, in utter disgust at when he was forced to hear.

#fanfic #mha x y/n #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x you #tomura x you #x reader #bnha smut #shigaraki x reader #x fem!reader #x male reader #gender neutral reader

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Secret (Rafe X Reader)

Warnings:Literal fucking trash.Please dont torture youself by reading this :)

Can you do 3 from the prompt list with Rafe please where their parents basically forbid their relationship for whatever reason and forced them to break up even though they were good for one another and Rafe was slowly becoming a better person?

Rafe always knew he should keep his relationship with you secret.He knew that it was something too precious and too lovely to let anyone else know.He knew that his father wasnt accepting of people like you.Pogues.You were a pogue,you lived on The Cut and worked two jobs just to stay on your feet.

He didnt know he could love a pogue or anyone as much as he loved you.He couldnt really recall exactly what got you two together,it had been the work of fate.You were out for a surf while he was out for a smoke and your worlds just collided.He had seen you wipe out,only to come up to the surface a few feet away from him.You pulled your board from the water,standing up and smearing the blood from your leg.

“That had to have hurt.”He commented.You shrugged,walking to your towel that laid on the sand,pressing it to the wound.He had somehow ended up sitting next to you,sharing his joint to ‘help with the pain’.That one night led to him sneaking out of his house to meet you at the beach where you taught him to surf,meeting him in the mornings to show him baby crabs.

One of his favorite things about you was how you carried a pencil pouch of pens everywhere you went,drawing all over your arms and legs.Eventually you had convinced him to let you draw on him,drawing a giraffe on his wrist.He had fallen in love with it and with you.Every Time you saw him and the doodle had faded he’d ask you to redo it.It was just a reminder of your love.It was nice until his father decided to call him out on it.

“Did you realy get a fucking tattoo?”He had walked into the garage as Rafe was lifting weights,seeing the sharpie doodle. “No.”Rafe answered,putting down the weights and grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead.Ward seemed unconvinced,a grumpy expression on his face. “What is it then?”He asked.Rfe hesitated before answering,knowing what would come next. “A drawing.”He answered.

“You cant draw shit.Who drew it?”he asked.Rafe sighed,pulling on a tshirt. “A friend.”He answered. “What friend?”Ward pushed,being a stubborn bitch as always. “You dont know her.”Rafe answered,attempting to walk past Ward when the mans hand wrapped around his wrist,strong enough to cut off his circulation. “Her?Who,Rafe?GIve me names.”Ward spoke,his voice seeming threatening. “No.”Rafe answered,flinching when Ward’s gripped tightened.

“Why?What are you hiding?”Ward asked.Rafe let out a shaky breath,looking away from his father and contemplating whether or not to tell him the truth. “Her….her name is (Y/N).”Rafe answered,cringing at his words.Ward let go only a little,still holding tight but not so tight that his hand was purple.Rafe could feel his blood beginning to circulate again,his fingers no longer feeling cold.

“(Y/N)?(Y/N) who?What’s her last name?”Ward asked.Rafe gulped,his heart thumping in his chest. “(Y/L/N).You dont know her.”Rafe answered,tugging his arm away and going inside the house,Ward close on his heels. “I know enough about her to know that shes trouble.I know that she ripped up one of my nets,stay away from her.Shes broke trash.”Ward spoke,voice dripping in hatred.

Rafe turned around,fury evident on his face. “She ripped up one of your nets cause you were killing fucking dolphins-shes a fucking sweetheart and she works for every single penny shes ever fucking made.”He was close to yelling,unaware of Sarah sitting on the couch and watching the fight.Ward scoffed. “Oh,please.She’s using you for my money and you’re too ignorant to see it.”Ward rolled his eyes.

“She hasnt used a single dollar of mine!She’s never asked for money or anything you fucking asshole!She loves me for me,not for your money you selfish bastard!”Rafe shouted,his face becoming red.Ward seemed shock,not thinking abour it before his palm colided with the side of his sons face.Sarah let out a loud gasp,Rafe’s eyes widening before he ran outside and got in his truck,immediately speeding out and going to your house.

You were still asleep when Rafe came through your door,tears in his eyes.His face softened when he saw your sleeping figure on the couch,an old disney movie playing on your tv.

He kneeled down in front of you,watching as your eyes opened. “Rafe?”You asked.A smile came across his face,leaning down to kiss your forehead.You grumbled,sitting up. “What time is it?”You asked.He shrugged,kissing your lips gently. “What’s up with you?You seem sad.”You pouted,holding his t shirt and pulling him so hed sit next to you. “Im fine.”He answered,knowing he was screwed when your tongue scraped against your teeth.

Thats how he knew that you could pretty much read his mind. “You’re upset about something and your arm is bruised.Did you get into a fight?”You asked,shifting so you were straddling him and he had no other option but to look at you. “I got into a fight with my dad,its fine though.”He answered,moving up slightly to kiss you but you backed out. “Rafe,did he hurt you?”You asked.

He sighed,his hands trailing under your oversized t shirt-his t shirt-to rub circles on the warm skin. “Yeah,yeah he did.”He admitted,watching the way your jaw dropped slightly.You wrapped your arms around him,his head tucking under your chin as tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Rafe,baby,what was the fight about?”You asked.He gulped,a salty tear falling into his mouth.

“I-I told him about you and he got mad and-and I called him a bastard so he slapped me.”He let out a sob,his grip on you tightening.You huffed,twirling his hair in your fingers. “So this was my fault?”You asked.He shook his head,still holding you close to him. “No,of course not.Its his fault.”He answered.He cupped your face,kissing you lightly. “Can I stay here for a while?”He asked.

Most of the day was spent with him cuddling with you,holding you close and placing kisses all over you.You both fell asleep on your couch,waking up to loud pounding on your door.Rafe placed an arm over you,telling you to stay put.His heart was beating loudly,his hand shaking.The color drained from his face when he saw Ward at the door.It was too late to turn around,the older man had already seen him. “Get out here and come home.”The man demanded.You came out to the kitchen,a frown on your face.Rafe cursed when he saw you,telling you to go back into the living room.

“I’ll see you later today,okay?”He asked before walking out the door,Wrd immediately grabbing onto his arm.You were too shocked to do anything,standing there speechless.You had tried calling and texting him but they wouldnt send.He had blocked you.You tried messaging Sarah through instagram but that didnt work either.

You didnt even know what to do,resorting to crying on your couch.You found Rafe’s keys on your kitchen table a few days later,getting into his truck and driving to his house in the middle of the night.You had been quiet as possible,climbing up the side of his house and onto his balcony because of course he had a balcony.You could never understand why it was there or what it was for but you were thankful that it was here now.

You could see him on his bed,his back turned away from you.You knocked on the door,seeing it was locked.You could see him tense up,standing up and smiling wide when he saw you.He ran across the room,tapping on the glass. “He locked it,I dont have the key.”He told you,his voice quiet because of the glass separating you.You sighed,tapping along the glass before you got an idea,taking his truck keys and attempting to push them into the key hole of the door.

It was no luck and at this point you could see the desperation on Rafe’s face.You pulled off the keychain,twisting at the circle so one of the sides would stick out.His eyebrows furrowed,biting his lip anxiously as you twisted the metal in the keyhole,trying to get the door to open.You heard a click,he let out a small gasp before practically ripping the door open,pulling you too him. “He shut down my phone and locked me in here.”He spoke softly,his hands tight around you.

When you were about to suggest that he come with you his bedroom door unlocked,Ward staring at the two of you with pure anger on his face. “Get out of my house before I call the cops.”He spoke to you,his hand around his phone.Rafe shook his head,holding you tighter. “Dad-you cant keep me locked in here forever.”Rafe answered,feeling the way your hands were shaking around him. “You broke into my house and youre manipulating and abusing my son.Not only that but you vandalized and destroyed my property,you’re lucky I havent gotten you thrown into prison yet.”Ward’s eyes stayed on you.

Rafe scoffed,letting go of you and approaching his father. “Shes manipulative and abusive?Look at you!You slapped me and you’ve locked me in my room!”He shouted,probably waking up his sisters.Ward’s eyes widened. “Its for your own good!She’ll use you and then break you!”Ward exclaimed. “What?”Like mom did to you?”Rafe yelled,his fists clenching.

That had been nearly five months ago.A lot had changed since then.You had grown as a person,becoming friends with JJ,Pope,Kiara and John.B.Rafe had gone back to the way he was before he met you,a drug addict who doubled as a fucking bitch.You still missed him though,hoping that he was at least doing better since the last time you saw him.The Pogues couldnt believe that you had once been in a relationship with him no matter how hard you tried to convince them that he was different with you.They didnt believe you of course,they knew Rafe,not Rafe Alexander Cameron.

You had started to forget about him,the feelings he made you feel and all the memories you had with the boy.Then you saw him at the beach and everything just came back.The feelings,the memories,the feeling in your stomach.He glanced in your direction,eyes widening as he did a double take.He literally ran to you,a confused expression on his face. “(Y/N)-fuck,shit.Dad told me that he got you in prison-what the fuck?”He hugged you,spinning you around.

“Oh,wow.Nice to know you still think of me.”You giggled,looking up at the tall boy.He smiled. “All the time.”He answered,squeezing your waist. “So how have you been?I havent seen you in like...ten years.”You grinned.He shrugged,biting his lip. “You know,the same old.I tried to remember your number,dad took my old phone and gave me a whole new number.What are you doing?”He asked,looking around the beach. “Um...you know,vibing.”You shrugged.He nodded,sitting down in the sand with you,his hand holding yours. “I um….I made some new friends.”You spoke quietly,not knowing what his reaction would be.He grinned,licking his lips.

“Yeah?Does that mean you’re crushing on one of them?”He asked.You shook your head,rubbing circles on his hand. “No,its a nice change in things though I guess.I missed you.”You mumbled.He smiled,leaning forward and kissing you gently. “I missed you too,you still love me?”He asked,making you smile. “Always.”You answered,kissing the tip of his nose. “It sucks that we gotta start the whole secret relationship thing again.I wont fuck it up this time,though.I promise.”You rested your head in the crook of his neck as he spoke,kissing his collarbone lightly.

@sexytholland @28cnn @popcrone818 @fttayla @cherryobx @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @drewstarkeyobx @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @jjtheangel @outerbongs

@sunwardsss @meaganjm @httpstarkey @copper-boom

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #drew starkey #outerbanks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks rafe

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hiscyarika · 4 years

Text

Solace

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian finds solace in the place he leasts expects to.

Warning(s): Angst, Panic Attack, General Hopelessness (It gets better though I promise)

A/N: Is this hot garbage? I don’t know. I started out with one idea and then this ran away from me and became something of it’s own. I honestly have no idea what to think of this but here I am posting it anyway because I have no self control in this quarantine.

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He’s only a man.

And every man has a limit.

Din Djarin has reached his.

He doesn’t know the name of the planet that he’s landed the Crest on. All he knows is that the population density is low and therefore he can afford this moment to himself. To break down the way that a Mandalorian is not supposed to.

He sits in the cockpit. The child is asleep in the small crate he was able to fashion for the creature to sit in. Every so often the little one lets out a small hum in his sleep, and while he knows that it would be endearing to anyone else, it only sends a sharp pang through Din’s chest.

His head aches, an incessant pounding right between his eyes. His stomach is in knots. He can’t take in a deep enough breath, like the walls of the Crest are closing in on him. And the helmet only makes it worse. His breathing is quick and shallow, and he sits there in the pilot’s seat with panicked tears burning at his eyes. Until finally he can’t take it anymore. He stands, stalking out of the cockpit and down to the hull, slamming the button to lower the ramp of the ship. His boots thunder against the metal floor until they finally meet grass and soft ground.

The Mandalorian falls to his knees.

Din’s hands slam against the sides of his helmet, only exacerbating the pain he feels, but he can’t stop the frantic movement. He has to resist the urge to tear the helmet from his head, to throw it across the field and let the cool night air fill his burning lungs. But he’s already broken his Code. He can’t desecrate his Creed too.

Instead, he digs his gloved fingers into the grass in front of him, finding purchase in the damp soil. He holds onto it with every bit of his strength, because it’s the only thing he has to hold onto. He’s one man, wandering the galaxy with a child he has no idea how to care for. The entire Guild will be hunting him down soon. It’s a choice that he made, and he knows that, but he’s in over his head. With no friends, no family, no covert to guide him.

He’s alone.

He just wants to do what’s right, and he knows that he has by taking the child into his protection. But his morality, the Way, has never been more difficult to follow than in this moment. Part of him wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. It’s a small part of him, the coward in him, he knows, but it’s there nonetheless. But what can he do about it when he’s only human?

Din does his best to school his breathing, long inhales followed by slow, measured exhales. His tears run silent and hot down his face until they soak into the cowl around his neck. It’s marginal, but the release helps. The tension begins to bleed out of him. He doesn’t feel so disconnected anymore.

He raises his chin from where it had fallen to his chest, bringing his gaze up to meet the moon that shines bright and full in the sky. The light casts a silver glow across the field, reflecting off the beskar he wears. And though he feels better, he still wishes that there were someone out there for him to call on. Anyone.

“Please,” is all he whispers. Even he doesn’t know what he wants in response.

The Mandalorian rises, brushing the dirt from his hands and shaking his head.

“Din?,” he hears. And for a moment he swears he’s hallucinating.

He looks out at the field, seeing a figure approaching him. And as it comes closer he realizes who it is. How they know his name. His heart begins to pound in his chest. There’s no way he managed to accidentally land on the one planet in the galaxy that might hold the consolation he seeks.

He didn’t think he’d ever see you again.

“What are you doing here?,” you ask each other in unison, now standing just a few feet away from one another.

“Well, I came to see who had landed in the field. We don’t get many visitors here,” you tell him. “I’ve been here since I left the Guild. Sold my ship and never looked back,” you explain, your eyes still shining with concern as you look at the man in front of you. “Are you hurt? What happened?,” you ask, taking a tentative step forward. It’s been so many years since the last time you saw your Mandalorian. You wonder if time has chipped away what used to be so strong between you.

He sighs, and you almost smile at the fact that he hasn’t changed much. But worry still gnaws at your stomach as you wait for his answer. Something dire had to have happened to bring the Mandalorian to his knees.

“It’s...complicated. I can’t explain it to you. You wouldn’t understand,” Din replies softly, his voice strained even through the modulator of his helmet.

“I might be able to if you give me a chance,” you say gently, but you don’t press him any further. He’s never been the kind to put so much effort into words.

He’s quiet for a moment, considering your words. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

You shake your head slightly. “That’s okay. You don’t always have to have the answers, Din, despite what you may think,” you reply softly, finally closing the remaining distance that lies between you. You raise your hands, letting them rest lightly on either side of the helmet. He brings his hands up to wrap around your wrists, and at first you think he’s rejecting you, trying to tear himself away from you.

But then he lowers his forehead to press gently against yours, the coolness of the beskar sending a shiver down your spine. On instinct, your eyes slip closed and you take in a deep breath, breathing in the comforting scent of the man you thought you’d lost. It’s been far too long since you’ve been this close to him.

“I’ve missed you, Din,” you whisper, feeling your throat close up with the emotion overtaking you.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he breathes, his tears returning to him as he shifts, taking you into his arms and holding you as close as he can get you. Finally, he has something to hold onto. Someone.

You shift with him, wrapping your arms gently around his neck. You pull down the cowl just a bit, letting your fingers brush against his skin and the ends of his dark curls. He lets out a shaking breath at the contact, holding you that much closer. You don’t move away from him, even when the beskar digs into your skin.

“Whatever’s happening, I don’t care, okay? I’ll help you in whatever way I can,” you promise him. You won’t leave him to suffer alone, even if that means the peaceful life you’ve created for yourself, on the planet in the middle of nowhere, has to cease to exist. He’s worth more to you than the quiet you’ve escaped to.

“I can’t let y–”

“Shhh. Don’t. I can’t stay here knowing you’re in trouble. I can’t,” you tell him, quickly silencing him before he can refuse you. He releases another sigh, beginning to relax just slightly. Exhaustion radiates off of him, almost palpable. You pull back just enough to look into his visor again. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. I won’t leave you to do this alone,” you whisper.

Din leans down to you again, his helmet against your forehead. The substitute for a kiss but somehow more meaningful. Even in the silence there are words exchanged between you, things you’ve longed for years to communicate to each other. But no words can describe the solace that you’ve brought to the Mandalorian. This is his one blessing from the galaxy, and one that he won’t take lightly.

He’s only a man.

And every man has a limit.

Din Djarin has reached his.

But so long as you’re here with him, he knows that he doesn’t have to bear the weight on his own.

---

Permanent Tags: @theforceofdarkandlight @hail-doodles@aerynwrites @murdermewithbooks @themandjalorian@longitud-de-onda @readsalot73@lovingtheway @talesfromtheguild @mystical-934 @lavenderl3mons @tiffdawg @lokiaddicted @adikaofmandalore @blue-tidal-wave @forever-rogue @flower-petal-blooming@fleurdemiel145 @cable-kenobi @opheliaelysia @pynch-bug@pedropascalito @creamysacrilege @bandofmarvels @paryl@phoenixhalliwell @agentmoonshine1@randomness501 @starlight-starwrites

Mandalorian Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @adlerorzel-blog @mrsparknuts @deputytrash

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #star wars

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shinidamachu · 4 years

Text

Ours

Summary: The stakes are high. The water's rough. But this love is ours. Word Count: 10.816 Genre: Fluff? Angst? Who’s to say? Certainly not me, the author. Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

“Sota, put this thing away. I won’t ask you again.”

“Fine!” The teenager let out in exasperation, putting the phone back into the confinement of his pocket.

His grandpa was making him lose his mind. In the interlude of fifteen minutes, the old man had managed to rant about how kids these days always had their faces stuffed into some kind of screen twice.

The bit about damaging the sight and going blind by the age of thirty-five because of it? A lecture all of its own.

“In my time,” he began, making Sota fight the urgency to groan, “we treated the elderly with respect and behaved at the table. It’s a sacred moment!”

“We’re not even eating, anyway! Kagome and her stupid boyfriend are late.”

“Sota! Manners!” Intervened his mom. “We don’t want InuYasha to think Kagome’s family is made up of inconsiderate barbarians, do we?”

Sota rolled his eyes, but remained silent. It was gonna be a long night.

There they were, in Earth’s lamest restaurant, waiting for his sister to arrive with her new boyfriend, who, going with the odds, was probably a goody-two-shoes nerd, just like that Hojo guy.

There was no one his age within the radius of a mile.

He was starving.

And to top it all off, bored to death.

It wasn’t like Sota didn’t love his family. He really did. Besides, seeing Kagome again was something he was looking forward to. Since she had moved out for medical school, they hadn’t spent much time together and although the boy would never admit it, he had quite missed their daily bickering.

He just wished they could met at home, in company of his TV and video games, where he could actually avoid his grandpa’s constant scolding in the holy peace of his bedroom.

“Look! Look, look, look, look, look.” As if on cue, the man in question elbowed Sota’s arm, coaxing him to eye the restaurant entrance. He silently snorted, wondering why his grandpa felt the annoying need to repeat the same word grumpier and more demanding each time. Didn’t he know Sota could hear him just fine from the first one? Nevertheless, wanting to get it over with, the boy did as he was told. A silver haired gentleman stayed awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, his attention torned between the salon and the outside. Even from afar, his demonic heritage stood out, but the dog ears crowning his head wasn’t the only remarkable feature he carried. “See his arms? What a disgrace, to dishonor his own body like that. I pray you, my boy, that you never inflict such disappointment on your old grandfather. I couldn’t bear the pain of seeing my only grandson grow into mafia scum.”

Sota didn’t respond the overdramatic affirmation. He was wonderstruck.

In spite of the anxiety the guy irradiated, he still looked pretty cool, dressed on dark jeans and an elegant white shirt. He had his sleeves rolled up to the biceps, displaying an impressive amount of tattoos. They covered all of the skin, from his wrists to his forearms, possibly ending at the shoulders. It was hard to make out the different shapes, given the distance, but every single one was drawn in black ink.

“Stop staring, you two.” Sang his mom. And Sota was about to obey.

But then, in entered his sister.

Kagome clung to the tattooed, supposedly criminal man, causing him to relax on the spot as her gaze scanned the room.

When the girl finally found them, her face lighted up in an excited smile. She said what, reading her lips, Sota interpreted as ‘there they are’ before taking him by the hand and heading right to their suddenly silent table.

It seemed that the night wouldn’t pass by without its share of emotions, after all.

“InuYasha,are you ready? I don’t want to be late!”

The hanyou sighed in front of the mirror. Did she mean finished with dressing up ready or psychologically ready? It didn’t matter. The answer was no for both.

InuYasha had tried on almost every clothe he had. It served him right for letting piles and more piles of worn-out band t-shirts compose his wardrobe.

His mother had a point. He could definitely use a little makeover.

Every piece felt either too ordinary or too odd, so InuYasha gave up and went back to the button-down shirt he had put first — one of the few decent things he had to wear.

Now closed in their bathroom, determined to pay his mother’s atelier a visit as soon as possible and obsessively aligning the outfit, he couldn’t help but think the reflection staring back didn’t look like him at all.

“Actually, can we reschedule?”

“No way!” Squeaked his girlfriend, her steps louder and louder in her approach. “We’ve been postponing this for too long. Okay, I’m coming in!” She announced, opening the door at once.

“Whatever happened to privacy?”

