#might chill him out a little to have someone patient to monologue too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

good-rwbyaus · 3 years

Note

Au blake opens up her own bookstore

Blake’s Book Trade - mod lilac -

// Bit of an experiment with this one. Going to try and make this more of an open AU and thus more receptive to influence by asks. So unlike other AUs I’ve written, this could end up making a lot of things out of order depending on the asks I get - or invalidate other pieces that are written in this AU. I don’t know. Never tried this before ahaha. Though if people prefer the general fic format where I do things with actual direction, feel free to comment.

As with the rest of my writings, here is the “nail” post. - lilac

1. End of One Dream

“Goodbye,” Blake whispered as she swung her blade at the train latch. She watched as Adam - her friend, her mentor - reached out quietly but stayed on the cart he was on; she already knew he would choose the mission over their friendship. He and the train vanished into the distance, much like her dreams of the future.

She was just tired of the fighting. After working with the White Fang for so long, she could say one thing for certain; the humans who hated them would continue to hate them, just as the Faunus who hated humans would continue to hate humans. All she did was perpetuate a cycle, a cycle she didn’t know how to stop.

Because Adam - and the current leader of the White Fang - might very well be right. Violence might really be the answer. Because no one cared about the Faunus plight until the violence happened - until the White Fang drove up the costs for mistreating Faunus, both physically and monetarily.

No. Going back to the White Fang was no longer an option for her. She can’t handle what the group has become - what she’d be expected to do.

Becoming a Huntress had no charm for her either, for Hunters and Huntresses didn’t just hunt Grimm. They hunted the enemies of Mankind and by extension the Kingdom, and it was very easy to declare someone an enemy.

So in the end, she had nothing. No cause to fight for. No direction to go.

...What was she going to do now?

-----

2. Under the Sun

Rain poured onto her as she wandered through the streets of Vale. She’d been in a daze since Forever Fall; one moment she’d been surrounded by trees and train tracks, and now she’s surrounded by buildings and vehicles. How she survived the forest in her insensate state she wasn’t quite certain.

Ring ring.

“Welcome to Tukson’s Book Trade, home to every book under the su- Blake,” said a familiar voice, “You came ba-”

She lifted her head in shock and saw a familiar face – Tukson – the handler she and Adam met before taking on the Forever Fall job. Her eyes glanced over at all the books and shelves around her. How she got back here, she didn’t know. Why she was here, she wasn’t sure either.

Before she could apologize and run out the door, she could feel a pair of gruff hands rest upon her shoulders and gently guide her to a seat behind the counter.

“I’ll be right back,” Tukson said as he disappeared behind a set of doors.

She watched him leave quietly, watching the double doors swing, before she turned around and took in the view beyond the store counter. The shelves and tables lined with tens of hundreds of books. The faint silhouettes of people walking amidst sheets of rain. The tiny bell on the door that had long stopped shaking after her passage. She could smell the dusky scent of old texts lingering about.

Her body relaxed for a moment before she tensed up again.

What was she doing here? She shouldn’t be here.

She should leav-

Everything went dark and then bright again, causing her to stiffen in shock. It took her a moment to realize that a thick, wooly blanket had been placed over her head and back, its comfortable warmth making her unconsciously wrap herself deeper into it. She didn’t realize how much the chill seeped into her bones until just now.

“Here you go,” Tukson said, handing over a small white, almost dainty teacup over, “Sorry if it tastes bad. It’s been a while since I made this.”

Almost automatically, Blake took a sip of the hot beverage. And she couldn’t help but immediately scrunch up her face. It was bitter, really bitter.

“Yeah, Ma always said I couldn’t make tea to save my life,” Tukson loudly guffawed, “It’s warm though. It’ll help stop you from getting a cold.”

She took another sip, and the warmth in her belly did make her feel a little bit better.

“Umm… thanks,” Blake choked out, a bit surprised as to how hoarse she sounded. Her hand brushed against her wet eyes. Had this been all just rain or had she been crying this whole time?

The older faunus nodded his head, quietly letting her regain her bearings. The silence did make her feel a bit better, even though she knew it was temporary. Tukson was after all one of the White Fang’s handlers in Vale - knew more things about its seedy underworld than the average Huntsman. The probing she would face was inevitable.

“I thought something had gone wrong,” Tukson said, finally breaking the silence, pulling a small stool by her side, “Adam poked his head in to tell me the mission was complete. And that you weren’t going to return. Then he just walked out without a word.”

“...I left,” she started.

“I quit. I just...”

Adam’s cold uncaring reply echoed in her head – to set the bomb charges despite people still being on the train.

Blake held the cup of tea in her hands, shaking, “I just can’t...”

“Can’t see yourself fighting the good fight anymore?” Tukson finished with a patient smile.

She lifted her head in surprise, lips open to ask the unspoken question.

“I used to live in Vacuo,” Tukson perched himself on the tiny stool he set for himself. “I fought and killed to protect my village back when the local Huntsman academy was still setting up shop.”

“It had been easy to tell myself I was doing the right thing when I was the only thing standing between the raiders and my friends and family,” he continued as he lifted his head in pride before lowering it again with a sigh. “But…”

“…I couldn’t really do that when I fought as part of the Fang,” he spoke softly, “all I could see was that I was robbing and terrorizing humans for the hope that some good would come out of it,” he shook his head, “It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Before I was the protector, but then I became the raider, the aggressor…”

He shook his head.

“ -So I finally told them I couldn’t fight anymore. Old battle injuries if I recall,” Tukson continued, “But they couldn’t just let me quit, since I knew too much about our operations. So I became one of the handlers at Vale instead.”

He glanced over at her and then at his store and then back at her. He grinned.

“You must love books very much.”

“Yeah. I do,” Blake said quietly, curling deeper into the warm blankets, “How can you tell?”

“When I realized what I’d become and wondered what I was going to do from then on, “ he looked up at the ceiling in remembrance, “I went back to Vacuo. Not back to my village, but just stayed in the endless desert, pitching up tents, hunting small game, surviving off cacti…”

He glanced over her and smiled.

“I suppose it’s because when you get lost it’s natural to search for someplace familiar.

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

3. My Answer

They both sat in comfortable silence. Tukson had replaced the blanket on her with another, somewhat apologetic that he didn’t have anything for her to actually dry off with. The teacup in her hands had long been sipped empty.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why a bookstore?” she asked, finally asking the question that she’s been wanting to ask.

Tukson chuckled.

“I guess the bookstore is my answer.”

Blake stared at him in confusion.

“Knowledge... makes you free,” Tukson explained, “It’s harder for people to chain you down when you know that’s not the way it should be. Every time a Faunus comes in and picks up a book – even if it’s as simple as a basic language primer - I know I’ve contributed to our plight.”

He lifted his head, back a bit straighter and smile proud.

“When I see a mother pick up a fairy tale whose lessons are of tolerance and acceptance, I know I’ve made the world a little better.”

“When I see a kid whose eyes are too tired - too old - for their age coming in and asking for a recommendation, I can give them something that shows that the world still has some light in it.”

“None of these things are world-changing on their own, but I can see the good I’m doing. And if I give it a hundred, a thousand, tens of thousands of times, I know that I’ve made Remnant a better place with means I could accept.

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

4. Message

Maybe she’d been charmed by that simple description of Tukson’s occupation because as soon as Tukson finished his passionate monologue, she immediately asked if he was hiring before realizing how absurd she sounded.

Tukson had been kind enough to bring her out of the rain and give her such available advice - not ratting her out to the White Fang was already a big enough favor - and now she was asking to be a further burden on him. But as she was stammering her apologies and thanks and goodbyes, the older man had good-naturedly accepted her request.

“You don’t have to go. I’ve been meaning to get an assistant to run this place actually. I want to go back to Vacuo to see Ma, tell her I’m doing okay so having someone keep an eye on the shop will make things easier.”

After realizing she somehow landed the job that was simultaneously not one she expected to have and the one of her dreams, she had profusely thanked him - told him she’ll meet him bright and early tomorrow morning to report for her job. Just had to quickly find lodging and proper clothes that didn’t make it look like she was going for a fight.

Before she could leave to do these things though, she heard her now employer speak out one more time.

“Before you go, Blake. Just...” Tukson paused before smiling, "your friend’s an idiot with more pride than sense, but he did try to protect you in his own way. At least let him know you’re okay.”

---

That was why she’s now in this cheap studio, mulling over a message she’s read forty, probably fifty, times over. She’d been in the wrong, abandoning her partner - her mentor - behind on the message. The White Fang were a band of brothers and sisters in the end, and she effectively spat on that in her moment of pique.

Maybe Adam didn’t want anything to do with her now.

But Tukson was right.

She should at least let him know that she was okay. That she was sorry. What he’ll do after that, whether it be ignoring her or telling her off, would be up to him.

Nervously, her finger hovered off the send button.

She closed her eyes and pressed down.

Adam. I’m sorry. For not being able to go on. For leaving you behind. In hindsight, I was the one being dramatic. But I just don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I can’t continue on fighting this fight, knowing that I’m taking lives in the name of peace. So I decided not to be part of the White Fang nor become a Huntress. I’ll just find my own way.

I know you hate humans. You showed me part of that reason, so I don’t have the right to tell you what you can’t or shouldn’t do. But I’m afraid for you, Adam. I know all this fighting and bloodshed isn’t you. This isn’t the guy who mentored an idiot kid in the way of the blade all those years ago or patiently listened (with maybe some eyerolling) when she read her stupid fantasy books at you. You’ve always looked out for me, for everyone in the White Fang. You’ve always protected us. You’re a hero, and I don’t want to see you turn the villain.

If you ever need to talk, you can reach me on this scroll. I’ll always care about you.

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

She never received an answer back.

#gorillageek27 #rwby #rwby fic #rwby au #blake belladonna #blake's book trade #adam taurus #tukson #mod lilac #also no there is no adam ship sorry #don't even know if adam is redeemable at this point but hey au

31 notes · View notes

sunshinesholland · 4 years

Text

dog days | t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: 1.77k

Summary: Being a dog mom is tough. Having a busy schedule and feeling mom guilt is even tougher. So who are you to say no when your dog just wants to spend some time playing at the park, even if it is pouring down rain. It’s what dog parents do. Or at least just you?

A/N: So I have a half pitbull named Mia Bella and I think Tessa is absolutely cute and they’d make sweet friends and... this was self indulgence and it’s finest and I’m not even sorry about it.

It’s a little ridiculous, you suppose, while it’s managed to go from a light drizzle of rain to a torrential downpour and everyone else has completely left the park, you’re still out. Determined to get your pup the playtime she deserves, having felt guilty going into work on a Saturday morning. Most people are likely indoors right now, snuggled up with a warm cup of tea, watching their favorite series on Netflix. Meanwhile are absolutely chilled to the bone, but with your dog smiling up at you, tail wagging and tennis ball in mouth, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Well, maybe you would. An umbrella would be nice. You at least have an anorak on, and a cap to protect you from the onslaught of rain.

But your dog Bella comes back, scampering with glee and the biggest smile on her face. She drops the ball in the mud, proudly staring up at you. As a Staffordshire terrier, she’s unbelievably expressive. Her big doe eyes begging you to throw the ball and her cheeks widened in what can only be described as a grin. No other family dog you’d had as a child was ever as expressive as your own. She’s your furry best friend, and you had a million pictures on your phone to prove it. Dog mom stereotype completely fulfilled. And yeah, your trainers are soaked, and your jeans are clinging to your skin, but your baby is happy.

You smile and reach down to scratch behind her ears, before grabbing the ball lying in front of your feet. Before you can even lift your arm to throw, she’s off and running, trying to be ahead of the game and beat the ball before it gets where it’s going. You smile, because she always does this, and throw it anyways. You wait a few minutes, expecting her to come racing back as usual. But it’s a heavy downpour and your view is obstructed further by your position at the bottom of a slight incline and the presence of trees and now you’re panicking.

“Bella?! Bell!” You’re yelling, and running now, feet sloshing against the mix of mud and slick grass.

If you weren’t already cold, the breeze from your pace is hitting your already soaked clothes makes you feel even colder. But all you can think of is your dog. She’s such a sweet girl, extremely smart and friendly but she’s a pitty and the sad truth is people aren’t very kind or trusting of bully breeds.

And you hear her bark and you’re immediately fearful, is she barking because she’s scared? Is she barking because she’s lost? Is someone hurting her? And you reach the clearing of the park, away from the trees and you see her under the park’s gazebo. She’s sat next to one of the benches, with another dog and what you can only assume is its owner.

“Oh thank god, Bella. You scared me so much!” You’re out of breath and you sound like a frightened mother. Because you are.

She comes ambling to you, completely unaware of how scared she’s made you. She’s just happy she’s made a new friend and she’s got a fun sprint in. You kneel down and attach her leash to her collar, squeezing her face in your hands and ruffling her fur. You can’t be mad at her, she’s wagging her tail and she’s safe and happy and oblivious.

“I honestly didn’t think anyone else would be crazy enough to be out here,” the stranger’s voice raised to speak over the rain, flashing a cheeky grin.

The rain is relentless against the metal roof of the structure, but it’s somehow still calming and beautiful, the sound of rain thumping against the metal. A stark contrast to being fully immersed in the pouring rain in combination with the pounding of blood in your ears, as you just were.

The rain has soaked his hair, curls falling against his forehead. He’s wearing a black zip up, and a pair of joggers. He’s managed to look cozy, warm, and attractive, and he really has no business looking this good, especially while being caught in a rainstorm. You imagine you look like a drowned rat, baseball cap doing nothing to hide the mess of soaked hair flowing from under it. Your cheeks most likely flushed from the cold and the frantic dash across the park. You brush your hair that’s fallen in your face away, clearing your throat.

“I, uh, had work this morning. And I’m a graduate student and weekends are the most time we get together without me having my nose in a textbook and I felt guilty and- you didn’t ask for my life story, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, averting your eyes from this unbelievably handsome, rain-soaked stranger, looking down at Bella.

She’s not smiling at you like she was a moment ago, instead she blinks at you before yawning. Ah, what a show of compassion. She’s bored now, she’s had her fun and you’re boring her with your need for emotional support, you think.

“It’s quite alright, I suppose I did call you crazy. You felt the need to explain yourself, even if it does somewhat confirming the initial judgement,” and you’re realizing he has an English accent, and you look up to see a softer smile on his features, eyes crinkling at the corners, effectively softening the harsh assessment, albeit joking.

And you can’t help but wonder how English rainstorms are, and if that’s why he’s fine being out in this weather. And why he’s here, in the states? And also, who gave him the right to be so charming? And why did Bella come to him? She usually isn’t very comfortable around men (although a sweet dog, she is constantly in protector mode as you’re a single girl and it’s just you two in the apartment in a busy city).

And furthermore, he’s fine with a pitbull coming up to him? Okay well, she is very very cute, and very sweet, you think, completely unbiased. Not at all thinking this because you’re her owner and proud dog mom. Not biased at all.

“Well I guess since you told me all of that, I can tell you why we’re crazy enough to be out,” he jokes, sitting down at the bench, reaching down to pet his dog.

You had been so caught up in the relief of finding your pup, of the cute stranger his lovely accent and the tap, tap, tap of the rain against the roof that you hadn’t even noticed the lovely dog sitting patiently at his side. Your heart swelled upon recognition of the boxy terrier snout, familiar doe eyes and pointy little ears. Seeing another dog of the same breed group made you unbelievably happy. While you loved all dogs, you had a soft spot for the far too misunderstood, gentle terriers of this breed group.

“Me and Tess were just getting our afternoon jog in when the rain started,” he continues, smiling down at his pup and then looking back at you, effectively bringing you out of your internal dog-loving monologue.

“I actually also had work today, but my girl is important to me and I needed to make time for her,” he explains, “So we’re both crazy dog parents, if we’re willing to risk hypothermia for them, I suppose,” he grins.

You can just feel how soft your eyes must be looking at him. You kneel down, Bella is at your side, sniffing at Tess, trying to get closer.

You look up at him, chocolate brown eyes meeting yours and ironically, it’s hard to not melt, “Would it be okay to pet her?”

You ask, trying to be respectful despite her tail wagging a mile a minute, and her already leaning against you to be pet.

“I don’t think either of us get a choice, darling” he laughs, eyes crinkling and head slightly tilting back at his dog’s antics.

The sound echos in the acoustics of the gazebo, and it blends beautifully with the rain calming down, now more lightly tapping against the roof. The rain is dripping down the roof edge, against the cement. You feel warm, despite being being drenched from head to toe. You stop your petting (to Tess’s dismay), and stand up.

“Would it be alright if they went and played? Since both of their activities got cut short?” You question, smiling back in what you hope is at least half as an appealing manner as his laugh.

He grins at you, reaching to unleash Tess, as you do the same with Bella, before he stands up beside you. The dogs are immediately off, running circles around the structure. The rain has let up enough that Bella is fully in your view, allowing you to relax and chat with the unnamed curly-haired boy.

“I’m sorry, I know your dog’s name, but I didn’t catch yours,” you turn away from the dogs to look at him and he’s smiling watching the dogs run.

You think he may not have heard you but he turns to you and you’re blindsided by the dazzling smile being directed at you.

“Tom, my name’s Tom,” he replies, outstretching a hand for you to shake.

You’re laughing at his formal nature, but shake his hand nonetheless.

“Well Tom, if you’re also a single dog parent, I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you,” you grin, feeling giddy for some stupid reason. It’s his sunny disposition, and his cute face, you bet.

“I drink tea… But I suppose I could make an exception for your cute dog,” he grins, bumping your shoulder playfully,

“Yeah, going for coffee, it’s for the dogs. Like when parents have to be friends because their kids are. They like each other, and who are we to stand in the way of friendship?” You add, looking out at the park space they’re running in. In your head you’re playing it cool, but in Tom’s eyes, you’ve got a slight grin but you’re beaming, absolutely glowing even in the gloom of the rainy afternoon.

“Yeah, exactly. We might have to meet up again soon too. I mean, think of the children,” he says in reply, nodding his head, looking out as well, trying to match your attempt at a collected demeanor.

And both of you are watching the two chase each other, barking happily. All while you and Tom are grinning from ear to ear. And you’re grateful that you’re not the only dog parent crazy enough to come out in a downpour, and you remind yourself that when you get home, you’ve really gotta give Bella a treat for running off like she did.

#listen #I just want a meet cute w me and Tom and our dogs 🥺#this the dream babey #also about the title? im so sorry i couldn’t think of anything creative it’s midnight lmao #emi writes #Tom holland #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland writing #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fanfiction #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x y/n

264 notes · View notes

bangtansfavwriter · 4 years

Text

🌷jimin having a crush on you🌷

(with a hint of smut & angst, still v fluffy 😌)

- a complete flirt or a complete shy bean, there's no in-between

- introduces you to his friends, his family, the staff, the ahjussi at the convenience store....

-will touch you a lot, so expect koala hugs on any given occasion

-you will stare at his lips a lot, unconsciously, which you'll notice when jimin looks like ar u like this : 👀🤭

-very very caring, the type to sprint across the city to be with you when something's wrong with you

- you guys would talk in person, on the phone, over text... actually a clingy one and he doesn't even hide it

-showers you with affection

- "you're so lovely, lovely, lovelyyy~"

- ur entire support system and personal hype man

- you know that will smith meme with his wife? that's jimin with you basically

- you two are completely emo when he has to leave for tour, but thank god there's skype

-gets emo again when you have to hang up

("good night, good night! parting is such a sweet sorrow." - "jimin, did you... did you just quote shakespeare on me?? minie, we're gonna talk tomorrow, don't be sad!"- "😔😔😔😔😔😔😔" - "nooo minie😭😭😭😭😭" - "noooooo im happy, look ☺️☺️☺️☺️" - "ok good 💞" - "........(😔)"- PARK JIMIN" - "👼🏻")

- stalks all your social media when he's on tour but will never tell you, accidentally like your pic from like 42 weeks ago and screamed so loud hobi fell out of his bed

-you sent him a screenshot of the notification you got with a single "?" and jimin welcomed the sweet release of death (he left you on read and prayed you would forget about it)

-stops by at your place when he's back in the country and gives you a hug so tight it lowkey feels like u guys made out, FLIRTS and you're like "what are we?" and he's "what do you mean? :))) we're friends ofc :))))))" [libras.]

-also, he often invites you to dance practices and is extra flamboyant meanwhile

- "y/n, have you seen the flip? it was good right?" ( boy's got a big fat praise kink tbh)

"you looked so cool, minie ~'

*gets shy, hides his face, jumps through the room*

(& you'd ask yourself if this the same guy who stripped at MAMA)

- his duality is no joke, even in your guys' relationship it would be confusing as hell sometimes, yet exciting because he shows you different sides : childlike and carefree / serious and seductive

- lots of cuddles and giggles together

- goes above and beyond to make you happy and ready to cut a bitch when you're upset

- could charm your pants off, hypothetically speaking, but he's also shyyy mostly bc he's scared you might not like him the same way

-at the dorms he would get into this mood where he would do dramatic monologues about his feelings which would put shakespeare to shame tbh

-they almost always end up with him imagining that you might go for someone else

-one day the boys would encourage him to go for it and he'd muster up the courage and be like "fuck yeah im gonna confess" and then loses courage when yoongi said "do it before someone else does it" and everyone would be screaming bc they just got jimin to shut up about you and were about to end the daily tortured hero vibe jimin had lately by tricking him into confessing (& jimin spent days giving yoongi a look that straight up said "et tu, brute?")

-jimin spent the days after that contemplating if you would actually date him or if you would go for someone else

-he'd be all pouty and would also be touchier than usual, bc he would this physical contact as some sort of reassurance, in a way

-you couldn't quite understand what was going on with him but you reciprocated in every scenario and he was very pleased with that

-when you guys would chill on a sofa and watch tv, he'd lay down and rest his head on your lap and wouldn't say anything and continue watching TV, but he'd still wait for your reaction and sigh happily when you started playing with his hair

-he'd do these little tests to gauge your reactions and to see how you act towards him

-he'd ask a lot about how you feel about relationships and respect and all that, he'd also test you... physically. and by that I mean the sensual hugs, light touches on your thigh and and the looks you'd share meanwhile... the first time you two had dinner with the guys in a restaurant with dim lights. when you felt his hand on your thigh, you looked at him with a raised brow and this lil shit deadass SMIRKED at you but you knew that 2 can play this game and smirked back and moved his hand slightly up and jimin's soul almost left his body. "what are we, y/n?" he whispered to you. "you tell me", you whispered back, with a cunning smile on your lips. you excused yourself and got up from the table and jimin jerked that moment, as you put your hand on his thigh when you lifted yourself up. (jk to nj: i don't know what is going on there but I bet it's disgusting, nj: no, don't be like that, sj: no, he's right)

-jimin and you (and everyone else, for that matter) entered a weird stage where you legit didn't know wtf was happening between you

-everything moved fast and yet you didnt know if you guys were going somewhere with this but jimin sure acted like your boyfriend yet didn't go beyond flirting

-and this was getting tiresome for you, but you were still hoping tbh, but you thought that maybe... maybe you were just a welcome distraction for him in all his hectic schedule. but deep down you knew this was your insecurities speaking, but sometimes it got the better of you.

-and things took an ugly turn when jimin tested you again, but in the most stupid way you could ever "test" someone... you've guessed it..... through jealousy.

- that was bc jimin himself got jealous when you were hanging out with yoongi, mostly bc he also remembered what yoongi once said about someone snatching you away from him

-and jimin absolutely hated this situation.... he knew this was irrational and that you could hang out with whomever you wanted & yoongi's obviously like a brother to him..... but jealousy is a very ugly feeling that makes you feel ugly things

-and jimin didn't want neither yoongi nor you to see this side of him so he didn't say anything. he didn't speak to neither of you. was it a good solution? hell no & he knew that. but he had to deal with his temper somehow... he cut you short whenever you tried to talk to him, saying he's busy and such, but you knew he was lying to you for some reason but you still were patient and did your best not to drag him to hell and back for lying to and ignoring you, as he stopped texting you as well. he didnt speak more than necessary with yoongi who only kept his mouth shut bc they was another matter involved. jimin had the idea for this "last test" for you when a new staff member got flirty with him, during a bighit party. you were there, too, in the same room, to be precise and jimin knew this and saw a chance coming, as you were talking to yoongi again who glared back at jimin who intensely kept staring at you two. so this new + drunk staff member came along and started talking with him.... and giggling so obnoxiously that yoongi and you rolled with your eyes at the same time and started laughing when you realized it. jimin wasn't listening to anything in the first place but when he saw you two laughing, he had a snap decision, turned to the staff member and coyly smiled and started flirting. you watched the whole play & jimin knew it, so he added some light touches and nudges here and there and you could feel getting more upset with every minute of this shit-show you were witnessing. yoongi put his hand on your arm and turned you away from jimin and his bimbo and face him instead. you could feel your blood rush to your head which was also apparent to yoongi who consoled you, as he knew of your feelings. jimin mistook the whole situation once again and went for the worst move.

you saw yoongi's glare and turned around only to see jimin holding his little plaything by the waist and them swaying around together. the other members noticed too and namjoon took the lead and quickly moved jimin away from dispatch's newest headline in the making. you turned to yoongi again and said "i'm going home, yoongi, thank you", with a sad smile on your face, and left before he could answer. yoongi quickly rushed out after you, knowing damn well that you'd go home and cry. he managed to catch up and pulled you into a hug, away from all the noise. "that boy is an idiot, but he's so in love with you, trust me on that. he's just being stupid right now", he said patted your back and lowkey contemplating dissing jimin in agust d 2, when he heard the muffled sniffs coming from you. "Ohhh, yoongi-hyung, y/n, getting cozy, aren't we?" you heard jimin saying behind you. yoongi was about to yell at him, but you were quicker to turn around and BLASTED him, bc how tf does he dare to say something like this after what he just pulled inside and how tf can he be so rude to yoongi and most importantly why tf would you listen to him after blatantly ignored you over the past weeks??? jimin went silent after your rant and let his head sink. "i'm sorry..." he said, "i'm sorry to both of you. i don't know how to explain it... but i felt angry when I saw you two so close. i know it's stupid and I know that you guys can be friends, obviously... it's so irrational and I don't even know why i did that earlier. i guess I wanted you to feel what I feel when I see you close with another man, y/n...". this voice got hoarse the more spoke and you knew that he too was about to cry. you knew he was regretful. it didn't justify that he was a dick to you, but you could see where he was coming from and understood that this feeling can make you do irrational things. "jealousy," yoongi said with a stern voice "is a really ugly trait, jimin. you should have known neither of us would ever go behind your back. for your information, y/n confided in me. your best friend is in love with you and you, dumbass, are too blind to see it. -(jimin's head shot up)- I'm gonna leave you two to it now, but jimin, I assure you I will kick your ass if you hurt y/n one more time." and he left. jimin looked at you apologetically, then hid his face behind his hands and took a deep sigh. "I really am a dumbass, huh..." - "yeah, you are" you replied with slight smile on your face and you took some steps towards him, he looked up at you. "y/n, I might be dumb and selfish, but I really hope that you can forgive me... one day. I was jealous of you two and I got insecure. I shouldn't have done what I've done and I can only apologise.... i'm really sorry about everything." (he let his head sink)

you were now standing right in front of him. "jimin, look at me." (he did.) "you really are a dumbass" (he got pouty) - "I thought we had already established that, y/n" - "getting smart with me, minie?" you asked and laughed when he looked at you with with huge eyes and a beaming face after he heard his pet name. he shook his head "I'm the dumbass, remember ?". You two laughed and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek while he buried his head in your neck.

"be my dumbass, minie."

💕

epilogue:

yoongi: "so how did you solve it again?"

you: "i called him dumb like 3 times and now we're dating"

yoongi: "nice"

jimin: "..."

162 notes · View notes

sg-fuzzy-bear26 · 4 years

Text

In My Dreams

Chapter One

Clarke

The first thing Clark notices about her cell was how cold it is. Yes, of course the Ark is constantly cold, but her cell has a particular that chill isn’t the same as compared to the rest. She feels shivers travel down her spine and rubs her arms, trying to regain some warmth.

“This will be your cell Prisoner 319, until you turn 18 and your case is reviewed by the council. Until that time, you will have meals delivered here. Breakfast will be delivered at seven, lunch at twelve, and the final meal at seven pm. You will be allowed out to…” Clarke doesn’t really bother listening to what the guard is saying. He looks vaguely familiar; where has she seen him? With her mother, yes. His daughter was one of her mother’s patients, a sickly 7 year old girl. She remembers brown mischievous eyes, a small smile. Claire? No. Cara Harlow. The guards name is Gerald Harlow.

Once Gerald finishes his monologue, he turns to the side and comes back with some blankets folded in his hands. He looks to his left before stepping into the cell, a small smile (not unlike Cara’s) on his face.

“Hey Clarke. Sorry about long speech; Shumway was watching.” He hands the blankets over to Clarke, and they feel heavier (and lumpier) that the usual standard-issue Ark blankets. She unfolds the one on top and a white piece of chalk falls out. Harlow’s smile grows a bit more.

“Clarke, you’re a good person, so is your mother. I really hope you make it out of here once you hit 18… ” yet even as he says it, Clarke knows it’s not true. Yes, her mother might be a council member, and that on its own is more than many would hope for, but, if she’s realistic, she knows that won’t happen. Now more than ever, she knows her 18th birthday means her death.

“Thank you Mr Harlow. I hope so too…” she lies to him. If only he knew, by her 18th birthday, they might all be dead…

_____

She Knows

-J.Cole ft. Amber Coffman Cults

Clarke

And so her life in juvenile lock-up (or The Skybox) began. It was pretty much constant most of the time. Her days fell into a pattern; she would wake up at 6:45, eat at 7, 7:30 she’d go to the bathroom for her daily ablutions, and then back to her cell. Food arrived at 12 on the dot, plates cleared out thirty minutes later, and then her last meal at 7, bathroom at 7:45, and the official lights-out at 9.

But for those long hours in-between, she had nothing to do (oh, the joys of solitary confinement). Well, at least that’s what they thought. Guardsman Harlow would bring her books and chalk and any other little things to keep herself busy, and every few days he would take the books back and bring new ones. But Clarke never read them. All she did was draw. All day and sometimes -when her dreams were worse than her reality- all night. She wished she had her sketch book and a few of her short, worn pencils. But of course, she couldn’t be given anything that she could use to harm herself (like short, very blunt pencils). She wanted to at least ask for coal, but she knew that was a scarce resource, expensive and difficult to acquire.

So she settled for her chalk and the walls of her cell. She drew anything she could think of; of pictures of pyramids she’d seen, of scorpions, of flowers and trees and earth. The ultimate dream. God, she just wished to see it once, to smell real air and swim and float in still water. She dreamed of the feel of a meadow of wildflowers between her fingertips, and seeing a sunset from Earth. To see the delicate contours of a dandelion as it blew in the wind. To hear the rushing gushes of seawater bashing on a shore, and smell the salty tang of the water. To feel simple rain touching her face.

But wish as she might, she never would see it. In a matter of months, she, and probably everyone she knew, would be dead. Honestly, she was surprised that she (and the Ark) had made it this long. But unfortunately, she knows that it’s only a matter of time before both became a memory with no one left to remember.

_____

Maybe We Can Be Each Other’s Company

-Justin Bieber

Bellamy

In all honesty, Bellamy didn’t want to be a guard. He would much rather spend his days in his room with Octavia, reading her stories of Ancient Empires, forgotten princes and magical myths. But being a guard was one of few better paying jobs on the Ark, and much as Bellamy aced Earth History, other subjects were not so good, making his options limited. He wished to read all day, but knew that reading alone wouldn’t help support his family, and his mother had done things he most likely didn’t want to know about in order to get him that recommendation, so he wasn’t about to waste all that sacrifice.

He made his way to his post, thinking about everything yet nothing in particular. He almost walked into Shumway, the man too absorbed in his conversation to see Bellamy, and backed out of the way just in time, murmuring an apology.

“Watch it, Blake,” (yet he was the one in the wrong), “but now that I’ve found you, there’s been a change; you’ve been moved from the mess hall, and your new post is in the Skybox, solitary.” Bellamy nearly groaned out loud, but stopped himself; no need to get on Shumway’s bad side (even if he was a dick that deserved to be floated more than half the kids in lock-up).

“Yes sir.”

“Your shift starts in 10. You better hurry Blake, I don’t like slackers….” Shumway started laughing and walked in the opposite direction. Bellamy looked at the time, and knew that, if he ran like a mad man through the Ark, he could make it to lock-up without staining his record and giving Shumway any reason to fire him. As he raced through Mecha Station and passing Alpha, he wanted to personally push the button that floated Shumway.

In the end he made in less than 8 minutes, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before logging in that he was at his post. What he was to guard in solitary was beyond him? Solitary wasn’t that big compared to the other section, just 25 to 30 small cells with a bed and a small sink, one communal bathroom that was rarely used since very few people(no, teenagers) ever ended up being arrested for something so big that it would warrant solitary confinement. But whatever it was, someone must be here for them to apply a guard detail to the section. Bellamy actually felt sorry for the sucker; even when they turned 18, they wouldn’t be even be actually ‘reviewed’, just floated.

As Bellamy passed another empty cell, he wondered what that person had done. Maybe some boy or girl saw or heard something they weren’t supposed to, and now the council needed to keep them quite, hence solitary. That’s the only logical explanation; if they had stolen something or assaulted an officer, they would be in the common area with the rest of the delinquents. Well, there was another explanation; maybe the criminal was a violent offender, perhaps killed someone maybe? If that was the case, he wished to bust the poor bastard out just so they could kill Shumway for him and may-

Words froze in Bellamy’s mind as he finally found the one occupant of solitary confinement, and he would be lying if it was what he had expected. First of all, ‘it’ was a she, and, secondly, from what Bellamy could she, she was beautiful. She was standing on her tiptoes, left hand stretching out, holding what seemed to be a piece of chalk, scratching and scaring the wall with swift strong strokes of white, her right hand was gently resting on the wall, giving her balance. As Bellamy’s eyes wondered further south, he felt the need to swallow. Her blonde tresses were tied into a braid going down her back. The long sleeve knit shirt she was wearing clung to her body, perhaps being a size too small, but it did wonders for her curves. The pants she wore were long, dull and frayed at the edges as all clothes on the Ark were, and it emphasized her thighs and ass and dammit, Bellamy was tempted. He must have made a sound, because the artist paused a little before carrying on with her work. A dandelion?

“Gerald, you’re late…” her voice sounded somehow familiar, not light and sweet, but something with warmth and essence. Bellamy swore he could hear her smile. He hadn’t seen her face, but he really wanted to right now, “but I understand, your daughter comes first. How is…” she trailed off when she finally turned around and found Bellamy standing there, arms slacked at the side, mouth open “…Cara.”

Bellamy’s brain short-circuited like everything on the Ark these days. What? He knew those blue eyes and red lips with a beauty spot above them. What was her name?

“Griffin?” he said when he remembered her surname.

“You’re not Ger… Guardsman Harlow” she stammered out, a bit in shock herself.

“And you’re here? You? Alpha Station Princess, Dr Abby Griffin’s apprentice and daughter, in LOCKUP? Daughter of a council member, in SOLITARY?” Bellamy was confused as hell, in complete awe as to how the Perfect Princess of the Ark had landed herself in lockup.

“And you are?” she asked, a little more annoyance in her voice. What was her name?

“You’re…Kate…Claire, no, something like a guy’s name... K….K...CLARKE! CLARKE GRIFFIN!” Bellamy finally exclaimed when he got her name.

“You through?” Clarke asked, folding her arms and eyeing him bitterly.

“Oh wow. Okay, Blake, Guardsman Blake…” but Bellamy could barely believe it. How did this happen? “Okay, Princess, I have to know; what did you do?”

“You’re gonna keep calling me princess?” Clarke’s expression didn’t change, and Bellamy couldn’t help the smirk on his face.

“You bet, Princess…” he said with a wink in her direction. She just rolled her and turned back to her drawing.

His smirk got a little wider. “Well, whatever you did, it got you in here, so, damn, you’re a brave princess…” he said with more admiration than he wanted in his voice. Clarke paused; her one hand poised over her dandelion in the wind, and turned her head to look at him.

“Guardsman Blake, are you condoning such behaviour that puts a person with her whole life ahead of her in solitary?” she asked slyly, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her own smirk covering her face.

“Why, Princess, I would never…” he said, placing his hand over his heart, deadpan.

Clarke rolled her eyes and returned to her work, and Bellamy carried on walking down the short hallway, humming to himself. Hey, maybe Shumway shouldn’t die just yet…

_____

Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright

-Bob Marley (not Morley)

Clarke

Just like that, they fell into a calm routine of constant bickering and arguing and generally not getting along. She had discovered some facts about him in the weeks they had spent together, all alone, the only two people in solitary: his name was Bellamy, he was from Mecha Station and his mother’s name was Aurora Blake. She would have told him just as much, but well, being the ‘Princess’ and all, he already knew.

On one particular Thursday day, he didn’t come in for his shift as normal; instead, she got the kind face of Gerald Harlow. Not that she was disappointed, no, that would signify some sort of emotional attachment to Bellamy Blake, and for her, there was none. It was just that…well; she didn’t not want to see Gerald, but well, just…

She carried on with her routine, thankful for the replenishment of her chalk supplies and went through her day. On one of the spots on her wall, she found herself drawing a chess set. She didn’t mean to, but her hand just seemed to move by its own accord, her stokes getting heavier for the white pieces, and lighter for the dark. After a few hours, she stood back and looked at her work; a chess board, on the sides littered with knights and castles, and one hand, mid-air, moving a dark knight for the winning move.

She could almost hear Wells’ voice saying ‘check mate…’ with his easy smile. God, Wells Jaha, her best friend. Almost every memory in her entire life held Wells Jaha in some way. She remembered him when she was just a toddler, chasing him around with a chess piece in her hand. She remembered when she was 7 and his father, Thelonious, had taught them to play. She remembered when she was 9, and she finally beat him, her first ever victory in chess. When she was 11 and had a crush on some stupid guy named Caspian Adams and confided in only Wells. And how he was there for her when Caspian broke her heart (well, not broke necessarily, but she was 11, what did she know?). The football games and lunches together and every other little thing in-between. Which is why his betrayal cut her so deeply.

She’s suddenly in the mess hall again, whispering to Wells about the secret that could literally destroy their lives. Oh, how much trust she had in him back then. And then he gotten her father floated. Her hand reached for the frozen watch on her left wrist, clutching it close. The last thing she had of her fathers. Clarke felt tears welling up in her eyes. Still, she could see her father, his face fading from light as the vacuum of space stole his life. Her heart broke all over again. Damn you Wells, Clarke though bitterly. But he was gone because of her, because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, because she placed her trust in the wrong person.

Clarke found herself leaning on the bed, tears sliding down her cheeks. His death would be pointless anyway, because in a matter of months, everyone will realize what he was trying to bring to light. But by then it will be too late, and no one will be left to vindicate his actions, to somehow undo his death. She hated this, living with this secret, feeling like there was a ticking bomb only she (save a few others) knew existed. Watching people go on with their lives, planning for the future, knowing that in roughly a year, there would be no lives left. The end of the human race. Millions of years of evolution, of trial and error, of innumerable deaths, had led to this; the last of the humans, living in a piece of metal that was dying, looking down onto an Earth that they would never reach again. So close, yet so far away. Yeah, the universe had a twisted sense of humour.

_____

Clarke

At nine exactly lights out hit, and she crawled into her bed. Even with two blankets, the unnatural chillness of the room engulfed her, feeling like it sank into her bones. But she was tired, tired than she usually was. Thinking about Wells Jaha and Jake Griffin took its toll on her. She suddenly remembered her father’s smiling face as if he was right before her, his warm hands and soft words…

The thoughts lingered on in her fatigued mind, and soon enough, she found herself falling into a dream, smiling, unaware that it would later become a nightmare…

_____

Bellamy

A yawn escaped Bellamy’s mouth as he walked into solitary. Today, he had been reassigned back into solitary, but a night shift this time. He walked the hall, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls, and stopped by Clarke’s door. Through the glass, he could see her there, sleeping peacefully, and eyes glued shut, her lashes forming shadows on her cheeks. He saw the calm rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, and her light pink lips slightly parted, her beauty spot bright against her light skin

Bellamy knew Clarke was beautiful, objectively speaking. Half the guys on the Ark wanted her, but Bellamy had never heard that she was interested in any of them, always off in the med bay helping her mother or with her books studying. The closest thing she had to a relationship (that he was aware of) was with the chancellor’s son, Wells Jaha. But on the few occasions he’d seen them in the mess hall, they seemed like friends. Well, he was sure for Clarke it seemed that way. Wells always looked at her…differently. A sad and common case of unrequited love. None-the-less Clarke was beautiful (objectively speaking, of course).

Bellamy considered walking around the cell block, but it wasn’t like there were other people he was rushing to check on, just Clarke. So he decided to stand there and watch her for a few moments, and then he would walk around stretch his legs. Yeah, just a few moments…

He didn’t know how long he stood there, just looking at her, taking in every curve and line and inch of her body that he could see, feeling like he had her memorised by heart, greedily taking what little she was giving. He just stood there and looked at this girl, who he simultaneously hated and missed in equal passion. Damn you Clarke Griffin. He really should move and stretch. He could bet that if Princess woke up and found him staring, she would have some quick witted response that would provoke a reaction out of him. Yeah, that seemed about right…

He turned, his neck cracking in protest, the only giveaway of the amount of time he spent there. As he was massaging the knots there, moving to walk away, something caught his eye. It was Clarke. She moved, and not like she had been in the past –he looked down at the clock on the wall- hour?! Had he honestly been standing there and staring at her for an hour? He looked up again and saw her muscles twitch. He eyes suddenly squeezed tighter, and her faced morphed from one of peace to the face of a person in extreme pain. A bad dream, this was it was, nothing to worry about.

He was about halfway through trying to begin to convince himself that maybe he should leave when he heard her start screaming, “NO!NO!” she kept shouting over and over again, her hands flying around her like she was fighting some intangible force only seen to her.

Bellamy didn’t think, he just found his fingers going to his key card, scanning it on the machine, and feeling like it was a million years before it finally slid open. He rushed to her bed, ducking from her hands as her fingers curled around her demons, and held her close, trying to wake her.

“Clarke, wake up. CLARKE. CLARKE!!Wake up please!” he said, gently shaking her. At the third call, she finally woke her eyes wild as she tried to find the imaginary monster she was fighting. Her eyes finally locked onto his, and confusion overtook her face.

“Bellamy?” her voice was still a bit horse, but he heard the small break when she said his name.

“Hey, it’s okay…just a bad dream…” he said softly, pushing stray strands of her hair behind her ear as her breathing returned to normal.

“A dream…” she whispered, and then her eyes glossed over and seconds later, silent tears slid down her cheeks. Bellamy was at bit of a loss, not sure what to do. Instinct told him to comfort her, and he didn’t fight it, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her close as the sobs shook her body, whispering into her ears that it was okay, that she was fine again, that she was safe, hoping she believed it.

_____

Bellamy

He looked down at her sleeping figure, back to the calm state she was in before her dreams turned into nightmares. Her eyes were a bit puffer, and obviously more red than before, which was noticeably obvious on her pale skin, but at least she wasn’t crying like her heart was breaking anymore.

Try as he might to resist the urge, he finally gave up and pressed a kiss to her forehead, hoping that it was enough to keep the monsters at bay, and walked out of cell, forcing himself not to turn back and steal a glance at her.

He walked back to his cabin on auto-pilot, not noticing anything around him as he made his way through the Ark. Once he entered Mecha, his feet followed the familiar route, with him having to negotiate the ever present crowds of his station. He opened the door to the cabin that he shared with his mother and sister.

His sister, the one who, according to Ark records, didn’t exist. The Ark had a strict one-child policy, which was understandable: they lived on a spaceship floating in space, and without the ability to expand (or the resources for such an undertaking), population control was a priority. Octavia Blake was born when Bellamy himself was just seven years old. She was a child that shouldn’t exist, and yet she did, and there she was, 17 years later, and Bellamy couldn’t imagine his life without her. Yes, he had moments whereby he resented Aurora Blake for having Octavia, and thereby sentencing her to a life limited to the walls of their cabin and below the floor, where she would never be able to go out and drink awful moonshine and be late for curfew and live life like he never did.

Somehow, by Aurora having Octavia, Bellamy lost his life. He never did anything wrong or illegal that might cause the guard to pay attention to the Blake’s. He couldn’t risk going to the Skybox and leaving her mother alone to protect Octavia. ‘My sister, my responsibility’ was what he always said, was what he was told, and although it might have cost him some fun here and there, he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant he’d see her smile at him like he was her hero.

“Hy Bell…” Octavia said from the table in their cabin. She was sewing what looked like a guard uniform, and smiled up at him when he entered. There, right there, that was the reason he never regretted a single choice.

“How was solitary?” she asked, carrying on with her work while he made his way to the kitchen to get some water. How could he answer that? Well, the only person in there had one of the worst nightmares I’d ever seen, and I had to go in there and comfort her and spent the entire night holding her and looking at her sleep and hoping she didn’t have another because I couldn’t stand to see the pained look on her face…

“Long.” Was what he settled on. They spent a few minutes talking, mostly just Octavia telling him about the different things she had patched up and telling him that mom left early and wouldn’t be back until around lunch.

Before finally going to get some much needed rest, he kissed his sisters forehead (not unlike the way he kissed Clarke’s) and went to bed.

He dreamt of a woman with long golden hair, and blue eyes looking at him fearfully. What was going on? All of a sudden they’re at an airlock chamber, and the blond woman is on the other side, screaming, shouting and begging, “NO!!” She’s banging on the door, and Bellamy is suddenly there, banging against it too. There’s a countdown, a loud booming voice ‘Five. Four,’ Bellamy moves to the buttons and switches on the side of the door, pressing anything and everything, trying to open the doors. ‘Three. Two.’ He’s frozen; he can’t move anything, he can only watch helplessly and listen as the voice echoes ‘One’. The woman isn’t shouting anymore, she’s standing in the middle of the chamber, tears sliding down her face. He wants to scream and move and jump to pull her to his side, but he’s frozen still. The door behind her opens and she’s sucked into the darkness, and he can hear her voice saying his name, ‘Bellamy!’

He wakes up with a start, his heart racing. Octavia is standing over him with concerned eyes.

“Bellamy, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Bellamy can’t think for a moment. A dream? It was all a dream.

“I’m fine Octavia. I am, it was just a bad dream” he says, and without giving her a chance to say anything, turns around facing the wall. He can still feel her there, hovering behind him, before he hears her sigh and move away, going back to whatever she was doing.

He’s had that dream before. After a few close calls with Octavia nearly being discovered, he’s dreamt of her being in that chamber, watching helplessly as she was sucked out into the never-ending blackness of space. Every time, try as he might, he isn’t able to save her, and can only watch –just as he did- as her dark hair faded from light. His absolute worst fear.

How is it that this time, he dreamt of Clarke...?

#bellarke #fanfiction #ao3 #somesmutt #chapter1 #archive of our own #sg_fuzzy_bear #the100 #princess #bellamy x clarke

5 notes · View notes

crystalrequiem · 5 years

Text

The Voice that Urged Orpheus

[Part 4/8(?)] [TRC] Summary: Fai gets lost in thought and Kurogane asks him to share. Mistake. He has no idea what to do with all these feelings. Tags: Kuro/Fai, Canon Universe, Post-Canon, Warnings: suggestive thoughts (nothing graphic), depression, dealing with trauma, so much fluff, Is it still slow-burn if they’re already in a relationship? because that’s basically what this is.

[Part 1] ... [Part 3]... [Part 5]

Hello again! Warning this chapter for Fai’s head messing with him, I guess. To think, I thought I’d somehow get through this world in just two chapters.... >_> i figure if we’re lucky we’ve got 1-2 more in Chizeta. I LIVE for your comments and tags, ya’ll. Thanks so much for all the love!

Caldina had advised they might find lodging with the Academy if Fai didn’t mind hosting a few lectures. He couldn’t tell how Fai felt about the suggestion, but with currency uncertain and little else to go on, it certainly sounded like a good deal. Of course, Kurogane figured they might have trouble given no one in their group could read anything in the local language, and he had no idea what bargaining for living space might entail…. He needn’t have bothered.

The Academy nearly bends over backwards to host their group. The instant someone spots them meandering into the library, they start begging Fai to demonstrate his enchantment on the cloak and everything snowballs from there. Before he knows what’s what, Fai has some sort of visiting scholar position and they’ve been put up in academic housing. The administration kindly arranges for them to take two bedrooms and a central living area—a complete if compact apartment. Honestly, much, much nicer than Kurogane could have hoped when they landed in the desert this morning.

Thick earthen walls cut the heat and will likely insulate against the chill of night. Intricately detailed window screens invite a lattice of rosy light into the room while the sun finishes setting. Soft, pillowy seating spaces and ceilings peppered with tiny glowing baubles he assumes must be magic. No food or place for groceries, but the school keeps a communal eating area and they’ve already discovered that no one has any compunctions about sharing.

Their rag-tag traveling family trails in to their borrowed room, tired by a long day spent touring the grounds and staring at all manner of spell work. Kurogane locks the sturdy, elaborately carved door behind himself as he steps through, feeling surreal and off-balance.

“—and did you see what they were doing with the gravity manipulation? I didn’t completely understand how it works, but it looked like they were making something like the flying carts from piffle!” He has no idea what to do with all this magic, or why he should care, but Syaoran takes to the academy like a duck to water. For as many differences between them, the kid and his double both share the same love of learning… He chatters to everyone who will listen at a mile a minute. They’ve barely scratched the surface of the library and labs today, but ideas seem to fill his every thought.

Something twists painfully in in Kurogane’s chest to watch him so excited—this sort of place is where someone like Syaoran belongs, if he wants. Not an endless, thankless journey through dimensions. The fact that they can come here probably means a lot to the kid, but he wishes they could do more. He wishes the first Syaoran could have made it here to see it. He just—

Needs to stop thinking about it like this. They’re doing what they can. Maybe if they make enough memories here, Mokona can find a way to return someday.

Eventually, Syaoran has to pause his latest stream of thought to yawn, and Fai steps in and suggests they all get some early rest.

“We have even more to do tomorrow, and you have plenty of lectures to look forward to.” The Kid and pork-bun bend to the logic of Fai’s argument with no complaints, already bleary-eyed as they wander away to investigate their own room with a quiet chorus of “good night.” Kurogane watches after them and distantly wonders whether he should have checked the place for traps before letting anyone get comfortable. He’s going too soft.

“Sheesh.” Fai flops bonelessly onto what he can only assume is some sort of lounge, his cloak fluttering as he drops.

“You’re not overdoing it, showing off all those spells, are you?” He tries to cast his worry in the form of a jab, but has a feeling Fai sees right through him when the mage just laughs. Blond hair twines over pale skin as Fai pushes a few whisping strands away from his only slightly burnt face and starts undoing the ribbon there.

“Not hardly. But the heat is a cruel and the days are long.” Something old and sad echoes in the way he looks away, the distant gaze and the slow fall of his arm, ribbon held tight. It’s lingered like a cloud around him since they arrived, ebbing and flowing amidst the excitement of the Academy.

Kurogane pulls his own, still-cool cloak off and tosses it right over his idiot’s head. “Hey!”

“I can hear you thinking too hard from here,” he grouches, sidling across the room to fit himself into the space at the end of the lounge. Fai struggles feebly to free himself from the fabric for all of a second or two before giving up. He stills and curls inward, adopting the cloak as another masking layer.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Muffled by fabric, his voice sounds more fragile than it should. …Maybe he’s pushing where he shouldn’t.

“Of course not. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one? You’d think you’d learn better by now.” He tries to lead them back into the game and safer waters, but his lover doesn’t seem interested in following. Kurogane waits a beat for another silly quip, but Fai only grants him a muffled hum of agreement.

His brow furrows, worry multiplying. The longer the silence stretches, the less certain he feels. He tries to be patient, but the light streaming in from the screen begins shifting from sunset red to pale moon white all too quickly. The sounds of the world outside take on a hushed tone. Eventually he can’t take the quiet any more. Kurogane tuts with frustration. Reaching out for the lump of Fai buried in fabric, he pulls his cloak back and tosses it on the floor. The move leaves Fai’s hair a mess of static and fine strands.

“…I was using that,” the mage mumbles, gaze pinned to the ground. Kurogane doesn’t understand how one person can be so frustrating and so easy to love at the same damn time. He leans a little closer—lets his hand rest on Fai’s shoulder blade, tentative.

“Mage…”

“Oh, Alright Kuro-nosy!” The magician laughs even as he extols his annoyance. Beneath Kurogane’s fingers, tension slowly bleeds away until he leans into the touch. “But I warn you, it’s stupid. It hardly even matters. Just—nostalgia? Or—that’s the wrong word.”