“It moved out when I moved in.” His girlfriend threw him her best heart stopping smirk and walked in his direction. “Don’t you look gorgeous?”

“Keh. You always say that.” And he had yet to hear it without blushing.

“It’s always true.” Kagome wrapped her arms around his neck. With the extra inches the heels provided, she was nearly his height and her rose lips hovered temptingly within the reach of his. “Won’t you get hot on this shirt, though? We’re in the middle of summer.”

“I’ll be fine!” InuYasha burst out before he could bite back his tongue. Kagome considered him attentively, her narrowed eyes growing wide in realization.

“You’re hiding the tattoos, aren’t you?”

InuYasha looked away.

“I want them to like me.”

It was a difficult enough task to achieve. Being a half breed, he was despised by demons and feared by humans — apparently his ears, fangs and claws, not to mention the unusual color of his eyes and hair, were a lot for them to take in. The absolute last thing InuYasha needed was for her family to think he was some sort of delinquent too. Which, of course, they would.

He figured, since people would be afraid of him either way, he might as well took it to his advantage and do whatever he wanted, consequences be damned. As a result, whoever wasn’t scared of his demon blood sure pissed their pants at the sight of his tattoos, taking him for a criminal. InuYasha couldn’t care less. There was a good amount of fights against human opponents he won that way.

But that was before her.

Not caring is easier when you have nothing to lose.

InuYasha didn’t doubt his actions would blow up on his face, eventually. It was all they ever did. But never, not even in a million years, he could have predicted Kagome. Now consequences were here to bite him in the ass.

Her folks had plenty to unpack the way it was. At least with the tattoos he could do something about.

“InuYasha…” Her slender fingers caressed his chin, demanding his focus entirely for herself. He complied. “You don’t have to do this. I want you to be yourself.” She grabbed his right arm and rolled the sleeve all the way up, revealing the intricate mosaic of figures, doodles and forms he collected along the last decade. “They are going to love you.”

“Easy for you to say, now that my family worships the ground you walk on.”

It had only taken a mild sunday lunch. By the end of it, Kagome had Mr. and Mrs. Taisho eating from the palm of her hand, just like she had their son. That was the day his mother had furtively handed him the engagement ring she inherited from her mother, claiming Kagome was the one he should give it to when the right moment comes. There was no falter from his part.

A month had passed, Kagome and his mom texted one another on a daily basis, and the damn thing still weighed deep inside his pocket. InuYasha carried it with him everywhere, waiting for the perfect occasion and concerned that she might find it if he left it lying around.

“Well, worship is such a strong word...” Said Kagome, doing with his left sleeve the same thing she did with the other, but this time allowing herself to trace the black marks of his arm, lingering on the newest, the little sakura flower InuYasha had gotten solely for her. He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, maybe your parents do it a little bit, but your brother hates my guts. You gotta give me that.”

“Nah, Sesshoumaru hates everyone. You ain’t special.”

“Huh… Thanks?”

InuYasha smiled at her adorable grimace, but it was short lived.

“What if they don’t? Like me, I mean.”

Both of them knew it was a real possibility.

If they were being honest, they hated each other at the beginning themselves. Most of it, undoubtful, due to repressed sexual attraction. Still, they were constantly jumping at each other’s throats before starting to jump at each other’s bones.

Attracting and repelling like magnets, they have been through a crazy amount of screaming, crying and slamming doors. Once it was clear that what they had was much more than sex, the need had risen to protect that love at all costs.

They had to.

Every odd was against them.

He was a half demon. Most people hated him at worse and tolerated at best — and that had a lot to do with his family’s money, Kagome being one of the uncommon exceptions. In fact, she was the exception to essentially every rule he had.

She was also a human. No, not only a human. That would be too easy. The girl was a priestess. Her family was responsible for a fucking shrine.

Their relationship was the epitome of taboo.

So they had kept it on the low for as long as they could, adopting a discreet profile even after she moved in with him. They didn’t want to risk it, didn’t want to jinx it. It wasn’t worth it.

Their love was theirs and theirs alone, too precious to fall into the cruel claws of the world.

It was a shame it couldn’t stay that way forever.

Sooner or later they would have to leave the safe heaven inside those walls and he was terrified of finding out whether or not they could take it.

Kagome’s kindness, her unprejudiced beliefs... They had to come from somewhere, and she affirmed it was from her family. How would her folks react, however, once those beliefs were put to the test? InuYasha learned from experience that, sometimes, people struggled to stick to their morals the second they stopped being convenient.

“Then it will be just another bump on the road. What’s one more?”

Her hands flew to undo his top button — and nothing more. Tensing involuntarily when her digits contacted the exposed skin, InuYasha let out a shaky breath as she retreated to explore his chest over the shirt, shamelessly going lower.

“Weren’t you the one in a hurry just now?”

“I am.” She defied.

“I’m not.”

InuYasha placed his hands on her waist and pressed her against the nearest wall. He couldn’t help it, not after the things she said. Especially when she said them with that dress on — light blue, contrasting with the darkness of her hair, the skirt hugging her waistline, widening at the bottom. No sleeves. Only provocative, unbelievably thin straps. So different from her everyday white clothes.

It was his favorite and he had no doubt it was intentional.

“InuYasha…”

Her mouth was off limits. InuYasha knew better than to mess up her makeup mere minutes away of such important event. Her neck, on the other hand…

“Don’t you look gorgeous?” He asked, nose burying on her skin.

“Uh, uh. D-don’t you sweet talk me.” Kagome tilted her head, giving him unrestrained access and grabbing a handful of his hair as he hooked her leg around him, fingers lifting her skirt up, venturing further and further.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She was limp in his embrace. InuYasha recognized by instinct when his body was the only thing preventing hers from melting to the ground.

“We… We’re doing this.”

“I know.” He eagerly kissed her collarbone, downing to the start of the cleavage.

“It’s just a harmless dinner...” She was panting now, nails traveling through his back, applying sufficient pressure to make quite the damage had he been naked. InuYasha went up her throat, his tongue wandering free.

“Hmmm.”

“...And then… T-then we’ll go... to my childhood house.” Kagome paused and he knew it was to hold back a moan as he relentlessly kissed his way up to her chin and jawline, finding destination at her earlobe. “You’ll get…” He bit it. “... T-to see my old bedroom,” bargained her. InuYasha smirked.

“I’m listening,” he whispered, returning to her neck. InuYasha had every intention to suck on the inviting flesh until it left a mark, but restrained himself. Something told him her family wouldn’t be fond of it.

His resolve not to claim her lips, though, were increasingly fading. Whatever. Better beg for her taste now and for her forgiveness later.

Reading his thoughts — as she often did —, Kagome gently pushed him away. Good. Their proximity, allied with the escalating scent of her arousal, wasn’t making them any favors in the ‘getting out of the house’ department.

“Come on,” she tapped his hand, subtly pleading for him to release her leg, a lead that InuYasha followed with extreme reluctance. He observed as his girlfriend regained composure. The fingers that not long ago were mapping, grasping and scratching every inch of him now fixed the dress strap he had no memory of pulling down. To a newcomer, it would look as if nothing had ever happened. “We’ll have a wonderful time.”

“To be fair, I was having a wonderful time just now.”

“Oh, I can tell you were. That’s exactly why we better get going.”

“Fine.” InuYasha sighed, letting himself be dragged out of their bathroom as she giggled at his less than thrilled disposition.

And there was something about her laughter — so vibrant and carefree — that, combined with the welcome comfort of her hand on his, made InuYasha feel invincible. Having Kagome by his side was like entering the boxe ring already ten points ahead.

“Do you want to go through the basics again?”

Crossing the living room, InuYasha recited his mental notes without missing a beat, the perfect picture of an A+ student, even if for the most part of his life, he had been a solid C+.

“Don’t swear. Don’t bring up your father. Don’t mention we live together.”

“Good! Unless...” Kagome stopped and turned to him. Half hesitant, half hopeful. “Do you think I should tell mom I moved here?”

InuYasha was conflicted. It was only fair that she did. His parents had heard the news the day she brought all of her stuff in. And in spite of knowing he’d give her the world if she so wished, Kagome never asked for much.

Yet, he was scared. Scared that Mrs. Higurashi disapproved the arrangement. Scared she would tell her daughter to leave.

What, then?

He had forgotten how his apartment — their apartment — used to be before the bright colors and pout-porris. Before the plants, the second toothbrush on the sink, the pictures frames and the intoxicating scent her body left all over the sheets.

And he didn’t want to remember.

According to Kagome, however, her mother was an understanding, open-minded woman, who put her children’s happiness above everything else. Which certainly worked in his favor, since InuYasha had turned making Kagome happy into his daily mission and, modesty aside, he believed to be doing a pretty damn good job so far.

InuYasha starred at their fingers, still interlocked, and reminded to be brave.

“If you feel like you should...”

“I do! I honestly do. We used to tell every little thing to each other. I miss that.”

“Then go ahead.”

“Really?” She thanked him with a tight hug, her palpable excitement coming off her in a giant wave that almost washed all of his doubts away. Almost.

“What about the others?”

“Sota is a child, it’s not of his business.”

“And your grandfather?”

Kagome moved within his embrace, revealing pursed lips when she did.

“Yeah... He’ll definitely need more time. Let’s give it three to five years!”

A surprised laugh left his lips when he saw the truth behind the joke.

“You’re freaking out about telling him, aren’t you?”

“Am not!”

“You totally are!” He said, deflecting from the fact that he, too, was panicking and that waiting five years or more to have that talk was actually a very appealing idea.

“It’s just… He can be a tad traditional sometimes.”

“Awesome!” InuYasha said, with every drop of sarcasm he could gather. “We both know I’m all about traditions.”

Smiling, she reached for his hand again.

“Shall we?”

They call it ripple effect. It’s the situation in which one event produces a certain impact, inevitably spreading and producing further consequences. The concept usually comes with the classic example of throwing a rock in a steady pond, which InuYasha thought fitting. Whenever the half demon first stepped into a crowd of strangers, he pretty much felt like that rock.

Heads would turn straight to him in cascade. Surprise. Terror. Disgust. Condescension. Pity. As years went by, he had gotten it all.

Be as it may, soon enough the staring would abruptly get directed anywhere else and be replaced with whispers they didn’t know he could hear. Eventually, the waters would settle, but after the initial contact, the pond could never go back to the way it was. Neither could the rock.

His father had taught him to keep his chin up no matter what. The hatred of lesser men was an irrelevant price to pay for being unique. He should be proud of who he is. His mother had told him not to seek validation from others when he already had people who loved and cared for him unconditionally. Those were the guidances InuYasha religiously lived by. Still, sometimes, the hanyou wished he was allowed to just be.

That night was surely the case.

The restaurant was crowded. It should be, in such a busy hour. The habitual glaring didn’t go unnoticed by InuYasha when he walked in — it bore holes on his flesh and broke into his bones. As usual, he brushed it off.

His focus oscillated like the flames inside the ornamental lanterns that provided warmth to the place in shades of red, orange and yellow.

Before him, undistinguished buzz raised above the background music and the pervasive smell of food served as a cruel reminder that he hadn’t put anything in his stomach since lunch. The lights, the sounds, the people, the scents. It was an overwhelming sensation to contemplate it all. In another day, in a calmer state of mind, he would have spotted her family in a heartbeat. Kagome, the loving daughter she was, had shown him enough pictures of them for the task to be a child’s play. Still, he didn’t dare to look. Not yet. Not when he was so unsure of what he might find written all over their faces. The same phrases on different pages.

Behind him, a delighted Kagome chatted in the staircase with the woman she had introduced as her middle school history professor. InuYasha had promptly forgotten her name. In no mood for engaging the conversation and wanting to save all of his small talk for dinner, he had politely excused himself, opting for walking ahead while the two of them reminisced.

Obviously, he had underestimated her communication skills, because a considerable amount of time had passed until Kagome caught up to him. Her arm tangled up with his quite easily. All at once, everything was gone, reduced to the speck of dust they were. There was only Kagome, searching the room in concentration. And there was only him, dazed by the smile that accommodated so well on her face, by the colors dancing on her cheeks and lights glittering on her eyes.

“There they are!” Kagome announced, breaking the spell.

His throat went completely dry. On his brain, sirens ran off, telling him to run for his life. How disappointed would she get if he grabbed her and fled? InuYasha also wondered, in vain, what the opponents he had faced would think, if they discovered what a coward the man who had ruthlessly knocked them out truly was. Kagome guided him towards the table where her family awaited, dispelling the intrusive thoughts away.

“Sorry we’re late!” She sat down and so did InuYasha, taking the free spot by her side. “We got caught up in traffic.”

“That’s alright, honey.” Mrs. Higurashi reassured with a tone as sweet as her smile. “I’m just glad you’re here now. We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. So much!” She replied, drinking each component of her family in, as if to carve their features into her memory so she might have something to hold onto until they met again. After a brief pause, Kagome kicked off the introductions. “Everyone, this is InuYasha. InuYasha, this is my family.”

Her grandfather was a perfect materialization of the pictures InuYasha had seen, with his wrinkled skin, grey hair and stoic expression. Her mother, too, matched up his expectations. The woman portrayed an effortless type of beauty, all dimples and heart-shaped face framed by wavy, short brown hair.

It was Sota who surprised him the most.

From Kagome’s descriptions, InuYasha was under the impression the boy would be way smaller than he actually was — although he was small, considering he was still a child. The half demon couldn’t decide if Kagome was oblivious to Sota’s growth due to her crazy student schedule or if it was her big sister bias that affected her judgement, but it was clear that Sota was gonna be taller than her in the near future. The boy also looked very clever for his age — even to someone in InuYasha’s case, who knew little to nothing about kids — and stared at him with something suspiciously close to expectancy.

InuYasha cleared his throat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The reciprocal is hardly true.” Whipped a dissonant baritone, so rigid it cut the air. “I haven’t heard much of you, that’s for sure and certain.”

There was no naivety left on InuYasha to believe the lack of reciprocity the man mentioned had anything to do with whether Kagome had told them detailed stories about her new boyfriend or not.

Apparently, Mrs. Higurashi had picked up on how shallow his last sentence sounded as well, because she was quick to swoop in and smooth things over.

“You were, indeed, a mystery, InuYasha.”

“I told you why.” Intervened Kagome, in an apologizing tone. “We were still figuring things out.”

“Well, if you two are done with figuring things out, can we please eat?” Sota retorted. InuYasha had no complaints there. Unfortunately, the elderly man interrupted them with the unapologetic conviction of someone who wasn’t aware a conversation was being had, or that simply didn’t care.

“Are you a Yakuza member?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by the hanyou that the man had addressed him twice without calling his name once. Nonetheless, the question was absolutely directed to InuYasha. Even if the word ‘Yakuza’ wasn’t instantly associated with the tattoos he carried, there were other indications. The abrupt silence that followed, one step away from a cliff of awkwardness, for instance. Or the hawk eyes of Kagome’s grandfather, studying his every move.

Luckly, he had warned his girlfriend in advance something like that could happen. More often than not, it did. To the point where he was used to it. And as much as she didn’t like it, he resolved to brush it off, at least for the night.

“Because of the tattoos?” He asked, playing dumb. “I get that a lot, but no. I just think they’re cool.” InuYasha shrugged, then felt the uncontrollable need to over explain himself: “The tattoos, I mean. Not the mafia.”

That earned him a laugh from Sota and a chuckle from Mrs. Higurashi. Kagome and her grandfather didn’t find it so funny.

“Grandpa, tattoos are very common thing all around the world! Don’t you think if everyone who had one was a Yakuza member, we’d be in serious trouble by now?” InuYasha observed her spit the acid comeback, thrown off to see their parts inverted. Usually, he was the one starting fires left and right and she was the placid source of water that always put them down. Again, the man ignored it.

“Then what do you do for a living?”

InuYasha almost smirked. That was precisely the sort of cliche interrogatory he was expecting — no, that he was wishing. After walking on so many eggshells, they were finally entering known territory and, as he felt the firm path of a parents pleaser answer forming under his feet, his confidence boosted.

“I’m majoring in business administration. My father wants my brother and I to learn as much as we can, if we’re gonna run the family company someday.”

It was extremely satisfying to watch the guy trying and failing to come up with any judgemental thing to say. His mouth sealed into a thin line.

“But what InuYasha really wants is to be a boxer.”

His head snapped to Kagome, astonished that she would turn him in there and then. The girl was not kidding when she demanded him to be himself.

“No way!” Sota exclaimed the words in the precise way his sister did when she was excited.

“Isn’t this dangerous, dear?” Mrs. Higurashi was genuine concerned. Her cinnamon irises studied him carefully, as if already searching for wounds. It reminded him of his own mother.

“Actually, InuYasha is undefeated.” Kagome replied for him, not bothering to hide the pride tone in her voice.

So it’s chill when you brag about it, but when I do, I’m a cocky jerk. He amused, simultaneously deciding it sounded better when she did, anyway.

“Awesome! How come I have never seen you fight on TV?”

At Sota’s crescent interest, InuYasha answered in a bursting of atypical modesty.

“I didn’t get there just yet.”

“I’m sure it’s a matter of time.” Encouraged Mrs. Higurashi. Kagome’s grandfather scoffed. “I must ask you, though: how did you two met?”

“My sister isn’t the most athletic of girls.” Agreed Sota.

“I can’t believe I missed you.” The girl fired back.

“That’s true. But I can tell you first hand that she’s got a mean right hook.”

Her brother was thrilled. Her mom, not so much.

“She punched you?”

“Oh, my.”

“No! I gave her a couple of self defense classes, that’s all.” InuYasha hurried to explain.

“Oh!” Mrs. Higurashi seemed visibly relieved her daughter didn’t walk around purposefully breaking the criminal code. “Well, in that case I really appreciate it. Thank you, dear.”

“So that’s how you met? Self defense classes?”

“Not quite.”

The self defense classes came way later, in what InuYasha labeled as the ‘denial’ phase.

It started on a random night. They were arguing over something stupid, for a change. Things escalated rather fast and, against his better judgement, they had angry sex on her couch. He hadn’t thought much of it back them, telling himself they were just blowing off steam, that it wouldn’t happen again.

Only it did.

Over and over.

It was useless to fight it. No way to escape it. After a while, InuYasha had stopped trying and accepted the fact that every road lead him back to her bed. What he couldn’t, wouldn’t, refused to acknowledge, however, was that somewhere along the way, an invisible line was crossed and, as animosity gave space to awkward cordiality and awkward cordiality gave space to unlikely fondness, Kagome became much more than a mind-blowing fuck, even if at first he was too stubborn to say so.

And so, InuYasha came up with socially acceptable excuses to spend more time with her without it coming off as a big deal, hence the self defense classes. They were perfect for them, once it was something he mastered and it involved lots of physical contact. Besides, the half demon slept better at night, knowing Kagome could throw a proper punch at anyone who got too handsy. It wasn’t part of the ordinary self defense program, but then again, she was no ordinary girl. Although her spiritual powers assured no youkai would lay a finger on her, the priestess was on her own in terms of human threats. What InuYasha did was making sure that was enough.

They’ve been inseparable ever since.

“We’ve met through Miroku long before that.” Kagome clarified, conveniently leaving the petty behavior and childish arguments they had that first day out of it. “InuYasha is his roommate. Also, Sango has been friends with him since he was ten.”

“Oh!” The table nodded in understanding, working the math for themselves. It wasn’t a difficult calculation to make.

Miroku was a close friend of her family. Quite literally, given they were neighbors for as long as the bastard could remember. His family was spiritually gifted like no other and took to themselves the responsibility to help little Kagome Higurashi to improve her abilities to the fullest. As a result, they grew up together. People often confused them for siblings and at heart, they were.

InuYasha met the nuisance of a friend several years later, when both of them entered college. Graduation certainly wasn’t his biggest goal in life. Far from it. It was more like a boring thing he had to do in order to conquer his deserved space in the real world. Regardless, the half demon was eager to enjoy his first shot at independency.

He found a great place right outside campus, but the extent of time he could afford it without resorting to his folk’s pockets was limited. Doing all of the domestic chores by himself wasn’t appealing, either. He needed a roommate.

A river of candidates flooded his inbox — it was truly a fantastic deal — Miroku stood out for being the only human to reply to his advertisement. Curious, InuYasha booked an interview. The man was clearly a womanizer, appreciated a good booze and was the farthest thing from what he claimed his family to be. Or from what InuYasha looked for in a friend.

And yet, to his total bewilderment, they hit it off right away.

How was he supposed to know Miroku would fall for Sango?

His best friend Sango.

The same Sango who helped him to train under the correct and outraging pretext that she had always been faster, that his defense was pathetic and that she would hate to see him get his ass kicked.

Gorgeous, confident, heart of gold Sango…

Yes, standing back from it now, InuYasha was a fool for not seeing it coming, since that was the obvious part.

The not so obvious one was that the two lovebirds would engage into a very loving, very serious relationship and that when Sango’s turn came to move out for college, Miroku would suggest an old friend to fill the vacant roommate position in her new apartment. A freshman as well, named Kagome.

And so InuYasha’s undoing began.

An unplanned dinner with mutual friends was hardly the most remarkable way to meet someone, but whenever InuYasha thought about the exquisite series of coincidences, about all of the incidents bound to happen in order to put them face to face in that distant autumn night… Well, he couldn’t shake the feeling it was meant to be, even if he had never had much faith in destiny, soulmates or any of that corny crap, there was no denying that suddenly every love song started making sense.

Flash forward and Miroku switched places with Kagome to better attend the living situation for the four of them. And that was that.

“What a… Delightful turn of events.” The venomous remark of the Higurashi patriarch brought the hanyou back to the present. This polite facade was what bothered him the most and InuYasha wanted the man, just for once, to say what he actually meant to say.

“Isn’t it?” Said Kagome, her enthusiasm palpable. If the girl had noticed the sarcasm hidden in that comment — and InuYasha was willing to bet so —, she made a point to disdain it, landing one hand on his knee, a discreet act of support.

Her grandfather clenched his jaw.

“InuYasha, you mentioned your family owns a company.” Mrs. Higurashi changed the subject unapologetically. “Any chances we have heard of it?”

He clung to the distraction like it was a life jacket.

“Probably, yeah! Taisho Inc.?”

“As in Toga Taisho?” Sota asked, his chin dropping. “Toga Taisho is your dad?”

“And Izayoi is his mom.” Kagome added, fixing a knowing gaze on her own mother, whose bewilderment now mirrored her son’s.

“The Izayoi?”

“The one and only.” The hanyou nodded, accustomed to the heated reactions his distinguished bloodline got him. For better or for worse.

“Oh, her brand is fantastic! I read somewhere every clothing collection is environment friendly. And they’re so affordable, too!”

“Mom, you’re jabbering.” Interjected Sota.

“Sorry.” She said. More to be polite than anything else. “I’m a huge fan of her work!”

“So I’ve been told.” InuYasha glanced at Kagome, who stared at him right back. It was all it took, and he would be able to draw a meticulous picture of what she was thinking: both their mothers, chatting and enjoying a cold cup of tea under the setting sun like long date friends. Knowing his mom — and now Mrs. Higurashi — that was quite a possible scene.

“I’m sure the two of you will meet at some point.” Proclaimed Kagome. “Anyway… You won’t believe who InuYasha and I bumped into when we arrived—”

“Miss Kaede.” Sota and Mrs. Higurashi simultaneously answered, and at Kagome’s questioning expression, the boy shrugged. “She saw when we got here and came to say hi.”

They ordered minutes after.

The meal was hot and tasty, one of the best InuYasha had ever had. It helped that having dinner with her family, as it turned out, had been an overall pleasant experience. Light. Breezy. Sota and Mrs Higurashi did a wonderful job at keeping him comfortable. InuYasha would go as far as saying they had liked him, and for that he was insanely grateful.

Kagome’s grandfather, however, was a whole other story. The guy despised him and didn’t lift a finger to cover it, but he had spent the rest of the night relatively quiet about it, so InuYasha labeled it as progress.

He had offered them a ride home and they had accepted, just like Kagome said they would. It was funny, the speed in which he grew accustomed to their dynamics. Kagome and her brother mindless bickering, their mother pretending exasperation while secretly pleased, the drive filled with childhood tales and life updates, a innocent joke every now and then. It was decidedly something InuYasha could be a part of.

Their property was a rustic piece of land inserted between one urban construction and the next, refusing to be touched by modern convenience. Kagome’s enchantment for the place was justified. Growing up in there couldn’t have been anything less than magical.

“It’s not much,” Mrs. Higurashi apologized, “but it’s home.” She opened the door and turned on the light.

The house seemed bigger on the inside. Not fancy big. Cozy big. On every wall, past and future merged themselves in harmony. The decoration, simple and of good taste, spoke anecdotes of the merry family living there.

As they entered the living room, a movement alarmed his senses, and in a quick motion InuYasha dove in just in time to grab the falling ornamental vase before it hit the ground. The responsible for the almost disaster meowed and jumped off the glass shelf, making a point of stepping on InuYasha with indifference to then greet the others.

“You must be Buyo.”

“Nice catch!” Congratulated Sota.

“Oh, my! Thank you, InuYasha. This vase is very dear to me.” He handed her the adornment, which was immediately restored the its rightful spot. “Kagome, why don’t you show your boyfriend around?”

Obediently, her daughter let go of the purring cat and played the role of guide, giving him a comprehensive tour through her former home. Truth to her word, she saved the best for last.

“Before we get in, I want you to remember I was young and didn’t know any better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He established, gesturing for her to rush and turn the knob.

Her bedroom was a gleeful explosion of pink and purple. From the roof to the floor, most of the surfaces were bathed in different shades of the combination. Sheets. Teddy bears. Carpet. Alarm clock. Curtains. Posters that could now pass for vintage. InuYasha was impressed. Despite all reason, the aesthetic actually worked.

He barked a laugh.

“What did you have against the other colors?”

“Shut up, I was five!”

InuYasha ignored her in favor of snooping around. Objects that dared not to stick with the pink or purple agenda were inevitably highlighted by it. He went after those first.

“So many CDs!” InuYasha contemplated, inspecting her collection attentively. Music was a passion they shared. Even though she was a pop kind of girl and he fell more into the rock line, they had been able to find common ground, eventually. Like Rihanna. Or The Beatles. “Are you kidding me?”

Kagome acknowledged his raised brows and the copy of a NSYNC album he was holding with a giggle.

“I stand by it.”

Books also filled the room. For starts, there was the Biology ones, piled up on her writing desk in a greater amount than what could be considered healthy — and more worn out than the math editions. On the main bookcase, he ran his claws through the good stuff. Jane Austen. J.K. Rowling. Stephen King. He wasn’t much of a reader, himself. His relationship with literature came down to the bedtime stories her mom lulled him to sleep with and A Song of Ice and Fire, which Kagome was currently reading because of him, albeit they had binged Game Of Thrones together.

Among her personal, reduced library, there was one book that gave the impression not to belong. It was larger, made of aged, tawny leather and no inscription was printed on the spine. Curious, InuYasha pulled it out, discovering the item to be a photo album. He pointed to its cover.

“Can I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She paid no attention to him as he sat on her bed and cautiously flipped through the pages, too lost in her own nostalgia.

The compilation began at a hospital room. A younger Mrs. Higurashi exhibited a teary smile to the chubby newborn nestled against her chest, the arms of an equally jubilant man involved them in a hug. Mr. Higurashi had elongated traits that narrowed his chin and pronounced nose in a gentle manner, like time had purposefully left his boyish attributes untouched. He resembled Sota. In everything except his wavy, dark hair. InuYasha grinned. Kagome had her father’s hair.

The photograph below showed three pair of legs, lazily lying on white sheets. A woman, a man and between them a baby, the size difference contributing to make the latter even cuter. Next to that, a picture of baby Kagome old enough to sit up, dressing onesie pajamas and chewing on a pacifier. Her grandfather appeared every now and then, feeding her porridge, kissing her tiny palm, exasperated at the paint mess she had done on the hall.

InuYasha watched her grow up the deeper he advanced. From crawling to standing behind Mrs. Higurashi, wrapping her little arms around the long skirt of her mother as she did the dishes. From that, to climbing onto a chair to help her father with the baking, covered in flour in front of the kitchen table while he proudly cleaned her up. Picnics. Beach trips. Birthdays. Every milestone was documented. After her first day at school — a big red ribbon on her hair —, new characters came to scene. Miroku, by her side on the backyard, one of his teeth missing and autumn leaves sticking to the two of them everywhere, twin wide smiles on their lips. Buyo, only a kitten napping on her lap as they sat on a tyre swing. She was wearing a beautiful dress and sneakers, her feet inches away from the ground.

There was a significant passage of time when InuYasha turned to another page. He knew it because, abruptly, Sota was there too, even though Mrs. Higurashi had been pregnant just a few images ago. The subtitle read Kagome, giving her baby brother a bath. In reality, she had used shampoo to pin all of his hair up. Her growth was perceptible as well.

There were no pictures of Mr. Higurashi anymore.

Instead, Sota, Miroku and some other friends conquered a little more of space, as Kagome got closer and closer to become the woman InuYasha came to know. The final picture was of her high school gang. Ayumi, Eri, Yuka.

And Hojo.

She had dated him back then and they were friends to this day. Naturally. Because Kagome was fundamentally a good person. And the fucker was unabashedly still into her.

The worst thing was, he couldn’t even bring himself to resent the guy. As a matter of fact, the hanyou pitied him. If InuYasha was in his shoes, he doubt he could ever move on from Kagome. Be that as it may, he much would have preferred they had held a grudge, blocked each other on social media and called it quits. Like normal people did.

Kagome was staring out the window by the time InuYasha shut the album and returned it to its shelf. He let his face fall into the curve of her shoulder — a flawless fit — in the process of embracing her waist. She leaned her head to him, her fingertips caressing his forearms.

Out of respect, they had left the door open, but it was just for show. His keen senses ensured they could get away with innocent displays of affection without having to worry about unexpected interruptions.

“What are we lookin’ at?”

“The Goshinboku.” The view of her bedroom was composed by a stunning garden, a mighty tree standing tall in the center of it. “When I was a little girl, there was a tyre swing attached to it. My dad built it for me. And grandpa almost had a heart attack because the tree is supposed to be sacred.”

The fresh memory came rushing back, of a lovely girl, her sleeping cat and a tyre swing.

“He sounds like a good man.” InuYasha let it out, mentally kicking himself at the same time. Don’t bring up her father, remembered his inner voice, a second too late. Damn it, he thought, I was doing so well. But they were alone. And Kagome was the one to raise the subject.

“The best.” She agreed, the longing painfully distinguishable in her timbre. “The colors are his fault, actually. He let me pick them and insisted I’d help him painting, saying it was my room and therefore I should be an active part of its making in order to truly look my own. I felt like such a grown up, with that brush in my hand! It wasn’t until years later I realized he had done most of the heavy work, of course. My enthusiasm about the colors decreased with time, I gotta admit. But I never wanted to change it, because whenever I see them, I’m taken back to that day.”

InuYasha was at a loss for words.

In one night, Kagome had shared more about her father than she had in their entire relationship, the topic always a delicate one.

To measure her pain, he tried to imagine what would be like. His life without Toga Taisho in every step of the way, with his goofy jokes and thunderous laughter, teaching him how to shave, talking about girls, buying him his first pair of boxing gloves. Cheering him on. Most fathers wouldn’t be as supportive of his career choice. Especially when it meant stepping down from the family empire.

Unthinkable.

InuYasha couldn’t even began to understand.

Unexpectedly, he was assaulted by the crushing need to hug his old man.

“He’d be proud of ya. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Kagome sighed. She was at the verge of crying, he could tell. “I wish he had met you.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“So...” Kagome bravely pushed her sorrow underneath, recovering the cheerful temper that was so typical of her. “Did you find anything good in that photo album?”

“Oh, yeah!” InuYasha nodded, taking her unsaid ask for distraction for what it was. “Miroku won’t hear the end of it.” She laughed and he relaxed at the sound. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. Your grandfather is getting distraught.”

“How did you do that?” Sota watched the TV screen in awe as their characters fought. InuYasha had just released a powerful blow, inflecting several damage on his opponent.

“Left-Right-B-B.”

Sota pressed the combination and as soon as he did, his character recreated the attack, hitting InuYasha back full force. The kid learned fast.

“Sweet! You gotta teach me more of this stuff! Can I come over to your place sometime?”

“Sure!” He answered, in autopilot. Kagome quietly pinched him in the tigh and the half demon realized his mistake. Don’t mention we live together. What an idiot he was. InuYasha wouldn’t have to mention anything if her brother saw it with his own eyes. “I-I mean, if that’s cool with your mom. It ain’t a quick drive.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah, just… Text me first.”

“You got it!”

InuYasha shrugged apologetically to his frustrated girlfriend. It was the best he could do.

“Kagome?” Mrs. Higurashi swiftly called from the kitchen. “Can you help me with the desserts, please?”

“Coming!”

Involuntarily, his ears twitched to follow her trail of noises. Steps. Crockery getting handled. Whispers.

“Alright: your honest opinion. Go!”

“Oh, I think your opinion is the one that counts.”

“It’s the one that counts the most. It’s not the only one that counts.”

“In that case, I must say you make a lovely couple. InuYasha caused an excellent impression on me. The way he looks at you… Your father used to look at me just like that.”

“Mama!”

There was a pause.

Out of habit, InuYasha kept hitting the right buttons, but his interest was far away from the game.

“Now, what else are you wanting to tell me?”

“How did you know?”

“A mother always does. What is it?”

“InuYasha and I… We’re living together.”

“I had my suspicions.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Are you happy?”

“The happiest.”

“Well, then. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Thank you! I love you so much!”

“I love you too, honey. But it might be wise not to let your grandfather know for now.”

“I figured as much.”

“One more thing.”

“Shoot!”

“Are the two of you using protection?”

“Mom!”

“What? It’s a fair concern.”

InuYasha had darkened multiple shades of embarrassment, all of them red. Sota took advantage of his temporary stupefied state to deliver the final blast, settling their score.

“Yes!”

“I totally let you win.”

“You wish!”

The two women walked into the room, dessert glasses on their hands. Sota accepted the one his mother offered him while Kagome sat on her previous spot by InuYasha.

“This candy is a family recipe.” Mrs. Higurashi explained. “It’s also the reason why we didn’t order a dessert at the restaurant.”

InuYasha hadn’t complained. In terms of food, sugary snacks were hardly his favorites. He opened his mouth, planning to decline the treat in way that wasn’t too rude, but his girlfriend beat him to the punch and sticked a spoon full of the stuff inside his mouth. The flavor outburst on his tongue was unprecedented, caramel being the base of it. The kickoff was undeniably sweet, pursued by a salty ending that assured a refined balance.

“Holy f… ork.” Don’t swear. At least this time he managed to caught himself before the failure.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Said Mrs. Higurashi, as InuYasha grabbed his portion from Kagome’s grasp and ate the whole thing in eager spoonfuls.

“How come you never made me one of those?” He threw Kagome an accusatory glance.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think our relationship is that solid yet.”

InuYasha was formulating a sly remark when he heard her grandfather struggling to carry a heavy wood box.

“Sir, wanna some help?” He volunteered, already jumping to the rescue.

“I’m old, not invalid.”

“It wasn’t my intention to suges—”

“Grandpa, please don’t be dramatic.” Intervened Kagome. “We don’t want a broken hip, do we?”

Grudgingly, the elder turned his burden over to InuYasha, who followed him out into the storehouse. He was serenaded by the crickets and the constant instructions of the wrinkle bag, urging him to be careful.

“Where do you want this, sir?”

“There.” He pointed to the left corner of the room and InuYasha accomplished the task without breaking a sweat. Or a priceless relic. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” The temptation to spin on his heels and exit the building was tremendous. For Kagome, though, he had to make an effort. “I guess is safe to say you don’t like me or my tattoos very much. That’s alright, I get it. You just met me. But I promise you, sir, I would never, ever, do anything to hurt your granddaughter. I’m a hundred percent committed to Kagome. In fact…” InuYasha fished the ring off his back pocket and presented it to him. “I intend to propose to her in a near future. You don’t have to answer right now, just know it would mean a lot to her… To us, if you could give us your blessing.”

The man glared at the ring as if it was a viper ready to strike.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship of yours was that serious.”

“Well… It kinda is. I… I love her.”

InuYasha felt naked, so very naked, under the somber gaze of that man. However true his words were, he wasn’t the type to pour his heart out, let alone to someone he had met for less than the duration of a night. Vulnerability was something to be avoided. Let your guard open, you get knocked down. A lifetime of boxing will teach you that. Still, Kagome was worth way more than his stupid pride.

“I see. In that case, you must end it at once.”

“What?”

“I held my peace because I was convinced, the moment my granddaughter introduced you as her boyfriend, that this was bound to break. Do not take it personally. I can’t possibly be the first one to point it out and chances are I won’t be the last. You are far from the man I imagined her future husband to be. Yet here you are, speaking of marriage. It is up to me, then, to open your eyes and remind you the implications of it.”

“The implications of it.” The hanyou half repeated, half questioned. The superior tone in which the man expressed himself was enerving and the fact InuYasha had no idea of where he was trying to get only worsened the tension.

“Your mother is human, is she not?” All of the pieces fell into place right then. He would rather they hadn’t.

“Yes, she is.”

“Then you better than anyone must know of the hardships she had to endure as a result of her lifestyle.”

InuYasha was numb. Completely anesthetized. It was to be expected his stupor would soft the pain of the bad memories. It didn’t.

Romeo and Juliet got nothing on his parents. His mom had told him the story time and time again. They had met each other on a tropical storm. Her car died and of course he was there to help. She kept his coat. He kept her phone number on a piece of paper that accidentally was ruined by the rain. When their paths crossed again, he was a divorced father and she was engaged. They managed to get it right anyway. Timing was a comical thing. It never worked with rationality.

Both families were against it. Strongly against it. His mother was no longer welcomed in the house. They had burned to the ground any evidence she once belonged to that place. The only thing she took with her was the ring of her deceased mother that InuYasha now held inside his clenched fist. She wasn’t allowed in the Taisho mansion either, but it just meant his father wouldn’t set foot feet there as well.

There were grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins InuYasha didn’t have the chance to met. Because they didn’t want to. Other than from Sesshoumaru and his mom, that was it for him in the family section.

He used to resent it. When he caught a homesick Izayoi crying. When his father yelled at the management of some restaurant about their anti-human politics. When she was denied entrance because InuYasha was in her arms. When the family tree of the other kids in school was so much more complex than his. Fortunately, he came to terms with it. Family had little to do with blood.

“It wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t your father’s, either.” InuYasha heard him go on. “Regardless, this is the way things are. The way things have always been. And pretending otherwise is to believe in fairytales. You can not blame me for wishing a better fate upon Kagome.”

“Kagome is happy. I know she is!”

“For now. What would be of this so called happiness in the long run? Keep in mind Kagome is a priestess. What if this union causes her to lose her spiritual powers? Even if she doesn’t, a child born out of it would carry demon genes. It can not be avoided. It can affect their reiki greatly.”

“W-we haven’t talk—”

Kids. The subject was never discussed between them. It was not a secret Kagome wanted to have children. She should have children. Motherhood suited her. InuYasha, on the other hand, didn’t give the topic a lot of thought. He just accepted that, taking in consideration the lengths he was willing to go to make her happy, babies weren’t even that bad.

Now, his treacherous brain was plaguing him with the forbidden images. Another aged, tawny leather photo album, theirs to fulfill with pictures of a raven haired, golden eyed toddler. Kagome, pregnant with his child. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all.

“Listen close, boy. I take no pride in that, but when cancer took my son away… It tore this home apart. Kagome? She was the one to put it back together. It was an unfair burden, for someone so young to take. And it meant countless sacrifices from her part. My granddaughter had to grow up too fast too soon. She deserves the luck of an ease love. You seem like a decent man, tattoos aside. That is why, if you love Kagome the way you claim to do, you will let her go.”

“InuYasha!”

“Huh?”

“I’m talking to you!”

“I’m driving!” Even to himself, the excuse sounded weak. For fear Kagome would pick up on his bullshit, he opted for diplomacy. “Can you repeat what it was?”

“My family! Did you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re great.”

She could sniff it out his lies from miles away, one of her many infuriating talents. It was a good thing InuYasha wasn’t lying, then. Her mom and brother had won him over without even trying. Her grandfather was difficult, to say the least. But ultimately, he only had Kagome’s best interests at heart. How could InuYasha not hold someone like that in deep appreciation? They shared the same priorities, after all.

“I’m glad.” Kagome sticked a palm out of the window, to cut the chill night air. Not even that diverted his concentration from the road ahead, hands sweating at the tigh grip on the steering wheel. They let the silence set, until her profound exhale disturbed it. “Do you miss your motorbike?”

Before Kagome, a classic black Harley used to be the love of his life. He had saved every penny he ever gotten in order to get it. It was the first significant thing he had ever bought with his own money. Sadly, the maintenance was pretty expensive and by the time they started going on double dates with Miroku and Sango or Koga and Ayame, an average car proved to be the obvious, more practical choice. It had its advantages. Convenience. Economy. Illegal activities on the backseat. His mother was radiant, too. She had somehow convinced herself owning a motorcycle was a creative way of signing his own death certificate.

He didn’t regret it.

But he couldn’t chase the wind in a car. Kagome wouldn’t hold him for dear life in a car.

“Sometimes.”

“Me too. Maybe we can afford to buy it back, someday.” His stomach sank. There would be no ‘someday’. Not for them. “InuYasha?”

“Maybe.”

He turned the radio on and neither of them talked the whole way home.

Water was pouring down, warm and nice against his skin. InuYasha stood under the shower far more than the necessary. His hope was that if he stalled long enough, Kagome would be sleeping by the time he left the bathroom. It was an act of pure cowardice, but it was for the best. If she was awake, he would be tempted to take her one last time, and what kind of monster he’d be by the morning, when they would have to say goodbye?

Kagome was sitting on their bed, waiting for him with his AC/DC shirt on. InuYasha should have anticipated she wouldn’t be entirely oblivious to his internal turmoil. He hadn’t done the neatest job hiding it and she knew him like no one else.

“Alright, what is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Just who do you think you’re kidding?”

“Can we please do this tomorrow?”

“No! You’ve been acting strange since we left. I tried to give you space, but I won’t be able to sleep unless you put my mind at ease.”

From all the scenarios he had ran on his head of how this conversation would go, this was without a doubt the worst one. He didn’t want to end their relationship in the middle of the night, dressed only on his sweatpants, risking her to storm off that late. He owed Kagome more than that. Massaging his temple, InuYasha realized his hands were tied. She wouldn’t let it die. He sat by her side and ripped off the band-aid.

“We should break up.”