It always matters, if it’s you, Kurogane thinks, but can’t bring himself to say. His inner monologue manages to distill that sappy mess down to a simpler, “If it bothers you, it matters,” and the phrase leaves him easily before he can dwell too long. Fai smiles—that old, bittersweet grin. Another fracture ripples through the surface of his heart at the sight.

“It’s so strange, being here, you know? I’ve studied magic before obviously, but—I’ve never seen anywhere like this.

“Free food and community and using magic to help each other—it’s… I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop—for something horrible about this world to come to light just to make it make sense.” Well, he can relate to that. He doesn’t see how it has anything to do with nostalgia though—

“Things have been too easy here,” he agrees. He takes a second look at the delicate window screens, noting how easily they might be kicked in. Do the kids have one in their room? Should they all bunk in the living area to stay in one place? He figured he was just paranoid, but if Fai feels it too— “Should we set up a watch, do you think?”

The mage blinks at him from his side in open confusion before his words fully register. Fai laughs, quiet and fond and at what, Kurogane has no idea but he welcomes the sound.

“Sorry! That’s not what I meant. I’m not explaining it right. This world seems fine, honestly. That’s part of what bothers me.”

“I don’t think I get it.” He frowns, trying to tune his alert instincts back down. Fussing with Fai’s mussed hair helps. He combs through it with his fingers and Fai seems content enough to let him, leaning towards his hand with every pass. Their positions shift until they sit pressed close at the thigh, side by side. Fai’s eyes slip closed and Kurogane watches the tiny shifts in his expression as he decides to try explaining again.

“There was a royal college of magic in Valeria. I can’t remember the specifics or how it worked but I do remember… we used to pretend we would go there and learn one day when we grew up.”

Oh. Nostalgia, he’d said, and Kurogane hadn’t managed to piece it together. He sees it now—the barest corner of what pains Fai, and protective worry stirs in him like a beast pacing at the bars. “Obviously, it never would have happened, but it gave us something to hope for—made us excited about something. We stole books from the library and taught each other whatever we could… Stupid, in the end. It only made things worse for us when the sovereign found out.”

“Fai…”

“Then in Celes, there was a Wizard’s guild, but I learned mostly from Ashura-ou and his library. And that was… good. I thought. But it wasn’t really, was it? I was just fooling myself. What happened… happened. Any memories I made were poisoned by the idea that he only ever meant to use me as a method of suicide, and I just keep thinking—I don’t know.

“This place is too perfect—it’s too… kind.”

Kurogane’s combing stills as he listens. He cradles the back of Fai’s neck instead, palm of his hand pressed to nape, as he tries to put his thoughts back to rights. He’s never been described as overly-empathetic, but the shadow of Fai’s hurt echoes in him all the same, sitting like a stone at the pit of his stomach. He wants more than anything to help ease its burden. He wishes he had some idea of how.

“Sorry. I told you it was stupid.”

“It isn’t,” he insists, but Fai’s self-derision is a stubborn foe. He huffs with frustration—he just wants Fai to know, somehow that this matters… that he matters. “The Manjuu might need one more day to recharge, but we can dodge at the first possibility. If this place bothers you, we can find something else.”

“No, It’s fine. Syaoran loves it here, and I’ll get over it, I’m just…. Memories are…” He casts a hand through the air, fluttering, as if that will describe it. It does, sort of, make a little sense. Kurogane sighs and leans forward far enough to press his brow to Fai’s.

To think. Not so long ago that Fai would never have been able to explain such a thing—wouldn’t have felt comfortable saying a word of it. They’ve built something better—stronger for all they’ve been through together and Kurogane longs to express that. Just—soon. Maybe not now. Not when he knows there’s already a lot going on in the mage’s head.

Fai leans in those last few inches and plies a soft kiss at the corner of Kurogane’s mouth before retreating. He wants to chase the sensation, but the look on Fai’s face stops him. “You, this place… I keep waiting for someone to tell me it’s all been a dream. It’s hard to believe something this nice exists—that I can have it without ruining it.” He can’t tell whether Fai means the world of the Academy, or what they have together. He doesn’t think Fai knows either.

“Hey—” he starts, utterly unsure of how to continue. Fai meets him with shaky breath and a wry smile.

“People like me don’t deserve nice things, Kuro-sama.” The mage says with utter certainty, no trace of doubt in his mind, and it kills Kurogane to hear.

He wants to be angry—to shout Fai’s ridiculous ideas of his own worth away, but he’s tried that. It won’t do anything in the end. He holds tighter instead, slides his hand just a little higher to cradle Fai’s thick skull. He wants to fix it—prove him wrong—give him worlds and worlds full of beauty just to show him.

You’re wrong, he wants to say, but he knows his idiot won’t listen. “I don’t care what you deserve,” he says instead. They’re close enough that he can feel Fai’s breath when the mage laughs this time, sad and tired.

“I know.”

Somehow those exhausted words in the dark feel like the start of a victory.

#TRC #tsubasa reservoir chronicle #Kurogane #Kurofai #Fanfic

39 notes · View notes

waypathfinder · 5 years

Photo

Crimson Lane - Chapter 11 - The Traitor

Moodboard by @ashtyntaytertot

Beta’d by @kathknight and @ashtyntaytertot

Links

Tumblr Master Post

Archive of our Own (from the start)

Archive of our Own (chapter)

Fanfiction.net

Chapter Text

Morning in the city was a deranged cocktail of senses to Kylo: jackhammers pounding, sirens screaming, crying babies, all of it stewing in a pot of pollution and garbage.

He stalked forward, head down with his hands stuffed into his pockets, his path direct; determined. People passed him, bumping against his body while fiddling on their phones, careless and self-absorbed, ignorant of how every touch made him stiffen; hyper-aware.

The product of someone who’d always had to watch their back.

And never more so than right now.

Normally, if he had to walk down the street, he did so with a pair of earphones in, tuning out the world around him.

But today, there was no music. He needed to be aware.

The noise of the city dulled into the background, the jolting disarray of sound overwhelmed by a subtle roar, breathless and quiet. Like the wind before a train cuts through a subway tunnel.

Everything fell silent but the roar of his inner monologue: You were the one who chose this path, you, a grovelling, terrified teenager.

And now his road cut deep, a chasm with no escape. He’d tried to claw his way out of it many times, but Snoke had always been one step ahead of the game.

Not any more.

Two weeks ago, Kylo Ren waited in Snoke’s office, eyes downcast, hands in pocket, toying nervously with a sleek black cylindrical shaped UBS Drive in his pocket.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Be patient!” Snoke scolded him, hungrily clicking on his mouse, the pink flesh of his tongue coasting across his lips.

“You said it was urgent.”

Snoke glared at him, lips moving, silent and angry.

“Were you on my computer before?”

“No,” Kylo said flatly.

“My settings have changed.” He clicked his mouse in loud tapping motions, annoyed. “That bastard San Tekka has been leaking info to the press again. I thought you were taking care of it.”

“I am. Hux and I have almost tracked him down. We’re close.”

“So you keep saying.”

Snoke clicked on the mouse a few more times, fascinated with whatever was on his screen. “For ex-security, he seems to know a lot about our operation.”

The hairs on the back of Kylo’s neck prickled unsettlingly. “Lor San Tekka may have just been a security guard, but he had the means to access a lot of information.”

Snoke was silent.

Watchful.

Kylo pulled at the collar of his shirt, feeling as if he were being choked.

“Do you think he’s getting his info from someone else?” Kylo asked.

“Possibly.” Snoke shrugged. “What do you think?”

“Unlikely—” he began, then smirked, thinking of a better response, “How much do you trust Hux?”

Snoke’s shoulders moved, a laugh. Kylo was almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief when his boss’s eyes narrowed at him as they flicked between the monitor and him.

“You little fucker!”

Kylo paled, throat closing.

“Did you think I wouldn’t see this?”

Snoke spun his laptop around. The footage was dark and the sound unclear, but there was a clear outline of men wearing black balaclavas. In the middle of the room was an elderly man, blabbering incoherently.

The tallest of the masked assailants took a step towards him and, with lightning speed, kicked him in the loin. The audio bled into weeping screams and Kylo stepped back, turning away. It always made him sick to watch himself work.

“Did I tell you to look away?”

Kylo straightened, his pulse pounding at the base of his neck. “I don’t see what the problem is. You got your money.“

“You call that a Mawashi Geri? You are off-balance. What am I paying you for if you can’t even deliver a simple roundhouse kick?”

“We got the money,” Kylo stressed the point through gritted teeth, balling his fists behind his back.

Snoke rolled his eyes as his lips curled into a sneer.

“It’s not just about the money, son. These vipers need to learn that the First Order owns them. Did he need to go to a hospital?”

No, they had left him bleeding and screaming on the floor. In pain, but not seriously injured.

A failure, in Snoke’s eyes.

“Just what I thought. I have no use for spineless worms who can’t follow orders.”

Kylo nodded, eyes downcast. “Is that all?”

“No.” Snoke stood, his golden robe sweeping around his body in a gesture of grandeur. He glided towards Kylo, slow and smooth as a snake slithers through the grass.

“I have a question for you,” he whispered. “Blonde or brunette?”

“Huh?” Kylo asked, taken aback at the change in conversation.

“What do you like to fuck, blondes or brunettes?”

“I…” he stammered. Some part of him still felt ashamed that he used the girls here. It was— It was not the way he saw his future playing out.

“Which one—” Snoke’s voice rose.

“Brunette.”

“Ha!” Snoke purred. “Interesting. You know, I found a pretty little piece of flesh the other day. Phasma’s going to bring her in. She has no family, is desperate for cash, young. You will like her. Brunette. ”

“They all do the same job once the lights are off,” Kylo said dryly.

Snoke chuckled to himself, his bony fingers reaching out and squeezing Kylo’s shoulder. “Well, that’s true. I’ll book her in for you. Monday, July 2. Kanjiklub are late with their payment again. I need you to show Tasu Leech we mean business. Smash his kneecap, I don’t care which one. You can have this girl when you’re finished… to unwind.”

“Fine,” Kylo grumbled. “Bring her in.”

“Oh, I will,” he hissed, those icy eyes filling Kylo with a chill that ran straight to his core.

***

Bring her in.

Those three fateful words. Kylo had said them just to shut Snoke up. But his boss had planned this from the beginning, setting the trap, using Rey as the bait. The question was why, now, after all this time, was Snoke so focused on him? Was it a power play, a lesson to bring him into line, or something bigger and far more dangerous?

And Rey.

Snoke had dragged her into this shit-show. Manipulated and lured her into thinking she could pay off her debt—the one he had forced on her.

Kylo stormed past a metal bin anchored to a pole, battered and dented from years of misuse.

Rey.

He kicked it as hard as he could. The metal crash rang out, scattering loose pieces of rubbish on the ground.

He had to keep Snoke away from her, and time was running out.

Kylo kicked the bin again, this time it dislodged from its anchor, and crashed onto the sidewalk, almost taking out a middle-aged couple in the process. They exchanged knowing looks at each other and mouthed the word ‘drugs’.

If only it was drugs. Then he would have an excuse for being the way he was. Violent. Unbalanced.

He charged down the street, fixated on the passing pavement beneath his feet until he was standing in front of a faded red door.

Kylo hammered on it.

No answer.

Again.

He stopped, knuckles stinging, from the other side there was the sound of rattling keys and... one, two, three: the locks snapped open. The handle turned and the door creaked open, just enough.

A gaunt man with short-cropped white hair, a neat beard and pale blue eyes peered out.

Kylo pushed the door open with his boot and Lor San Tekka took an unsteady step back.

“Look how old you’ve become.”

”Something far worse has happened to you,” Lor replied.

Kylo straightened his spine, glowering. “You know why I’m here.”

“Take a seat.”

Rey crossed her arms, gnawing at the inside of her mouth like she was chewing on a bone.

This was a bad idea.

A very bad Idea.

“Come on, Rey. I don’t bite,” Poe said, flashing his dazzling white teeth at her.

She studied him warily, noting the way he stood between her and the exit; one hand clutching his briefcase, the other inviting her to sit. Ridiculous smile, glued in place. No doubt he tried to look welcoming, but it was too eager, like she was being lured into a trap.

You could still leave. She tried to stay calm. Just turn around and disappear forever.

Poe must have sensed her hesitation, because he sat down with a lazy thump, kicking his feet up on the chair opposite, and casually began reading the menu with a bored expression.

Eventually, Rey took a measured breath and lowered her body slowly into the booth as Poe watched her subtly, peering out beneath his thick brows. At the far end of the room, a tray crashed to the floor and the sound of breaking glass shattered around her. She jumped, skittery as a wild deer. Heart pounding.

“Here.” Poe pushed the menu towards her, his voice placating. “Order whatever you want. My work’s paying.”

She supposed she could stay for a bite to eat if he was paying. After all, Rey looked around at the plush velvet seats, vase centrepieces with explosions of colour… and then there were those rich aromas wafting from the kitchen. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

A restaurant meal. When would she be lucky enough to score one of those again?

“Okay,” she sighed and opened the menu, running her finger down the line of prices.

$29, $35, $32…

Ah. There it was.

“I’ll have that one.” She tapped her finger against the menu.

“The lobster?” Poe squinted at his own menu, jaw dropping. “It’s sixty-five dollars!”

“Yes, that’s the one.” She nodded decisively. “I’ve not tried it before.”

He took her menu back and groaned. “Really? You’ve ordered the most expensive thing on the menu.”

“Did I ?” Rey teased, a picture of innocence.

Poe shook his head, mumbling something about a thirty-dollar limit. It was a small victory, but it was sweet enough.

Once the orders were taken, Poe pulled out a dog-eared file and whacked it on the table.

“Don’t you use computers at the Hosnian Herald?” she asked.

“Cute. You want to be a reporter sweetheart? You watch and learn.”

Rey rolled her eyes, but watched anyway, because hell yes, she wanted to be a reporter.

Poe placed a notepad filled with messy shorthand strokes on the table, followed by a dictaphone.

“I thought you said you left that back at the office?”

“Did I ?”

Rey scowled at him, but that may have been because otherwise she might have smiled. Bloody reporters!

“Right, let’s get started.“ Poe bypassed the notepad and pressed ‘record’ on the dictaphone.

“So, Rey,” he said, locking his black coffee-coloured eyes on her. “How’s life in the sex industry?”

Shit! She shot her hand to turn off the recording device.

“You can’t record that!”

“For a girl who’s trying to protect her secrets, you’re not very obliging.”

“What makes you think I’m trying to hide anything?”

“Oh, in that case, I’ll call Finn back and he can take notes. Sorry, my bad.”

Rey’s mouth turned to ash, fingernails pushing into her forearms, leaving half-moon pressure marks on her skin. She was stuffed, and could only watch in horror as Poe unlocked his phone, flicking through his contact list.

“Wait!”

Breathe, Rey! The words were her own, but they had mixed with the gravelly undercurrent of her former Sensei, Master Skywalker. The memory swept her away to a quiet hall with bright, sunlit windows and polished wooden floors.

“ What do you see?” Master Skywalker asked, his voice filtering through her meditation, guiding her.

“The man in black,” she whispered. Those quiet moments of self-reflection always wrenched her back to that cesspit of a home, to the night she was attacked. She could never stop seeing him.

“You see your enemy?” his voice was calm, a safe harbour in stormy seas.

“Yes.”

“Never show weakness before your enemy. Stand strong.”

And like that, she was back, faced with this smiling, ambitious reporter who thought he could bully her into exposing her story.

She stiffened, lifting her eyebrows and meeting his eyes with a level-headed coldness.

“Are you blackmailing me, Poe Dameron?”

“Blackmail?” Poe looked affronted. “What!? No!”

“So, what if I refuse to tell you anything?”

“Then you refuse. There’s not much I can do about it.”

“You won’t tell Finn what I’m doing?”

Poe sighed. “Look, I don’t want your story, Rey. I have no wish to expose you or call you out. I just want you to tell me everything you know about Snoke.

Alexander Snoke. Rey shivered. Even the thought of that deceptively frail, hulking creep made her want to disappear forever. “I don’t know anything about Snoke.”

Poe nodded, as though he expected as much. Untying the document wallet before of him, he opened the flap and pulled out a stack of newspaper clippings.

“Let me enlighten you then.”

Terror bombing kills 120

First Order scores multi-million dollar government security contract

Palpatine’s popularity soars amidst vote of no confidence

Resistance battered into submission, Organa-Solo resigns

“And my personal favourite.”

Reporter targeted in Yavin car bomb

“Your boss, Alexander Snoke, is behind every single one of these stories.”

Rey sifted through the articles as Poe continued to bring more out, scattering them on the table in a messy collage: reports of beatings, stabbings, robbery, blackmail… the list seemed endless.

“To the public, he is the revered CEO of the First Order. Fortune magnet. But behind the scenes, he is manipulating the government and crushing anyone who gets in his way.”

“What’s his endgame then?” Rey flicked through the pages, amazed at how much Poe had actually pegged against him.

“Power.” Poe twisted his cup of water on the table, watching the way the water stayed still regardless. “By bombing the Resistance, he created a sense of panic. Meanwhile, he has a few quiet words to his mate Palpatine, and what do you know? The First Order scores a huge government contract, providing security and weapons to the police force. Suddenly the Imperial government’s rigid military rule starts to look like a pretty good idea, and since Palpatine owes him a couple favours he can start to cash in and make things go the way he wants on a larger scale.”

“That seems like a bit of a far stretch for a guy who runs a brothel.”

“A brothel and a multi-billion-dollar company. Anyway, the brothel is just a front, essentially; plus, he likes it. The guy’s a complete sexual deviant.”

Rey thought back to his special cupboard, the way he had filmed her. Poe sure as hell wasn’t wrong about that.

“From Crimson Lane he does all the illegal stuff because he wouldn’t be caught dead doing that at the First Order; it’s under a lot more scrutiny. Also, he can’t fund any underhanded deals through First Order books, so that’s where the loans and drugs come into play. He preys on junkies and anyone else in desperate positions. He finds their weak spot and breaks them through blackmail, loans, threats, addiction, whatever he can to fund his operation.”

Rey searched through the clippings, her expression hollow. It was so much bigger than she ever thought.

And was this what Kylo Ren was part of? She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t.

But…

And there was a but. A brutal threatening fact that lurked in the shadow of her mind.

Her hand strayed across the Resistance bombing articles, Senator Leia Organa-Solo had stepped down after they had lost so many lives, feeling somehow responsible.

She picked up the largest article on the Resistance attack:

Terror bomb devastates. Beneath the headline was a photograph of broken bodies beneath white sheets that were smeared with blood. From beneath one of them was a child’s hand outstretched, charred and bloody. Lifeless. She had seen images of that hand on the television news that day. It had stayed with her long after.

She read beneath the image.

There are fears up to 120 are dead today after a mysterious bomb blast crushed Resistance headquarters in the early hours of the morning.

A spokesperson for the Police first response team said the perpetrators designed the bomb to cause maximum damage.

The Imperial government has denied any involvement and has condemned the attack as “despicable”.

It looks to be the end of an already embattled Resistance party, after they suffered a landslide defeat in the last election.

Rey glued her eyes to the story, hand trembling.

Did Rose know she was working for the man responsible for her sister’s death? Did any of them?

“How can you be sure that Snoke is behind all of this?”

Poe lowered his head and whispered, “I have a source.”

Rey nodded, furrowing her brow. There was a rising feeling of anxiety from deep within. Poe pressed on, leaning forward.

“I promise you, once we’re finished with this story, Snoke will be done. We’ll have him on the Resistance bombing and so much more. Rey—”

He said her name with a breath of desperation, as though he had come to the point where he would plead his case, but he held back.

Rey gnawed at her fingernails, mind racing. If Snoke was behind all this, then did it mean Kylo was the one inflicting the damage?

“We need to get him, Rey. This bastard never gets his own hands dirty. He gets his army of trained mercenaries to do it for him — he calls them his Knights.”

She nodded, face ashen, the newspaper report on the Resistance bombing trembling in her shaking hands. Her eyes, glued on the pictures of covered bodies. The sound of that explosion, rippling through her brain. The stench, smouldering rubble, singed flesh, sirens, screams, despair. She hadn’t even there, walking two blocks away, but it was close enough.

“What do you know about the Knights?” she asked.

“There are nine of them, headed up by the guy only known as Kylo Ren.” Poe pried the article from her fingers and slipped it back inside his folder. “No one knows who he is or what he looks like, but from what I understand, he comes around the brothel from time to time—”

Her lungs were burning. Why couldn’t she breathe?

Poe paused, eyes narrowing in on her. “Rey, do you know who he is?”

She opened her mouth, closed it again and looked away.

“This is important Rey. If you can identify him—”

“No,” she snapped, shaking her head. “I don’t know who it is. I’ve just heard his name mentioned, that’s all.”

Poe exhaled, his demeanour slumping into the chair. “That’s a shame. Well, anyway, if you come across that guy, Rey, you run and don’t look back.”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured and meant it. Sorry that she had lied. That even while she understood Kylo was one of the “bad” guys, deep down she wasn’t ready to believe the worst of him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was stuck, like she was.

But if Kylo was involved in that bombing, she couldn’t…

She swallowed. Her body was prickling with feverous heat, like the temperature rise before throwing up.

“Do you think he…” She took a drink of water, trying to hide the way she couldn’t stop shaking. “Do you think Kylo Ren was behind the bombing?”

Poe stared at her for a beat.

Too long.

“No. Anything with pyrotechnics is Armitage’s work. Red-headed English guy. A snivelling rat. You’ll know him when you see him. Total psycho. Loves his work.”

Rey startled as the waiter slid their meals in front of them without a word. Rey ignored it, even though her stomach was rumbling and the rich smell of the lobster with white sauce was wafting before her.

“If you’ve got a source, why do you need me?”

“Because I don’t know how much longer I will have him.”

Poe cut into the tender flesh of his steak. The juices bled onto the plate, drowning the rest of his food in red.

“A guy named Lor San Tekka got in touch with me a month ago. He’s been feeding me information on Snoke. He used to work for him until last year as a security guard. He quit after the attack. His wife, Marianne, worked for Senator Organa. She was one of the first ones found in the wreckage that day, or at least, they found parts of her.”

Rey shivered, nausea growing in her gut.

“Why on earth would you tell me who your source is?” Rey asked, horrified. She had learnt that much in the university; never, ever reveal your sources.

“I’m telling you because I need you to listen out for me. If you hear anything that sounds like they will make a move on San Tekka, I need you to tell me,” Poe said in a hushed voice. “The guy has a USB drive with enough dirt to take down Snoke and the First Order once and for all. But I don’t know…” He dragged a hand down his face, all of his suave arrogance disappearing in the movement.

“I have a bad feeling about it, Rey. Like it’s all too easy. This San Tekka guy’s got a target on his back. He’s the only one with the motive to take down Snoke. It won’t take them long to figure out he’s the leak... if they haven’t already.”

Rey thought about it. Something wasn’t right here, and she had good instincts about these things.

“So, you have him on the Resistance bombing?” she asked.

“That and so much more, I mean, this last Monday, Tasu Leech, who heads up the Kanjiklub crime family, was left beaten within an inch of his life. That was Kylo Ren’s work apparently, according to my source.”

Monday. Rey felt the blood rushing from her face. Their first night together.

“What else do you have on Kylo Ren?” God, she wished her voice would stop shaking.

“We have everything, Rey. Everything he’s been involved in over the last ten years up until last week. Well, everything except his true identity.”

Rey played with her food, quiet and thoughtful. There were so many mixed emotions fighting within her. And then a thought struck her.

“If San Tekka was just a security guard who quit his job over a year ago, how does he have access to all of this? I mean, these are some of Snoke’s biggest secrets. That doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Well, wouldn’t it indicate there was another source? One that still works for Snoke really closely. Perhaps Lor isn’t your primary source. You said his wife was murdered in the attack, but what if he was just a front-man, who was being fed information from the real source, so he or she can stay in a position of trust.”

Poe gawked and then smiled appreciatively. “Well, I’ll be damned, Rey. Finn said you were brilliant.”

“I’m far from brilliant—” Blighted, more like.

But Poe ignored her. “Tell you what. You help me crack this case and there will be a job for you at the end of all this.”

“What, as your coffee assistant?” she scoffed.

“As a reporter, if that’s what you want? You ask the right questions, Rey, and you can obviously write, since Finn said your first year was on a scholarship. And you’ve got sass. I like that.”

Rey considered his offer. What if, after all of this, she could still have a future… How dangerous could it be?

“You’re thinking about it.” Poe leaned in with a hungry smile. “Maybe once this story is done, I could even give you a joint byline with Finn.”

A byline. Her jaw dropped, eyes smiling. Could it happen? She almost felt like crying at the possibility.

“Poe, I—”

“Don’t thank me yet. Because there’s one more thing I need from you.”

Kylo Ren squeezed into the ornate dining chair, covered in floral upholstery. The cushion of the seat was stained yellow and every time he moved it creaked, threatening imminent collapse.

Lor San Tekka’s late sister’s townhouse was a time capsule of 1970s decor, vomited up into the modern day. Vintage brown paper lined the walls and floral drapes with dusty sheer curtains clothed the windows. There were layers of dust upon every surface and it stunk of potpourri.

Next to the front door, a stoic grandfather clock stood guard, passing time with resonant beats. It was near midday. Six hours before he would be with Rey. The thought of it made his throat dry, senses alert.

She had left things … hopeful.

But he couldn’t think of her now.

Kylo sat alone at a compact dining table with two regency chairs.

The silence of the lounge room forced Kylo to listen to the old man groaning with pain, accompanied by the sound of an erratic flow of urine splashing into the basin with moans of relief.

Fuck old age. He never wanted to be old and weak. Luckily, he figured his time would come sooner rather than later—

The toilet flushed and Lor battled to return down the hall, face wincing with every step he took towards the small dining area.

Lor smiled weakly. He‘d withered into a shell of a man, with dark circles beneath his eyes, bones protruding against stretched white skin, his hair missing in clumps. And then there was that smell, hidden beneath the layers of potpourri, a stench that hovered like a low cloud blotting out the sun. It was the smell old age, like candle wax and old newspapers; the promise of death. He knew Lor was sick, but he hadn’t realised how close he was to the end.

“How have you been?” Kylo asked, ignoring the expressions of pain that fleeted across Lor’s face as he sat.

“The doctors say there’s not much time left. The cancer has spread too far. Inoperable, apparently. Let this be a warning, young Solo, to get your prostate checked regularly.”

Kylo looked out the window, past dust floating in roads of sunlight. He had known Lor his entire life; the guy was his goddamn Godfather. But even in his old age, Lor had been a beacon of strength, both physical and mental.