Her reaction to the news was a mystery InuYasha wasn’t dying to find out. She could cry, she used to do it for less and his ego would appreciate it. She could scream at him, it was totally understandable. She could slap his face, he probably deserved it. She could leave. He wouldn’t blame her.

“No.” Plain and simple.

Whatever he expected her to do, that wasn’t it.

“No?”

“That’s right.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“We’re breaking up!”

“No, we’re not. Are you in love with someone else?”

“Well... No.”

“Have you stopped loving me?”

“That’s… That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m bad for you, Kagome! Can’t you see that?” His ferocity made her quiver and cursing himself, InuYasha counted two heavy breaths to try and tone it down. “Can’t you see everything you’ll miss out just to be by my side? I can’t do that to you. I won’t. What we have… It can be easy here, but in the real world...”

“Did my grandfather put you up to this?”

His startle gave him away. It was pointless to deny.

“He only said what we already knew and were too stubborn to accept.”

“How dare he?!”

“He’s right, y’know? This is the best thing for you.”

“How dare you?” She poked his naked chest, her fury unleashed like InuYasha hadn’t seen in a while. “Who are you to make this decision for me?”

“I’m someone who saw his mother be casted out and humiliated on a daily basis over it!”

“Have you ever asked her if she would do it again? Because I’m pretty sure I know the answer. And mine is the same.”

“What about children? You wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not they would inherit your spiritual powers if you had ‘em with a human.”

“I don’t care about the stupid bloodline tradition! It’s not like demons and humans are at war anymore. Any child we might have will be loved, powers or not powers. I refuse to let outdated morals dictate how I live my life, I refuse to let them get in the way of my happiness. And I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through you would give up of me that easy.”

“Easy?” InuYasha hissed. Kagome didn’t back down one bit at his rompant. “You think this is easy for me? This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do and if it’s possible you’re making it even harder. For once in my life I’m being selfless. For once in my life I’m putting someone else first. Because I fucking love you!”

Finally, finally, her lips crushed into his. It was a long time coming, as if every single event since he had seen her in that blue dress earlier were building up to that moment. He welcomed her touch like was second nature, greedly pulling her close to devour her lips. The taste of mint toothpaste flooded his senses and suddenly the whole universe shrunk to the shape her mouth. Her slow hands went from his cheeks to his wet hair, tangling on the messy strands and inducing the nape ones to rise up.

Only then InuYasha understood.

He was fooling himself.

Selfish. His love for her always was and always would be selfish. He could try to stay away, he could try to shut her out. In the end of the day, all she had to do was snap her fingers and he would be running to her. There was no escaping it. She wanted him, he was hers.

Little by little, InuYasha broke the kiss, their foreheads still connected as their hearts restored their normal pace.

“I don’t want to make things difficult between you and your family.”

“I’m sorry about tonight, InuYasha. I was so excited with the idea of you and my family getting along, I forgot to be more careful and pushed it too far with grandpa. Let’s give it time, okay? He’ll come around. If he doesn’t, you are not the one making things difficult. He is. People tend to be afraid of what they don’t know. It doesn’t matter. It’s not theirs to know, it’s ours. And we shouldn’t allow their opinions to interfere. No prejudiced beliefs can take me from your side. As long as you want me, there are no deal breakers. So what do you truly want?”

“What I truly want…” He got up and went to their wardrobe, reaching the depths of the drawer where he kept his jeans for the hidden ring. He found it and fell into one knee in front of her. “It’s to spend the rest of my life with you.” She gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes overflowed. “This might be crazy soon, but it has also been a crazy night. Kagome, will you—”

“Yes!”

She knocked him down in a hug that turned into another kiss, tender than the prior. They had time to pleasantries now. They had all the time in the world. InuYasha wanted to laugh at the expense of his unplanned rebellion. There he was, making the exact opposite thing her grandfather had ordered him to do. And he was still a bit unaware as to how.

“Will ya let me put this thing on your finger or what?” He questioned when she pulled away.

“In one condition.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t you ever break up with me again.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

A/N: this is for the brilliant @dyaz-stories who requested “The stakes are high. Tthe water's rough. But this love is ours” + “And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored. Cause my heart is yours” for the lyric game.

I hope you don’t mind the “my father” to “my grandfather”change, but I thought it was more fitting, given the circumstances. Sorry I made you the bad guy, grandpa, but someone had to be! Also, I know the lyrics say that the snide remarks about the tattoos would be ignored, but no matter how hard I tried to stand by it, Kagome refused to be silenced.

About the tattoos: I’ve read somewhere cherry blossoms mean female beauty, love, happiness, renovation and hope. They symbolize the end of winter and beginning of spring… which is pretty much everything Kagome represents to InuYasha.

That being said, happy Inukag Week! Yes, I do celebrate it as if it was a hollyday. No, I do not think I’m obsessed. I like this couple a normal amount. And this fanfic just happens to fit the prompt “acceptance” from day one, so here you go @inukag-week

#Inukag Week #Ours #Inukag Fanfiction #InuYasha #My Writing #Inukag Fluff #InuKag Angst #Sid Writes #Inukag Oneshot #Kagome Higurashi #Modern AU

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a-lonely-tatertot · 4 years

Text

Artist!Keefe hc

When Keefe gets nervous he draws

Sometimes on himself, little flowers and fires on his fingers

but mostly he likes drawing on other people

Fitz and Biana could almost always tell how bad the day was buy how crowded his hands are

during Black Swan meetings, he’ll wordlessly grab Fitz or Biana’s (really whoever he feels comfortable with unless they’re really into it and he thinks he’ll be distracting) and grab a pen or pencil from his pocket and start doodling

When they thought that Sophie and Dex had died, Keefe was at Everglen almost everyday

He would lightleap over, walk up to Fitz’s room, and grab his arm

Keefe and Biana were the only people allowed in Fitz’s room at that time, sometimes they’d all sit on his bed, Biana leaning on Fitz, Keefe holding onto Fitz

And when Keefe’s pen would sometimes poke a little too hard Fitz would say anything he would flinch either, because if Keefe had to deal with Fitz throwing things across the room and yelling and anything and everything, he could take a little pain

Then while Alden was broken, Keefe would find himself in Biana’s room, the sparkle pen that Biana had given him for midterms one year, drawing on her while she cried because after so many years of it, the feeling of the pen on her arm slowly moving was comforting

While they hid in Mount Everest Keefe found himself resisting the urge to reach into his pockets and grab his pen, but he left it at home because he it wasn’t the time

And after when they found out that it was his mom he found himself running out of reachable room on his arms and ankles

Then they were at the Black Swan and his co-revenge with Dex he finds himself trying to calm his panic attack that shouldn’t be happening why now?? Dex asks what helps him and finds himself rubbing his back while he draws beautiful designs on his arm

Keefe knew he was coming apart but he didn’t find himself in front of Fitz’s door, he was in his own room surrounded by papers on the walls because he didn’t need to calm down he needed to figure it out

and when he decides to join the Neverseen and he feels even more alone because they took away his pen so he was left with tracing ideas on his arms

When Sophie tells him it’s time for him to come home he grabs his pen along with the caches because screw it Biana gave it to him and like hell he’s gonna leave it and he finds himself trying to keep Sophie alive with his nonexistent healing skills and he’s done all he can waiting for some to

and she does she doesn’t say anything about the pen marks on her arm because they have bigger things to worry about and he’s ignoring them just as much as her

when Sophie tells him that he has to stay home Ro makes fun of him for drawing like a crazy person but when he wakes up from a nightmare and she has to calm him down she lets him draw on her only moderately complaining about how sparkly it is couldn’t he have any other pen? but only when she knows he’s okay because she cares guys

and when he visits Quentin for something that he was supposed to pick up, he finds no one home, and the package on the table when he hears muffled sobs coming from another room

after a bit of debating he tries to trace them through the house he finds Amy curled up on a couch sobbing into her knees he approaches her slowly and asks if she’s okay to which he gets a soft shake of her head and so he sits next to her and asks if she wants a hug to which she launches herself at him and he holds her for a bit because keefe would be an amazing older brother and loves kids and he asks if he can draw on her arm, because that helps him and he’s been told it’s soothing

so he lets her talk as he draws and she talks about her family and her life in the Forbidden Cities and she asks if she can draw on him and at first he’s surprised but he hands her his sparkly pen and lets her draw on his hand and he tells her about things in the Lost Cities and she asks about Sophie and their friends so he tells her

Eventually he remembers the package and she asks if he could come back again and they become friends and when she goes back, they find a way to keep in touch because amy’s like his little sister and amy wants to keep an eye on this reckless idiot that’s her older brother

In the library when they’re searching their way through books and Tam passes out what it’s boring and he’s never actually had a full nights sleep and what’s a better time than now? and he wakes up to his left arm having stars and trees drawn on along with this little icon that look suspiciously like his bangs and on the inside of his wrist is surprisingly nice handwriting “Sorry Bangs Boy, you passed out”

Tam just sighs and washes it off after showing it to Linh who laughs and thinks it’s cute that that’s what Keefe does when he’s stressed because they’d be lying if they said they didn’t notice how tense Keefe had been

Three days later while combing the streets of Atlantis, he finds himself ranting to Linh who just nods and listens and when they sit down at a shop he finally feels comfortable to ask if he can draw on her hand and Linh gets very excited because he’s trusting her and he acts like it’s no big deal when she compliments the henna like drawing on her hand and asks if Biana gave him the sparkle pen

During the trials he goes to draw on Fitz’s arm, but as he reaches out Fitz yanks his arm away and blankly stares straight ahead and there’s a small part of Keefe that cracks a little because Fitz hadn’t done that before and Biana glances over at him and gives him a sympalizing look and he remembered that he was supposed to be comforting them

When Fitz and Sophie got stuck in the Healing Center Keefe felt his gut wrench everytime he looked at Fitz because the last time he had been awake he had made it clear that Keefe wasn’t allowed to touch him

the days he’s not with Sophie he’s with Biana, because she needs someone, but in turn he’s hanging around Dex again and often he’ll find himself in Dex’s room testing out some new gadget with Biana, ro makes fun of him often for it or they’re training with Linh and the best part is it’s often that they ask him to draw on them

When Biana feels anxious about her scars he makes them in to falling stars or flowers, at one point he makes them into a snake and she decides that that’s her favorite a very pink and sparkly menacing snake

When they’re all tired from school Dex finds himself with Keefe holding his arm connecting the freckles as the rest find new things that they look like

And Linh always wants a new fancy henna-like design on her hand

When Tam gets taken and Fitzphie becomes a thing, Keefe is with Linh drawing as she cries chanting that they have to get him back, “We will, we will”

He’s there for the others, like he always has been, to the point that their parents aren’t surprised anymore when he randomly light leaps and finds his own way up to their rooms

he talks to Amy too, making sure things are okay, and he smiles and jokes around with her when she asks about them, he doesn’t want her to worry

Dex and Biana tell him about Team Valiant the first chance they have

And when Sophie needs him he’s there, but with a smile and a joke and a plea for human cookies because she didn’t need art, she needed him

And when he comes up with the plan to go to the dwarven city Linh and Marella immediately agree because there was no way in hell they were keeping Linh away from her brother

When he goes into acoma everyone loses it

Sophie and Fitz switch off on days

Linh hasn’t washed off the last mark he gave her, she won’t not until he wakes up, Marella and Marcua go with her sometimes Tam will too “Never thought I’d miss you making fun of my hair buddy”

Biana gets more sparkle pens for him and draws her snake twisting around his arm “She’ll protect you”

Keefe only has a few freckles, and they’re mostly on his hands, so Dex makes sure to connect them “Come on Keefe, I can’t prank people without you”

After the first week when it really set in, Fitz cried next to him for hours while Biana held him, “You can draw on me everyday for the rest of our lives if you just wake up” he says pounding the nightstand

As Sophie watches the drawing appear she starts adding some of her own, some are candy from the Forbidden Cities, and she claimed the inside of his wrist with Alicorn wings like he drew the first time

When Amy asked why Keefe wasn’t returning her calls Sophie realized that she didn’t know, and she didn’t even realized that they talked and when she tells her Amy goes absolutely feral Sophie comes to grab her and she barges right into the Councillor’s meeting room not giving a shit that she could be banned forever, and pounds her fist into the table and tells them that she will be visiting once a week after so long it got moved to once a month and she dares any of them to tell her otherwise

Bronte and Oralie are the first to agree and Emery is the last, and he tries to give this girl his hardest stare, and even Sophie cringes a little but Amy stares back jaw set, face hard, hands in fists on the table and finally he agrees

So she visits and sometimes if others are there they’ll fill her in on somethings, and occasionally they’ll tell her stories about Keefe about their history and she’ll sit their holding Keefe’s hand in a death grip and will listen

Elwin quickly learns what marks he can and cant wash off most of them stay some they like to redraw, he learns who will leave easier and who wont and he learns to be a bit harder but a bit softer with these stubborn kids the only one he won’t kick out forcefully is Amy the one and only time he tried she let a massive string of human cusswords and yelled that she wasn’t going to leave her brother’s side and Elwin knew not to mess with the young human who made the Council bend to her will Amy makes a bit of a reputation for herself they learn to fear her a bit

Ro is the only one that never left Keefe’s side because he was her charge but more importantly her friend

Most days she sit in the corner silently, her gaze flickering throughout the room, checking all the exist and checking on Keefe and even after her father relieved her of her duty over Keefe and said she could come home she refused and said she wasn’t leaving til he wakes, Amy was the first one to approach her she plopped herself down next to her and stared at her dagger until she would let her hold it, when she comes over Amy demands that she teaches her how to fight and she does sometimes Elwin asks if they’ll go outside before they ruin his office please and thank you I can look after him for a few minutes and so they do and Ro teaches her everything and sometimes Sandor and the others while help train her a bit, no one knows against what, she says it’s to keep herself grounded and maybe a bit because she wants to storm up to the Neverseen and tear them apart bit by bit

But all it took to get this many people to care about him was one simple quirk of drawing on people’s arms i might make one of these about ro and amy’s friendship because it’s adorable and I think it would be great

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Next Caller Pt 41

Lost to his usual task of filling in for an employee in his tea shop Thorin’s intrigue is sparked by a mysterious green haired customer who instantly draws his attention and urge to help better their life. All the while the Durins are lost to the struggle of finding out who is behind the scandalous radio show with characters supposedly from their famous clan.

Pt 1

.....

Giggles came when at home seeing the doodled birds across the board around a slightly sloppy flower Dot had puffed up happily in your complimenting her work and flew off the head to bed with the others. After adding the dried paint brush back to the garage with the others you joined Thorin for a late cup of tea where he asked, “I was thinking about tomorrow.”

“Big plans for family?”

“No, you mentioned you needed to shop for rugs for your studio, I know a place if you wanted to go tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Tired?” He asked wetting his lips and you shook your head.

“Thought I might get a bit more done on those sketches. You?”

“Might just watch a film, or two, if you’d like to join after?”

“You can watch in my room if you like, I can see it through the doorway.”

Smirking at the mini compromise he nodded, “Ok, sounds good.” Carrying your mugs through to your room he settled on the bed a bit awkwardly while you readied in the study getting back to the right point mentally in the commercial you were sketching. Leaning back against the pillows he found a film he put on hearing you beginning to sketch.

Painstakingly you got through with Beatrice’s part at least for the full commercial and wrapped the final bundle texting Glori on your progress so far. Still you had to add the background and all the coloring and agreed upon text, but with a stagnant background layout of the full room it would be easier to just have the background shifted slightly with the character images flipping in front of it. The final product wouldn’t be pristine as sketching each frame background for the full commercial but as a preview for what was to come it would do wonders to bait people into seeing just what your book was about.

Smoothing your hands over your face you stood up and stretched making your way to the bed shutting off the lights in the study. Upon seeing you Thorin smiled and watched your stroll to the bed you climbed onto and across to lay down with your head on top of his belly. “Get a lot done?”

You nodded and sighed back using your toes to ease your socks off onto the floor by the bed feeling his fingers timidly grazing your hair helping to pull it off your neck and out of your face to lay behind you. “Got Beatrice done, just have to do a background layout next to finish it off.”

“How difficult is that, you’ll have to redo all those thousands of panels again?”

“No, you, it’s like me sketching this room, and it sits still while the character panels flap in front of it, so you can just scoot it over if they move through the room, or this case Palace. It won’t be flawless but for a commercial it should be suitable. I’ll do that, get it colored and let them look it over, hopefully they won’t want me to redo it fully panel by panel.”

“I doubt they would make you redo it. From what I’ve heard over 500,000 copies of your stickers have sold so far.”

“Yup, sent off Wolsey’s sketch last week to get ready to add them to the production mix.”

Smirking to himself he asked, “When will you get to the Bunny ones.”

“Might not, if anything the same one with the chair and the phone.”

“Why not just draw you?” At that you giggled and his fingers deliberately and tenderly combed through your hair close to your scalp, “They would sell like crazy.”

“And I can hear it now, the world in uproar because I wrote one of the biggest self insert books to be published with Bunny staked for Durin the Deathless no less.” At that he chuckled. “I think the mystery is best. Besides, your clan hasn’t shared his true love’s face or name, why should I try to pretend I know?”

“If you change your mind you have our support.” Steadily making his way to a timid scalp massage to help you relax after the no doubt straining task only to notice your leg shifting making him ask, “Is your leg still bothering you?”

“Just tense still after rain.”

“Turn this way,” As you rolled over his hand found your leg and spun you to lay beside him with your hurt leg he draped across his chest starting from your ankle up, smoothing his hands over your leg up to your knee he said, “Just relax, I got it. No doubt having the knot so long it would take a bit to fully loosen. Weekly rub downs then.”

“You-,”

“If your leg hurts I’ll make it twice a week.”

“You and your family with your threats.” Sighing again you laid your head on your arms to watch the film again through his smirking massage to your leg loosening up the longer he rubbed it.

A glimpse of your toes had him smirking and saying, “You chose glitter and mint, it’s nice.”

“Thank you. Apparently we are the gossip on the news while I was there.” He sighed and you said, “according to them I am a nice fit for your clan, though they aren’t certain on if I am actually attached to it yet.”

Thorin chuckled and leaned in to kiss the bottom of your foot making you glance back at him, “Longer no announcements are made the better. Was a windfall for Dis and Vili. Besides I believe you do love a good mystery. Why not be one?”

“I do love mysteries.”

Unsure of what to say you kept looking at him making him smirk and nod at the screen, “Enjoy the film, I’ve got this. Don’t you worry, Frerin is loving winding them up and leading them around.”

“Oh yes, that made the second channel, how my bond with Thran and his clan would cause upset with yours.” Making him chuckle and smile taking in the cuddling and loving moment in aiding with easing your pain. Eventually putting you to sleep signaling his move to turn you and tuck you into bed for the night before heading off to his own.

It seemed to go on forever, the rug depot Thorin had brought you to, and every corner seemed to lure up gasps and stares once you were spotted only bringing Thorin to drape around you more and keep you distracted by pointing out more designs you might like. It seemed to the very end you walked finally reaching the shag section where you looked over the first two only to flinch and tightly lay your hand on Thorin’s right pec instantly splitting a grin across his face in your reaction to a worker sneaking up on you. His hand folded over yours hiding the reaction from the cheerful Dwarf who was grinning up at the selection.

“Fine choices here, all fine.” Easing your hand free Thorin lifted it to kiss your knuckles then lowered it to weave into his as the worker continued grinning at you both, “Any specifics you were looking for?”

“Um,” you replied and wet your lips holding the slip of paper with the measurements on it, “Well I know I need runners, I think that’s the term, and a smaller rectangular one for a studio.”

“Ah,” his face lit up, “Well we have a great selection to choose from. Any specific color?”

“White, I don’t think I want it like fur, but I do want it fluffy…”

“As for runners, we have those on the next rack over and if it’s a small one you need that would be closer to the corner.” First he led you to the runners and then hurried off at the sound of a bundle of rugs falling over leaving Thorin to drape around your back again.

Tenderly he kissed your cheek and hummed, “Should give us a few minutes to possibly choose while he’s gone.”

Touching a few choices you settled for a patterned one with wavy squares set into the rug for the spot outside your booth and two runners to match. Armed with a cart the helpful Dwarf returned to gather up your choices and help you to find another smaller one for inside the soundproof booth. A deep indigo one with constellations across it that glowed in the dark to add to the mix.

Fully rung up with the rugs added to the trunk of the car Thorin hummed, “I think a lunch is in order.” Guiding a strip of your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek and claim your hand to walk you to your seat. “I know just the place.”

He helped you in and out again keeping hold of your hand as long as possible. Once in the corner seat with his chair next to yours he cradled your hand in his tracing lines into your skin trailing his fingers from fingertip to wrist lovingly claiming it all he could until your drinks then meal arrived. Reluctantly releasing your hand only to struggle at not shivering when it eased back across his thigh back to your own in thanking the waiter for bringing your meal.

The rugs were set aside to be out of the way from the building crew and to your theater you went cuddling up again for another movie marathon. Somewhere between his fingers trailing over your arms and hands and the sound of his steady heartbeat you drifted off against his side. Hours he napped holding you close only to flinch awake to the sound of a show on elephant seals in a show leading to puffins, Kuu’s reason for turning it on, having been trying to learn more about sea birds. Grumbling in a nestle closer to his side at the shift of his arms you lured out his grin making him scoop you up and carry you to bed lowly saying, “All yours Kuu,” to the bird contently fluffing up in excitement for the next section of the show.