That had changed after the bomb. After Marianne had died…

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kylo said, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Don’t be.” Lor poured a cup of tea for them both.

“Is there nothing they can do?”

“Why should they do anything?” Lor stirred his tea, spooning out stray tea leaves. “I have been hanging on here by a thread, Ben. I want to go home, I want to be with my wife.”

“Let’s get on with this—” Kylo snapped, pulling a USB stick out of his pocket.

Lor smiled, eyes distant. “You know, I still remember the day I met her. Marianne was an intern for the Resistance, and I was First Order security.” He laughed. “If looks could kill! Well, let’s say I wouldn’t be around to talk to you.”

Kylo flicked him a fake smile, more focussed on the small cylinder of information that could potentially destroy him and everyone else that worked for Snoke, than Lor’s musings of yesteryear.

“She was sharp as a tack, outspoken with a fiery temper. You can only imagine how much grief she gave me.”

Kylo nodded, a half smile. He could imagine Marianne putting San Tekka in his place, almost like… he saw her in his mind’s eye; hazel eyes, sun-kissed cheeks, dotted with a galaxy of stars…

Lor was still talking, but he had stopped listening, although now the old man’s tears fell, simply, without fanfare.: Chronic sadness.

He couldn’t imagine that pain. He wouldn’t let that happen to him, to Rey. Not that he loved Rey, or even…

He didn’t know. But he sure as hell wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“What’s on your mind, Ben?”

Kylo straightened his back against the chair, hesitant to ask, but he had to know.

“How did you change her mind about you?”

“I didn’t. She fell in love with me despite what I did or the fact I worked for the ‘enemy’. She made me a better man.”

“You sold out then.” Kylo took a sip of his tea, dark eyes flashing up at Lor to check his reaction and was not disappointed,

Lor glowered, cheeks red, the first glimpse of colour on his grey face.

“No, you idiot. She made me want to be better.”

“How sweet.” Kylo gave him a wry smile.

“Mock all you like. But I know where you came from, before you called yourself Kylo Ren. I know what lies beneath the darkness.”

“Anyway.” Kylo rolled his eyes, weaving the small cylindrical shaped USB drive between his fingers. “This has all Snoke’s correspondence leading up to the Resistance bombing, and plenty of dirt afterwards. You need to get this to Poe tonight. I won’t be able to get you another copy, I risked everything just getting this one.”

Lor took it from him, appearing to marvel at the size of something so powerful.

“This is it, Lor, this drive has everything we need to take Snoke down.”

“Everything?”

“Video footage, photos, emails, for the last five years, the lot. It will ruin him.”

“And what about Kylo Ren? Where does he fit in all of this?”

Kylo got up, hands restless as he paced about the room. “I told you, I wasn’t involved in the Resistance bombing—but my hands aren’t clean.” He stopped, meeting Lor’s gaze. “I’m not hiding anything. If the First Order is to burn, Kylo Ren will burn with it.”

“Ben—” Lor leaned in, as though he would stand, but that bolt of pain showed in his face again and he clearly thought better of it. “You can still…“

“No.”

Kylo looked out into the street beyond, face resolute.

“It’s time to let the past die. I’m done with all of it. Snoke, the First Order, the Resistance. Everything.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re rushing this through now,” Lor said “It was safe when we were just trickling information to the press, pulling back when Snoke got suspicious. If this doesn’t go to plan, we’re both dead men.”

Kylo gazed out the window as cars streamed past, colours muted by the lace curtains. On the footpath, children rode their bikes. People. Peace. Life. It went on, regardless of what happened to him, or Lor.

“It’s not negotiable. I need to bring him down by Friday.”

“But why—”

“Because!” Kylo snapped. Because if he didn’t, how could he keep protecting her from Snoke? No. From Friday, that bastard had cleared her bookings for the rest of the week; apart from the odd session with Hux, the rest he had pencilled in for himself.

Not a fucking chance.

It was the least Kylo could do to make it up to her. For being the one that haunted her nightmares, and terrorised her daydreams. If he couldn’t tell her the truth about that night in Jakku, he would at least do this. To free her. To free them both.

“Very well,” Lor conceded. “I will get this to Poe tonight. It’s time we brought this bastard down once and for all.”

Kylo gave him a solemn nod and turned, throat dry, blinking. He worked to clear it, trying to hold back the unsettled feeling bubbling in his gut.

“There’s one more thing—” Kylo paused as he took a deep breath, forcing himself to look the old man in the eye. “After tonight, you need to leave. Snoke has a hit on you.”

“That old bastard’s had a hit on me since I left the First Order.”

“But this time—” Kylo clamped his jaw, rolling his lips together. Time was running out for Lor.

“Snoke will send you after me.” Lor guessed what he would say. “And Kylo Ren never misses.”

Kylo was silent, but his face gave away the truth, it always did.

“Maybe it’s time I started missing,” said Kylo.

“No.” Lor shook his head. “Not this time. If Snoke discovers you’re the leak, then any chance we had of taking the First Order down is over. You need to protect your position, play the game. It isn’t worth risking everything for—”

“I won’t let him find you.”

“And if he does? What will you do?”

Kylo stared at him, silent.

“You will need to do it, Ben.”

Kylo looked away, eye’s glassy.

“You will do it, won‘t you Ben?”

Lor reached forward, grasping his hand around Kylo’s wrist. His grip was firm, even though his end was coming.

“We have to see this through, Kylo. Who will be next, your father? Your mother? This girl Snoke’s toying with in front of you? The bastard will never stop until he’s removed everyone you’ve ever cared about.”

Kylo pinched the space between his eyes at the sharp pain that was building there, increasing every day.

“He wants you Kylo. You’ve always been a prize to him, something he can covet and keep and control. If he can’t have you, he will destroy you.”

Kylo fingered the keys in his pocket as he nodded a quiet goodbye.

“It’s all right, Ben.” Lor eventually stood again, grasping his shoulder, breaking him out of his reverie. “Whatever happens tonight, it will be all right.”

Kylo moved towards the door, silent and dark, a black shadow disappearing into nothingness. He gripped the front door handle, eyeing the moving hands of the grandfather clock. The noon chimes would sound within the minute. But he had an overwhelming urge to leave before the hour struck. He pulled the door open, just as the sound of the low, ominous toll of the clock chimes followed him out. They were like the strike of a death knell, forcing him to a fate he couldn’t escape.

The door closed behind him and the cries of the clock chased him into the daylight again. He keeled over, pushing his hands against his knees, trying to breathe, trying to think.

But all he could hear was the roar, loud and consuming, tearing at him now.

It was a feeling, a warning, that this plan of theirs was all going to hell.

Poe hesitated, scanning the room before continuing, “If things fall through with Lor—”

She buried her forehead in her hands, dreading what was coming next.

“Rey, this is important. If things fall through with Lor, I need another backup. Someone on the inside who can get close to Snoke and Kylo. Someone who can feed information to us without suspicion.”

Rey groaned and pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. “I knew you would ask me this.”

“People’s lives are on the line.”

She raised her voice. “ My life is on the line!”

Restaurant patrons froze, forks hovering mid-air to their mouths, looking at her, silent. She slid deeper into her chair, lowering her chin and rubbing her forehead as though she were pushing away a headache.

Poe smirked. “Are you trying to draw attention to us?”

“No,” she sulked, poking at the remains on her dinner plate like it were a dead carcass.

After a time, the diners resumed their chatter and returned to their lunch. Rey breathed a sigh of relief, careful not to draw more attention to them. There was no guarantee that there wasn’t a spy or friend of Snoke’s lurking around, listening.

“Poe, look, you seem like a nice guy. Fighting the good fight and all, but I need this job. If I lose it—”

She met his gaze, unflinching and thoughtful. Should she tell him everything? He might know who was holding her ransom with this crippling debt.

The scraping of plates, murmuring patrons and gentle jazz faded away, leaving a heavy silence between them.

“I owe some money, and someone’s after me to get it back,” she whispered.

Poe leaned in; that reporter’s spark shining in his dark, hungry eyes. “Who’s after you?”

“I don’t know his name or anything about him. He wore a black mask and black clothes.”

“Right,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. Thinking. “A man in black. Like in The Princess Bride ?”

“What?!” she shrieked. “Nothing like the Princess Bride. Have you even watched that movie?”

“Hey, I saw the trailer. Twice.”

“Well if you’d watched it you’d know he was trying to rescue her the entire time. He was the love interest. Forget it!” she snapped and grabbed her bag, pushing an uneaten dinner roll into the front pocket.

“Hold on, hold on! I’m sorry, Rey,” Poe pleaded, hand outstretched, patting the table before her. “Don’t go!”

She paused, still clutching her bag, itching to leave.

“Please, Rey,” Poe continued, his voice gentle, disarming. “I want to help you.”

“You can’t,” she breathed.

He took her hand in his own. It felt warm and rough, thick and gentle. “Try me, sunshine.”

Rey sighed.

“Okay… six years ago.” Her stomach churned at the memory of that time. “I went back to my home in Jakku…”

***

There she was again. Transported to the deserted apartment building, forgotten by everyone except the resident cockroaches moving in scattered swarms across the kitchen floor.

Rey had hauled her dog bed up from the street below, opened the windows, and cleared the cigarettes and beer bongs. Within a week, the chemical haze had disintegrated, and now she almost felt comfortable.

Her late parent’s apartment was scorching in summer. Heat rose through every storey, making her little spot like an oven during the night and even more unbearable in the day. The cockroaches dwindled in number but no matter what she did, there were always flies; buzzing and bouncing around the rooms clumsily.

But, it was home.

The days were easy, filled with scavenging and hunting for treasures she could swap for food. But the nights were something else. The abandoned building had become a hive for squatters; she could hear them through the walls, shouting, fighting, humping. Sometimes, they tried to ransack her room. Banging at the door with broken bottles, asking her to come out. She had bolted the door and hammered planks across the doorframe, barriers to stop them getting in. But there was always the fear it wouldn’t be enough to hold them back.

And it wasn’t.

***

“The chair!” a voice hissed. “Tie her to the chair.”

She scrambled, arms and legs flailing. She lashed out with her nails, kicking at whatever flesh she could find, even biting when she had the chance. The fight was short-lived and pathetic; in under a minute, the cold steel of the chair was hard against her back.

“Stop!” she cried. “I‘m just a scavenger. Can‘t you see I don‘t have anything?”

A man in black towered over her. He was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, and while a balaclava hid his face, she could clearly see his eyes like pieces of coal. Cold and empty.

“Quiet,” he hissed, pinning her hands down with his forearms while he tightened cable ties around her wrists.

“Last month you came into a sum of money…”

“No,” she whimpered. The money she had gotten for selling her body. The money that Unkar Plutt had stolen from her the same day. “I don’t have it!”

He came closer, voice calm and deadly. She felt his gaze all over, studying her from top to bottom, assessing her. A wooden club tapped against his leather palm in a slow staccato rhythm.

“She’s lying.” Another man stepped out of the shadows, also masked, but with fire-red tendrils of hair poking out from beneath his balaclava. “I just got off the phone with him. She has the money to cover the parent’s debt.”

Her assailant stepped forward again, squatting before her, resting his heavy elbows upon her knees. He raised her chin with his club, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze.

“I know you have the money.”

She shook her head again, but he pressed the club hard against her.

“And now you‘re going to give it to me.“

She kicked her legs at him, aiming for his groin, but missed, hitting his shin instead. His eyes twitched with pain, and he wrenched her hands forward, almost ripping her from the chair.

To fight or take flight? There was no longer a question.

She riled. An inferno of heat exploded in Rey’s body. She’d had enough. So far she had been abandoned, abused, taken advantage of and now assaulted. Enough!

She drew the saliva from her mouth and spat at him with as much force as she could muster, her spittle landing in his eye.

He wiped it away, and she smirked.

“I’m not giving you anything!”

“We’ll see.” He stood, turning away from her as he tapped a number into his phone, bringing it to his ear.

The room fell into silence, the subdued ringer, the only noise in this vacuum of sound. The red-haired man paced in front of her, while the other men anchored around the perimeter fixed their eyes on her like hungry dogs waiting for the kill.

“You were right. The parents died of a drug overdose a year ago,” the man in black spoke quietly into the phone. “The girl’s here like you expected. What do you want me to do with her?”

Silence.

He nodded, covering the mouthpiece to speak to her.

“Is your name Kira?”

“Piss off,” she hissed.

The man gave her a wry smile. “Yeah, it’s Kira.”

He walked around the room, murmuring into the phone inaudibly. At one point, he walked straight over her bed on the floor, tripping on it. He kicked it out of his path, and then paused, looking back at her.

“You got a dog?”

Rey shook her head, brows knitting in confusion until she realised what he was talking about. Her cheeks burned as she looked at the dog bed, her bed.

He stared at her, almost like he knew. She didn‘t know where to look, because now he studied her with a gravity that made her even more unsettled than the cold darkness in his eyes.

“Right.” He held the phone out to his partner. “He wants to speak with you.”

The red-haired man snatched the phone. “Yes, I’m here,” he said with a pompous voice, too grandiose and out-of-place for a common thug. He walked out with the phone, leaving Rey alone with her assailant and his silent disciples.

She tried to quiet the threatening thoughts in her mind, her imagination running wild, picturing what a gang of criminals might do to her alone, in her apartment, with no one to help her. She closed her eyes, praying to whatever God was listening to her, to get her out of this alive.

When she opened them again, the man in black was right there in front of her, squatting, in her space. She could smell the spicy aroma of his aftershave and see the bags under his eyes.

When he kneeled this close to her, the cruellest thing was that those eyes were not un kind—in fact, they were almost sensitive.

But there was the lie. For this person was dangerous, a harbinger of all her worst nightmares.

“How old are you?” he asked, voice quiet. She would almost have thought him gentle, had he not been holding a weapon at his side.

She gathered herself, pushing back the tide of terror threatening to overwhelm her.

“I’m s—sixteen.”

He turned away, mouth furrowed.

He went to speak, but just then the door thumped open and the redhead stormed in with a satiated grin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the man in black shouted, as his companion held out his phone and hit record.

“The boss wants to watch you work.”

“Turn it off,” he growled.

“No can do. He wants you to break her arms, just to see if it will loosen her tongue.”

Rey’s blood ran cold, and the world slowed into some terrible horror film. The man in black marched to her, gripping her left arm between the fingers of his black gloves.

“Speak,” he ordered, squeezing.

Tears welled, burning her eyes, she couldn’t hold them back. It was too much, the fear, the pain…

“I can’t—- I don’t…” she stammered.

“Tell us where the money is!” The grip on her arm grew tighter, bruising her flesh.

Her tears came faster now, hot torrents streaming down her cheeks.

It was too much.

She could barely see, vision blurred by those hot salty tears, but she could still make out the baton held back and ready to swing against her arm. And then he crushed his fingers around her tighter, so hard she thought her bones would break.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop, it hurts too much.”

He faltered, letting her go. She crouched over as much as her bindings allowed, heaving sobs rushing from her chest, as the men who had watched silently from the edges sniggered.

“Please,” she whimpered. “I don’t have the money. I never had it.”

The heaving breaths would not subside and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the crack that would splinter her bones.

A beat of wind rushed past her and every muscle in her body clenched as she waited for impact. There was a loud crash, followed by a ruckus of yelling and swearing. A wall mirror shattered, shards of it cascading around her.

Rey lifted her head, confused. He hadn’t hit her.

Another smash, but this time she had seen the moment the man in black had raised a chair above his head, throwing it across the room and smashing a coffee table, destroying a thousand-piece puzzle she had been constructing.

“Speak, or it will be your head next!” he roared, with a voice as wild and untamed as a feral beast.

“I don’t—” she sobbed, her voice coming in waves of sound and silence. He was going to kill her. This monster would be the last person she would ever see. Even as her tears came, he smashed his club around the room, forcing holes within the wall, destroying pictures, every last thing she had ever owned.

Rey watched them all fall in pieces at her feet.

“Are you quite finished?” the red-headed man sneered at him, holding the phone up to get a better angle of her attacker.

“I’ll make her talk,” the man in black growled.

“I knew you wouldn’t be man enough to follow through. Do it.” He turned his rat-shaped eyes intently toward Rey. “If that doesn’t loosen her tongue then she can pay off her debt in the brothel. We can all help her, lads, can’t we?”

The men cheered. Rey tried to swallow, but her mouth felt like flint. The only one who hadn’t cajoled was the man in black. But his expression was different, fiercely intent and no less terrifying.

Rey’s heart dropped. Was this what her life would be reduced to? To spend her life as a whore, without love, without a home, a slave—

She was jolted out of her thoughts as the chair she was tied to was dragged backwards, the sound of metal screeching across the tile floor. All she could do was look back at the surprised eyes of the men who watched her being dragged away.

Alone, with this psycho.

She squeezed her eyelids shut. Preparing herself for whatever was coming next.

“Open your eyes.” His voice was like steel, firm and low, cutting sharp in the scorched air.

She did. They were alone in the kitchen.

And he had her knives.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

A blast of hot wind blew in from the open window as he unrolled a small bundle of Brazilian knives. She had kept those on the bench for cooking. Meticulously, he slid one out, flicking the blade, testing the sharpness by pressing the point through the finger of his glove, making it bleed.

He came to her with silent footsteps, sucking the blood from his finger. He pulled her chair in front of the window with a rough jolt.

From here she could see the street, five storeys below, empty and black. She thought about screaming.

He placed a hand on either side of the armrest, and he peered at her again, biting his lip.

“You know I can take whatever I want.”

Rey swallowed. Her tears were dry now, courage resurfacing. “That’s no less than I would expect from a monster in a mask.”

“A monster?” He stepped back.

He lifted his hands, the black leather gloves pulling up the base of his balaclava. Rey’s panic increased tenfold; everyone knew an attacker who was willing to betray their own identity was going to go the whole way.

He pulled it up over his chin, revealing a narrow jaw and then…

He stopped, before she had seen anything, as if suddenly changing his mind.

An ambiguous looked passed between them before he went back to the knives, placing one in each hand.

“I never miss,” he said calmly, lifting a filleting knife up for her to see.

He flung it at her and it speared past her head, smashing through the windows and clattering onto the dilapidated fire escape outside.

Rey shrieked, and he threw another, cutting through the wind beside her ear on the other side. More glass.

She had no more words; they were drowned by her sobs. She wanted her mother. Her drugged-up, absent mother. Anyone—anyone else in the world other than him!

“You need to learn how to fight,” he said surely.

The words surprised her, but only for a moment because then he slammed the wooden baton against one leg of her chair, the force of it flipping her face down against the tiles.

She lifted her body, just enough as to splay her hands against the cutting board on the floor. He grabbed her fingers, forcing them flat on the board. She fought against him, trying to clench her fist shut.

“Spread them.”

She shook her head, tears spilling on the white tiles.

“I said spread your fucking fingers!”

She obeyed, waiting for the pain of losing them.

“Bring her back in here,” the redhead’s voice came from the other room. “Or do I need to come into that fucking roach-infested kitchen?”

“Keep still,” the man in black whispered, eyes narrowed, knife poised.

“Please!” she cried once more.

“Still!” he roared, and she closed her eyes, keeping her fingers as steady as she could.

There was the clean-cut sound of a knife slicing downwards and Rey jumped as it landed with a thud.

She opened her eyes to see a silver blade wavering between her index and middle finger. And then his feet, perched either side of her, crouched down, breath pressing against her ear, dark wet hair falling onto her cheek.

“I suggest you think very hard about what you will do next. You have two minutes.”

***

“Rey, I—” Poe stammered, his face the colour of curdled milk. “What happened next?”

“He left me there,” she said, taking a shaking breath. “As soon as he was gone, I used the knife to cut the ties on my wrists and then my feet. I jumped out to the fire escape before he came back. The bloody thing almost collapsed. I ran and ran. I don’t know if he saw me go. I didn’t look back.”

Poe bit his lip, eyebrows knitted, like a thought was building that he wasn’t ready to speak yet.

“And then what?”

Rey smiled, face wistful, as she remembered the moment Maz had found her curled up behind a dumpster. The barely-there woman with dark skin and large thick glasses crawled down on her hands and knees to get her. She never did ask Maz how she managed to find her there.

“A woman named Maz Kanata found me, she has a home…"

“…for disadvantaged kids,” Poe finished the sentence, face brightening as he spoke. “Yeah, I know Maz. We go way back.”

Rey took a napkin and dabbed at her eyes. Retelling the full story for the first time had felt cathartic. But she was surprised to find her eyes were still wet with tears.

“How do you know her?”

“I used to work as press secretary with a close friend of hers, Senator Leia Organa-Solo.”

“Senator Organa? That’s big time, Poe,” Rey gushed, before blushing at how pathetic it sounded. “She’s practically a hero.”

“She’s a good woman. Our families have been friends for years,” he said. “Small world, hey?”

Rey nodded, a little more impressed by him.

“I thought Maz only took on younger kids though?” Poe asked.

“Normally she does,” Rey said. “But I think I looked too pathetic. She was amazing, she put me through school during the day and tutored me at night. On the weekend she arranged private self-defence lessons at Skywalker Academy—”

She was rambling, relishing the happy memories that followed. She hadn’t even noticed the way Poe scrunched his face in thought and worry.

“Rey, who is your debt to?”

She shifted. “I—I don’t know.”

“Have you got anything, a business name, email, phone number, anything?” His voice was urgent, pressed.

She shook her head, but then remembered. Fishing around in her bag, she grabbed her wallet and pulled out a crumpled-up note

“All I have is an account number.” She pushed it across the table. “Do you think you can find out who owns it?”

“It’s not much to go on, but maybe.” He pocketed the piece of paper, looking over to the door and eventually behind Rey with a half-smile.

Rey started, feeling two warm hands on her shoulders.

Finn!

She jumped up and gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around him and hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Finn laughed, his broad lips and wide smile settling the fear and worry in her heart.

“I missed you too, peanut!” he joked. “Poe, I have no idea where you’ve put your dictaphone, mate.”

“Oh.” Poe smiled guiltily and exchanged glances with Rey. He stood, leaving a wad of cash on the table. “Not to worry, I’ll find it somewhere. By the way, your girl’s going to work with us on the Snoke story.”

“No, I didn’t say…”

Poe stood suddenly, eyes fixed on some point outside.

“Poe?” Rey asked, but he was transfixed.

“I’ll be goddamned,” Poe said to himself. “It’s Ben.”

“Who—”

Poe dashed out of the cafe without a word.

“Well, that wasn’t weird,” Finn said, grabbing the files and papers Poe had left sprawled all over the table.

Rey smiled. “Is he always like that?”

“Pretty much.”

Finn pulled her close, beaming with excitement.

“Oh my God, peanut! I’m so excited you’re going to work with us.” They walked towards the door, Finn’s arm resting on her shoulders. “I told him you were bloody brilliant. You won’t regret this.”

Rey blushed, punching him gently to stop. Up ahead Poe was waving his hands wildly. Then his booming voice made almost every passerby stop and gawk at him as he bellowed, “Ben Solo, over here!”

In the distance, a tall, dark-haired man, in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, froze on the footpath.

He had his back to her, and even though he looked different, polished and pristine, Rey knew at once.

It was him.

And that meant she held the most dangerous secret of all.

The real identity of Kylo Ren.

#reylo #reylo fan fic #modern reylo au #protective kylo ren #kylo ren x rey #reylo fan fic rec

19 notes · View notes

saccharinedanganimagines · 6 years

Note

I’m sorry if this has been requested before but can I request Shuichi, Rantaro and Kokichi crushing on their soon to be s/o who is like super, frustratingly oblivious and has no idea but everyone else around them can tell. LOVE YOURSELF!

LOVE YOURSELF TOO!!

This is so puuuRE!

~ Mod Ouma

Shuichi, Rantaro and Kokichi Crushing on their Oblivious and soon to be S/O !

Shuichi Saihara

He’s a little thankful that you’re oblivious.

It meant that he didn’t have to face possible confrontation for his feelings any time soon.

He’s content with watching you genuinely smile with him and be friends with him.

He sometimes wonders if he’s a liiiiittle bit masochistic.

Even Shuichi gets a little frustrated at your obliviousness.

When he’s one word close to straight-up confessing to you, he’ll politely excuse himself and go monologue like the soft emo he is somewhere isolated.

There will always be one person witnessing a cute anime moment from you two.

On a rainy day, he once shielded you from being doused by muddy water when a car passed by.

He’ll turn into a blushy, stammering mess whenever you two are studying and you lean closer to help him with a question.

Everyone knowS. Sometimes, one random classmate would come up to him and whisper your ship name to him- he’ll turn into a tomato every time.

Your oblivious nature helps him grow.

He becomes a little braver in admitting his feelings, little by little.

“Hey, S/O! I’m really glad you came to school today.”

He finds comfort in the way you accepted his feelings- even though you didn’t notice the subtext.

“Hm? O-Oh, I’m red but I’m not sick! I’m just… Happy. I’m glad we get to spend time together like this.”

Even you will start to notice how Shuichi became calmer and more composed as you two got closer.

He came to accept his feelings for you and instead focus on keeping you happy- rather than being negative about his indirect rejection.

“S/O? You look down. Do you want to read your favorite book together?”

Eventually, he will gather the courage to ask you out.

But for now… He’s content with seeing you smile and have fun spending time with him.

Shuichi’s hope of becoming someone more than just a friend is granted one day.

Rantaro Amami

This… Is just like the mangas he read…

“Thanks, Rantaro! you’re a really good friend!”

f r i e n D.

Is he… Stuck in a Comedy Shoujo manga…?!

Rantaro thinks your obliviousness is an adorable quirk and he’s pretty chill about it.

He secretly watches out for you, just in case someone tries to take advantage of your unsuspecting nature.

He will try to keep his feelings to himself, he even tries to ignore them.

Though sometimes, he gets unintentionally flirty.

“That’s… So cute. Thanks for reminding me what butterflies feel like, S/O.”

“O-Oh.. Do I look distracted? Sorry. it’s just that I tend to lost my train of thought whenever we’re- Ah, uh nevermind. Sorry, let’s go back to math.”

Every time you unknowingly brush his feelings off, he can’t help but feel like he should find new, silent ways to show you he cares about you.

The differences between knowing him as a friend and becoming his best friend are very distinct.

Back then, the only thing you two did was make small talk and tutor each other. He always seemed so polite and distant.

Rantaro learned how to keep his relationships healthy and stopped trying to distance himself all the time.

He’s supported you through your toughest days. He holds your hand whenever you two hang out and it’s cold outside. His smile became so soft and gentle that it’s hard not to see his own feelings through it.