To bed again he carried you, making certain you were settled comfortably only to pause at your hands pulling him by the shirt to stay with you. “Alright,” he murmured and eased down to lay beside you, “Just for the adorable pout I’ll stay,” stealing a lingering kiss on your forehead once under the covers relaxing around you fully to drift off to sleep. Clinging as closely as you would allow treasuring another night with you in his arms, hoping to one day have this be a more common occurrence.

“We’ve got it covered,” you could hear Frerin’s voice through the house and sitting up in bed you knew why, he was on speaker with Thorin as he cooked breakfast confirming he’d be over later. Breakfast seemed to be filled with questions from the new ravens on what else you were adding to your home that they had been warned of the company coming.

Cider in hand you left the car keys on the hook and in Thorin’s turn to protest he froze at your toe top kiss to his cheek. Trotting away you said, “Sunny today, scooter weather,” adding your mug to your bag you climbed on your scooter after adding your helmet waving at the grinning Dwarf off to help a bit at the shop before heading back to meet Frerin and the builders.

It was another lazy lounging episode though this time with Durin in the recovery bed and Bunny practically locked inside the room by their friends to try and get them closer to a courtship agreement. From the shop back home again Thorin listened along and was joined by Frerin grinning in wait on the living room couch until the doorbell cut them off.

From the delivery of the shelves and booth to the builders arriving the ravens got curious more than once to see what was going on.

“Do not touch the hinges!” Thorin reminded the crew who nodded and with a stern point at the youngest of them who huffed turning over his pocket screwdriver kit favored for his mischief that Frerin held onto while they were working.

Fully impressed by the workspace the builders nodded and once armed with your sketches got to settling everything in place. The sturdy walls helped to anchor the shelves that seemed to amuse the team greatly and with each block completed Frerin and Thorin marked which colors assigned for each. Notes all greatly helping the BomBairns who showed up eagerly ready to get started while the soundproof booth was being set up. With ladders and fine brushes the shelves were brightly painted, two however got to installing the lights that Thorin had ordered and had delivered to Frerin’s place to keep it a surprise, the ones you wanted that were being scoured for cheaper copies all proving to be less effective and more of a fire hazard. Smirking to himself he watched it all come together to the sound of your show blaring over the tools and fans helping to waft out the paint smell.

Some food was fixed up for the crews before they switched rooms. Tightly Frerin gripped Thorin in a hug making the elder smirk and ask, “What are you doing?”

Two of his nieces joined in on the hugging before their brother said, “The board said you needed hugs.”

Shifting on his feet Thorin rolled his eyes seeing the raven scrawled note ‘Thorin Needs Hugs!!’ next to the runes for ‘Thorin *hearts* Jackrabbit’ with awkward hearts all around the board and he rumbled back, “So it does. Go eat, can’t have your Adad saying I didn’t feed you enough.” They chuckled heading back to the table and with the fan still going Thorin came back to inspect the booth while Frerin looked at the rugs you had chosen.

The builders had then moved onto his shelving in his room they knew just what he wanted while the teens were off again with check in hand after confirming that it was exactly as you had sketched it.

Another knock had the brothers heading for the door only to flash a grin at the tall Elf asking, “Pear, and Durin, residence?”

“Yes, it is.”

Thorin signed for the delivery hearing the man saying, “Two desks and a set of chairs.”

The square U shaped desk came first carefully hoisted on a cart over the doorframe and through the house past the fan Frerin set aside to be settled in the audio recording section. The wavy one came next and was a tad easier to move to its spot on the wall by the side of the sound booth. Rolling versions of your studio chair were settled by both desks.

The pause to admire them didn’t last long as there was another knock on the open door and when Frerin had gone to check a team of tech guys came through to set up the audio recording equipment as well as the scanners and light up sketching stand to help with your drawings. By the time you had come home for lunch you had a full audio and animation studio system installed by the tech crews who were thrilled to have gotten to meet you and give you the full tour.

Pictures and autographs later and you were standing in the studio while Frerin drug the runners into place on either side of the desks after having settled the rectangular one across from the sound booth and the glowing one inside. Peering up you said, “You even changed the lights.”

Frerin chuckled saying, “All Thorin, said you wanted to bargain hunt, wouldn’t have your work suffering for pinching pennies. More than earned them Sis.” Scooping his arm around you guiding you to the meal that Kuu ended up luring you from to spend the rest of your break going to meet the three excited hatchlings in your back yard. Each hopping up into your palms and lap granting you a full introduction and inspection of every tiny adorable unique speckle to their fluffy selves. Needing of another nap as their energy had been burned up in meeting you their grinning parents tucked around them again readying for another misty night leaving Thorin smirking as you accepted the car keys from him with his peck on your knuckles and murmur to drive safe.

Oddly at your mid shift lunch a call from Echo came through causing your brow to inch up in confusion. “Echo?” You asked upon answering. “Nothing’s wrong?”

“No, not in the least. Merely we wished to inquire about your in home studio.”

“Oh, it was installed earlier. Why?”

“Well we have a crew coming in to work on your floor starting tomorrow. Right in your time slot too, so we were thrilled to settle the repairs then hearing that you would be so amply equipped to handle your show at home.”

“How long will these repairs be taking?”

“Two weeks, minimum. It would be a huge favor to us, we have tried to discuss shifting the other shows to other floors and apparently there are rituals and rivalries and such.”

Giggling softly you said, “No problem, did you want me to call Mal about it?”

“No, we shall handle that, you enjoy your lunch. We will drop by and get you set up in the morning tuned in to broadcast from home.”

“Careful there, or someone might try to assume you were hoping to make this permanent.”

Lowly he chuckled, “You and I both know there is ample tale to tell on that book of yours, more than just Bunny’s side of things. Perhaps we might have special dates to let you relax by broadcasting at home. Give you some more time with your betrothed. Have you talked titles yet?”

“No, not yet, I know the media is onto it,” you replied glancing at your plate pushing a piece of chicken.

“I didn’t mean to sour your mood. Just curious Dear, take your time.”

“I’m just, I wouldn’t even know what to call him if I tried on my own. He doesn’t seem like a boyfriend,”

Again he chuckled, “You could go Partner, Significant Other always sounds a bit cold.”

“Maybe.”

“Think on it, enjoy work and your rest we shall see you in the morning. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Doubtful.”

With matching smirks you hung up and to yourself you sighed returning to eating try to think of how Mal would take to having the recording done at your home instead behind the desk instead of on the other side of a glass wall with you inside of the soundproof booth. It would be odd to say the least but you imagined Thorin might enjoy it more that you didn’t have to head out so early each day after getting only a few hours sleep. For some unaware of the protective streaks of Dwarves it might seem controlling that his family would want you home more but your friends and relatives were glad to hear that you had found yourself such a protective and considerate a mate to have been betrothed to. Yet for all his urge to keep you safe and happy at home he knew you would go stir crazy after just having gotten started in finally following an old inextinguishable dream of yours.

Pt 42

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

Next Caller - @avaria-revallier

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #Tea Shop AU #Modern AU #Radio Host OC

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curanonemu · 5 years

Text

ateez soulmates au | kim hongjoong

✧ Matching Marks AU ✧

💖💙 Happy Birthday to one (1) beautiful human who does Things to my heart. 💙💖

• tags: hongjoong's pov, slightly art au, sappy!joong, kid-to-adult-fic (is that a tag), cute kids in love, wingman!yunho, spoilers re: seonghwa, fluff, i promise this is not angst, happy ending :D

• word count: 2,950

I hope you guys like thisss! 💖

Hongjoong is four years old when he gets a scratch on his left leg. It's a little above the knee, and he has no recollection of getting hurt anywhere. It just stings a bit, all of a sudden, having drawn his attention, and he complains about it to his mother.

She writes it off as Hongjoong being careless, while he frowns and asserts, in all of his tiny glory: "I'm very careful, Ma!" She hums, the amusement clear in her eyes, her tone of voice all too obvious, "Sure, maybe whatever hurt you was careless." After much grumbling, Hongjoong has to accept her deduction.

He's ten years old, sitting in class and gripping his pen as he listens intently to his teacher, and all of a sudden the pen slips out of his grasp, which is way too wet. He looks down, and what else should he see but a deep gash on his fingers, blood dripping. It doesn't even hurt, but he supposes that that has to do with the intensity of the wound, and not lack thereof. It takes all of his effort to not freak out, externally at least. The teacher sends him to the nurse's office, and the nurse believes that he's a fool despite Hongjoong's insistence that no, he did not slice his hand anywhere against anything sharp 'accidentally.'

Fingers wrapped up and mind buzzing, he returns home glum that day. Why does he keep getting hurt? It's usually some harmless bruises that he doesn't need to worry about, but when he's literally bleeding without a cause, it upsets him.

He's always been careful so that he doesn't get hurt. The scar from six years ago still remains, a thin white line that serves as a reminder of his alleged carelessness.

His mother ends up answering his questions that day. Hongjoong's father seems strictly against the idea, claiming he's too young to know, but it makes him all the more inclined to want to know. So his mother ends up telling him in secret, about how he gets hurt, how someone else is responsible for it. She tells him about soulmates, and he takes it all in, wide-eyed.

She tells him everyone has a different kind of connection, and when he asks what kind she and his dad have, she just smiles secretively.

Hongjoong happens to share a physical link with his soulmate, and whatever marks they get, appear on him too. And they hurt.

He spends the next three years resenting his soulmate, and each time he sports a new bruise, he wonders why he's meant to be with someone so clumsy.

He's thirteen when he twists his ankle while walking, and crashes straight into a rock, the sole of his shoe coming right off, and his heel bleeding. With the pain and the mess comes a rush of something he can't recognise. It feels the slightest bit like guilt, but why in the world? Is he guilty that he hurt the poor rock? He doesn't dwell on it, because his foot hurts too much.

He understands soon enough when his mother makes an off-hand comment about his soulmate's condition. It feels like he's been doused with cold water. How could he forget that someone out there in the world is also suffering with him? Never mind the times he suffered because of them.

Actually, they've always suffered together. He's been hurt because of his soulmate, but right now they're also hurt because of him. He's hurt the person he's meant to give his heart to, in this world. And it makes him feel terrible. No one would want to hurt people for no reason, especially someone precious, so why has Hongjoong always assumed his soulmate is a no-good hooligan?

He spends the next few days doing his best to recover, making sure not to exert himself or jostle his foot any more than necessary.

Yunho makes jokes about Hongjoong's solemate, but even that's not enough to get him to kick his friend.

The only thing that makes the whole ordeal relatively better (read: less embarrassing) is the cast around the new kid's foot. Hongjoong's not the only one with a hurt foot, and even though the other person is not his classmate, it makes everything better.

He hears through classmates that his nameless saviour was on the stairs when they got hurt, and it makes him regret his baseless resentment for his soulmate even more. How could he have blamed them all those years? Getting hurt is inevitable.

Hongjoong ends up leaving a note for the kid in the next class, after much difficulty and a great deal of asking around (read: whining at Yunho till his friend rolled his eyes and found out through his countless contacts). 'I hope it heals soon,' the note says, and he deliberately does not leave a name. It's the least he can do.

A few days later, when he's getting his bandages removed, the doctor peels away the material only for a smiley face to greet everyone. The doctor is surprised and slightly disapproving, but then Hongjoong's mother clears up the misunderstanding; he's not responsible for drawing that. Hongjoong tries not to let his face burn, but it's a lost cause, truthfully.

He comes home and spends a while staring at the doodle on his ankle.

Then, picking up a pen and hoping he's not being absolutely stupid, he uncaps it and sets it to the face, widening the smile slightly. He's being stupid, isn't he? He groans and is about to rub it off completely when he sees something else.

Flowers on his shin. Yeah, he's definitely not responsible for those and they sure weren't there an hour back. He adds a few leaves, watches as loopy tendrils appear on his skin before his eyes, and then he finishes the piece off with a few stray four-point sparkles.

It seems like injuries aren't the only thing he can share with his soulmate.

If he wears the longest pair of socks he has, the next day, then no one needs to know.

They fall into a routine after that. Hongjoong does his best not to get hurt, other than the rare loss of coordination that makes him bang his head down on his table when he drifts off while staying up late, studying. His soulmate cools off on their love for getting hurt too.

Sometimes Hongjoong will spy random bruises cropping up on his skin, but there's none of his old irritation; there's just exasperation and a hint of amusement, concern as well. He'll draw all sorts of things around those bruises- spirals, geometric shapes, even flowers which seem to be his soulmate's go-to. And the person on the other end will add to his doodles.

He ends up way too attached to that habit. And he ends up way too good at art.

In high school, he starts painting his little finger's nail, and he's slightly surprised when his soulmate doesn't do anything to that. He wonders if the polish doesn't show up on their nail. But he doesn't dwell long on that. There's plenty of things he hopes they aren't experiencing at the same time as him. Like staying up till two in the night, crying over his curriculum.

He graduates, and things go smoothly as he starts college, with his part-time job on the side.

He meets new people; Yunho introduces him to his other friend, and Seonghwa is too popular but Hongjoong might just secretly consider him his best friend, despite the short time they've known each other. He's upright, responsible, slightly cocky but also a major dork, judging by the way he's obsessed with the word on his body. He all but freaks out when Hongjoong jokes about having the right words for him, but then the latter assures him that they're not soulmates by any chance, and Seonghwa huffs and ignores him for approximately ten minutes before Yunho calls him an idiot and they're all dissolving into laughter.

Some people also make passes at Hongjoong, strangers he meets from Yunho's large circle of friends, and he's forever surprised that they want to date him when he doesn't even spend enough time socialising. Studying music and art doesn't really give him a lot of time to hang out with people.

He's also more than a little faithful to his soulmate, but he'll never admit that to anyone. It's bad enough that Yunho told Seonghwa about Hongjoong's solemate, he'll never tell anyone that he also has a raging crush on his other half.

Towards the end of the semester, he's busy preparing for exams, and his brain seems fried from days of continuous studying when he decides to take a break, stretching and trying to work out the tension in his back. That's when he sees the digits on his wrist.

His lips part, mouth opening till he stares at his wrist in surprise, almost akin to wonder. And then his brain catches up. Someone's got close enough to his soulmate to leave their phone number on their wrist, and they let them. And that number is also adorning Hongjoong's wrist, just like any other mark that he's shared with his soulmate.

Uh oh.

He rubs at his wrist, satisfied when the ink smudges, and he spends all of his fifteen-minutes-long break cleaning his skin, till it's spotless again. If it's a little red from all the rubbing, he hopes his soulmate's skin isn't suffering.

The next day, he has to go through the same ordeal.

Another day passes, and the same thing happens.

And another.

Hongjoong's at his wit's end. It's all getting increasingly frivolous, first bows and then stars and then hearts decorating the same number, and it makes him nauseous.

He also needs to study so he won't fail, and it's not helping that his soulmate has a new sweetheart that they seem all too happy about.

He's lacking sleep, he doesn't remember when he last ate, and instead of music notes he only remembers those ten stupid digits that keep haunting him.

In a second, he makes a decision that he would most definitely not make, were he in his right mind.

Hongjoong rubs off the digits again, too calm. Then he picks up the fanciest pen he owns, the one he bought specifically with his soulmate in mind but never used, and he writes a different sequence of numbers on his wrist.

He shouldn't get in the way of his soulmate's happiness. He will definitely regret it the next day, he's sure of it.

But he can't bring himself to regret putting his own phone number on his skin.

His phone rings, and he jolts, the gravity of the situation creeping up on him a little. He's such a bad person.

It's late at night, so it can't be anyone other than Yunho or Seonghwa, the latter possibly hoping to catch him awake and scold him for it. Hongjoong answers without looking, happy to have any sort of interaction.

"Hmm?" He hums, dragging out the sound into a sigh, and raises an eyebrow as he hears laughter on the other end.

"Kim Hongjoong?"

He shifts a bit, back straightening, "Yeah, that's me..." Seonghwa appears in his mind, tutting at him for not looking at the caller's number.

"Oh, good!" The person on the other end brightens up significantly, before they laugh again and say, "I've been waiting for days, I thought you'd never get around to it. Honestly, the way you've been removing all traces of my number made me think you'd never talk."

Hongjoong's eyes widen, and he's suddenly too awake and alert. "W-who are you?" He asks, hoping they don't catch his stuttering through the line.

"Ah, I, uh..." the person suddenly trails off. Hongjoong is getting increasingly confused and more than a little suspicious, and he wants answers now.

"I..." they start again and Hongjoong's ear perks up. "Just hear me out, maybe?" He hums in response, and hears them inhale before they launch off into a long-winded explanation. "I put my number there because I wanted you to call. But you never did. You just kept wiping it off and I kept trying and I thought you didn't care."

"But you've also always drawn really pretty things for me, and you've been so kind throughout my life, and the way you write your alphabets is so cute that I- sorry, you don't need to know."

"I want to." He cuts them off, head still trying to wrap itself around the absurdity and the near impossibility of the situation, despite hearing and comprehending every word.

"Y-you have good artistic skills. I like your art." They say, and Hongjoong can imagine that they're red, because he feels the telltale tingle in his face too.

"You're my soulmate." He says it more as a statement than a question, and gets affirmation from the person on the other side.

"How do you know my name?"

"You're... not easy to miss. And I realised some time back that you're the same person who left me that note, because of your handwriting."

What note? Hongjoong asks as much.

"The one you wrote when you hurt your foot." They say, and the anxiousness is dripping from their words. Hongjoong almost feels bad, but one thing still doesn't make sense.

"That doesn't really answer my question, you know. How did you call while knowing I'm Hongjoong? You'd only know if you've seen my number before. How can I believe that you're my soulmate?"

He hears another inhale, and he waits for them to steel their nerves before they blurt out something that makes his mental faculties halt for a moment.

"Yunhogaveittome."

"Yunho?" He asks, incredulous as anything. What does Yunho have to do with this?

"Do I really have to tell you everything?" The question ends as a whine, and despite Hongjoong's brain screaming that that's cute, he powers on to his goal. "Everything. Tell me."

"Fine. He gave it to me in school because he found out I had a stupidly big crush on you. I'd liked you ever since someone told me that you left me that note which you thought you were super sneaky about. The one where you told me you hoped my foot healed soon."

Oh.

"But I never did anything despite having your number. And I also felt bad because my soulmate was so cool and kind and great. I didn't want to pursue someone else when my soulmate was drawing me stars and swirls and putting up with my clumsy self."

Oh.

"Then I realised that you had similar handwriting to that of my soulmate and I really hoped that you were the same people, but I chalked it up to wishful thinking. It was just a coincidence that you were hurt at the same time, right?"

The pieces are slowly falling into place, and Hongjoong blinks as his head spins a bit.

"I decided to delete your number and forget you, because it was getting too dangerous. But then- then!" The person's voice gets animated, "I decided to share my own number with my soulmate, because I wanted to see what they'd do."

"And they rubbed it off." Hongjoong supplies, ever-so-helpful and receives enthusiastic agreement.

"Exactly! They kept rubbing it off even though I hoped and hoped that they'd call."

"They thought it belonged to someone who was wooing you." He mumbles, his voice faint to his own ears.

"O-oh. I- no." Laughter; laughter that makes Hongjoong's ears burn, makes him run a hand through his hair anxiously. "Definitely not. I already told you I decided not to pursue anyone. Kim Hongjoong was already a guilty pleasure." The last two words are whispered into the line, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"What did you think when you got theirs?" He asks, voice trembling slightly. It's because he's cold and tired, definitely, not because he's warm and embarrassed and slightly giddy.

"I was surprised. I couldn't tell what was happening. On one hand, I thought it was my soulmate's. On the other, I recognised it and thought the world was playing a trick on me. For a second I even thought Yunho could be it, and he'd made a fool out of me but then I called and you answered and who wouldn't recognise your voice?"

"What about my voice?" He asks, and he's not disappointed when he hears the shy but excited response of how he sounds really distinct and pleasing to the ear and other admissions that make Hongjoong's lips twitch up in a grin.

He picks up the same pen, writing out under his number one last thing that he needs answered. Make it two things.

'Why are you so clumsy? Why do I love you despite that?'

"Excuse me?! Sorry that I bruise easily! And I'm sorry that I'm still so adorable and adorable. Let me remind you, my foot hurt pretty badly when you hurt yours! It hurt enough that I fell down the stairs. You're lucky I was at the second to last step, or you'd be so much worse! Ungrateful." Hongjoong's shoulders shake as he stifles his laughter, hearing you huff indignantly.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and allowing a smile to spread over his face as he listens to your voice.

Ah.

It's the person he's been going back and forth with for so long, the person whose life has affected his so much. He's talking to the person for whom he draws leaves and flowers and writes sappy lyrics.

It's the person he's been waiting for, all these years.

It's his soulmate.

It's you.

(Thank you so much for reading.♡ I hope you all enjoyed it. You can find the rest of this series under my '#ateez soulmates' tag! ♡♡)

#ateez #ateez imagines #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong imagines #ateez soulmates #ateez scenarios #cura writes

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fight-for-humanity · 4 years

Text

Hunger

[cw: violence, swearing]

A dim glow of the street lamps illuminated the quiet town of Redacre. From this sight alone, one might make the assumption that it was a normal, peaceful town, where families gathered around the dinner table each evening to have a meal together and spend time in each other’s company, or where kids would go to school to meet up with their friends to laugh, joke, and talk about the most recent gossip or who they were going to junior prom with. But, I knew better. We all did. Dinner tables were often empty. Families were too tired to spend time together, either because they never slept or they dug down in the labyrinth hidden underneath the town all night. Innocent teen gossip was replaced by the somber air surrounding the discussion of who went missing the previous night.

And then there were kids like me, sorry bastards who were fortunate enough to hear Voices in our heads and wake up in the middle of the night in odd places where we didn’t initially close our eyes. I was a member of the esteemed Blackout Club who sought to disrupt the nightly operations of one of these mystifying Voices, often at the expense of a good night’s rest. Fortunately for me, it was the last objective of the night. Upon its completion, I would be able to head back to the boxcar for a quick nap before sneaking back home. Some nights, I had a group to keep me company, but not this night. Schedules clash and accidents happen, especially with the risky work we’re doing. I zipped up my black hoodie to stave off the cold Virginia air. I wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

Bzzzzzz.

I froze suddenly, then grimaced. Damn phone. I wish I could just turn it off during missions, but HQ insists we leave our phones on so they can track our progress and send us updates while we’re “out in the field”. Admittedly, it provides some insurance, in the odd case we get suppressed and need to be saved in the morning. Still, I can’t help but jump out of my shoes everytime it buzzes in my pocket. With a sigh, I retrieved the damn thing and looked at the message.

Your Stalker: “Behind you.”

A gasp escaped my lips. My blood ran cold at the sight of the text message. Reflexively, I twisted my head around to see a familiar face, one I hoped I wouldn’t see again. Aaron Costa, leaning against a tree and looking directly at me. A black bandana covered the lower half of his face, and he wore a signature white and red jacket. The last time I saw him, he tried to drag me to the red door, force me to live in an eternal slumber, listening to the same old song forever. He tried to make me a walking puppet for the Voice that was deemed worse than the others.

“Please. Don’t freak out,” he hushed before I could say anything, his hands raised half way in an attempt to appear unthreatening. It was a decent attempt, but at his height, he mostly towered over me. He’d be a threat to the average person. Still, for as much of a threat that he was, my eyes couldn’t help but wander to the scar down the side of his face. It was the battle wound I gave him when I managed to get away from him on that fateful night.

I took a step back. “What the hell do you want?” I hissed, teeth bared. I glanced left and right to look for possible escape routes. I might be able to outrun him. I knew for damn sure I could out maneuver him. The Club’s training made sure we could escape an enemy bigger than ourselves.

“I need your help, RK,” Aaron pleaded, pulling down his bandana and taking a step forward. In response, I took a couple steps back. If he gets within arm’s reach of me again, it’s game over. I’ll be at the red door before I know it, and I have no spare drone part to save me this time. He froze, noticing that I was putting space between us. “I’m…” he stammered. It was odd to see him flustered. He always had this air of calm around him, but I guess that’s just who I thought he was. It was just a ruse to get close to me, so he could convert me to his weird religion.

“I’m sorry about what I did. What I said about your brother was insensitive,” he continued. “I was just…” he paused, searching for words. “I didn’t expect you to respond like that. I thought I could show you how that club lies about us, how destructive they are, how much better it would be with us. I failed, so I felt like... it was the only way to keep you as my friend. It was desperate and stupid.” There was a certain honesty behind those brown eyes, imploring me to listen. I was such a sucker for sob stories, but the voice of reason in my head was too strong. I knew we could never be friends like we once were.

“Well, what the hell did you expect to happen?” I growled, tightly crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You chose your Voice over me, a person! A human being!” Aaron didn’t respond, his gaze sinking to the ground. Did he want to argue about it, but was holding his tongue? I wasn't sure. In a different town, with no Voices, we would have been friends. I couldn’t help but wonder how my other relationships would be different if the looming threat of Voices didn’t hang over everyone.

Here, in Redacre, I wasn’t afforded that opportunity. I always had to remember the grasp the Voices had on everyone, how much people tried to fill in missing puzzle pieces with them, to dull the emptiness and pain that was so common to the human condition. I had to remember what people were willing to do for the Voices. I could never forget. My honest friendship could never compete with a millennia of manipulation techniques. I’m not good enough. I would be thrown to the wolves easily, just like before.

After a moment of silence between us, my curiosity got the best of me. With a sigh, I asked, “What do you need help with? I’m not doing any stupid Chorus things.”

The tension in Aaron’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. “No. It’s nothing like that,” he explained. “We are...being hunted. By the Beast."

"The Beast?" I asked.

"The Hunter," he clarified. "Some of us have gone missing, and I know you have been making notes."

I arched a brow. "How do you know that?"

"Kids talk at school," he answered. "Please, RK. I don't want more people getting hurt. I just need more information so I can help protect them."

"You mean protect more Stalkers like you?" I gave him a skeptical look and planted my hands on my hips.

"No matter what you call them, they are still people," he responded with a frown.

I paused. Dammit, Aaron. He was right, in his own twisted sense. The thought of more people forced under the Hunter's sway hit a particularly sensitive nerve.

With a soft sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flipbook. With reluctance in my tone, I held it out to him and said, “Here. These are the more recent field notes.”

Aaron reached out and took it, his eyes scanning the little pages as he flipped through them. “The Hunter is experimenting on people?” he asked.

“With these weird tablets, yeah,” I answered with a nod.

“And these curses…” He murmured, his face scrunching in confusion. He flipped the notebook around and pointed at a poorly drawn doodle of a person with sharp, gnashing teeth. “What does this mean?”

I couldn’t help but snerk at my own artistic talent. “That’s, uh, one of the curses.” That answer didn’t seem to work for Aaron. He still looked helplessly confused, and a little concerned. “It’s called the Hunter’s Hunger. It gives you, like… these cravings, where you just want to, like, bite someone. It’s like mental torture if you try to resist it.”

He frowned and flipped to a new page, taking a moment to study before looking back to me. “Can I keep some of these pages?”

“Yeah, whatever. The curses and stuff are the last four pages,” I said grudgingly. Aaron gave me a grateful smile as he ripped the pages out and handed the flipbook back to me. “Do you really not know anything about what’s going on with the Hunter? Are your people not told anything?”

Aaron’s lips pursed. “Anything we’re not told is to protect us and keep us safe. I trust them.” I let out a sigh at his response. Clearly, they weren’t being kept safe if Stalkers were disappearing, but he had such blind devotion that he’d be willing to sweep anything under the rug. Is that how they all are? Every kid who has an attachment to a Voice? Voices become so infallible that they can do nothing wrong?

“Hello? Someone there?”

Aaron and I both froze as a foreign baritone broke the silence of the night’s gentle ambience. The voice didn’t sound familiar, and judging by Aaron’s reaction, it wasn’t a Lucid or anyone he knew either. It definitely didn’t have that Lucid masked-sound to its tone.

“Come on. I knew I heard ya. Come out, come out,” the voice cooed.

“Who is-” I began to whisper, but Aaron halted me with a soft shush, his finger pressed against his lips. He turned around and slowly stepped towards the nearby house, pressing his back against the wall. I followed him as he peeked around the corner in order to take a look at the strange fellow for myself, but Aaron stuck out his arm to block me before I could go further. He turned his head and gave me a look of concern. I shot him a nasty look. Aaron really needs to do something about his annoying “save everyone” superhero attitude. With an annoyed sigh, I grabbed his wrist and pushed it down and out of my way. He didn’t try to hold me back again, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders sulk.

A man that appeared to be in his early twenties walked down the street, looking under cars and behind corners for us. He wore torn up jeans and a loose black t-shirt. I looked a little closer and it looked like a rock band shirt with a colorful, abstract logo, but it wasn’t any band that I knew of. His shoulder-length dirty blond hair was pushed behind both of his ears.

“Greyson Burke,” Aaron whispered, his brows arched in surprise.

“You know him?” I looked up at him with a curious look.

“He was a senior at Central High when I was a freshman,” Aaron answered, his eyes still trained on Greyson. “After graduation, his band started playing at one of the local bars, but they stopped a few months ago. I thought their band split up, or something.”

Greyson was getting closer. I could see a wicked grin stretched across his face, his crazed green eyes still searching for the source of the voices he heard. A few more moments, and he would be upon us.

Aaron turned his body to me. “I’ll distract him. You go home, RK,” he told me. Sounds like a plan. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I was sure Aaron would be fine. He can handle himself. I gave him a nod as he stepped out of our hiding place out onto the street towards Greyson. I turned the other way and started sneaking back to the privacy fence, but I stopped. Curiosity got the better of me. I retracted my steps and peaked around the corner to watch the exchange.

“There you are. I knew I heard someone,” Greyson said with a sick grin. There was something off about his body language. The way he curled his fingers and dug his nails into the side of his pants. The way he would occasionally gnaw at his lower lip, and how he breathed through a partly open mouth. He wasn’t well. There was something wrong with him. He looked… hungry.

“What are you doing here, Greyson?” Aaron answered, his voice tense.

Greyson gave a nonchalant shrug, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wetten his lips. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d take a stroll, and look for a dance partner, y’know?” He took a step forward, approaching Aaron. “Is that… Is that you, Aaron? Aaron Costa?” He craned his neck forward, squinting his eyes to get a better look. “Damn, boy. You’ve gotten tall!” He threw his head back and laughed, hand holding his stomach. Recomposing himself, he wiped his eye with the back of his hand and took another step forward. “Have you been working out? You look strong. I bet you would make an excellent dance partner.” Aaron stood his ground, not responding as Greyson studied him. When his green eyes landed on the side of Aaron’s face, his grin grew wider. “Nice scar. Want a matching one on the other side?”

“Why don’t you just go home?” Aaron said, eyes narrowing. You wouldn’t think he was nervous by the tone of his voice, but I could tell he was by how he gently fidgeted with the corner of his jacket between his fingers.

Greyson released a piercing laugh. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to dance?”

“Are you really looking for a fight you can’t win?” Aaron responded with an incredulous look. He had a point. Greyson was a bit gangly, compared to Aaron. Plus, Aaron had height on him. You could easily make the initial impression that Aaron would overpower Greyson in a fight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t know about that,” Greyson said with a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. “You might be a big bastard. But... I don’t play fair.” In a swift motion, Greyson pulled his hands out of his pockets and lunged at Aaron, his hand gripping a pocket knife. My eyes widened as I caught sight of the weapon, a breath catching in my throat. Aaron had a similar reaction and reacted quickly by grabbing Greyson’s wrist. I heard a growl from Greyson’s throat. “Come on, Aaron. Just a little bite!”

I stood paralyzed as the two struggled with each other. Aaron would still be fine, right? Of course he would win. Anxious thoughts continued to run through my head as the battle waged. Greyson was stronger than he appeared, and Aaron was wearing down. Block after block, dodge after dodge. The pocketknife caught his heavy, white jacket a couple times, ripping into the material that was fortunately thick enough to protect his skin. Maybe Chorus does care after all. Aaron couldn’t manage to get a hold on him to subdue him, and every punch he landed didn’t seem to phase his attacker. There was something unseen fueling him, some hunger.

Greyson shoved Aaron back against a sedan, his body slamming against the metal with a reverberating bang. Aaron grimaced and momentarily lost his footing, but caught himself by grabbing the trunk of the car. “Gah...Shit...” Wow. Aaron actually swears. It would have been funny if this was not a life or death situation. I had seen enough. Panic was settling in, and if I did not do something, Aaron would just turn in to another missing Stalker. I stepped out of my hiding spot and made a bee-line towards them both.

“This was fun. Sorry it’s over already,” Greyson taunted. He reversed the grip on the pocketknife and moved in. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my feet pounding against the pavement. With a battle yell, I barreled into Greyson, catching him by surprise and knocking us both to the ground. The pocketknife clattered against the concrete out of his reach.

I winced as I fell and twisted my head around to where Greyson landed. On his hands and knees, he shook his head, hair draping over his face. He slowly turned towards me. “RK...RK....RK… There you are. Did you want to play too?” he growled as he stood, his face splitting into a wide smile. I hoped I bought Aaron enough time to recover.

I scrambled to my feet, but before Greyson could change his target, Aaron moved behind him and slipped his arms underneath his armpits, locking his hands behind his neck. Greyson struggled to free himself from the hold, his arms flailing in the air. Aaron twisted his body and threw Greyson against the car, his head smacking into the window and shattering the glass. Greyson fell limp to the pavement, shards falling around him.

I flinched at the sight, but I was distracted by Aaron’s urgent plea. “Leave him.” Together, we ran off away from the street and houses, the blaring car alarm becoming more and more distant the farther we ran. Soon, we were surrounded by trees, only the soft glow of Redacre’s lights visible over the dense foliage.

“I told you to go home,” Aaron said after twisting around to face me. He was in bad shape and struggled to catch his breath.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Aaron. You’d be dead if I did,” I retorted, looking at him defiantly.

Guilt flashed across his expression, but he managed a soft smile and held out his hand, extending it towards me. “Thank you for having my back. I hope we can be friends again,” he said to me.

I looked at his hand, lips pursed into a frown. A long moment passed between us before I turned my body. “Be careful on your way home, Aaron,” I gave him those parting words, pulling my hoodie over my head as I walked away.

Never again.

#the blackout club

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greeneyedgirls4 · 5 years

Text

Heart of a Saint. Life of a Sinner

Summary - Her name was Raven. She had it all. The mind, good looks and sparkling personality. She truly was the Queen of everything.. or so she would let you think.

Her name was Raven.. and this is the story of how she died.

Chapter - 1/32. Bucky x reader.

Warnings - None. Just some fluff and of course a happy(ish) ending because you know me :) The first few chapters probably have awful writing because I started writing this then couldn't write for a good year (it was a bad year) and only got round to continuing it when I got back so please go easy on lil me lol. Are you all ready for this rollercoaster? I can’t wait for you all to read the rest.

You can also find me and this story on - AO3 and Fanfiction.net so feel free to leave some feedback wherever suits (I love feedback so honestly go for it!) please and this is my Masterlist. Thanks and enjoy!

The human mind is truly the scariest thing of all.

My name is Raven. I’m from New York City, have a little pain in the ass brother called Den and I’m a normal young woman.. or at least I was until Hydra decided to kidnap me, experiment on me and force me to build various machines and medicines that will create their army.

As I said, my name is Raven but I’m not a normal young woman anymore. I’ve been through a lot and when you read this, I’m more than likely dead.

1931

High school. The two words I had been trying my best not to think of the whole Summer but instead, here I am, walking into the shiny new school on my first day.

It was a bright cold day in September. The breeze is soft through my hair and the smell of freshly cut grass engulfs me.

What more could you ask for?

Summer. That’s what but it had flown by. I spent most of my days reading but when I wasn't doing that I was taking my little brother Den to his random soccer games or making sure we both got fed. Our parents aren't exactly the caring type so I was forced from a young age to learn how to bring up myself but when I turned six, Den was born and I had to learn to bring up him too. Bringing myself and Den up wasn't the easiest thing in the world but when you grow up around two alcoholics.. it’s not the hardest thing either.

Making my way through the iron gates I don't hear someone calling my name until I feel a small hand grip my shoulder. “Raven! I told you to wait for me at the park.”

I turn when Mary's voice reaches my ear. Of course she would have her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She always was the school pet in that way, following all the rules. “Sorry Mary. I totally forgot.”

We both turn towards the school building again and continue our journey to our classroom. When I reach the seat assigned to me I smile to myself when I see that Mary will be beside me, my smile quickly fades when I see the name on the other side of me. Bucky Barnes. He was known as the most popular boy in our neighbourhood.. and not for good reasons. Yes he's handsome and he has that whole bad boy look down to a T but he also flirts with anything that moves.

“Was Dennis giving you a hard time again this morning?” I’m snapped from my thoughts when I hear Mary’s quiet voice.

I take out my notebook and pencil and settle into my seat as the rest of the class filters in. “He wasn't too bad. Just a bit annoyed that I’ll be finishing later than he is now so he has to wait with the teacher.”

I hear her sigh and it’s not long before she's digging for answers again. “How many bottles have they drank today then?”

“Three.” I reply, lifting my green eyes to meet her sparkling blue. “It is nine o'clock and that was from last night so they are getting better.”

“You keep telling yourself that Rav.” She says and that’s when I look away from her. Mary has been my best friend since we were two. We met when she fell over in front of my house and mum had to bring her inside to patch up her cut knee. After that day, we would see each other all the time and soon became fast friends.

I lift my eyes to see the grey haired teacher make her way into the room but instead of watching longer I decide to pick up my pencil and doodle in my notebook. A habit of mine when I’m bored unfortunately.

After a few minutes I hear a rustling beside me and a husky cough. Lifting my eyes once more I meet the steel blue eyes of James or as everyone likes to call him.. Bucky.

“You alright there neighbour?” He says with a cocky smile and I can’t help the low groan that escapes me.

“Perfect. How about you Bucky?”

“Living life like there’s no tomorrow.” Bucky replies, his eyes still focused on mine. He leans forward, just enough for me to be able to smell the light aftershave on him. “I do love it when you say my name by the way.”

Again I groan only this time I roll my eyes too just to emphasis how much he was annoying me right now. “Good to know.” I whisper, turning my head towards the teacher who was now writing on the blackboard.

Throughout class I glance at Bucky every so often and find him already side eyeing me, only turning away when my eyes meet his. It was no secret among my friends that I have had a crush on Bucky for years, even when he annoys the life out of me. He was the first person outside of my family that I had met when we moved next door to him. I was only two when we moved from Queens to Brooklyn but I distinctly remember meeting him for the first time when he kicked a football at my head, only to miss and break my mum’s favourite plant pot.. which I then got the blame of and ended up with a fractured wrist for three weeks.

He’s never been overly nice to me though. Always teasing me, flirting maybe too but mostly doing those usual childish things that boys do to annoy girls. Today was actually the longest conversation we have had without one of us annoying the other person to the brink of wanting to stick a pencil in their eye. I think he just sees me as his little annoying neighbour. Suits me.

When class finishes I quietly leave before Mary, or even Bucky, can stop me for a chat. Making my way down the corridor I feel a strange sense of familiarity. I couldn't pinpoint what it was that seemed so familiar. Maybe it’s the fact I’m walking alone or that I’m trying to find any opportunity to just leave home and run away and marry a rich man who will hire someone to kill my parents once and for all. Yes, that sounds like it.

“Oui.. Raven.”

“Good start Bucky.” I say, turning my whole body to face him as he walks, no, saunters towards me. God this man would be the death of me. Between his gelled back brown hair, those piercing blue eyes and that smile that could melt anything in its path.. yes he was going to kill me.

He frowns and I know he's already confused by my quick reply. “What do you mean good start?”

“You remembered my name.” I reply, looking him straight in the eye. When he continues frowning, I give up. “I was being sarcastic Bucky.”

“Ohh. I thought you were actually being nice to me for once.”

“You're not that lucky. Now what did you want?” I say, nodding for him answer quickly before my English class starts.

I watch him run a hand through his hair before he answers. “Could you be my p-partner for that assignment the teacher was going on about?”

“Why?”

“I just thought because we live beside each other and are beside each other in class so it would be easier to work together.”

I glance behind him as Mary comes out of the classroom batting her eyelids at a tall black haired boy who looks like he would rather be anywhere but right there with her. “Erm.. sure. As long as this isn't any kind of joke.”

“Why would it be a joke?” He says and he almost sounds vulnerable which causes guilt to bubble up in your chest. An emotion you are not too familiar with.

“I know you Bucky. You play people, you joke and you’re with a different girl every bloody week. I don't want us to suddenly sleep together and for me to end up being another girl in a long line. This is school and a project, no jokes.”

He nods his head and I sigh with relief. “No jokes. I promise.”

“Good. It’s hardly like we are even friends anyway.” I whisper, ignoring the hurt look on Bucky’s face and turning around to make my way into the English studies classroom.

Well this was going to be fun..

Tagging a few friends to spread the word a bit more hopefully - @deathbyukmen @ex-bookjunky @fanboyswhereare-you @myplaceofheavenorhell @galacyan-imagine @xllizette @honeybournehippy @sgtbxckybxrnes @wolfpawn @jackierand @cumonbucky @scarlettsage77 @lokisgloriouspurpose9 @archy3001 @redlipstickandplaid @unicorns-and-fairy-dust @starstruckpastalandbear and anyone else who wants to have a nosy xo

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yiriono · 5 years

Text

I ESPecially Like You

Description: One day Jaehyun walks in on his classmate, Taeyong, performing an exorcism.

!highschool au

!psychic au

A/n: Hey guys! This is a high school au Jaeyong fic. Hope you enjoy. Also cross posted on AO3 and AFF. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Beginning

The ongoing lecture fades into the background, as Jaehyun glances at the clock, eager for class to end. He’s bored, very bored, so bored, in fact he’s resulted to doodling on the corner of his textbook to pass time.

He’d never been a numbers guy, let alone a math person, but here he is anyways, sitting through calculus. Jaehyun didn’t plan on taking the class, considering he barely passed pre-calc, but it was his mom who convinced him to register.

“It’ll be good for your college applications,” she said, “You need to take a harsh course load”.

When he refused, she retaliated with incessant nagging, until Jaehyun eventually caved. She didn’t know the reason he was so hesitant was because it meant removing the class he actually wanted to take: Art.

He hasn’t told her, or anyone really, that he wanted to go to art school. It just didn’t seem like a feasible option, especially when his mom was dead set on his premed pathway. He tried to drop hints, like alluding to RISD’s prestige or talking about the vast career options available for creatives, but each time he gets the same reply. “You can’t make money as an artist, and it’s a dying career. You’re better off as a doctor.”