For him, even something as small as feeling comfortable with telling you minute details about his day was a big step for him.

He won’t say anything unless you confront him, he oddly wants to keep you as happy as you are and he respects your boundaries too much.

But until that day comes, which it does, he’ll want to keep the spot he has in your heart.

A spot that grew and dragged him out of the friendzone one day!

Kokichi Ouma

He may lie a lot, but Kokichi doesn’t like to beat around the bush.

He’s the most frustrated one out of the three.

Literally everyone is dropping hints? He’s been giving you the cutest nicknames ever?? He’s basically attached himself to you by the hip!

He pesters you, so much that you might get a little irritated at him.

“Do you wanna play chess with me? Nishi~ I promise to at least get you one draw!”

“WAAAAAHH! I’M FAILING! Ahem. Hey. I forgot to do my homework, let’s go study together!”

Unknowingly, you help him become a more patient and honest person.

He knows it won’t help if he kept on piling lies, it’ll only confuse or hurt you.

Sometimes, he’ll look at you with the blankest expression ever and realize that you deserve to know that someone cares about you.

Slowly, he starts to abandon his rude and impish persona.

Back then, Kokichi would poke fun at you for small things like tripping or having a bad day. All in an attempt to push you away.

Now… Well, he still teases you.

But he’ll hold your hands, smile fleetingly but ever so genuinely and drag you off to cheer you up in some way.

“You seem sad. C’mon, let’s go to our super secret base and plan world domination together!”

His pranks used to involve pies in the face or dozens of paper snakes exploding out of your locker.

But now, they involve jumping out of nowhere, scaring you, then hugging you afterwards with a teasing apology.

“S/O-chan is so cute~ Nishi, if you keep pouting like that i may just tickle you~”

Everyone notices how affection Kokichi is around you, and you’ll start to see how kindly he treats you compared to others.

There are times when he feels like pulling on his hair and just flat-out telling you how he feels.

He often wonders how he started having a crush on someone as innocent as you.

But his frustration diminishes whenever he grows a little bit closer to you.

Eventually, he will come forward with his feelings. At that point, you would have known too.

He makes sure that you always were clear on his feelings that you never doubt him.

And eventually, you two started to date.

#shuichi saihara #shuichi saihara imagines #rantaro amami #rantaro amami imagines #kokichi ouma #kokichi ouma imagines #kokichi oma #kokichi oma imagines #fluff #crush #omg this was so cute

193 notes · View notes

sarcasmrights · 6 years

Text

The Walls Have Secrets

[ao3]

{i was a part of the shyan exchange over at @shyanwritingevents and my lovely recipient was @sunshinebergara ! thanks for much for the prompt, ella. hope to see you at the next event!}

The autumn wind howls between trees as Ryan, armed to the teeth with absolutely legitimate paranormal investigation equipment, approaches the intimidating wrought-iron gates of the supposedly haunted Vanderbilt Mansion. He eyes the intimidatingly black posts standing between him and the mansion, sizing up how tall they were and if he could climb them or need to find another way onto the grounds. One way or another, he was going to be investigating this abandoned mansion and possibly even helping some poor lost souls move on with their afterlives. The Paranormal Club at his high school will finally be taken seriously and who knows, maybe Ryan will be able to convince his other clubmates to actually come on investigations.

Ryan’s concentration is ruined when a deep chuckle sounds off behind him and he turns, glaring at his investigation partner. Shane stands behind him with only a flashlight and smug grin, obviously here to gloat if Ryan finds no evidence of activity or immediately discredit any evidence Ryan does find. He’s already explained that spirits need a huge amount of energy to even use any of their equipment and if Shane could wipe that stupid smile off his face, he’d really appreciate it. No matter how many times Ryan tries to reason with the skeptic, Shane always brushes him off and mocks his arguments.

“Sorry, sorry, can’t help it. You’re doing it again,” Shane explains, holding his pocketed hands in surrender. “You looked like you were monologuing again in your head.”

“I-I was not! I’m just trying to see if I can climb the gate,” Ryan explains, shining his flashlight on said offending gate to further his point. Shane only scoffs and joins Ryan’s side, also sizing up the gate. They stand there in a tense silence before Ryan huffs, turning off his light. The chain and padlock on the front say they won’t be getting in through this way, and none of them wanted to be caught breaking and entering so bolt cutters were out of the question. He tuts once before turning to start scouring the mansion perimeter when Shane clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, it’s too tall for you to climb, but I’d be able to get over his no problem,” he says and Ryan rolls his eyes, giving Shane another look.

“Yeah? And what’d you do then? Climb back over to make your point?” he asks, a grin tugging at his lips. No matter how annoying Shane can be, the junior always found a way to make him smile. The plus side of having such a skeptic by his side was that Ryan’s nerves were usually kept at a low whenever Shane was around to shout threats at demons and ghosts.

“Exactly.” Shane nods, seeming satisfied before breaking into a laugh. “No, I’m kidding. C’mere Bergara, I’ll get you over the fence.” The skeptic pulls his hands out of his pockets and rubs them together, staring at the top of the fence like it were some goal.

“What’re you talking about, Shane? What, do you have a ladder shoved up your a--” Ryan’s joke is rudely interrupted when Shane casually picks him up by his waist, once again showing off his strength as he carelessly tosses Ryan up against the fence, the poor sophomore screaming as he grabs onto the iron and scrambles up and over the pikes. Once he lands on his hands and knees, Ryan gives himself a pat down before standing, glaring at the smiling Shane through the fence.

“Fuck you, Madej. Just ‘cause I’m a beanpole now doesn’t mean you can throw me around,” he hisses and hates how the casual smirk Shane throws at him makes his heart soar. Ryan steps away from the fence when Shane motions for him too, watching the track star scramble over the fence and land with catlike grace on the other side, looking infuriatingly unfazed.

“Show off,” Ryan mumbles and starts down the decrepit cobblestone driveway, pulling out his camcorder to document what he’s doing. He starts off the recording by recounting how they manage to get over the fence, explaining how they couldn’t find another way onto the mansion grounds so they had to resort to using some athletic skill to--

“I literally picked you up and threw you over,” Shane interrupts, poking his head in the background.

“Will you stop that?” Ryan asks, shooing him away with his arm. Shane ducks and weaves before wiggling his fingers at the camera in a hello. Ryan rolls his eyes before signing off the recording, saying he’ll document more once they reach the mansion.

“So lemme get this straight, you still don’t think you’re vlogging,” Shane says, kicking a stray rock off the path. Ryan gives him another look.

“No, that’s what people on YouTube do. I’m just documenting another paranormal investigation. I’m not pranking whoever I’m dating or pretending people care about what I think about on the internet,” Ryan corrects, adjusting the straps of his backpack. Shane offers an agreeing hum before their conversation cools to a comfortable silence. Ryan looks around the unmaintained lawn, with the trees growing around the perimeter of the fence and tall grass infested with weeds, and figures if they weren’t on an investigation, this would be a pretty nice walk. Maybe he should go on a walk with Shane after all this and just talk.

“Ryan, I gotta tell you something,” Shane says quietly and Ryan flicks his eyes at him to show he’s got his attention.

“I… Why do you keep going on these investigations with me even though you know I don’t believe in ghosts? Like, as funny as it is seeing you scream at any noise the house makes, it’s gotta be boring to have someone just tell you it’s the wind or the house settling.”

Ryan readjusts his hold on his backpack straps and purses his lips. He’s been asking himself the same question since their last investigation, where they went home empty-handed but Ryan’s heart didn’t feel defeated. In fact, it felt great. Shane had made the both of them laugh so hard they wound up crying in the house foyer. Everything had felt a million times less scary last time and Ryan himself knew the location couldn’t have been too haunted, his hairs weren’t standing on end.

Still, he had been hopeful and having an entire night of no activity would usually leave him morose. In the beginning, when Shane had asked to join the Paranormal Club, Ryan had thought he’d come to mock them and poke any holes he could find in their evidence. Shane had poked some holes, yeah, but it was on all the flimsy evidence. Otherwise, he’s been patient and admits when he doesn’t have the scientific answer to some of the phenomena the club presented.

“I dunno,” Ryan settles for, but when Shane doesn’t seem too happy with the answer, he quickly adds, “I just think you… keep me calm when I’m really scared, y’know? Like, if I had to do this with anyone else, they’d probably scream with me or try to split up and we’d end up in some straight to DVD horror B movie.” He shrugs to punctuate that that’s all Ryan can say and Shane seems placated by it, turning away for a second. Ryan tries to peek at what Shane is staring at but can’t find anything.

“What?” he asks and Shane turns back to him, obviously smothering a grin.

“I-It’s nothing, it’s just… That was pretty cute coming from you,” Shane explains and Ryan retaliates by shining his flashlight in his face, relishing the surprised yelp and leaving Shane to rub his eyes in favor of approaching the grand doors to the Vanderbilt estate. Shane catches up with him and stares at the doors with him.

“Well damn, if we can’t find any ghosts tonight, at least we found a house with style,” he quips and Ryan laughs, shining his light on the intricate details of the doors and archway. Shane’s right, just the front door gave off the old money vibe. It would be a dream to live in something as expensive as the mansion.

“Yeah, right? I’m tempted to just spend the night here to live that luxury life,” Ryan says before squatting so he’s eye level with the doorknob. It doesn’t look too complicated a lock, but again they don’t want to be caught breaking and entering so they might have to scale to the second floor to test out any windows to see if they’re open. Worse comes to worse, Ryan did bring that lockpick kit his aunt had bought him for Christmas so they could always jimmy the handle and--

Shane reaches over and turns the weathered gold knob, pushing the door open. Ryan is greeted by the sight of a dusty and eerie foyer, a dull crystal chandelier hanging overhead. He quickly stands from his squat and licks his lips, his nerves finally catching up to him. The beams from their flashlights dance over cobwebs and dust particles that likely haven’t moved for months until Shane threw open the door. Ryan drags his light up the grand staircase and finds a chill running over his spine as he meets eyes with each painted portrait lining the walls where the stairway splits into two directions. Their eyes bore right through him and into his soul, and suddenly Ryan feels too aware that people like him weren’t entirely welcomed into the mansion.

A sudden punctuated thud shakes Ryan from his mindspace and he glances over at Shane, who’s pointedly stuck his foot into the mansion. The worried look in Shane’s eyes manages to steady Ryan’s screaming nerves and he quickly clears his throat, following after Shane and stepping into the foyer, albeit a little quieter.

“You okay there?” Shane asks, much softer than his usually boisterous personality. Ryan nods, trying to breathe and ignore how chilly it is inside the mansion compared to the outside. It would suggest that paranormal activity would be active in this house and Ryan doesn’t know whether to scream in excitement or agony at the idea of being on a ghost’s stomping grounds. Either way, they have to investigate the mansion, and Ryan summons every ounce of courage within himself to lead them past the foyer.

Shane is oddly silent behind Ryan as they veer off into the home, just occasionally swinging his flashlight beam around and making a comment about how old a man looked in his painted portrait. Ryan isn’t sure what he prefers, the Shane who makes crude remarks about the infrastructure of a house or the Shane that is actually quiet and lets Ryan do his documentations in peace.

After walking up to the second floor, Ryan is sure he misses the Shane who uses his big mouth because that would have masked the sounds of each creaky step seemingly echoing throughout the house. Still, Ryan makes no comment about Shane’s behavior and only hopes he’ll find his ghost hating groove soon.

“Little uh… Little chilly in here, huh?” Ryan says as they meander down a long corridor. It sounds horribly obvious that Ryan is trying to reach out to Shane but he’s drawing a blank on how to get his skeptic friend back to normal. Wait, what if Shane’s acting differently because he’s been possessed by something from the mansion? What if he’s actually trapped inside his body and trying to scream at Ryan to run? What if Ryan’s stuck in a horror B movie and he’ll have to try and kill his friend and--

“Yeah, but not as cold as Ms. McLaughlin’s heart for giving me a fail on that chem test,” Shane fires back and Ryan manages a relieved laugh, nudging Shane’s arm. He laughs even harder when Shane nudges him back and they get into a battle of shoulders checks, which somehow forces Ryan to stumble into another room, the door almost swinging open for him as he trips over his own feet and winds up smacking flat on his ass.

“Oh, Jesus. Ryan, are you okay?” Shane worriedly asks, rushing after him into the room, hands already outstretched to help him up. Ryan gladly takes the hands and dusts himself off, looking around the dark room, shining his flashlight at all the corners.

Tall bookcases line two of the walls, leaving the wall closest to the door empty and the one opposite of that blank as well. A well-used writing desk sits next to the door, dusty bulbless lamp standing next to it. Ryan feels something tug at the back of his brain as he continues processing the room, something important…

“Ryan, lookit this!” Shane calls, now on the other side of the room. Ryan swings his light at him and watches as Shane slowly raises a large rectangular panel and reveals an uncomfortably small elevator, or a--

“Dumbwaiter. It’s a dumbwaiter,” Ryan whispers under his breath as he manages his way over to Shane, sticking closer to his friend’s side as his brain continues to dig at whatever is nagging his mind.

“Well, it’s decently sized for a dumbwaiter. I bet you could fit in this, with how tiny you are,” Shane says and nudges at Ryan again, to which Ryan just gives him a look before breaking into a smile and nudging him back. They continue their little nudge battle before it suddenly dawns upon Ryan, his face going ghostly pale.

“Should be decently sized if it’s meant for something bigger than food,” Ryan says and Shane gives him a look, staring at the dumbwaiter before back at Ryan, waiting for him to continue. The sophomore only swings his flashlight around the room, eyes finally seeing the study and, with a sharper focus, realizing that some of the lower shelves of the bookcases didn’t seem to be attached to the entire units.

Ryan’s legs shake as he makes his way over to one and feels underneath a shelf, finding a handle and, with a dreading heart, slowly pulls. The shelf moves with screams of protest, having not been used for some decades. Ryan ignores how the sounds make his heart shake and continues to pull, revealing a long steel table, none too different from an operating table.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Shane offers, peeking over Ryan’s shoulder and at the table. There are some suspiciously colored stains on the table and Ryan has to turn away as his mind relentlessly recalls facts about servants going into the study at the call of their master and never leaving. Or how the mansion had been vacated because the youngest twins, barely five, had somehow vanished from the property, their bodies never found.

“I-I… This is where he must’ve… killed people, I guess,” Ryan manages out and looks up at Shane, who glances down at him before back at the table.

“Well…” Shane begins but doesn’t finish, preferring to let the sentence die in the air. Ryan turns back to the table before swinging his backpack around his side, unzipping a pocket and pulling out a device that makes Shane groan.

“Not the spirit box, Ryan. That thing doesn’t work, and it sounds like the stupid ‘white noise’ machine my mom uses to go to sleep and keeps the rest of the house awake,” he begs, and Ryan catches him sigh and throws his lanky arms into the air as he fiddles to turn the device on. He’s standing in a room with the worst energy in the entire house, of course he has to turn on the box. If there’s anyone left here, trapped in the study, then he has to at least attempt to help them.

“Here,” Ryan says and passes the camera to Shane, who takes it while grumbling under his breath, turning it on and pointing it at Ryan. He nods when Ryan looks at him for confirmation, and Ryan secretly wishes he didn’t but steels his heart. Shane’s here, and if he can manage to prove that spirits exist, then it’ll all be worth it.

It’ll all be worth it, Ryan chants to himself before turning on the box, filling what feels like the entire mansion with static noise. It picks up a few garbled chunks of radio before settling into the jumbled white noise. Ryan swallows and looks uncertainly at nothing in particular.

“Hello? Is there anybody with us? I’m Ryan, that’s Shane.” Ryan gestures at Shane, who wiggles his fingers. “We’re uh… We’re here to help you if you’re… stuck here,” Ryan trails off, unsure of what else to say. His fingers are slick from holding the spirit box with a vicelike grip and there’s an eternal silence before a word punctuates through the noise.

“H’llo…. Ry… Shin…”

“Hoooly shit!” Ryan yelps, wanting nothing more than to drop the box but his grip remained steadfast. Still... “Holy shit! They said our names! Someone said our names! Hello? That’s our names!”

“Sounded like they called me a shin,” Shane mumbles behind the camera and Ryan ignores him, the skeptic talk getting swept away by the tidal wave of awe and fear rolling through him. A spirit had spoken to them! Someone had attempted to communicate!

“N’d… help…”

“O-Oh, okay. H-How do you need help?” Ryan asks, staring at the box as if it were a sentient creature. It could very well be at this point, whoever is speaking to them is obviously intelligent enough to return conversation. Holy shit, Ryan is still reeling from getting a legitimate response, and on camera too.

“Help… B’d… man come… -ing. Hide.”

The hide rang clear as day and Ryan feels his blood, still pounding through his veins, run abnormally cold. He looks at Shane with the fear of God in his eyes and they stare at one another for a hot second before Ryan bursts into movement. He shuts off the spirit box and swears he can hear footsteps echoing down the corridor. Fuck, they didn’t even close the door.

“Hold on there, little guy. Hold… Ryan, you’re seriously not doing what a ghost tells you ri--”

There’s a rather obvious thud down the hall and that shuts Shane up. Thank God, because Ryan didn’t know how he would’ve convinced Shane to do anything. Now, his friend is scrambling to throw the camera into his bag and trying to find a place to hide. Ryan’s eyes jump from surface to surface as he too struggles to find somewhere.

Underneath the desk is too short and narrow, Shane wouldn’t be able to dream of fitting. The steel tables have only millimeters of space between the top of the table and the bottom of the bookshelf, there’s no place except for--

“Get in the dumbwaiter,” Ryan hisses and pushes Shane towards it. It would be uncomfortably close for the both of them, but it’s the best place to hide inside of the study, so they’ll both just have to deal with it until whatever threat looming on them passes. Shane makes a noise of protest but stumbles back into the dumbwaiter, tucking his gangly legs inside. Ryan manages to sneak his legs on each side of Shane’s waist and he’s hunched over so Shane’s face is level with his chest. He pulls the panel down and holds his breath, sinking both of them in a darkness broken only by the thinnest sliver of faint moonlight. Both of their flashlights are off and Ryan can hear Shane breathing heavily, shushing his friend and putting a finger on his lips.

Each thud sounds like a rolling wave of thunder, growing closer and closer, Ryan’s heart beat faster and faster with every step he hears. It feels like an eon until the steps start to fade away, as if they were continuing down the hall and finally leaving them alone. Ryan lets out a happy sigh of relief and slumps, forgetting he and Shane were on top of each other and nearly collapsing on top of his friend.

“Oh, sorry,” Ryan whispers and tries to shift, only succeeding in awkwardly shuffling their legs and hips together. Shane doesn’t say a word, just remaining stock still underneath him. Ryan reaches for the panel to open up the dumbwaiter, more than happy to gets some fresh air, when his fingers find nothing. He tries again, reaching for the little hole that could lift the wooden panel, trying to sink his finger into it but still finding nothing.

“What the fuck?” Ryan asks and turns on his flashlight, blinding the both of them and apologizing when he hears Shane wince and turn away. There’s no hole. No panel. Nothing.

“What the fuck, what the fuck?” Ryan asks, starting to freak out himself. He fumbles against the panel one more time, only to find no seam that would let him think they’re in a dumbwaiter. It’s like there’s just wall now.

“Oh my God we’re stuck,” Ryan gasps out and suddenly, a hand grabs his wrist and Ryan flinches, looking down to meet Shane’s wide scared eyes. The hand holding his wrist is trembling and Shane licks his lips before opening them.

“We’re what?” he asks, voice far from the bravado he exerted before. Ryan looks down at Shane with his own scared eyes before back at the blank wall.

“I think we’re stuck,” he whispers and Shane lets out a pained noise, hand tightening around Ryan’s wrist. Ryan looks back down at his friend and sees the noticeable fear singing in his eyes, his hand trembling even now. Shane tries to shift once and finds himself too gangly to do much more than bang his head against the side of the dumbwaiter.

“H-Hey, it’s alright big guy,” Ryan starts, slowly attempting to unravel his hand from Shane’s grip, only to find it ironclad. Alright, plan B then. Ryan brings their now conjoined arms so they rested on Shane’s stomach and draws circles on the back of Shane’s hand, struggling for something to say. Shane has his eyes closed and breathing irregularly, body occasionally twitching as he obviously works to calm himself down.

“Hey, Shane?” Ryan asks and he only gets a soft and impatient “hm?” in return. Ryan continues to thumb Shane’s hand before reaching forward and resting his palm on Shane’s shoulder. That makes Shane open his eyes and look right into Ryan’s, where Ryan can see his attempts to calm down are failing.

“It’s okay, big guy. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get through this together,” he promises, with a put-together feeling he doesn’t have. Ryan continues staring at Shane until his friend nods weakly, his grip loosening just the slightest. They stay staring for a second longer before the dumbwaiter lurches down, to which Shane lets out a shout of fear and drags Ryan towards him, hugging him all too tightly as Ryan himself tries to breathe.

It’s not a sudden drop by any means, but the dumbwaiter is definitely moving. Ryan thought the electricity had gone out in the home, but apparently not. Maybe it’s on for tours but it’s the offseason…

Ryan’s mind continues to race through explanations, something he’s picked up since working with Shane, when he realizes his friend is shaking harder than a leaf in the wind. Shane’s arms are pinning him against his chest, and Ryan feels like the stuffed animal a child would clutch if they were scared. Any attempts to talk to Shane are fruitless and Ryan struggles to find a way to calm his friend down. Seeing Shane so… afraid feels awful, like a gross mold growing in his stomach that just wants to infest him until Shane’s better.

Ryan wiggles one of his arms out and reaches up, gently stroking Shane’s hair back from his forehead. He keeps at it until Shane has stopped visibly shaking, his eyes slowly opening and seeing Ryan once again. Ryan only offers a faint smile and Shane closes his eyes again, this time breathing a sigh of relief through his nose.

“Hey Shane,” Ryan whispers. “I’m here for you man. Nothing’s gonna stop me from being here for you. You’re good, just stay with me.” His voice is as steady as a rock and as soothing as the ocean water on a hot summer day. Ryan’s surprised with himself, feeling much calmer than the situation should allow him. His fingers just continue threading through Shane’s hair and soon enough, Shane reopens his eyes and languidly blinks at him.

“...I was locked in my closet when I was a kid,” he whispers and Ryan’s heart aches for how soft and fragile his tone is. He attempts to sit up just a bit, where he’s resting his arms across Shane’s chest so they both can breathe a bit better. Shane allows it, his arms no longer a vice holding Ryan flush against him.

“My brother locked me in there, thinking it was funny but then forgot about going to his sports practice. Mom and Dad were at work, and I was left alone for hours. Hours, Ryan. I tried screaming until my voice was hoarse, I tried kicking down the door, I tried crying… Nothing worked. And I was a kid so everything in there was out to get me. My toys weren’t my friend anymore, my clothes just felt like someone trying to get me.” Shane closes his eyes and breathes in a shuddering breath. Ryan is hooked with every word, understanding finally blooming in his mind. God, what a shitty older brother, no wonder Shane had freaked out.

“My parents found me though, and grounded the fuck out my brother,” Shane says, obviously attempted to joke. Ryan grins back at him and laughs softly. They stare at each other for a second longer before Shane swallows and looks away.

“Ryan, I gotta tell you something,” Shane mumbles and Ryan’s struck with deja vu. Shane’s nervous energy swells in the dumbwaiter, nearly suffocating Ryan but he instinctually takes Shane’s hand and thumbs the back of it, waiting for him to continue.

“I… The entire reason I joined the ghost hunting club was so I could make fun of you guys, a-at first! At first. I thought it was funny people still believed in ghosts but then we started going on our investigations and… Honestly, I only wanted to stay for like a week at most, but then you started bringing me to places. And we just… I realized that…” Shane swallows thickly and finally manages to drag his eyes to meet Ryan’s.

“I realized that I really like you. Like, like like you.”

The dumbwaiter comes to a slow and gentle halt and Ryan’s heart does the same, freezing midbeat. His mind stops racing at a million miles per hour and suddenly everything around them is silent. Nothing to disturb them. Nothing to scare them. Just the two of them, stuck in a dumbwaiter, which isn’t the best time to confess to someone, but Shane was never the “best time” kind of guy to Ryan.

“I like you, Ryan Bergara. I knew that the second you screamed at a mouse running across the floor the first time we went ghost hunting,” Shane repeats, breaking the silence. The nervous energy is back and Ryan only sinks further down until he’s centimeters away from Shane’s face, which makes him finally shut up.

“Cool,” Ryan says and presses their lips together.

Shane’s lips are the slightest bit chapped but they feel soft against Ryan’s. Shane attempts to kiss back and Ryan smiles against the slightly awkward movements, guiding Shane into a real kiss, coaxing him into slow slides of their lips and the slightest teasing of tongue. Those arms wrap back around Ryan’s waist, holding him fast once again but for a completely different reason.

For a second they completely forget they’re stuck inside a dumbwaiter, happy to entertain and distract each other with kissing. Shane finds his own rhythm, much to Ryan’s joy and surprise, because his friend happens to be quite the kisser when he’s confident. He lets out a surprised noise when Shane starts to sit up, which is immediately followed by Shane knocking his head against the side of the box. They break apart as Shane winces and Ryan knocks his own head against the roof.

“Fuck this, let’s get out of here,” Ryan says and Shane nods in agreement. Ryan shines a light on the panel and finds the hole where it should be, lifting the panel up. They’re back on the first floor, the dumbwaiter leading to the kitchen. Ryan squeezes himself out and lets out a blessed sigh, his legs thankful for the stretch. Shane unfolds from the dumbwaiter behind him, making a noise as he cracks and pops things back into place.

“Fuck this place,” Shane says under his breath and Ryan nods in agreement, happy to make for the kitchen exit. They make it to the hallway before they’re caught by a beam of light.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?!” someone shouts behind the beam and Ryan freezes in place, suddenly unable to execute the exit plan he’d so carefully crafted. It’s only when Shane grabs his wrist and tugs does Ryan get the message.

“Run!” he shouts and they bolt through the rest of the house, across the large entryway, leaving the dusty portraits in their wake, Ryan throwing a middle finger at them as they burst through the grand doors. Fuck the Vanderbilt Mansion and most importantly, fuck that dumbwaiter. Fuck ghosts, fuck sneaking into place.

The mansion disappears as Ryan and Shane round corners and take shortcuts into streets they don’t quite know, but both sport large grins on their face. Somehow, they make it to the street corner by Ryan’s house before they stop, winded and wheezing against the stop sign there. Shane is clutching the pole above Ryan’s head and they both can’t stop laughing at the stupid shit they got caught doing. It’s like something out of a campy high school coming of age movie and Ryan can’t help but start composing a script for it all.

“Well, guess we can never go back there again,” Shane manages through his laughs and Ryan nods along, looking up at his friend.

Shane grins back at him, all charm and suave again. Ryan likes that part of him, as well as the scared Shane who clutched him like a lifeline, and the Shane who knows what to do and when to do it. Ryan really likes all parts of Shane.

“I like you too,” Ryan says and that shuts Shane’s laughter up, the man standing up straight like he’d been struck by lightning. Shane looks down at Ryan with stars in his eyes and Ryan grins back up at him.

“Cool,” Shane replies and leans down, Ryan catching his lips once again.

He can feel Shane’s smile against his lips, and he’s sure Shane can feel his smile too.

#shyanexchange2k18 #shyan #shyanwritingevents #shyanlibrary #skeptic believer #thanks for the opportunity friends!#hopefully i'll write more for this fandom #i just love it sm

30 notes · View notes

thebritishblabbermouth · 6 years

Text

BTS as boyfriends: Jimin

Here's my version of Jimin as a boyfriend. Let me how what you think of it :))

Click here to read:

Suga as a boyfriend

Jungkook as a boyfriend

1. Cliché starts

This lil fluff ball... He's the definition of a picture perfect cliche and you wouldn't have it any other way. Because people often forget how amazing being a part of one is. Him asking you out won't take you by surprise because he'd have spent the last month in strategic meetings with yoongi, Jin and Joonie. He'll keep mentioning how he needs to '' have a meeting with his hyung cause of the new album'' and jungkook and taehyung would just howl and laugh their heads off as he gave his excuses to you. Youre patiently waiting for him to muster up courage to ask you out. And boy does this one go all out... Its a candle lit dinner with brilliant food and the mochi looks flipping delectable. And when hes just about to start his monologue he just looks at you and stills because... Holy moly aren't you perfect. You're all dressed up and pretty for this date... All beautiful just for him and hes all emotional because no one's ever dressed up just for him? He's forgotten his speech completely and he's smitten all over again. But then he hears jungkook and tae laugh in the background and springs into action... Blurting out his proposal entirely.. 11/10 thinks youre gonna say no... But you just peck his cheek and whisper a yes. He melts right there... Tae and jungkook are shook while the hyung like says '' finally'' and walks off to nap... Smiles on their faces.

2. Cuteness

What. A. Bean. Asdfghjkl idek.

The first 10 dates... He's got written itineraries and a list of places he wants to take you. You think ''how does he have time for all of this'' but what you don't know is that he's staying up till 3 am googling '' perfect ideas for dates'' and making notes in his little black book as he goes. Its gotta be perfect. By the 10th date - and mind you these dates are spectacular, flipping first class dates full of photos and food and funny moments- you realise he's exhausted. It takes an effort to make things so perfect and he's so tired but happy because you're so happy. And just as he texts you to ask you out on your 11th date... You beat him to it and ask him to come over because you've planned something for him. Lil bug comes over the next day and sees a pillow Fort, loads of snacks, you in his large hoodie patting the space next to you so that he can relax and chill and just calm down. A few movies later and you see him almost dropping onto your shoulder and you can't help but kiss his forehead and bring him into your lap. He's so tired he didn't even stir you just rake your hands through his head because it's so damn soft. I see you two talking about him being so tried when he wakes up.. And he admits to planning such extravagant dates because he wants to be the best boyfriend ever.. You smile and tell him you'd love him regardless of what the dates were... Even if they werent that well planned because you don't love the dates.. You love that he's with you. He's all emotional but understands completely and makes sure to find time for sleep dates and walking dates and fun dates too.

3. Calm and cool

He actually strikes me as someone who has a lot of patience? Like he gets mad and everything but he's letting it go in his mind more than you think? I think he's actually quite unsure of himself at times and realises early on that you are too... He's smart like that... He doesn't just keep telling you you're beautiful (at the beginning of the relationship he does because he feels beautiful when he's with you but after the honeymoon period) he says it to you when you feel really ugly. He pulls out his own scars and battle wounds to show you when you think you look stupid and he'll remind you that it's okay to look bad once in a while... That tomorrow you'll be back to looking beautiful. He knows what it feels like to be under pressure... Knows what it's like to push yourself until you're about to cry. He doesn't take you away from your work when he feels like you're about to snap... He just hugs you. Right there.. On the floor.. With all your stuff pooling around you.. And you might scream and shout in his ear demanding him to let you go but he won't. He's your anchor. You'll sob into his shoulders cause of the stress and he'll just keep mumbling pretty things into your ears... Letting you know that he's got you and that you're safe and that you can always get back to your work after his power hugs. He'll sit by your side until you finish up... He's your anpanman and he's there to stay.

4. Arguments

He gets riled up, frustrated and angry when things don't go his way. Sometimes he cools like ice when you waltz into his studio, pull him into a hug and feed him food... Other times he's screaming at you to leave. But you see it in his eyes that he's regretting everything... The screams and the shouts mean nothing and he's begging you not to take it to heart... But he's got to vent. So you just walk up to him.. Kiss his cheek and leave. He comes home late at night.. Sorry as hell... But you welcome him with open arms... And he lays there pouring his heart out and apologising. Everything is okay and you sleep in each others arms. But then aside from this I feel that sometimes he really does get mad and you can't read his eyes well... Those days are the worst because you don't know whether to walk away or whether to kiss it better? You choose the first option, give him space to sort stuff out. He's back to you in no time and you're reconciliating and making up for lost time.

5. Moves and countermoves

He loves that you're a little tease. Loves that you love to dance around in his clothes only so he can push you to the nearest wall and rip them off. But he also loves it when it's nice and slow...candles and their dim light make him fall in love with how you look even more. Loves it when you wake him up with kisses and is totally the type to cuddle at night and be back at it in the morning. He says he hates it when you casually spank him.. But you know he loves it. Its like a game between the two of you and it's funny as hell. I see shyness at first but then later on I see him completely baring himself to you... And being Proud of the fact that he did. You don't ever call him cute in bed... Simply cause he's not... He's a hot bug just for you.

All in all... 300% boyfriend material... Sits you between his legs and you're both reading your books... And you show him something from yours that's well written and he does the same... He's got his arms around you and he's playing with that string couple bracelet the two of you bought on some date. Youre threading through the one on yours. You've got games on the console for later and loads of food in the fridge... He's picking you up in his arms when you're too tired to walk and hes a living snuggler. Can't sleep away from you which is why fights don't last long. Kisses to the back of your head... Running his hands through your hair.

Forehead pecks. Loves it when you need him for something.

Please protect him like he does you. Boy needs to feel loved and appreciated and will definitely give you double the amount in return.

#romance #fluff #Jimin #BTS #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts #bts jimin #BTS as boyfriends #BTS love #bangtanfic #bangtan fic rec #BTS imagines #BTS reactions #BTS stories

17 notes · View notes

animeniac · 7 years

Text

Sharing Our Love: Proposal

Fandom: BNHA Pairing: Midoriya x Asui Genre: Romance Chapter Summary: Asui tried to propose to Midoriya, but he wants to be the one to do it at his own slow pace. A/N: Midoriya is such a badass. I love him. In this story, he’s still only 18. If this does alright, then I might make another part. I don’t think I could bare to write my cinnamon rolls making a baby cinnamon bun, though. lol

Out at the mall, Midoriya and Asui cruised the vast aisles as they casually window shopped. Since graduating, they hardly had down time to simply enjoy each other's company. While their hands stayed separated, they walked within inches of each other. Perhaps, of all the couples in the city, they had scant moments of physical affection, but the nearness satisfied them both.

Precocious adults yet awkward teenagers, they still enjoyed visiting the mall on their downtime. Their introverted nature lent to their reserved demeanors; however, they appreciated the company of the crowds of people of the city that they protected. Fortunately, since they recently, unofficially moved in together, they could spend nights cuddled a little closer together without their public inhibitions.

Forever echoed in Asui's heart as she stared up at a billboard that hung from the vaulted, class ceiling. In her mind, she read, "Spend forever together in harmony, happiness, and love." That would be nice. She liked all those aspects of her relationship. They had begun dating at the end of their first year of high school, and she wanted their moments to be endless. However, between their busy schedules of trying to succeed with their careers as heroes, she wanted to find solace with him in their hectic worlds as often as she could.

A chill shot up Midoriya's spine as he looked over to his partner to trace her line of sight. He sensed a candid remark at the tip of her tongue and tried to prepare himself until he spotted the billboard at the top of the building.

"Midoriya." She blinked as her stare lingered. "Do you want to get -?"

Jumping, Midoriya nearly pushed her over when he covered her mouth while allowing air to come through her fingers. "I'm sorry for doing this. I hope I'm not getting ahead of myself, but it sounded like you were gonna say something really crazy. Blink twice if what you were going to say happened to be a life long commitment relating to our relationship and succeeds moving in together and precedes something like a big party or ceremony or something."

Hesitant, she wondered why something so natural to her was so crazy to him. A lump developed in her throat as she contemplated her confirmation. Did he not want marriage? Maybe he feared such a distraction, and she certainly didn't want that for him. Suddenly, she regretted saying anything about the subject. However, to honestly answer him, she blinked twice.

He grimaced and averted his eyes to the ground while still holding his trembling hands over her mouth. He desperately begged, "Tsuyu, please. I want to be the one to say something like that. You were the one that first confessed and asked me out and 'frog kissed' me and you even conventionally k-kissed me. At least, allow me to ask such a big question, please?"

Her eyelids sunk, and she frowned as she blinked twice. Maybe she had been dominant up until that point. Gently pushing his hands away, she nodded and pushed her finger to her chin, "I understand that you want to be the one to propose."

A red blush engulfed his face as he frantically moved his hands around his face and gripped his chest. "If you say it like that, then I might die," he whimpered as he gripped his heart. He exhaled his nervous energy and chuckled up at her.

Would he truly be able to ask something like that? Asui figured she would have to be patient.

As time went by, she swore that he teased her. One night after a long day of heroic duty, she crashed at his place. Coming from the bedroom with a hand in his pocket, he approached her in the living room with watery eyes. "Tsuyu, do you want to ma-," he began and pulled out his empty hand to cover his face as he sneezed. "Do you want to make dinner, or should we order take-out? I'd make it, but I'm kind of feeling sick for some reason."

Was he nervous? Did her dull stare unnerve him? That had to be a joke! She sighed and nodded, "Sure, Midoriya, ribbit. I'll cook tonight."

Midoriya neared her and spotted her furrowed eyebrow. He apologized, "Sorry, is that too much to ask? I know you had a long day, too."

"It's fine. I know you like the food that I make. I could cook for you forever," she replied as she strode to the kitchen. Of all her years, that may have been the first subtle hint that she ever dropped in her life.

Sweat slid down her temple. How soon did she want to marry him? The impatience and anxiety that drove her heart startled her. Their relationship had been slow for the most part. They had certainly never consummated their love, but she kissed him a full year after they confessed their feelings for one another. That delay might have been her fault. Her unnerved heart had initially rejected his advances for a real kiss and she requested a frog kiss with a tongue to her cheek instead.

The next day, his stuttering rattled her heart when he asked, "Tsuyu, w-w-will you go with me to the grocery store? I know it's a lot to ask, but I always forget the ingredients that you want. You could probably just make a list, though, I suppose. But, you know, it might be nice to get out of the apartment."

Dread shaded her face as she froze in place and rigidly forced her head to nod. Shame reddened her as she turned away. He had always had a habit of pushing her emotions to the brink and could sometimes bring her deepest emotions to the forefront of her facade.

On the way out the door that same night, he had a build-up when he said, "I've been meaning to ask you for a long time. I know we've been dating for a few years, but I feel comfortable enough with you. I think it's time I ask: Tsuyu, will you put the ketchup in the refrigerator after you finish with it? W-We can get two bottles if that's what you want. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Let's do that. I guess you prefer room-temperature ketchup."

If Asui didn't speak her mind then, she would never say anything. While they walked to the grocery store, she asked, "Do you think you could marry someone like me?"

Sweat cascaded down his body as he trembled, he knew she brought this topic up more casually. However, his nerves betrayed him and convulsed his entire body as they walked down the streets of their city. He cleared his throat and nodded, "Well, I love you, so something like that seems natural, don't you think? Why do you ask?"

"I thought you were going to propose sooner than it's been since we first started talking about it," she confessed. Picking her words carefully, she continued, "Do you want something like that?"

"Yeah, of course, Tsuyu," Midoriya frantically nodded as he scratched the back of his neck. "Waking up next you; eating with you; sharing our l-love; Those are things that I look forward to when I'm out on duty."

Asui failed to expect such a suggestive phrase from Midoriya. Her body stiffed as she repeated, "S-Sharing our love? What does that mean?"

His face burst into redness again as sweat jumped from flustered expression. "Not what you think! Sorry, you know me. I overthink everything, and I take things like milestones slowly because you're important to me. I want the night to be perfect for when I ask you," he sighed as he looked up at the full moon in the sky. "I can't cut to the chase, but that's one of the things I like about you."

And Asui liked that she could read everything he thought and felt up until this situation. They continued walking, and she wanted to resume the conversation as well, "Do you think marrying me will mean we rush everything? We're only 18. That wouldn't be too much for you, would it?"

Midoriya kept checking his phone for a solid minute as he shared his attention with the moon. Stammering he panted as sweat coated his body, "Um, no, definitely not. I look forward to it, Tsuyu. It's just - I don't know. Jeez." Stopping in his tracks, he saw the lights of the grocery store on the corner and furrowed his eyebrows as he nodded at her.

Knowing this could be his last breath for a while, he took a deep inhalation of air before he dropped down to his knees and pulled out a velvet, black box with a sizeable white diamond ring inside.

"W-What? Now? Ribbit. W-Wait," stuttered Asui as her heart jumped. She pushed him too far! Last time she urged him like that, he ended up fainting. However, once she spotted the determination in his round eyes, she allowed her reaction to run wild. Butterflies in her stomach, she calmed as she stared into his forest green eyes. Only he could see her tremble and stutter like she did, and she enjoyed the earthly sensations that he inspired in her.

Whenever he gained such a serious glint in his eyes, she melted.

In his longest, drawn out rant, he blurted, "I was going to leave you here and go back to the apartment and make some food and light some candles then come back and get you but I guess that's stupid because cooking would have taken too long and the candles could have started a fire so I'll just do it here. Is this okay? Grocery stores aren't romantic but I guess our apartment isn't either. Oh yeah, by the way, you should permanently move in with me, too if you want. Anyway, t-there's something else I think I'm forgetting to ask. Um, is that okay? How about the ring. I made sure it would fit."

Knowing him for years, she knew how to handle these hardly sensical monologues of his. Getting down on her knees as well, she rested her hands on his shaking shoulders and tilted her head down to focus her eyes on his. "Look at me, Midoriya," she calmly whispered. "You forgot to tell me what you wanted to do after you give that ring to me."

Without tears or stuttering or stammering, he held his composure and smiled, "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she tersely agreed with a nod.

"Is it okay if I cry? That won't ruin anything, right?" asked Midoriya as tears streamed down his face. When she shook her head, he gently pulled the small of her waist towards him as they both knelt on the floor. He closed his eyes and following a much-needed breath, he kissed her. His arms inched up her spine as he carefully arched her back to deepen his passionate display of affection.

After allowing his passion to run its course, he pulled away for breath as his hooded gaze lingered on his fiancee's stoic, smiling face. He had delighted in the hues of color that passed through her throughout the day, but to know that he may have quelled the turmoil in her heart satisfied him beyond belief.

Asui inquired, "Who is supposed to ask who when we're ready to have children?"

"I know we're adults now, and we graduated, but I think we should hold off on that for a little while. I do want to have kids with you, so don't worry, but I probably won't be ready for a really long time. I want to be a top pro hero first, you know?" Midoriya explained as his head spun.

"I'm joking, ribbit," added Asui as she rested her head on her lover's shoulder and nuzzled her face into his neck. As she figured, she could hear his heart race.

"Joking, yeah, haha. You like to do that a lot."

They waited to have children, but not for as long as Midoriya initially thought.

A clerk came from the grocery store. "Are you kids going to buy anything?"

"S-She said we can wait for that!" Midoriya immediately replied in a heated fluster.

#midoriya x asui #izuku x tsuyu #midotsuyu #bnha #boku no hero academia #sorry main tag #incoming ship #midoriya izuku #asui tsuyu #izuyu #staggers online and drunkenly submits this to midotsuyu week literally over a week late

164 notes · View notes

quillreflections · 4 years

Text

Title: Stadium Arcadium

Chapter: 2

Series: Yugioh Zexal

Pairing: Kite/reader

Stranger things have happened, both before and after noon.

"Kite, are you sure about her?"

"Absolutely not. On one hand, yeah, her parents worked for Heartland, they helped develop a lot of what we use today," Kite runs his hand across the transparent screen floating in front of his face, and the page flips, "but on the other hand, if her dad could snap like that, who's to say she won't either?" His eyes roamed your duelist data. "I don't want Hart to be anywhere near that when it happens."

"If it happens." Dextra corrects the young man. "I met her parents a few times; I really don't think her father could have done something like that."

Kite's gaze darts over to her. They're camped out in the security room again, digging through recent footage and files on Heartland's newest hire, Dextra playing along to sate Kite's protective curiosity. He looks back to the information in front of him. "There's very little data on her deck usage. Can you find any footage of her dueling? Her d-pad identification code is-"

As he rattles off the string of numbers, Dextra inputs them into the computer system, pulling up all duel feeds with that code registered. ". . . there isn't much here, either, but at least it's something." She plays the short clips in order, with Kite leaning over the shoulder of her chair in order to get a closer look. He's so deep in his own thoughts, he doesn't notice the movement on the current feeds.

"Kite, isn't that her now?"

He blinks and turns to another screen. Sure enough, there you are, standing in the tower lobby. Kite mutters something in frustration- since you'd been here so late last night and then gotten here so early this morning, he hadn't had the chance to inform Hart yet. He ducks out of the room to where he'd left Orbital 7 in the hallway.

"Go get her and bring her up."

"Y-y-yes sir, Master Kite!"

☆☆☆☆☆

"Brother-?" Although typically expressionless, Hart's eyes have confusion buried in them. Usually when he wakes up, Kite is already gone for the day. "You're not going to be in trouble for staying, are you?"

Kite smiles, a bit sadly. "I'm not staying all day, Hart. There's someone you have to meet, and then I'm going to work, okay?" He takes his younger brother's hand and leads him into the kitchen, where Hart scrambles up into a chair and waits patiently for whoever's making breakfast.

The elevator dings, and Kite stiffens as the doors open. Orbital comes rolling in, and you're right on his robotic heels. Kite bites his lip; he wants to tell you again that he doesn't want you here at all, but Heartland's decision is final, and if you're going to be working here then Hart needs to think his brother is okay with that.

"Good morning, Mr. Tenjo!"

"[Name]." The blond boy nods in acknowledgment before motioning to the blue-haired kid at the table. "This is my brother, Hart. And Hart, this is [Name]. She's going to stay with you while I work, okay?" You definitely notice the shift in Kite's tone when he starts addressing his brother instead of you.

Hart stares at you intently, and you have to suppress a shiver. His golden eyes are narrowed to pinpoints- you'd almost swear he's looking right through you. Forcing aside your creeped-out feelings, you smile and wave at the kid. "Hello, Hart! It's nice to meet you!" He just lowers his eyes to the table and nods.

Kite watches the brief interaction between you and his brother before snapping his fingers to draw your attention. "Follow me." He leads you out from the kitchen and into another room; it looks like a spare guest room, but it's so sparsely furnished, you don't know for sure. Kite stops in the middle of the room and turns to stare you down.

"My brother isn't well. You're not going to do anything that stresses him out whatsoever."

"Well, what kind of condition does he have? If I could do some research so I know what to-"

"It's not in any medical books or databases. We've checked. Just. . ." He glances downwards. "You'll know when something is up. You'll just know."

Well that's ominous.

"Do I have to worry about him having like, seizures or something? What do I do if something happens and he needs medical attention?"

Kite shakes his head. "They're not exactly seizures, and there's nothing that can be done except ride it out. If things get really bad-" he stops to dig around in one of the drawers in the corner desk. He pulls out a d-pad and hands it to you.

"If things get really bad, we have measures for that. The first thing you'll do is hit the emergency switch on this." He pries open a spot on the duel disk to show you a button. "There's a gps in this thing. Wherever you are, I'll find you and get there as fast as I can." He shuts the hidden compartment. "This is a Heartland-issued disk, and as a member of our staff, this is the only one you can use while on the clock. It's got solid-vision capabilities. And this," he reaches into a pocket in his coat, "is your Heartland-issued deck."

You take the deck and d-pad as he hands them to you. "Are these. . . part of the measures for, uh, handling your brother?"

He nods, and another chill runs through you. What is this kid capable of, if you're being given the go-ahead to use solid vision on him?

Kite must've noticed an odd look cross your face, because he smirks down at you. "If you're afraid, you can quit. Leave my brother to me."

You shake your head in defiance. "Helping your family will help mine. I'm staying on," your voice lowers, "whether you like me or not, Mr. Tenjo."

He hums in response before brushing past you. "I'm leaving Orbital here with you today." He announces as you both stride back into the kitchen. Hart, who hadn't moved while you two were away, turns to look at his brother.

"I don't need it, Kite."

"Hart, she's new, I want to make sure she learns how to take care of you-"

"I know I'm your little brother, but I'm not a baby." It's the first note of emotion you've heard in the kid's voice. "Besides, you need Orbital for your work, don't you? I don't want you getting in trouble because you can't do your job right. Please, Kite."

The older boy frowns. From across the table, the robot himself pipes up. "I-i-isn't anyone gonna ask m-m-me what I want?!"

"No."

". . . y-y-yes sir, Master Kite."

Kite left you with a few vague warnings and implied threats before finally relenting, bringing his robot with him instead of leaving it to spy on you all day. When he's finally gone, you sigh in relief; the air around Kite Tenjo is tense and crackling, like he's a walking stormcloud that could let loose at any moment.

You turn to Hart, who's been waiting very patiently at the table, and smile brightly. "Alright, Hart, what do you want for breakfast?"

His response is shy. "Kite always makes eggs and toast. He's. . . not very good at it, though."

You chuckle. "That's what we'll do, then."

☆☆☆☆☆

You monitor Hart carefully throughout breakfast, and then through the morning while he attempts some worksheets- apparently his health keeps him from attending school in the day. Although you're reading a book you'd found, you can feel it when his gaze switches from his worksheets to you. You look up and smile at him. "Do you need any help, Hart?"

"Do you duel?" He ignores your question. You close your book and set it down.

"I do, sometimes. Not very often. What about you?"

He shakes his head slowly. "My brother doesn't let me. He says it's not good for me." He looks back down to the papers in front of him, and again, with that vacant stare of his, you're sure he sees things you're not capable of comprehending. "Will you teach me how to duel, [Name]?"

Kite's stern face flashes through your mind. You're not supposed to do anything to stress Hart out- he's been told not to duel anyways-

"Well," you start carefully, getting off the couch and going to sit on the floor with Hart, "I don't think we can use the AR for duels. Sometimes it makes people sick, and I think that's why your brother might not want you to."

Hart would look disappointed, if he knew how. You continue with another smile. "But y'know, before AR and solid vision and holograms, people just dueled on tabletops?"

"Y'mean, without duel disks and stuff?"

"Yep! Just the cards and their imaginations." You nod. "I can teach you that, if you'd like."

This earns you a small smile from Hart. "I want that."

Hart scrambles to finish his worksheets, and you find some spare paper and draw out a game mat. This'll be a decent chance to toy with the deck Kite had given you, since you hadn't looked through it yet. You pull that deck out, along with the deck you normally used- yeah, you were only supposed to have Heartland's deck, but if push comes to shove, at least you know how your own works.

Finished with his worksheets, Hart sits across from you on the floor, eyeing your makeshift game mat. You hand him your own deck and he flips through it. "Is this really how people used to duel-?"

"Yep! You ready to learn?"

"Yeah."

You pick up a few of the cards from your new deck. "Alright, so this one, the pink, is a trap card. The green ones are spell cards. Everything else is a monster card- there are all sorts of different ones of those, but we'll get to that later-"

The elevator opens, interrupting your monologue. You and Hart look over. A young man and woman are standing there, staring down at the two of you; she's dressed professionally in a white suit, and he's got a thick fur-trimmed coat on despite the weather. She speaks first. "We're here to take Hart to the lab."

You stand up slowly, a hesitant smile on your face. "Sorry, but nobody informed me of this; Hart, do you know these people?"

He nods and stands up too, bringing his hand up and pointing at the woman first, then the man. "Dextra. And Nistro. They work with my brother." He walks towards them as if this is routine.

Nistro looks around the room and then eyes you up and down. He smiles, but it bares his teeth, reminding you of a wolf. "It'll be awhile, and ya probably don't wanna stay here alone; y'wanna come'n watch?"

The woman, Dextra, huffs at him. "Nistro, if Kite didn't explain this to her, then it can be assumed he doesn't want-"

"I want her to come with us." Hart stumbles back over to your side and wraps his fingers through one of your belt loops. "She smiles at me. I want her to come with us." He tugs, trying his best to pull you forward towards the elevator. Dextra sighs, but doesn't make a move to stop him.

The elevator took the four of you to another level in the tower, reminding you exactly how little you know about this place. You try to get a good look at the hallway you've just entered, but Nistro positions himself in your way, blocking your view of how far the hall extends. Behind his back, Dextra takes Hart's hand and leads him through a door; you stretch on your toes and try to lean around Nistro and see where they're going, but the man adjusts himself, and you can't see anymore. You glare at him, but he only smiles down at you.

"Listen, this stuff's pretty classified, y'know? Can't let ya see all of it- and honestly," his voice lowers a bit, and he leans in, "it can get kinda disturbing and hard to watch." He straightens back up, his smile returning and showing his teeth again. "Don't worry, I'm definitely gonna tell Kite you're taking good care of his brother."

With that, one of his strong hands lands on your shoulder, and he steers you in the opposite direction of where Dextra took Hart.

You're led into a room with a giant window on one wall, but instead of facing outside the building, it overlooks another room in the tower- a giant chasm of a room, with no lights and very dark walls and a platform hovering in the middle, a small bridge connecting it to the one door in the room. You've barely started really examining the room you're in- electronic screens filled with data you don't understand, some professional-looking staff skittering around- when movement on the other side of the window catches your eye. It's Hart.