To that, he scoffs. If anything doctors will get replaced by robots, making med a dying career. But begrudgingly, he listens to her and adds calculus to his course load.

Now sitting here, as the teacher blabbers about derivatives, Jaehyun really regrets the decision. He doesn’t feel like paying attention, instead focusing on his drawing, which is beginning to look less of a doodle but more so a full out sketch. He’s adding contrast to the shadows when his mind drifts to the anime he started last night.

Mob Psycho. A story about an ordinary middle school boy who has special ESP powers.

It occurs to him that he’s an ordinary boy too. Maybe not in middle school but high school should be a fair substitute. What if he actually has powers that have laid dormant in him the whole time? What if, right?

Jaehyun wonders if he concentrates hard enough, maybe he could activate hidden abilities and make time move faster. It’s an immature delusion, but he’s desperate and bored enough to try.

First he clears his mind, before clenching the muscles in his arm, summoning this strange tension that spreads to his fingertips. He points his middle finger at the minute hand, and in one swift motion, moves it up.

As expected, nothing happens. The clock still beats its regular rhythm, continuing it’s dreadfully slow descent to 3pm. He sighs, dropping his hand in defeat. The only thing Jaehyun learns from class was that he has a bad case of eighth grade syndrome.

♥

When the bell finally rings, Jaehyun rushes for the door, only to be blocked by the lanky senior, Doyoung.

“Move” he wails, trying to squish through. But the other boy doesn’t budge.

“Where do you think you’re going”

“Home” Jaehyun retorts, again trying to squirm his way out.

“Oh no you aren’t” Doyoung chuckles. He yanks Jaehyun’s collar, and drags him out into the hall. The brunette tries to free himself, but Doyoung’s grip is firm. “Remember, you still owe me one.”

Jaehyun lets out a low whine. “Please not today”. More than anything, he wants to go home. The day, though mundane and ordinary, felt absolutely draining. What he needs to do right now is plop onto his bed, play his phone games, and recharge before spending the rest of the evening catching up on the wasted calculus lesson.

Unfortunately, the older boy isn’t at all sympathetic. “Lot’s of work to be done,” he says, completely ignoring Jaehyun’s plea, “It’s nearing exam season, so the student council is especially busy. You’re going to help us with the mountain of paperwork piling on my desk.”

Doyoung pinches his nose bridge, as he lets out this frustrated sigh. “I swear it never ends. Just when I think I’m done for the day, the administration needs us to do more.”

To this, Jaehyun can’t help but to feel sorry for the elder.

He’s weak, always has, at rejecting people’s requests, especially Doyoung’s. During freshman year, they shared a class together; the older had forgotten to take his mandatory art credit the year before, which resulted in being placed in a lower grade. The other boy, though irritatingly uptight, had grown to become one of Jaehyun’s best friends. So as much as he’s craving to rewind at home, he’d rather not have Doyoung work till death.

“Okay fine” he concedes.

Doyoung’s taken back, clearly not expecting Jaehyun to agree. He lets out a grating laugh, causing some heads to turn towards them, before his lips settle into a small smirk. “Good boy.”

Jaehyun groans at the reply. “Don’t make me change my mind” he warns, but with no resolution to enforce his words.

♥

By the time Jaehyun finally leaves school, the sun was beginning to set. Orange and purple hues spread across the sky, expansive and continuous like the sea. Slowly, the bustling town begins to retire: with shops flipping their open signs, cats returning to their homes, and children abandoning the park swings.

The walk home gives him mixed feelings. It’s strange seeing the once lively streets desolate. But at the same time, the emptiness is calming, giving Jaehyun the luxury of silence.

He’s about to reach the end of the block, when he hears this loud crash coming from the alley up ahead. It’s followed by a gruff yelp, and the sound of explosions, like those dramatic booms you hear in action movies.

An ominous feeling travels across Jaehyun’s body, causing him to shiver. He should probably turn back now and take another route, whatever's going on sounds like trouble. For all he knows, it's a gang fight or a mugging. He backs away, ready to run away, before he hears this shrill scream.

It’s a woman, and she sounds distressed.

This was probably a signal for him to get the fuck away, but Jaehyun can’t move. Not when someone’s in trouble. Every instinct in him is telling him to withdraw, but he doesn’t break. Instead, he takes a deep breath, before forcing himself to run up to the alley. His feet feel heavy, a sign of his body’s resistance, but he goes through with it anyways.

He’s standing near the entrance, expecting some grand crime to be occurring, but only to be greeted by darkness. But the screams are still ongoing, sounding even more twisted and pained than previously.

Jaehyun takes another step, when he notices something.

There, at the very back of the alleyway, is this boy wearing a red jacket, his face is covered by the hood. His arm is outreached, while his hand is bent in a way that looks like a claw. Jaehyun’s eyes trail up to the direction the boy’s facing, before he sees it.

The source of the eerie noises, also the most disgusting thing Jaehyun has ever seen: a tall, black figure, with what seems like human hands sticking from its sides. The thing suddenly leaps at the boy, but only for him to suddenly disappear, causing the monster to miss and slam right into the floor.

The boy in the red jacket then appears out of nowhere, before raising his arm, positioned in the same way Jaehyun had earlier in class, and flicks his wrist. This causes the black figure to be flung up: and when the boy moves his wrist down, accordingly, the figure is hurled back down. The thing momentarily stops moving, clearly worn out by the battle that’s transpired. Jaehyun watches, absolutely shocked, as the boy walks over to the figure while muttering something Jaehyun can’t make out, lifts his hand and snaps.

The disgusting creature vanishes. Gone. Vamoosh.

Jaehyun blinks hard, several times, but the thing really did disappear. He barely has time to process what had just happened when the boy in the red jacket lets out a satisfied chuckle, and bends over to pick up a blue backpack that was leaning against the brick wall. At some point during the fight, the hood had fallen off, revealing matching bright red hair that messily spikes all over the place. But in the dim lighting, Jaehyun can’t make out the boy’s face.

“Oh shit there’s garbage all over you” the boy mutters to his backpack, as he picks off the unwanted remnants that litter the bag.

It doesn’t strike Jaehyun that he’s been standing there in utter silence the whole time until the boy, who had been walking towards the exit, suddenly stops in his trail when he sees Jaehyun.

As a final departing gesture, the sun travels to where their standing, finally illuminating the murky alley. Nature exposes the boy, thrusting him away from the mask of darkness, revealing a very familiar face.

“Lee Taeyong?” Jaehyun exclaims.

It’s him alright. That unreal beauty and insanely sharp jawline could only belong to one person.

Taeyong lets out a brief gasp, before suddenly, he dissipates into thin air.

“What the fuck..”

Jaehyun looks around, but there’s not a trace of the other boy, just an emptiness and large garbage bins nestled at the end of the alleyway.

Bewildered, Jaehyun pinches himself. Hard.

“Ow”

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queenmorgawse · 5 years

Text

transmigration for dummies

chapter three. mdzs scum villain au. read on ao3 + end notes. credit to @lee-luca, esp as another bit of the comic is mentioned here. previous | first | next

One hour, thirty minutes and two hundred rules into his punishment, Jingyi is as bored as he’s ever been in this life. To top it all off, the System isn’t responding to any of his pleas for company, only responding with oops ): something went wrong when he tries to ping it. Back home, this is about when he would have given up on homework and started scrolling through his Twitter feed instead, but there’s not much he can do without his phone.

Ugh, he’d kill for one of these crappy McDonalds games. Even a Kinder toy would make him happy right now. Instead, he doodles on his torn-up first drafts, on which the ink made blots from his clumsy first attempts to imitate the original text’s elegant calligraphy.

He silently adds bic pens to the ever-increasing list of modern appliances he misses.

When badly-drawn stickmen get boring as well, he starts to think about the original Lan Jingyi in his life. Maybe that’s how it works, after all. Mom sure would love someone who’d actually go to bed early when she tells him to. On the other hand, once he got over the initial shock of modern Jingyi’s life, he’d probably find it pretty dull. High school isn’t about to compare to flying swords and cultivation, that’s for sure.

Opposite him, Sizhui is bent over his own stack of scrolls, poring over rows and rows of tiny characters and absent-mindedly running his fingers along the lines. From the way he hums to himself when he thinks Jingyi is too busy copying to care, he guesses they’re music sheets of some kind. Unlike Jingyi, he looks like he’s actually engrossed in what he’s doing.

Too bad. Jingyi’s reached that point of boredom at which he needs to talk to someone or else he’ll implode. ( Still, he promises himself he’ll stop if Sizhui shows even a hint of genuine annoyance. )

“Hey, Lan Sizhui ⎯ can I call you just Sizhui? Um, sorry I got you stuck here.”

To his relief, the other doesn’t look irritated, just surprised. “Sizhui is fine,” he ventures after a few seconds. A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good. I was afraid you were still mad me, you’ve been so awkward all day...”

Wait, what? Who’s angry at you? Someone who kicks kittens for fun, probably.

Oh right, me. Maybe he’s the one whose brain needs a reboot. How does he explain that it’s not him who’s mad? Hell, he doesn’t even know what the original is supposed to be mad about. For some reason, it feels weird to ask, just because it seems important enough that admitting he forgot would be insulting.

“Anyway,” Sizhui continues after coughing into his sleeve, “it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize to me. I’ve got to go over these before tomorrow’s lesson anyway, I might as well do it here.”

“Inquiry?” Jingyi ventures, maybe-maybe-not because it’s the only title he clearly remembers from the ones canon mentioned.

“Oh, no. Asking very specific questions is still a bit out of my reach, but Fa...Hanguang-jun wrote down a list of phrases for me, so we’re going to try them tomorrow.” His face softens at the mention of Lan Wangji. If this was a fic, this would be when Jingyi keels over and presses his face into a pillow for a little while.

The chat devolves into musical cultivation. Jingyi muddles his way through it the best he can, feeling like he’s bullshitting an essay out loud, but Sizhui doesn’t seem to find his vague answers all that off-putting. He still pointedly glances down at the stack of unfinished notes on the table from time to time, but since Jingyi’s calligraphy has been getting worse and worse the less attention he pays to it, maybe it’s for the better.

When dinner time rolls around, they eat their bowls sitting on the steps leading up to the Library Pavilion, after Sizhui rightfully points out Lan Qiren would have their skins if they spilled even a drop of sauce on the sect’s precious texts. Gradually, Jingyi feels himself relax.

“So, are we chill?” he asks between two mouthfuls of rice.

Sizhui just stares at him.

Right. No slang. “...I mean, we’re doing good, right? We’re friends?”

Something complicated passes over Sizhui’s expression. It’s too fleeting for him to catch more than a glimpse of it, especially as it’s overridden by his usual calm smile before Jingyi can shove another rice ball into his mouth, but he could swear the other winced.

Well, ouch. It must show on his face, because Sizhui suddenly looks alarmed and adds : “Yes, yes, we are!” Another smile. This time, Jingyi can definitely see the strain. “We’re friends. You don’t have to doubt that.”

“Oh. Great!” Jingyi resists the urge to reach out and gently punch his shoulder. Who knows how it’d be perceived. “We’re gonna spend a lot of time together, if I’ve got to keep copying rules, so...I wanted to make sure.”

【OOC behavior detected : contradiction of backstory despite hints : -20 points. Current balance : 65 points. 】

Shut up! I want him to like me!

“We’re friends,” Sizhui repeats one last time, like he’s trying to convince himself. Then he reaches for Jingyi’s shoulder and gives his robes a tug. “We should get back in there. Two more hours before curfew, you can still get a few lines in. I won’t distract you.”

“Ugh.”

Jingyi makes a face. Sizhui laughs, and the tension from earlier dissolves. “Come on. The more you get done, the faster it’ll be over.”

It turns out they’re both severely underestimating the number of rules Jingyi can break without realizing, and therefore the amount of time they’ll be spending here.

Despite these setbacks, over the course of the next handful of weeks, Jingyi adapts to his new life the best he can. He finds out, with much relief, that even though he can’t access the original’s knowledge and memories, training since childhood pays off even after a body swap. He doesn’t have to think too hard about sparring, just keep a firm grip on his sword, and his muscles can apparently do the rest with minimal effort on his part.

It only works with the actual fighting, though. After going to bed feeling sore all over for a week straight, Jingyi gives up and gives the cold springs a shot. It freezes his limbs off, but the ache gets better after that. It even gets him about a dozen points, which he adds to the rest, gained through menial tasks across the Cloud Recesses and some well-timed mischief.

He also likes to think he gets some progress done with step one of his grand plan to survive this novel. There’s no undoing years of being a pain in everyone’s ass in a matter of weeks, but Jingyi still gives it his best shot - peppered with tasteful cursing at the System when it deducts points for actually following the rules or, you know, not being a dick to everyone he talks to. As a result, he goes from mostly being avoided by the other disciples to tolerated, even if no one but Sizhui goes out of their way to talk to him or invite him to join in on...whatever fun they have.

Jingyi doubts he’s missing out on much, at least where the Lans are concerned. But rumor has it some of the guest disciples snuck out into Caiyi to try some of the local wine, and he’s jealous of that, which is kind of irrational. He doesn’t even like the taste of wine that much, and besides, that may be too much of an infraction for a raised Lan, however prone to rule-breaking said Lan is supposed to be.

( He really can’t afford to slip up again. When he dared chop a solid forty centimeters off his hair after struggling to run a comb through it for the fifth time that week, the System’s alarm blared so loud he almost had an out of body experience. He’d felt the hundred points shaved off his score, though, even if he’d managed to negotiate half of them back. That was the spiritual equivalent of having a car zoom past right as you were about to cross the street, and Jingyi’s in no hurry to do it again...but with that said, it feels great not to have to deal with a bird’s nest every time he wakes up. )

Of course, he can’t just get comfortable with his new daily routine. Something has to happen. This time, said something takes the shape of a summon from Teacher Lan. Jingyi drags his feet over from the Library Pavilion and away from his sixth copy of Gusu Lan rules. His wrist is still complaining every time he bends it a little too far. Fuck corpse powder, it’s carpal tunnel that’s going to do him in.

Speaking of copies, maybe he shouldn’t slump this much. He’s fairly sure there’s a rule for that somewhere in the two thousand and nineties.

Given the circumstances, Jingyi fully expects another lecture from Lan Qiren the moment he sets foot in the communal hall, but quickly readjusts his expectations when he spots the small crowd of disciples gathered around their teacher. Most of them are familiar faces by now, except for the girls, who for some reason live in a completely different part of the Cloud Recesses. Still, he recognizes Lan Fan, the shimei who looks like she could bite your head off but actually gave him some pretty helpful tips on sword stances the other day, Tao Ming, the boy who’d seemed vaguely suspicious of him that first day, and of course, Sizhui in the forefront.

Lan Qiren narrows his eyes at him as he hastily joins the rest of the group. “Late again, Lan Jingyi.”

“Sorry, Teacher. This disciple was busy copying rules when he heard.”

A few of his companions snort, the noise quickly disguised as a sudden and collective bout of coughing. Jingyi can’t blame them ; if he’d heard the same words everyday for weeks on end, he’d be laughing too. Lan Qiren gives a long-suffering sigh, but whatever he’s about to tell them must take precedence, because Jingyi gets away with what might otherwise have been considered cheek.

“Madam Mo of Mo Village has sent us a request for assistance.” Given their teacher’s expression, he might as well said that she’d beaten down their door in the middle of the night and let a donkey loose in the courtyard. “From the servants’ description, it shouldn’t be anything more than a few walking corpses. Nothing a group of juniors cannot handle.”

Yeah, right. Despite knowing he’s supposed to let canon run its course, Jingyi still feels a twinge of apprehension. Why, you ask? He can answer that in two points.

Things Jingyi knows : mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

Things Jingyi doesn’t know : how to kill zombies with swords.

In theory, he did spend the last few weeks training, and he didn’t slack off either, thank you very much. Doesn’t mean he’s ever gone up against a corpse before. He’s a coward, okay? Horror movie night was hell, back in his own world. He’s in no hurry to experience it in real (?) life.

“Lan Sizhui will lead the group,” Lan Qiren continues. “I expect all of you to keep your behaviors appropriate and not bring shame onto our sect.” To no one’s surprise, Jingyi thinks, and throws the interested party a small smile. To his surprise, Sizhui blushes and looks down at his boots, looking both embarrassed and pleased. It’s an unfairly cute look on him, but again, most of his looks are.

Right on cue, the System wheezes to life like it just crawled out of a computer from the nineties.【Beginning stage checkpoint mission assigned. Destination : Mo Village. Mission : ensure the protagonist, Wei Wuxian, makes it to Mount Dafan to meet love interest Lan Wangji. Please click to accept.】

Jingyi mentally slams the Accept button.

Ding! 【Mission successfully accepted. Please read the file carefully for mission details and make appropriate preparations. We wish you success. 】

OOC function, here he comes!

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan jingyi #zhuiyi #transmigrator!ljy #kim's fics

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cynicalkairos · 5 years

Text

Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

CHAPTER FOUR

Word Count: 3178 (i’m sorry in advance)

Warnings: Language, Yelling, Angst, Mentions of Painkillers

Summary: Emma helps Henry deal with his emotional, mental, and physical devastation and work through it.

A/N: Wow, okay. And I said the last one was long. Anyway, I apologize in advance if Ted or Henry seem ooc, but, again, this is how I perceive them dealing with emotions and sadness.

Previous || Next

“Fucking piece of shit!” The sound of glass breaking resounded into the hallway. “How the fuck can someone make a pair of fucking tongs flammable?”

When Emma heard these loud exclamations of profanity, she sprinted to the lab, fearing that something horrible could have happened. She found Henry standing in the middle of glass shards and spilled liquid, cradling his hand in pain. She stepped carefully around the glass and examined the mess, asking, “Professor? Are you okay?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?” Henry asked through gritted teeth. His jaw was clenched together tightly and the wince in his eyes disclosed the extent of his pain.

“Just calm down. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! The shitty mechanics in my hand cause a fucking firework show every time it moves.”

Emma held out her hand and placed a hand on his wrist gently, trying to appease him. “Can I take a look?”

Henry looked up at her and sighed after a moment, averting his eyes back to the ground. “Yes, fine, whatever. As long as you don’t make it hurt a shit ton more.”

Emma nodded absently and brought it closer to her. After looking through the many survival books that Henry had, they found a book about medical care with limited resources. They managed to figure out that the bone in Henry’s hand and pinky was, in fact, broken and required a cast. One cast and a splint later, the only thing left to do was hope for the best for proper healing without medical professionals treating the injuries. The cast was made of paper mache and made rather crudely, while the splint was just a couple leftover popsicle sticks and some tape.

The cast, despite all the gloom and despair that permeated from the professor, was signed by the various occupants of the house, wishing the best of luck for recovery or taking up spaces by doodles. Charlotte wrote down the routine for taking the pain medication for Henry to serve as a reminder for the professor. Emma wrote a note, reassuring him that everything would be fine and whatnot. Bill wrote down some inspirational quotes from musicals that he knew Henry would appreciate. Alice drew a pretty drawing with flowers and butterflies. Paul just wrote his name with a small smiley face.

Even though the people around him tried to alleviate the sadness within him after his fight with Ted, the hole of blank space left a void where he knew Ted’s name would be. Henry tried focusing on the positives like the rest of the drawings on his cast or what Ted would write on his cast, but every time he thought about it resulted in him thinking about the fight and what he said.

Emma saw nothing unusual with the professor’s injuries and carefully let go of his hand. “Did you take any painkillers?”

“I took some on Tuesday.”

“Professor, it’s Thursday.”

“Ah, that must be why it’s being a little bitch.”

“I’ll go get you some,” Emma assured him and left without staying long enough for him to deny her help. When she returned, she handed him the pills and a glass of water. “Take these. It should help.”

Henry didn’t bother to look up and nodded through clenched teeth, downing the pills and the water effortlessly. His eyes darted back and forth as if he was scrutinizing each shard of glass. He then checked his splint and cast again, dissatisfied with the results. “The painkillers will dissolve soon enough. I need to clean this mess up in the meantime.”

“No, I got it,” she said, stopping him from moving past her by placing her hands on his shoulders. Emma saw how Henry gripped the counter beside him tightly with his good hand and leaned on it to support himself. After seeing this happen before, she recognized one of the professor’s spells of dizziness from exhaustion and steadied him. “You— sit down before you collapse.”

“No, I’ve got to—”

“Professor, please, just take a break.”

Henry looked up at Emma and nodded weakly, walking over to the nearest chair to sit down. On the way, he was mumbling incoherent phrases probably cursing the millennial generation or something of the sort.

As much as it hurt her, the Henry Hidgens sitting there now was different from the man that she thought of as one of her closest friends. This version of him was easily irritable and cursed frequently, traits that never appeared in Henry before or, perhaps, around her. Even though he tended to forget to sleep or eat, Emma noticed that this characteristic was only amplified after the fight. When she would wake up during the night because of various reasons, she often ventured to his lab to check on him. Previously, Henry’s sleep habits rooted in his continuous working, but now, he barely worked. He simply sat in the corner of the room either crying or nursing his hand. Whenever she tried to bring it up to him, Henry would brush it off with a dismissive comment or answer vaguely. Either way, he was in pain, both physically and emotionally.