He strides across the small bridge as if he's done it dozens of times before, his steps unfaltering and robotic despite the fact that absolutely nothing could keep him from slipping and falling into an unseen oblivion. You shiver as the morbid thought crosses your mind.

Although you've stepped over to the window to watch the young boy, you look back at Nistro, who's flipping through some paperwork as he steps over to your side.

"What's. . . going on, exactly? Mr. Tenjo didn't tell me about any of this-"

Nistro's eyes roam your face, and you can see how hesitant he is to tell you anything. "Did he tell you about Hart's. . . condition?" You nod, and he relaxes a bit, looking through the observation window as Hart positions himself in the center of the floating platform. "This isn't pretty to watch, but it's a way of handling the kid. Tires him out pretty badly, though."

To your left, someone on staff starts muttering in technical speak you don't understand. Behind you, the door slides open, and Dextra steps up to the window as well. She looks at you out of the corner of her eye. ". . . Don't tell Kite we let you watch this on your first day."

You stare back at her intently, but more movement in the chasm room catches your eye. From somewhere above, absolute torrents of garbage begin falling into the room- bits of plastic and huge hunks of scrap metal all come pouring in, past the window and into the emptiness below. Your breath catches in your chest when a piece of a car frame approaches Hart's tiny form at a rapid speed- but the little boy whirls to glare at it, and his golden eyes flash brightly, and the scrap instantly disappears.

You stumble backwards. "Wh- what the hell?!" You sit on the floor for a moment, trembling, trying to process what you just saw. Even from the floor, you can see things combusting and disappearing and disintegrating-

No wonder you'd been told to use solid vision if this kid got out of hand.

Nistro looks at you, and then back at Dextra, concern crossing his face. He starts muttering "Let's get you back to th-" but then Hart's voice starts echoing. It begins as frustrated moans before quickly escalating into screams, and you're back on your feet in an instant, slamming your hands against the glass. Amidst the falling garbage, you can see Hart crouching in the center of the floating platform, hands to his head, sparks flying from his fingertips and his voice getting lost in the commotion.

Your heart hurts.

When you turn to glare at Dextra and Nistro, they both step back at the intensity of your gaze. "Get him out of there, right now." Funny, you thought you were shaking out of anger? But your voice is so steady and clear.

Dextra shakes her head. "Trust me, I know how difficult this is- if you'd like, Nistro will take you back to the top of the tower-"

"I'm not going back without Hart!" You square your shoulders; despite drawing up to your full height, you're not even at Nistro's shoulders. "I'm supposed to take care of him from now on, and I've decided that this is detrimental to his health." You almost laugh at the last words. What kind of situation is this?! "Stop this experiment or whatever, and take me to him!"

Your hand rests on your deckbox as a silent challenge. With a sigh, Dextra relents. She nods at Nistro, and he motions to the other staff in the room to cut everything off; you follow the pair through the door and down the hallway, and when the second door opens to the odd empty room, you dart inside.

Hart is on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. His eyes are unfocused. Sparks of red-hot energy are still flying from his body. You kneel down next to him, and he looks up at you when you place your hands on his shoulder, his eyes unseeing.

"Brother-?"

"Your brother will be back soon, Hart." You smile at him calmly, but inside, you're absolutely seething. "Let's go back, Hart."

He nods hesitantly at your voice, and he lets you hoist him up into your arms. You don't even look at Nistro or Dextra as you pass, and neither of them attempts to speak with you, although you can feel their eyes drilling into your back as you walk away. Hart, securely in your grasp, wraps his own arms around your neck and buries his face in your hair as you carry him.

"You remind me of someone."

But before you can ask what he means, he's dozed off.

☆☆☆☆☆

Kite arrived home late that evening. The only reason you didn't complain is because you're paid hourly.

He steps into the kitchen, where you're sitting by yourself, although a place at the table has been set for him. Even though it wasn't in the job description, you'd made dinner for him, too. You look up from where you're rapidly tapping at your d-pad and force a smile. "Hart's asleep. Seemed pretty tired, so I'm hoping he sleeps through the night for ya."

Kite studies the plate you'd made for him. "Did he have a good day?"

You're not sure if you should go into detail about exactly what you really thought. You decide not to, since you're still new on the premises. "Yep! Perfectly normal." You power off your d-pad so he can't catch a glimpse of what you're researching, and you start gathering your things to leave. "Should I be back at the same time tomorrow?"

"Sure, whatever." Kite observes you closely as you say goodnight and make your way to the elevator. He looks out the tower windows and down to the streets below; it's only once he sees you leave the tower that he turns back to the table and starts eating the dinner you'd left for him.

#Stadium Arcadium #yugioh #Zexal #kite tenjo

1 note · View note

the-nysh · 7 years

Text

Opm dub: complete English OVA commentary (with links)

Oh man! I’ve been waiting for AGES to finally see these in English, ever since seeing the subs for them way back. My main incentive to compare how gay the translations are, and I can certainly say, I’ve not been disappointed! 8D

Below are my thoughts and impressions from each one, complete with links and a transcription of fun quotes I enjoyed! Have fun!

OVA1: The Shadow that snuck up too close

Saitama, to himself: “Man, I gotta admit, stalkers really are scary. Come to think of it, lately I’ve been feeling eyes on me from somewhere too. … It’s no big deal if it’s just someone with a grudge. But… if that anger turned into some kind of warped love or twisted infatuation the way it did in that movie, then…how should I handle it?” (Look at this, he’s ok being hated; he can handle physical confrontations, but emotional things like love and stuff frighten him! Ahh Saitama, just how will you deal with Genos’ type of attention?! 8D)

Genos: “Perhaps the secret to his power lies in his food. ... No normal person would dream of such behavior, therefore…” (Genos pls, there’s nothing special in Saitama’s trip to the diner, his diet, or his choice in food; the egg is just poor! Genos simply cannot fathom these conditions otherwise. Grasping at straws, yet doesn’t understand the most simple explanation. Important to note, this demonstrates how he couldn’t put two-and-two together to purposely bribe Saitama later with rent money (offering rent is simply proper boarding manners instead) as he doesn’t understand how tight Saitama’s finances are. Plus, once Genos writes off this superfluous ‘food’ explanation for Saitama’s power, it also writes off the ‘Saitama eats monster parts for power’ fan theory too.)

Saitama: “Thieving bastard! I’m so gonna catch you and kick your ass!” (GAWD I’m dying over these NERDS trying to out-stalk each other. XD)

Genos: “…DAMN! It IS just a french fry!” (overdramatic no indoor voice borg) “He has a normal diet; it is no different from an average person’s. I have not discovered a single thing. Is it possible that Master could be a cyborg like me? I have considered the data, just one thing left to do.” (CONFRONT HIM IN PERSON MY GUY. Also, his hope that Saitama could be like him. :’3)

Saitama, to the so-called monster/‘thief’: “COME AT ME STRAIGHT!” (LOL, the dramatic irony here how they’re indirectly talking to/about each other)

Saitama’s internal monologue: “If I continue being a hero, I’m sure this won’t be last time someone’s out for revenge against me. That’s my fate; it can’t be avoided I guess. I just need to change how I think. Right! I need to think positively! I simply have to believe there’ll be people in this world who appreciate what I do. People who’ll know that I’m there to help. I became a hero 3 years ago. I’m not saying I need fans or anything, but it’d be nice if someone noticed all the things I’ve been doing around here. …Oh yeah! There was that one guy who wanted to be my disciple.” (He REMEMBERED Genos! Thinking of things positively from now on too, thank god! :’D)

Genos: “Investigation day 5. I have prepared myself for the worst. *deep breath* Sensei, sir!” Saitama: “You actually showed up.” (Gawd, Genos taking that huge pause, mentally preparing himself to confront Saitama directly. Including preparing his whole backstory speech at ready too. But man, he doesn’t want to screw this up or upset Saitama from all this. :’D)

Summary: Man I love the dramatic irony in this ova. And how in the beginning, it was all dark in trepidation, with Saitama scared of a 'warped love, twisted infatuation' stalker, but in the end...he wants to think positively of what may come, and thinks of Genos :')))) (boy does he have a storm coming!)

OVA2: The Disciple who stinks at storytelling

The mafia guy…refers to the giraffe keychain as 'these babies' GAWD I’m already dying. “This little giraffe must mean a lot to you!” FFFFF!!! And HOW! 8D Genos: “Yes. It is extremely important.” BOIIII

THE BATH SCENE: full script I posted here. Gggnnghh, Saitama TRYING to get Genos to say how the water feels good: “How was it for you?” GAWD! Just trying to get Genos to relax (like in the drama cd), and Genos not quite understanding that and shifting the convo to a pitch singing match instead. Saitama’s “aww, c’mon really?” like with a fond, ‘oh man what am I gonna do with him’ smile, and then playing along anyway. :’))) Genos’ “that is the note for mi!” in english sounds so much like ‘me,’ like Saitama had delivered HIM the special note he requested! THESE DORKS!! 8’D Messing around together in a public bath house! (where that other old guy can totally witness their unabashed antics!)

*Saitama noticing Genos staring and standing awkwardly close to him while naked on the massage chair* S: “Uhh…you can take off without me, you know. *gives keys* Wouldn’t want you to get a chill after your bath. But hey, don’t lose those, ok? These are crazy times we’re living in. Losing your keys will only lead to trouble.” Saitama pls, Genos can’t catch a chill. XD But look at that, the egg worried for his safety/wellbeing anyway, as he gives him permission to leave ahead of him. ;D Seriously, those double-take side glances of his at Genos standing so expectantly next to his side! Like goodness, egg would like some space pls. XD But also, Genos takes Saitama’s key offering and instructions to protect it super seriously too. (he never changes the position of his arm while carrying it!)

*flash to present* G: “THAT is how important the key is to me.” Don: “Your stories are terrible. ‘Faah’-get about it! Nobody cares about any of this crap!” (lol, the audience does tho ;D) G: “Your ‘Fa’ should be higher; ‘Fa~’ see?” (HOLY SHIT what an ass! XD) Don: “Unghh!!” G: “In any case, the key is important and I would like it back now. Surely you have…one or two things that are important to you.” Don: “My Family means everything to me! I’d do just about anything for’ em!” G: “I see, then you understand how I would do anything for Master Saitama.” (!!!!!!!!!! The important, classic declaration line, delivered like this! :’D)

*flashback* S: “So you decided to wait around after all? It’s so cold, too.” *sneezes* G: “Are you ok, Master?!” S: *shivers* “It’s freezing out. The chill’s gettin to me.” G: *glances at his head* S: “Uh – were you just checkin out my head?” G: “No! I would never.” GAAHH! It’s so gay!! I can’t handle this. :’D Like, OF COURSE Genos wouldn’t leave Saitama alone there! Previously Saitama was worried Genos might catch a chill, but HE catches one instead! And Genos showing his open concern for him! Glancing at his head like mentally correlating his baldness with greater heat loss too (get him a hat, Genos!) Saitama noticing that detail and using the flirty, ‘checkin out’ language, GAH! Plus Genos’ BLATANT LIES. FFFFF!!!

S: *imitating Genos* “DINNER TARGET AQUIRED~!” With that super quick facial change, and Genos staring at him the whole time! 8D

G: *extremely close death glare at the store employee* “It is only 2 seconds past the posted time. Will you please make an exception? You still have the merchandise!” *seething and clenching his fist* “The attitude of that employee. Have you any idea how I felt?! IT WAS WRONG!!” (absolute, no chill drama borg throwing an emotional fit here)

*Genos continues to ramble on, with the Don getting pissed and annoyed at him to get to the fucking point already* G: “Be patient. There is an order to the series of events in question.” (this was the ‘words come from the heart’ line from the fan translations) *comes to the conclusion that they’re complete strangers with zero connection* Don: “You mean you’ve been running your mouth since the moment we got here, just so you could tell me you’ve met him on the street today for the first time?!” G: “You did ask. There, I told you everything. Now give me back the keys as you promised you would.” Don: “SMARTASS PUNK!” (and later: “YOU FOOL! How stupid can someone possibly be!?”) Genos plsss… Like, it’s adorable how naïve and straight-laced he is, expecting proper honest procedure from typical law-abiding citizens…however, these mobster guys are anything but! (and yet he doesn’t even recognize or expect they’re criminals at first) And him simply rambling about his complete bath story with his sensei to complete strangers!! His enthusiasm and priorities, man! X’D

*flash to the REAL present* G: “And finally after all that, I was able to get the key back. But unfortunately, I missed the sale.” S: “Well…I had a spare key so in the end it was no big deal. But it sounds like you had a lot to contend with, didn’t cha?” G: “Master, I must apologize to you. I am too incompetent to run your errands!” S: “Nah~! It’s no big deal! We’ll just have a tofu hotpot tonight.” (he’s really warm here :3) G: “This will not make up for it…” S: “Hm?” G: “But here, *offers special bag* I went by another store.” S: “Huh? NO WAY! That’s some super expensive meat you brought home!” (he’s super happy!)

S: “Good thing we had some eggs, it’s sukiyaki time! Let’s dig in!” (the egg mentions eggs, heh) G: “RIGHT!” (HE is so happy now too!!)

Summary: So GOSH, this entire ova can be summed up with a ‘GENOS PLS’ and ‘these total gay, hopeless dorks!’ X’D Also, the end scene reveals Genos had told Saitama this entire convoluted story too, but UNLIKE the Don, Saitama patiently listens to the whole thing without complaint! Even warmly reassuring Genos’ distress that everything’s fine. :’3 And yep, Genos humbly offers him the expensive meat in apology (as the best alternative he could find, as in his fool mind, best=most expensive), and Saitama is so HAPPY to receive something he would never normally get! Both of them, enjoying a fancy hotpot together. :’D Bless <333

OVA3: The overly complicated ninja (Sonic’s special)

Sonic’s epically horrible dream about getting punched in the dick by Saitama. Stranger: “Everything ok? I heard you moaning up there!” (WORD CHOICE, man! XD) “You kept calling out ‘Saitama…Saitama.’”

Sonic fukkin carves a detailed face of the egg into a tree… He’s eternally haunted by phantoms of an evil Saitama always ending their encounters by punching him in the dick!! c h r i s t ‘Why’ indeed! ‘Psychological trauma,’ as the old hunter says it is. :P

Sonic: “Fine then, I’ll admit it, Saitama. When I sensed your power, I was afraid!” Ahh, I like how he confronts his weakness. And is determined to overcome it! Training to control and accept his fear! 8D (and gaining a cute little boar friend for support~) Interesting of note to me, how he’s AFRAID of Saitama’s power. How many other people would be as well? When in contrast, people like Genos, would never be afraid of Saitama.

The hunter’s name…is revealed to be FRANK. Omg dub team, pls.

Sonic: “Hey, Hunter. If you’re defeated before you fight, the results will be the same, no matter how often you try.” And this is neat. How someone could be defeated mentally before even trying. :’) Much truth in these words.

Saitama *randomly pops out of nowhere* “Oh. A bear.” (HIS FACE I CAN’T!) Inadvertently saving the hunter while on the prowl, omg. Settling for the bear for dinner, as the baby boar ran away in fear recognizing his face from Sonic’s wood carvings. XD

*Together, at home* G: “So is this what you would call a ‘bear hotpot,’ Master?” S: “Yeah, you heard those rumors about the giant bear causing all that damage right? *snarfs a bite with blushing cheeks* YUM~” G: “You mean, you can really eat them?” S: “Sure, you can eat most any animal.” G: *takes out notes* “I see!” S: “Oh, a-and I hear wild boar is pretty good too.” G: “I LEARN SO MUCH FROM YOU, MASTER!” (omg, genos pls! this is becoming an ongoing gag line, to have him finish their convos with this level of enthusiasm! XD Also how wary he’d been eyeing the bear food, ahaha.)

OVA4: Bang, who is too overbearing (The excessively pushy Bang)

Bang: “Hm? Genos? Why are they together? Wait, come to think of it *recalls Genos yelling ‘Master!’ during the meteor* Could this be a teacher-student situation? But their rankings are Class S and Class C! So what’s going on?” (WHAT indeed! 8D Also, ‘situation’ changed from ‘relationship’ as in the fansubs)

*At the scene of the dead cabbage monster* S: “What should we have for dinner? I think we’ve got some cabbage left.” G: “Cabbage alone will not be enough. Shall I purchase some meat, Master?” S: “Ugh, what am I supposed to do with you, Genos? (OMG) Now listen! Don’t underestimate cabbage! Stir fried in yakiniku sauce goes great with rice.” G: “Ah! I see, so preparation is what truly dictates the results. Even a powerful weapon can be junk in the hands of the incompetent. Tell me; is that the lesson, Master?!” S: “Uh, I wouldn’t go that far.” G: “YOU TEACH ME SO MUCH, MASTER!” S: “Uaah, all your talk about meat made me wanna eat some! Great, way ta go, man.” Wah! This perspective has them inspired from the monster to eat their cabbage leftovers, rather than say, harvesting ingredients from the monster (no collecting monster parts here). :P Also omfg, but is this whole convo a callback to the second ova? About Genos purchasing meat again (Saitama like ‘oh no you won’t again!’) and indirectly calling himself incompetent (like junk?!) again!? (for failing against the meteor this time) Like GEEZ, the toaster is so hard on himself. :’) But, Saitama there telling him not to go that far. :’D And how casually/fondly Saitama speaks with him now (‘What am I supposed to do with you? Way ta go, man.’) Such good interactions!

Bang, to himself: “Up close he appears to be nothing more than an ordinary guy. Genos looks superior in every way, yet Saitama is guiding him. In terms of Association ranking, Genos is placed much higher, but if Saitama’s mastered a fighting style that surpasses rankings, it’s a different story.” (hohoho, how this summarizes so much! That classic ONE disconnect between appearance, rank and expectations there too) S: “What’s with the weird old guy? He’s gone all quiet.” G: “He is eccentric. Many are like that in Class S.” (Pfft, like…yourself, Genos? ;D And goddammit! Indirectly rude to his face too! XD Well actually, BOTH these dorks are rude to him, hah. They just fukkin get up and leave him – after Saitama asks Genos if he’s ready to go, together.) Bang: “That must mean this Saitama is an all-around outstanding teacher.” (huehue)

Bang: “How ‘bout this, why not stop by my dojo sometime? Might be interesting, what do ya say?” S: “Uh…nah I-I’m good.” G: “Master Saitama is a very busy man.” Bang: “C’mon, don’t be like that. Here, this is the address for my dojo. I’ll be there all day tomorrow.” G: “Did you not hear what I said?! Master is–” S: “Allllright, old man. See ya tomorrow.” G: “Uh! MASTER!” (Heh, Genos trying to defend Saitama, and YET! The ‘yoink’ from Saitama totally surprising him. XD Overprotective toaster, man.)

*later* G: “I thought for certain you were going to stop by the dojo.” S: “Well uh, I’ve learned old dudes like that can be persistent. Humoring them then blowing ‘em off is the only way to avoid big headaches.” Bang: “...He’s so very vulnerable and inexperienced.” *Saitama immediately dives in front of a truck* G: *gawking shock* “!!!! MASTER!!” S: “Thought it was a cat, but it was just a stupid plastic bag. And now all that delicious meat we bought has been run over by a truck and ruined.” OH MANNN!! Although I do prefer the prolonged yell of ‘SENSEIIIII~!!’ in Japanese, Genos is STILL stunned into overprotective shock for Saitama’s safety here. PLS, he JUST witnessed Saitama punch out a meteor! And YET he cannot help this protective instinct when the person he cares about appears *in danger*! XD Does Saitama’s normally ‘soft’ egg face make him appear ‘vulnerable’ to him too, as it does for Bang?!

Bang: (internally: “This changes all of my mental simulations.”) “You two look like you’re in need of some nourishment!” (OMG, this word choice! XD) S: *audibly scoffs* Bang: “Back at my dojo, I have some premium meat that the Martial Arts Association sent over.” (ooh they mentioned this detail here) S: “Ah! What a coincidence! I happen to have a bottle of yakiniku sauce! Where is your dojo?” (ahaha his projected heroic voice!)

Saitama, behind Bang’s introductions: “Ughh, this is such a pain in the ass…” Omg, him audibly complaining and annoyed already, he just wants the meat and to go home!

G: *finished clattering on phone* “Master, I will do it.” S: “You understand all the rules?” G: “I do. The explanation took too long, so I just looked them up.” Genos pls, you’re one to talk!! YOUR explanations take forever too! XD GAWD, these dorks I swear.

S: “All right then! The next hit wins, come get some!!” Omg, Saitama’s so into the game. XD Spirited, competitive and totally a sore loser about it too, buahaha!

Bang: “Maybe now you understand that you’ve had a match. Especially you, Saitama. Before you knew it, you enjoyed taking part in the competition. Otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten so serious. … Martial arts are appealing in this way, a way that you can never get from fighting and physical combat.” G: *with arms raised in the same attentive position as Charanko’s* “He has a point; Master was getting serious.” Ohoho, Genos is super interested the moment Bang says the game enticed Saitama to get serious. Interested in whatever can do THAT to his sensei!

Charanko calls him Bang-sensei! 8D (and not ‘Master’ like Genos)

S: “Whatever, let’s go one more round and finish this! I’m STARVING!” (HAH, Saitama pls!) G: “Master, shall I play you next?” (whoa, there!) S: “Uh-what? Why?” OMG Genos pls. X’D Heh, probably because he wants to challenge and see Saitama get serious against him this time. Like a sparring match of a different kind! ;D

Summary: AHHHHH, gosh!! Pretty much the whole ova was absolute gold, with plenty of prime interactions! (I had to refrain from transcribing every conversation XD) What a riot and so much fun!

OVA5: The sisters with too much going on

LILY!!! And FUBUKI!!! 8D Their voices! Ahhhh <3 ‘Gentle tomboyish’ is how I can best describe Lily’s voice. :P Also notably, the group calls Fubuki, ‘Miss Blizzard.’

Genos, internally: *introduces all the formal info for Fubuki* “But why is she…? Allergies, maybe?” (GENOS PLS, she is crying you fool!) THE LINE: “They are crabs. Crabs for my Master!” (EXACTLY LIKE IN THE SUBS I’M CRYING) Fubuki, internally: ??? “Uuhh, Isn’t this guy from Class S?” (She is horribly confused for their first ever line spoken together! XD Doesn’t even KNOW who his ‘Master’ is too!)

Genos, immediately with no chill or indoor voice: “EVERYONE, EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! I have been informed there is a bomb on this train! PLEASE HEAD TOWARDS THE EXITS, TIME IS- *suddenly realizes* DAMMIT, they cannot! There is no way for them to escape!” (THIS FOOOOL I CAN’T HANDLE HIM HOLY SHIT X’D)

Genos, to Fubuki: “What is it? You cannot handle it without your underlings?” (HOLY SHIT THIS ASSHOLE xD He doesn’t approve of her style of heroics with rookie crushing, and doesn’t hide the disdain in his voice at all!) Fubuki: “No, I just don’t appreciate being ordered around, ok!?” (Heh, their interactions are off to a great start. :P)

The little Class C hero girl! Swim-chan, ahhh! Blushing in Fubkui’s presence. ;D Fubuki: “Shut up and get it together! All that whining’s not gonna change anything! Calm down and prepare yourself.” :’)))) Fubuki, doubly hard on herself while she lectures the girl (girl still blushing getting ordered around, heh). Speaking from experience and her OWN issues with inadequacy compared to her sister. Ahhh, my girl. <3

Genos, with extreme strained grunting holding the front of the ramming train: “YES!” (LOL, does this remind you of anything? ;D) Tatsumaki: “Outta the way~!”

Waaah, Fubuki responds to her sister’s quip, ‘why didn’t you just get off of that thing?’ with a ‘none of your business, is it?’ :’)))) Fubuki still has her PRIDE and sense of duty, man!! Aughh! She’s so upset her sister smothered her attempt to shine all over again! Can really feel sentimental for her. <3

Swim-chan comes to personally thank and express her gratitude to Fubuki for saving her. :’) Expressing her ongoing doubts of even continuing to be a hero (Fubuki can totally relate, always being in her sister’s shadow), but has gained renewed inspiration and strength from Fubuki today! :’DD Ahhh, so good! Both of them, uplifting each other to never give up!

*Naked, at the LAB* Genos: “Dr. Kuseno. Beyond strength, speed, range. I now know there is another type of power I lack.” Kuseno: “Well this is quite sudden. What is it?” Genos: *intense close up* “SUPERNATURAL.” Kuseno: *turns away* “I’m sorry to say my technology can’t help you with something like that.” Genos: *visibly distraught and pouting* Kuseno: “Must’ve been quite the formidable enemy you were fighting. Tell me, what happened?” Genos: *sulking* “…I utterly failed at shopping! *walks away* If only I possessed supernatural powers, the crabs would not have exploded as they did!” Kuseno: “The poor boy must be tired~” - Saitama, waiting for Genos to come home for dinner: “Sure taking his time, what gives?”

UAHHH!!! This boy I swear!! X’D And poor Kuseno too, totally used to this ‘poor boy’ always running with no chill (and his ridiculous requests). :’D Genos pls….Saitama has all the chill, patiently waiting for you to just come home!

OVA 6: The murder case that was too impossible (The far too impossible case of murder)

Immediately, Child Emperor’s voice, and soon enough, Lightspeed Flash’s voice too! “The answer to that is none of your business.” He sounds…posh and manly, heh. Meanwhile, Saitama and Genos are sitting side by side together in the water, minding their own business. :P

Zombieman’s voice?! It’s kinda…higher than expected. :O Like a young, nasally goody guy? Tank Top Master’s voice too…pretty deep.