Emma hated seeing him in this state. The combination of pain, sleep deprivation, and regret took a toll on him in the form of disregard for himself and taking his frustration out on others. Previously, Henry was subtle when expressing or dealing with his frustration, but the only difference now was that he did not hide his annoyance from anyone. He snapped at anyone when he left the confines of his lab, but the other people in the house knew that he never meant any words that he said. If he started to get too out of control, Emma would help him calm down, but even then he would apologize and then retreat to his lab for another long period of time.

They sat in silence as Emma pondered the last week and cleaned up the floor. When she was done, she studied him. Henry sat with his head in his healthy hand, dozing off from the sudden stillness, but every time he was almost fast asleep, he woke up with a jump. This sequence of events happened over and over again until Emma sat next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her slowly, his age truly settling in his face. He just looked uncharacteristically… old. The man that she witnessed do graceful leaps into the air with perfect execution looked as if he would fall apart at any second with the softest touch. Henry then took his free hand and placed it on hers, before reassuring her by saying, “I’m fine, my dear. It just hurts.”

“The painkillers haven’t kicked in yet?”

“Yes, but it’s not that,” he said grimly, a bitter smile spreading across his face. “I feel like shit for saying those things to Ted. It was selfish of me to accuse him of not doing anything. In fact, I realized that he performs the most important task out of us all… and willingly as well.”

Emma furrowed her brow, thinking of what that was for a moment. “Really? What’s that?”

The bitterness in his smile morphed into fondness, shifting his glance from her to the wall. “He keeps me sane, Emma.”

“What the hell does that mean?” She asked incredulously. “I practically stopped you from kicking Paul’s ass a couple of days ago when he drank the last of the coffee.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he replied, shaking his head. “Yes, you do a lot for me and you mean a lot to me, my dear. I thank you for that, but… Ted’s effect on me is like a painkiller that works far better than all the fucking morphine in the world combined. All he could do is smile and I forget all of my worries about the potentialities of the apocalypse. In all sincerity, Ted’s one of the reasons I fight to stop the shit that happens out there.”

Emma watched as Henry’s eyes lit up when he talked about him in a way that she hadn’t seen since he talked about him before they were together. He seemed to zone out into the fondness of his memories, but he snapped out of that mindset with a few blinks, before looking at Emma once more.

“And despite how much of a bastard I was toward him, Ted— fuck, I’m so fucking love with him and I hate myself for being such a goddamn fool for not telling him before. I lost him and I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Emma pursed her lips and took in a deep breath. “Well, I know what you’d do.”

“You do?” Henry looked up at her in surprise. “And what would that be?”

“All of this. Exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re sitting here alone when the person you love is out there probably blaming himself for the exact same reasons you are.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Emma said with confidence. ‘For the past week, I’ve watched him empty every bottle of liquor that he can. Now, I know you had a lot of alcohol in this place, so I think you can do that math about his alcohol intake.”

Henry sighed and nodded slowly, running his uninjured hand over his face as an attempt to wipe away the tears. Before he could reason with her, Emma continued, saying, “Don’t you give me any bullshit, Professor, but tell me one thing: why were you fighting in the first place?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I think it’d be good to get out.”

“Well, if you must know,” Henry started, breathing in as he felt the painkillers begin to work.

———

Henry woke up that morning with a jump, startled by a nightmare that disturbed his sleep. He felt the sweat on his forehead and his body and his lungs gasping for air. By this point, he couldn't recall exactly what the nightmare was about, but he knew that it was bad. Most of the time, he could tough through nightmares, but after looking beside him, he knew the rest why.

Ted was not there.

Once the initial shock disappeared, the confusion settled in. Ted never woke up before Henry and even then, left the bed. His lover was the type of person not to leave the confines of the bed unless either Henry was getting up or the world was ending. Finding his bed without Ted caused him to leap out of bed the best he could and rush to get somewhat decent, before heading downstairs.

Henry knew Ted was down there by the smell of the coffee brewing. He followed the scent and found Ted, not only drinking coffee but even making breakfast. This action only piled onto the preexisting confusion. Along with not waking up early, Ted never made breakfast simply because he’s a horrible cook and other people woke before him to do it.

Henry walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee, then walking over to Ted. He pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and leaned against the counter next to the stove.

Ted looked over to him and smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. He gave it a squeeze while saying, “Morning, babe.”

“How’d you sleep?” Henry asked after taking another sip.

Ted shrugged and resumed his cooking. Henry glanced over at the pan and the eggs did not look burned. It looked…almost edible, perhaps good, surprisingly. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. Henry then put his mug down and picked up the spatula next to him, pointing it at Ted. “Who are you? What have you done with my Teddy bear?”

“What the—” Ted said, glancing up at Henry. He then pointed his own spoon at his partner. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

“It’s only a question, love. Answer and everything will be fine.”

Ted slowly turned off the eggs so they didn’t burn and approached Henry, spoon still directed at him. “Make me.”

———

“Woah, Professor,” Emma interrupted him, looking at him with wide eyes. “If you two fucked, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Henry looked like he was experiencing a mixture of horror and amusement and caused Emma to burst out laughing. She watched as the professor turned from pale to a deep red and attempted to formulate a reply.

“Geez,” Emma tried to placate him. “I was just joking.”

Henry rolled his eyes, annoyed but relaxing again. He sighed, before saying, “To address your concern, we didn’t. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter.”

Emma tried her best to stifle back the laughter, but a small chuckle escaped her lips. She couldn’t help it. Anyway, go on.”

Henry nodded and looked back down at his injured hand, playing with the frayed edges once more. He took a deep breath, continuing, “Yes, well, we just had a little fun—”

“That sounds like you fucked, Professor.”

“Okay, we messed around—”

“Still seems like you fucked.”

“Good god, Emma! Stop talking!” Henry snapped, gripping his cast with such strength that he pulled a small chunk of the paper mache out. They both were silent momentarily before he calmed himself down. He mumbled curses at himself for acting in such a way to Emma, while standing up and tossing the piece into the nearest garbage can.

Emma watched him sadly. She wasn’t mad at him or blamed him for yelling at her, but she was certainly shocked that it happened. Then again, Henry, especially now, could be very unpredictable. Emma wasn’t trying to rationalize his uncontrolled anger. She knew that he was trying to do better and he’s in a lot of pain, blaming himself for everything around him. Thinking back, Henry was always like that. Even when he was just her teacher and she was just his student. Before they were friends. Before everything that happened.

Henry returned and sat down, clutching his hand in pain. It hurt and Emma knew that it did, despite the pain medicine taking effect. “I apologize for yelling, Emma. I raised my voice and it was completely uncalled for. I—”

“I know, Professor. It’s fine,” Emma said, placing a hand on his shoulder and feeling him place his on top of hers gingerly. “I know, but you need to talk to him. The guilt, regret, whatever it is— it’s destroying you.”

Henry looked up with wide eyes and paused. He gulped and began toying with the ends again, saying, “I know, but I can’t talk to him.”

“Why?”

“I have reason to believe that he wouldn’t want to see me again after all I said.”

Silence rose again and Emma felt Henry squeeze her hand gently, before putting it on his lap. For the first time in a while, Emma noticed how truly tired he was. The darkness under his eyes appeared darker and emphasized the shadow of his eyes. His cheekbones and jawline were more prominent, but not in a healthy way. The lines on his face seemed deeper than usual, especially the one around the grimace forming on his lips. Based on his appearance, she knew that one thing was for certain, despite how sad or depressing it was: Henry Hidgens had given up.

She didn’t know what exactly, but the drive and the passion that he once had disappeared. Emma remembered the times when she all but dragged him out of the lab to eat or sleep and the times when she would go to check on him and not find him in there but with Ted watching a movie on the couch. Regardless of where that drive was or what it was aimed at, the idea remained simply that, at this particular moment, Henry had no reason to do anything without Ted.

“Professor, what makes you say that?”

“I might have…run into Ted once.”

Emma, who was currently focused on a piece of glass that she neglected to pick up on the floor, sprang up and looked at him with wide eyes. “Hold the fuck up. What?”

“You heard me,” he replied dejectedly, averting his gaze to anywhere but where she was.

“Are you serious? Did you talk to him?” Emma asked, only for Henry to respond by opening his mouth to speak, shutting it, and then finally shaking his head. “Well, what happened?”

Henry hesitated for a moment, before saying, “It was the day after the fight happened. I was going to get some more medication from the kitchen when I saw him in the living room, retrieving alcohol. To put it simply, I froze. I wanted to go talk to him, apologize to him, make everything right again, but I couldn’t. Something was holding me back. Looking back on it, it was the dread that Ted would break up with me and never talk to me ever again, which quite frankly is impossible due to the status of the world right now.

“Anyway, I figured that if I was fast enough, I could get the medication and tried to move as quickly as I could. On my way to the kitchen, I accidentally slammed my bad hand into the cabinet door, making a loud noise and a lot of pain on my part. Ted turned around and looked at me. It felt like forever that we were just standing there, looking at each other. Then he picked up the alcohol and ran back upstairs.”

Henry looked at Emma and put his hands in his lap, sighing. “Before you get on my ass about not talking to him, I couldn’t face the fact that he could reject me. If I marched up to him at that moment, I don’t know what I would’ve said. I could have made the situation worse for all I know. I’ve never had a good reputation with…emotions and relationships, so processing our fight was something that deprived me of sleep, stalled my experiments, and halted my life at the same time. All I wanted to do at that moment was kiss him until both of us forgot everything, tell him how much I love him, and ask for his forgiveness. But, by the way, he looked at me, I think he was in the right state of mind for any of that either.”

The tears began to stream down his face again and he quickly apologized, before standing up and leaving the room hurriedly. Emma wanted to follow him, but she just watched him leave, knowing that he needed some time to think.

Once he left the room, their conversation solidified to Emma that Henry was spiraling downward at a rapid rate and it wasn’t going to be long before he made a rash decision and her fears would come true. At this point, the only person that could prevent him from doing anything irrational was Ted and, even then, Emma dreaded the possibility that Henry was too far gone.

———

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed reading this. I probably edited this chapter maybe three to five times. I just like making Henry suffer a bit.

Also, I know I had to cut the backstory about the initiation of the fight short in the story, but I’ll just tell you the rest for fun.

So basically, they stop play fighting making out and they have breakfast. Then when Henry went down to the lab, he saw that his specimen that he went out and retrieved earlier was gone. He found it in the trash can in an unsalvagable state and knew it was Ted’s doing. Henry then confronted Ted about it and things escalated from there.

#tedgens #professor hidgens x ted #henry hidgens #ted richards #professor hidgens #emma perkins #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #starkid #snaff tedgens

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katedoesfics · 5 years

Text

Breath of the Resistance: Chapter 10

It was well after midnight when they reached the outskirts of the northern forest. Zelda was able to settle down some and slept most of the drive, but Link was still running on pure adrenaline. He wasn’t ready to rest until he knew the sword was in the right hands. They didn’t seem to have anyone following him, so all he could do was keep his guard and pray that there would be no further incident, especially for Zelda. A lot had changed in her life over the last few weeks, and he was sure it was overwhelming for her. He didn’t want her to have to suffer any pain or regrets.

When the trees thickened and the road became just a path, they left the car on the side of the dirt road, they walked the rest of the way into the forest. The forest grew more and more dense and seemed to get darker, even despite the flashlights they carried. Soon, the path disappeared completely and an eerie fog enveloped them. When it finally cleared, they had found the path again, and their car that waited on the side of the road.

“We’ve made a complete circle,” Zelda said with growing frustration. “We’re completely lost.”

Link looked around them. He was certain he hadn’t strayed from the direction they started. He checked his phone, hoping for some use of technology, but even that had failed him. There was no service, and his battery seemed to be draining rapidly. It didn’t matter much; he was trained for situations like this. He didn’t need to rely on anything other than himself. But it was discerning to say the least. Something was strange about this forest. It was no wonder no one dared to enter.

Determined, Link pushed forward once more, following the path until it again melted away into the overgrowth in the forest. Their flashlights seemed to dim as they got deeper, and before long, the fog returned, slowly thickening around them. He felt Zelda push up against him, her hands on his arms.

“This place isn’t right,” she muttered. “We shouldn’t be here. It’s telling us to get out. Let’s get out.”

“You’re going crazy,” Link said. “Nothing’s telling us to get out.”

But at that moment, he heard a sound. It was light and melodic. A song? No, a voice. It was definitely a voice, but he couldn’t make out what it was saying.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered.

Zelda strained to listen but her nothing but her own breath. “Hear what?”

“That voice.”

She listened again but still heard nothing. “I think you’re the one going crazy now.”

Link grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. There was definitely a voice in the forest. He followed the voice, carefully picking his way over roots and logs, rocks and brush, and as they walked, the voice grew louder and the fog seemed to dissipate. Link could hear the voice more distinctly, now, but he still could not understand it. It seemed to speak a language he was not familiar with. It wasn’t Hylian, that was for sure. It didn’t sound like Gerudo, either.

Link.

His pace quickened and the voice grew. He started to recognize a few words. He was positive it was ancient Hylian. Hero… Chosen One… Hylia… Link strained to make out the other words, but still he could only pick out a few words. Courage…. Wisdom… Power…

Before long, the trees seemed to thin out. Their lights brightened. The fog disappeared completely, and a path returned to them. The path continued to wind through the forest, but through the trees, Link could see a soft glow.

“Have I gone crazy,” Zelda started, “or do you see that light, too?”

They hurried forward until the trees disappeared around them, revealing a clearing in the forest, and the voice fell silent. A large Deku tree stood tall in the middle of the clearing, and just before it, stuck in a pedestal, was none other than the Master Sword.

Link and Zelda stood on the edge of the clearing, gawking at the sword that let off a strong, warm glow.

“It’s real,” Zelda muttered in awe. “The Master Sword.”

They approached the sword carefully until Link stood before it.

“No one can pull it out,” Zelda said. “At least, that’s what the ancient Sheikah text says. No one but the Chosen Hero.”

Link looked at Zelda over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Let’s put it to the test, then,” he said. He put his hands on the hilt and tugged at it lightly at first. When it didn’t budge, he pulled at it harder, but still, the sword remained stuck in the stone.

“Guess you’re not the one,” Zelda said, folding her arms across her chest.

Link stepped back and examined the sword. If he wasn’t the one, then who was?

The one chosen by my creator. I have been waiting for you. Only he who holds the Triforce of Courage may wield the sword that seals the darkness. Step forward, Hero. Remember these words: A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage.”

Link watched as a strange light seemed to emit from his hand. A single piece of the Triforce illuminated on his hand. He stepped forward and once more, gripped the sword in both hands. The light strengthened and grew until the entire clearing was bright, and in one, swift motion, he pulled the Master Sword from its slumber. He held the blade out before him as the light subsided, and once more, they were shrouded in the darkness of night.

“This isn’t happening,” Zelda muttered. “This is some crazy ass dream right now.”

Link turned to face Zelda, the sword in hand. He met her gaze but for once, he found himself speechless.

Zelda blinked at him for a moment, then stuttered out, “What the fuck.”

And then he laughed. He laughed at the vulgarities that came out of the princess’s mouth. And in such a sacred place, of all things. He laughed at the idea of him being some hero. He laughed because he had no idea what he was supposed to do with the damn sword. He laughed because their world would soon fall, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could think to do about it.

“That’s it,” Zelda said. “He’s gone crazy. This is it. We’re doomed. Completely fucked.”

“This is a sacred place, you know.”

“You pulled out that fucking sword!”

“I don’t know what to do with it!”

“Shit. We can’t handle this. Who the hell left us in charge? We can’t do this. We can’t save Hyrule. We’re screwed.”

Link hopped down from the pedestal and made his way to Zelda’s side. He didn’t have any answers, but one thing was for sure: he didn’t want to stay in that forest a minute longer than he needed to.

“Let’s just get out of here,” he said. He let the dull blade rest against his shoulder as he lead the way through the forest.

To their relief, it was much easier leaving the forest than it was entering. Dawn was breaking as they found the path out of the forest and they made their way towards the car on the side of the road, just where they left it. Link tossed the sword against the back seat, then climbed in behind the wheel, sitting there for a moment before turning the key in the ignition.

“Please tell me we’re going home now,” Zelda said as she settled into the seat and closed her eyes. “I’ve had enough crazy for one day.”

“Me too,” Link said as he pulled out into the road.

“Guess that means I’m next,” she said. “You’ve got the sword, now I need to find my power.”

“No pressure,” Link said.

“Just promise I can sleep for like, three days before we go out again.”

Link yawned. “Make it four.”

He didn’t look back until they made it back to the highway, and by then, the strange forest was long gone. His wandering mind went further back still to his interaction with Dorian and Impa. And then his heart sank when he saw that Zelda had been found.

Don’t hurt him.

“You know,” Link said. “About last night. You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” He turned his gaze to Zelda, but she was fast asleep. He turned back to the road and sighed softly through his nose. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” he muttered.

*****

Though Link promised to give Zelda some time off before they made the trip to the three springs, Link wasn’t about to waste his time in the city sitting at a bar like he usually did. With so much at stake, he couldn’t fail. For Hyrule. For Zelda. More than ever, he wanted to keep her safe, and not just because it was his job. He was too involved now for any of it to be just a job. Whether he liked it or not - whether he hated his father for dragging him into this or not - he was involved, and he wouldn’t rest until the Yiga Clan and Ganon were defeated.

So Link spent most of his time at the range, doing his best to polish his skills. But his mind continued to wander, and it soon became less about bettering himself and more about simply wanting to take his frustrations out on a couple of targets. And in those few days, he blew through more ammunition than he ever had during his training.

Link was in the middle of switching out targets when Zelda entered the range. He was alone, doodling absentmindedly on his next target, drawing a face and a mustache on the silhouette.

“Is that supposed to be Dorian?” Zelda said over his shoulder.

Link had heard her come in, but he still jumped slightly. He shrugged as he hung up the target, then rolled it out to the far end of the range. “Could be,” he said. He pushed more bullets into the magazine, then shoved it into the gun.

Zelda stepped back as he brought the gun up and she covered her ears with her muffs.

Link fired the gun until he wasted all the ammo, then slid the empty magazine out once more.

“Is twenty-six the number of people you’ve killed?” Zelda dared to ask.

Link shoved more bullets into the magazine. “Yes,” he answered simply.

Zelda waited, watching as he proceeded to fire off another round at the target at the far end of the range.

“How do you do it?”

Link let the empty magazine fall into his hands and he loaded it up once more. “Do what?”

“Kill people. Isn’t it… hard?”

“Not anymore.” Link replaced the magazine. “They train us to be emotionless robots.”

“I don’t think that’s funny.”

“I never said it was.” He fired off another round. “But it’s the only way to be able to do the job.” The magazine slid out. “When it becomes life and death, you figure out pretty quickly that you do what you have to do to survive, and nothing else matters.” He slid another round back into the gun, then turned and offered it to Zelda. She stared blankly at the weapon.

“Try it.”

“Why? So you can turn me into a killing machine?”

Link smiled crookedly. “Doesn’t hurt to get a feel for it. You never know when you’ll need it.”

“Isn’t that what I have you for?”

Link shrugged. “For now.”

Zelda took the gun carefully and stepped forward.

“Like this.” Link stood behind her and reached over her. He cupped his hands around hers, demonstrating how to hold it. “Look down here. See?” He pointed a finger towards the target. “Never hesitate,” he said. “And don’t look in their eyes.”

Zelda bit her bottom lip as she tried to focus - admittedly more difficult than she would have admitted with Link standing so close to her - but when Link took his hands away, hers began to shake. She forced her hands to steady, and when they did, she took aim and pulled the trigger.

The power behind the weapon surprised her, and the thrill of the moment made her laugh. She squinted to see where she had hit. There was a small hole to the far left of the target in the white space.

“Well,” Link said. “You wouldn’t kill anyone with that shot, but it was close.”

Zelda put the gun down carefully. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Because you’re not going anywhere.”

“You can’t count on that.”

“It’s your job,” Zelda said, meeting his gaze. “You have to finish it.”

“Then I’ll finish it.” Link turned back to the weapon and loaded it up once more.

“I know you hear this a lot,” Zelda started, “but you really do take after your father.”

Link let loose another round. “I’m starting to think that’s not a good thing,” he muttered.

“Why would you say that?”

Link let the empty magazine fall to the table. He let the gun rest beside it. “He used his own son,” he said through gritted teeth. He narrowed his gaze at the target down the range. “He knew everything. His only concern was grooming me to prepare me for this future. He knew exactly what he was doing. It was no accident that I just happen to follow his path and take his place when he died.”

“I don’t think that’s what he intended,” Zelda said softly.

“My whole life was meant for this and nothing more.”

Zelda hesitated, her gaze on the ground. “Would you have chosen a different path? If no one had pushed you onto this one. If no one had told you that this was what you were meant to do. Would you have done something differently?”

Link watched her closely as she spoke. It was clear that she was struggling with her own role forced upon her just as it was him. With the Master Sword in his possession, all that remained was awakening her own power. Link could see now that she was worried. She doubted herself.

“Would you have?” he asked her.

Zelda met his gaze. “There’s no other path for me,” Zelda said. “If none of this were happening, then I’d simply be expected to take over the throne and carry on the royal bloodline. But you. You’d be free to live the life you wanted.”

“I don’t think I’d want my life to be any different,” he said. “The path I was put on may have been forced upon me, but it’s not so bad if it means crossing with yours.”

“Well,” Zelda said, averting his gaze. “I guess we’re just where we’re meant to be, then.”

#breath of the resistance #chapter 10 #botr10 #loz #legend of zelda #botw #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic

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