PPP: “What a waste of a beautiful boy!!” (omg lol, plus the actor does his lines well btw)

Genos, literally fighting with a child to defend Saitama’s honor: “Hold on. Are you implying that Master Saitama is a suspect?” Child Emperor: *to Saitama* “Well, maybe not with that face.” (OMG no!!! X’D) Genos: “Listen to me! Even if My Master wanted to destroy Zombieman, he would not need weapons, a single punch would– *realizes, internally* Wait a second, if Master wanted to test the validity of Zombieman’s immortality, he might have used a weapon to go easy on him. Unfortunately, that would make sense.” Saitama: *notices Genos staring at him* “Hm?” Genos: *secretly to him* “Easy, Master. Do not worry. I will defend you at your trial.” Saitama: “I! DID NOT! DO IT!” (HOOOOO, it’s the ‘perjury for my sensei’ line! Classic. X’D)

King’s voice!! It’s like, deep and oily? Very ahh, distinct. Totally would not expect considering how his real character is like. Also his ‘King Engine’ here is a literal drum beat! (and not a heartbeat like how it is in the main anime eps)

Tatsumaki: “I know Zombieman doesn’t die when he gets killed!” (HAAAH referencing the ‘people die when they are killed’ meme, I can’t believe this XD) Zombieman: “Honestly it doesn’t bother me. This stuff happens all the time when you drink.” (HE’S SO CHILL OMG WTF. Treating getting stabbed like casual everyday shenanigans. :P) Everyone: “WHAT?!” Saitama: “Nuh-uh. Not at all.” (dude, exactly XD)

*Saitama and Genos, walking home in the sunset together* Saitama: “It was her, huh? The little brat caused all that trouble. You know, you gotta wonder why she’d do something so crazy.” Genos, internally: “…Unfortunately, that is likely your fault, Master.” *flashback* Tatsumaki: *offering Genos her drink* “I’m done~ Here. I just don’t like drinking, it tastes gross.” Saitama: *takes it away from Genos, scolding* “Of course you don’t like doing that! You’re still just a little kid! Stop trying to act so much like an adult, alright? You shouldn’t be drinking to begin with. Little kids should just have orange juice or something!” Tatsumaki: “WHAT!? Listen you–” Saitama: “I’ll go order one for you right now.” Genos, current time, internally: “Tornado’s pride got hurt, so in an act of retaliation, she forced herself to drink more, despite its flavor.” Saitama, beaming: “I gotta say, Genos! That hot spring sure felt great, didn’t it?!” Genos: “YES, MASTER!”

Ahaha! X’D Saitama can only view Tatsumaki as a child! And Genos, withholding such details from Saitama, while making sense of the whole fiasco for the audience. In any case, it’s great to see both our dorks HAPPY, side by side together. :’D

Overall, VERY enjoyable and especially so to see how faithful the dub team kept to their characters, never holding back on the gay at all, either! ;D (what a blessing!) Recommended for anyone to see the ovas again, in this fresh, alternative perspective! (special thanks to @dolltrash-etc for providing me with the links to study these, and showing me bits of her limited dvd release booklet! <333)

#opm #saigenos #english dub #commentary #I HAVE FINISHED AND PROVIDED LINKS WITHIN! 8D #this got way in depth omfg but i have no chill ESPECIALLY with content of our beloved dorks X3

56 notes · View notes

lumiolivierlithium · 7 years

Text

Chapter Twenty-Five: Hello Kitty

Word Count: 6139

Chapter No. 25/?

Notes: This chapter gets a little (and I do mean, a little) on the racy side. That’s all I’m going to say. Nothing too graphic. But for those of you familiar with Mystic Messenger, it feels like a very Jumin Han thing to do. Also, something I’d do...:3

Chapter Twenty-Four: Journals from Central

I really wish the diner on the outskirts of Lenexa wasn’t horrifying. That way, I could still avoid the café like the plague. Unfortunately, here we are. I looked in the window and made sure King Douchebag himself wasn’t in there. Lucky for me, the café was emptier than last year’s bird nest. I was a bit grumbly and I could use the caffeine boost that the Red Bull had failed to deliver me, so I made my first steps into the café as a civilian and waited for my boyfriend behind the counter to acknowledge me.

I was so proud of him, making use of the downtime. Julian was cleaning out one of the espresso machines while I stood there waiting patiently. I trained him well. Although, everything seemed to be the same. Even when I’m not here, this place is always in a rut. But a small part of me kind of missed it here. Sure, Griffin was an insufferable asshole, but I liked the people that came in here. It sucked not seeing some of them anymore.

Alright. This was getting ridiculous. Something tells me Julian wasn’t paying attention to the door and was off in his own little world right now. I understood, though. I’d daydream cleaning the espresso machines, too. However, I had a fic to work on and I didn’t have all day to twiddle my thumbs in here.

“Notice me, senpai…” I whispered.

“Oh, senpai has noticed already, baby,” I could hear a smile on his face. Julian came back to the counter, “What are you doing in here? I thought this place was dead to you.”

“It is,” I confirmed, “But there’s this really cute guy that works here. I can’t seem to quit him.”

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

“Who else would it be?” I rolled my eyes.

“You ok?” Julian glanced me over, “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” I brushed him off, “I thought about what you said this morning.”

“The parallel fic?” he figured.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I finished the Mustang chapter and I did the Hawkeye chapter.”

“That’s my girl!” he praised, “How’d they turn out?”

“The Mustang chapter was easier to write,” I sighed out, “The Hawkeye chapter made me need to take a walk or I’d start crying.”

“Shit…” Julian understood, “That bad?”

“It’s a heavy chapter,” I warned him, “Are you sure you need it in your life that bad?”

“Positive,” he swore, “I have thick skin. I can handle it.”

“Are you sure?” I winced, “Because the Hawkeye chapter takes place right after Hughes’ funeral.”

“Mimi!” Julian whined, “Why’d you have to go and do that? It’s like when I read the L reader fic all over again!”

“You actually read through it?” I cocked my head.

“Yeah!” he squeaked, “And it crushed me! When you went out with Veronica and I was sitting in the diner, my waitress asked me if I was ok and if I needed a hug. I wasn’t and I did! But I didn’t tell her that.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” I bit my lip, “I don’t mean to rip your heart out. It just happens.”

“Mimi?” Kyle chirped from the back, “There you are!”

“Hi, Kyle,” I greeted him.

“Where have you been?” he drawled while Julian made my green tea for me, “I missed you! The other day, I thought I was actually on time.”

“I quit,” I told him, “Haven’t worked here since Tuesday.”

“I thought today was Tuesday…” Yep. Nothing’s changed.

“No,” I corrected, “You’re off a couple days, Kyle. Today’s Thursday.”

“Damn,” Kyle sighed, heading back into the kitchen, “But it’s good to have you back!”

“I’m not coming back,” I shot him down, “Only for tea and maybe a turnover.”

“Here,” Julian gave me a green tea and a cherry turnover, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” I awed, “I need to get back to work.”

“Me, too,” he did a quick glance around the café, sneaking a kiss from behind the counter, “I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Sure will,” I assured, grabbing my bag and my cup, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Lieutenant.”

And I went on my merry little way with my heart all full. It felt so weird being on the other side of that. Like tying someone’s tie for them. I started walking around the park to clear my head. Why not? It’s the quickest and best way of straightening things out upstairs. I could shit on Lenexa all I wanted to. It did have its redeeming qualities. Especially this park.

The city board was hard at work lighting this place up for Halloween. The Mystic Forest was cool as hell. The whole place looked dark and ominous and scary. But in a fucked up twisted sense, it was so beautiful. It’s how I pictured a rave in the woods outside of Phantomhive Manor to look if the young lord was into that sort of thing.

As beautiful as it may be, it wasn’t much to look at during the day. I started heading back toward Julian’s and got to work on the Free! fic. Which was just me staring at a blank computer screen for half an hour. I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. Haru wants to do a body swap with the mermaid, so he can have fins for legs. I got that. But how were they going to do it? Rin was way too protective of her. Maybe I should scrap it. With the trouble it’s giving me, I was highly tempted.

Maybe it’s just one of those projects that go in the ‘not today’ file. I didn’t want to fully scrap it. I loved the adorable concept! And I wanted to get Rin’s sister involved and her telling him not to be creepy and her freaking out because…well…there is a mermaid in his bathtub. And maybe some of the other swim club members. Even though the internet tries to get me to ship Haru and Makoto, I couldn’t. Don’t get me wrong. Makoto’s a cutie and I could just eat him up. But Rin and Haru? They’re too much of OTP material. They’re rivals. They make each other better swimmers. They’re the cutest thing and I wanted them to be together forever.

All of a sudden, I had a lightbulb moment. Just because I was having a little case of writer’s block didn’t mean I had to give up a creative outlet altogether. Julian still had some boxes packed. Maybe I could be the sweet girlfriend I am and finish for him. He was nice enough to let me crash here last night while I was in the state I was in yesterday. It was the least I could do. I wasn’t going through his stuff. I’m unpacking. There’s a difference. And now, I’m starting to sound like Veronica.

Granted, I had no clue where he wanted anything, but if he didn’t like where I put it, he can change it himself. For whatever reason, I started in the basement. I’ve never been down here. God only knows what happened in his basement. This could’ve been a sex torture dungeon and I’d be none the wiser. Julian didn’t strike me as the type to be into that sort of thing. His kink threshold was probably cosplaying. Aside from that, he’s probably not into pain or anything like that.

I turned the light on and started down the stairs. Sweet mother of God…I wasn’t expecting this down here. Not quite a sex torture dungeon, but just as much of a turn on. Julian’s basement looked like a fully functioning workshop. And it was all ridiculously organized. His workspace put mine to shame. Then again, I was restricted to making all of mine in my bedroom. I’ve been wondering where he did all his work. So many works in progress…I guess he really was getting a jump on con season. This was chill inducing!

Julian had so much down here. All of the armor was metal instead of Worbla and probably fully functional. All the leather was so well worn and aged. By the looks of it, some of these were still drying. I wanted to cry. This was like looking into the Grand Canyon or over Niagara Falls. And I wanted to live here. Julian’s basement looked like my wet dream

I’d be lying if I said this didn’t inspire me a little. The bolts and bolts of fabric so meticulously organized made me want to play. Unfortunately, Julian’s sewing machine was occupied by some bright red silk that I wanted to wrap myself in. I had visions of it hanging over Noiz after a night with Koujaku. He really was working on a new one, wasn’t he? I’m sure he knew what he was doing, but God, I hope he’s careful with this silk. I saw the price tag on one of his bolts. Silk didn’t come cheap.

I could finish it while he’s gone…but then he can’t say he did it. And robbing him of that would be a dick move. I didn’t know how he was going to do this. All I knew was how much I couldn’t wait to be the one to put Koujaku’s tattoos on his body. I could not wait. All those big, beautiful blossoms on his nicely defined back…I’m already swooning.

I wasn’t going to screw with anything down here. Julian had a system and I’m sure he’d bitch at me. And I’m not his maid. He can clean down here himself. Wait a second…What did you just say in your internal monologue, Mimi? That I’m not Julian’s maid. I am feeling rather inspired, but I doubt Julian had a maid costume somewhere around here. I might as well get a little practice if he and I are moving to southern California after local con season.

I went back home for a minute and dug through the cosplay side. I needed a black uniform dress, a little white apron, some fishnets, and my knee high black boots. Did I want to go black? Black is the tradition, but I had a light purple uniform dress, too. I’d be adorable. And with the purple dress, I’d have to have some sort of pastel hair, too. And my cat ears, too! How could I be a neko maid without the neko part?

Gloves…Did I want gloves? I kind of wanted gloves, but they’d get in the way. I had two hours before Julian came home and I wanted to do something nice for him. Hey! My light pink wig had pigtails to go with it! Pigtails, cat ears, and a light purple French maid uniform. Tail, too? Should I do a tail? No. The ears are enough.

I threw everything in a bag and went back to Julian’s. Time to have a borderline magical girl transformation. Only instead of becoming a badass with superpowers that’ll save the world one day and be late to class the next, I’ll just be an adorable cat maid. Because why not? After everything Julian’s done for me, it’s the least I can do. It’s too bad I don’t have a cosplay for one of Lucy Heartfilia’s celestial spirits. I’d make a killer Virgo.

Alright, Mimi. Let’s do this. I dropped my pink dress around my ankles and did a corset first. I’ve been eating my feelings lately. The corset was necessary. Besides, it made my dress fit a little better. When I pulled the laces on my corset, I tried not moaning, having my Black Butler flashbacks to the infamous corset scene. Julian’s neighbors didn’t need to think I’m weird. There’s a good chance I knew his neighbors anyway.

Regardless, I finished getting dressed and forgot how much of a pain in the ass my fishnets were. Or my boots! I mean, I did wear these Sunday for Misa, but still! That didn’t make them any less difficult to contend with! The things I did for you, Julian. I cosplay my least favorite character I have a cosplay for. I become a neko maid for your amusement, even though you don’t know about it yet. The things we do for love, I guess.

Now that I was completely dressed, I needed to get everything from the neck up cute, too. I hadn’t put makeup on in a few days. My skin won’t know how to act. Watch. I’ll end up all broke out because of this. I shouldn’t. This was the same stuff I used every other day. Just because it hasn’t seen my skin in a while doesn’t mean it’s going to act up. I can only hope.

I could tell I was out of practice with putting fake lashes on. That’s for sure. I could put them on other people, but I had a hard time putting them on myself. I drew a thickening black line on the top of my eyelid to cover the black band on my lashes, winging it out just enough to make me look like a cat, and took my white pencil, tracing the inner corners of my eyes.

I debated for a moment or two on what lip color to use. I was torn. A part of me wanted to go with a purple to match my dress, but I could’ve gone with a soft pink to go with my hair. That would match my natural lip tone a little more. Or I could’ve done neither and went with a super dark purple. I’m a bit hesitant about using dark lip colors. I had mixed emotions about it on other people, let alone me. Nate and I hadn’t experimented with that yet. Soft pink. I’ll do a soft pink. But a matte soft pink. I ran the brush over my lips and looked myself over one last time.

I looked like the most precious, pastel neko maid I’ve ever seen in my life. Something about the way I looked screamed a need for glitter. I brought a white, glittery, tulle skirt with me for such an occasion. I shimmied it up my legs, puffing out the bottom of my dress a little, and did a spin in front of the mirror. Mother of God, I’m adorable! Kawaii! I didn’t need any more glitter. The rest came from the sparkle in my eyes. I couldn’t get over myself! I needed pictures. Just a couple.

I’m not exactly the master of mirror pictures and personally, I thought they were dumb, but I managed to get some of me not holding my phone. It’s not like I had someone else here to take them, though. I’m sure once Julian comes home, he’d be more than happy to do some shots for me. He had a spot in the basement for it. I threw my wig on, clipped in my pigtails, and waited for him to come home to his newfound stray kitty.

As soon as I saw his headlights come up the driveway, I sat on his kitchen counter, dangling my feet over the edge. I knew he was about to shit a brick over me. How could he not? Hang on…I heard two car doors shut. Why did I hear two car doors shut? Julian went to work. Julian comes home. Why the fuck did I hear two car doors? Maybe I’m overreacting. Wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe he’s getting something out of the back seat. Everything was fine. I sprinted into the bedroom and noticed a text from Julian.

Hey, baby. Paul’s coming home with me. We’re talking Team Mustang shoot.

Shit! Not overreacting! Paul? Why did it have to be Paul? It could’ve been worse. At least it’s someone relatively in the community. Besides, I could actually have a professional doing my shots now. I thought about having Paul doing them earlier today. If I had his number, I would’ve called him. Blessing in disguise, I guess. I jumped back up on the kitchen counter and waited for them to come in.

“Mimi!” Julian yelled from the door, “I’m home! Tell me you didn’t trash the place.”

“Welcome home, Master,” I put on a little smirk.

“Oh, hello,” his face lit up. Got him, “Paul, cover your eyes.”

“Why?” Paul walked in, getting an eyeful of me, “Oh, that’s why. Hot damn!”

“Have I mentioned today how much I love you?” Julian picked me up off the counter, holding me in his arms.

“I think so,” I nuzzled my face in his neck.

“Why don’t you make me a drink?” he requested, “And while you’re at it, make one for you, too.”

“My pleasure, Master,” I kissed his cheek.

“That’s my good, little kitty,” Julian smiled, petting my head, “Dammit, Paul! I said look away!”

“I can’t help myself,” he continued to look me up and down, “You’re cute, Mimi.”

“Thank you!” I chirped, “I wanted to be cute for when my master came home!”

“Keep talking like that,” Julian grabbed me around my waist, “And you and I are going to have some problems.”

“What’s wrong, Master?” I put on the sparkly eyes, “Did I do something you didn’t want me to?”

“Oh, no, no, no, neko-chan,” he put his hand to my cheek, “You did something very right. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand…” I spoke softly.

Julian pulled me against his chest a little more aggressively than usual. Looks like I might have flipped a switch in him. He whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine, “I’m doing everything in my power to not take you into my bedroom right now. If it were just you and me home, I wouldn’t be holding back. Unfortunately, we have company. Why else would I be wanting a drink?”

“Jack and Coke?” I assumed.

“That’s right.”

I hopped down from the counter and reached into the liquor cabinet. It’s not my fault that I’m small. That’s just bad genetics. Why did Julian have to have such high cabinets? Even though my boots gave me an extra couple inches, I’d still have to get a chair. I managed to get the bottle of Jack Daniels down from the shelf and threw some ice in a glass, “Paul? While I’m pouring?”

“Can’t,” he shot me down, “I have to drive back tonight and I’m sure I can’t crash here with you like that.”

“What do you mean?” Like I didn’t know.

“I’m assuming you and Julian are going to want some private time,” Paul figured, giving Julian an overexaggerated wink.

“I have to go home tonight, too,” I broke the news, “I’m sure my parents want me back.”

“Does that mean we don’t get to cuddle tonight?” Julian pouted.

“I’m sorry, Master,” I sat in his lap, giving him his drink.

“That’s alright, baby,” he went back to petting me, “There’s always tomorrow. Besides, you’ll be back at the ass crack of dawn, right?”

“If you want me to be,” I promised, “I’d be more than happy to.”

“That’s my girl,” Julian kissed my forehead, “I have a proposition for you.”

“What?” Paul wondered.

“Not you,” he clarified, poking my nose, “For you.”

“Oh?” I laid my head on Julian’s thigh, “And what does my master have for me?”

“Would you ever want to be featured on my site solo?” he offered.

“Solo?” I thought it over, “I don’t know…”

“They obviously love you, Mimi,” he pointed out, “We can always do a test shot.”

“Of what?”

“Well,” Julian smirked a bit, “You do look awfully adorable in my lap right now.”

“You can say whatever you want about me,” I allowed, “It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s the trolls on the internet.”

“Paul,” he ignored my remark, “This is about to sound really stupid, but do you have one of your cameras with you?”

“I don’t,” Paul cringed, “I know. I feel naked. But all my cameras are at home, dude. You don’t have one?”

“Yeah,” Julian groaned, “But I don’t really like using it. It’s kind of a piece of shit now.”

“What kind of camera?” Paul asked.

“Digital?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Paul rolled his eyes, “What brand?”

“It’s a Nikon, I think,” Julian slipped his finger under my wig cap and pulled on my real hair, scratching my head. As weird as it’s going to sound, I could get used to this. Being his neko-chan. He really was treating me like his pet. And in a twisted way, I was loving it.

“And you dare call it a piece of shit?” Paul scolded, “How dare you, sir?”

“It’s in the office,” he directed him, “I think it’s in the desk drawer.”

“Got it!” Paul jumped up from the couch and I buried my face in Julian’s belly.

“You know, Mimi,” Julian looked down at me, “I wasn’t expecting to find you like this when I came home. I thought you were working on fic all day.”

“I did for the most part,” I admitted, “Then writer’s block happened and I took a walk around town. I thought I’d come back here and finish unpacking, but…”

“But what?” he sounded nervous, “What did you do?”

“I went into the basement,” I told, “I saw the inner sanctum.”

“You saw the workshop,” he chuckled to himself, “What’d you think of my setup?”

“I have the biggest nerdy lady boner,” I blushed, “Your setup is incredible. Much better than what I got.”

“I’m sure if you had your own house,” Julian promised, “You’d have a much better setup than mine.”

“I’d have it all like a murphy bed,” I explained, “Everything would fold into the walls, so when people came over, they wouldn’t think I’m that weird otaku girl that spends her day reading manga and watching anime nonstop and has no job or social life.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he stopped me, “Your figurines would be on the fireplace. Your guest bedroom would be a cosplay closet. You’d have your wall scrolls in the living room. Don’t give me that.”

“Depends on where I’m living, I guess,” I let out a heavy, depressed sigh, “I don’t know, Julian.”

“Excuse me?” he chided lightly, “What happened to calling me Master, my sweet, little kitty.”

“Forgive me,” I gave him what he wanted. A smile back on my face.

“Found it!” Paul came back into the living room with Julian’s camera in is hand, “Mimi? You ready?”

“Can I, Master?” I asked for permission.

“Of course, you can,” Julian kissed my cheek, “In fact, I have an idea for one.”

“Oh?” I wondered, “What is it?”

“It’d involve me putting on a three-piece suit, though,” he cringed, “Gross. I got into cosplay to keep myself out of shit like that. And it’d only be for background purposes. I’d have Paul do it, but the rest of it I’d rather be doing myself.”

“Would it be Master coming home from work?” I assumed, “Running his Fortune 500 empire?”

“Someone catches on quick,” Julian praised, “I’d say she’s earned a treat.”

“Is it yarn?” I beamed, “I really hope it’s yarn!”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he ran his fingers down my spine, “It’s not yarn.”

“Aww…” I pouted. All of a sudden, my phone started going off, completely breaking me out of the sweet, innocent character, “Oh, goddammit! Who the fuck is calling me? I’m fucking busy!”

“Hang on,” Julian laughed his ass off for a minute, tossing me my phone, “It’s your mom.”

“Oh,” I slid my finger across my phone screen, “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

“I thought you said you were coming straight home after work,” Mom whined, “Where are you?”

“I’m in Kansas City with Veronica,” I lied, “She needed some last-minute things for her homecoming outfit.”

“Ok,” she chirped, doing a complete one-eighty, “When will you be home?”

“I don’t know,” I looked at the clock. Six-thirty, “Nine?”

“It’ll take you that long?” I loved my mother. I really did. But she knew how to drone on when we’re on the phone, “Don’t you have anything she can borrow?”

“Probably not,” I cut her off, “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Fine,” she let me go, “See you soon, honey! I love you!”

“Love you, too,” I hung up and threw my phone on the table, getting back into character, “Now, where were we, Master?”

“I’m going to go get changed,” Julian got up, “Then we can do this shoot. That way, I’m still on my site and you’re not alone.”

“Ok!” I smiled, “I love it! You’re so smart, Master.”

“I try,” he disappeared into his bedroom, “Paul, I swear to God, if you touch her, I’m going to start severing fingers.”

“He would, too,” I confirmed, “The katanas aren’t for show. They’re real. They’re sharp. They’ll kill a man.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Paul defended, “I know to keep my hands to myself!”

“Not helping your cause!” Julian yelled.

“Not that kind of keeping my hands to myself!”

“Don’t worry about it, Paul,” I settled him, “I’m sure he knows better, too. Besides, if you try anything, neko-chan has claws, too.”

“Julian!” Paul called out.

“Yes, dear?” Julian answered.

“Marry her!” he demanded, “Hold onto this girl!”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation,” Julian came out in full Sebastian. How appropriate given Sebastian has a cat problem. The demon may loathe dogs more than anything, but cats? Cats are the very image of perfection, “I plan on holding onto this girl for a while. Marriage isn’t exactly in the cards for either one of us right now, but I’ll keep her.”

“Who else would do adorable cosplays with you?” I teased.

“Kitty’s got a mouth on her,” Julian pulled me into his lap, “Maybe we’ll have to do something about that.”

“I thought you liked my mouth, Master,” I kept my sharp tongue up.

“This could turn into some not safe for work real quick, Mimi,” he pulled on the bottom of the tulle, “Would Master have to get his kitty a shock collar? Or perhaps he’d rather go over my knee instead?

“No, Master,” I dropped my gaze, “I’ll be your good, little kitty. I promise.”

“Good girl,” he praised, “I do owe you a reward, don’t I?”

“Yes, Master!” I perked back up, “What is it?”

“Here,” Julian undid his blue silk tie and dangled it over my face, “it may not be yarn, but it’s the next best thing. And Paul, if you’re not getting any of this, I’m kicking the shit out of you personally.”

“I am,” he assured, snapping away while I absentmindedly swatted at Julian’s tie. Being a cat for a while wasn’t half bad. I was cuddled, petted, loved. I always thought the whole neko fetish was creepy and almost in the realm of bestiality. Technically, I was a humanized cat, so I guess that takes care of the bestiality loophole.

Julian and Paul had me all over the house. Scratching at the curtains. Playing in the empty boxes Julian had from moving. Sitting on the counter. Serving drinks. Just some standard neko poses. But my favorite? That came at the end of the shoot. I was already tuckered out, so I laid my head back in Julian’s lap, ready to fall asleep. All while he kept petting me and holding me, making sure I felt loved. But what else was new? That’s just the way we were.

“Mimi?” he nudged me, “Are you really sleeping on me, baby?”

“I’m tired,” I let out a big yawn and Paul caught it on camera, “Leave me alone.”

“Ok,” he sat me up, “Tell you what. I’m sure you don’t want to go stumbling into your house and have your parents see you like this. Go get changed and I’ll take you home.”

“Ok,” I sighed out, ready to fall asleep right then and there with my head on his chest. Wishing I could, “But I thought we were talking shop for Sunday.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Julian helped me onto my feet, “Some other time. In all honesty, our talking shop is Paul and me playing Final Fantasy.”

“Fine,” I let it go, “You two can be nerds. Think about me while you’re storming the castle and I’m tucked in bed.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” he grinned, “Hurry up. We want to get started.”

“Ok,” I went into Julian’s room and put my regular clothes on again, putting the neko maid away for the day. Then, a sudden realization hit me, “Julian?”

“Yeah, baby?’

“You can’t take me back,” I remembered, “Mom thinks I’m with Veronica.”

“Why did you tell her you were with Veronica?” he wondered.

“Who’s Veronica?” Paul asked.

“My best friend,” I explained, wiping my makeup off in the bathroom, “Remember? Not telling anyone until May? If I spend all my time with you, she’ll know something’s up.”

“I feel like your mistress,” Julian joked.

“You’re not my mistress,” I giggled, “You’re my boyfriend. My main. No mistress.”

“Does this mean I can’t tuck you in?” he pouted.

“I’m sorry,” I stood on my toes, stealing a kiss, “I’ll be over tomorrow morning. Promise.”

“Good,” Julian held me tight against his chest, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” I assured, “But I’ll have Sebastian to keep me warm.”

“And I’ll have Miku,” he gave me one last kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I curled into him.

“And I’d love to get around to some Final Fantasy tonight,” Paul sped things along.

“See you in the morning,” Julian grabbed the door for me.

Just like that, I left his house and headed home. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to pass out on Julian’s couch while he and Paul played Final Fantasy four million and twelve. But alas, I walked into my house, fully prepared to go upstairs and clock out. However, I knew better. There was no way in hell that was happening.

“Mimi!” Mom squeezed me tight as soon as I walked in the door.

“Hi, Mom,” I winced, “Ow…”

“Sorry,” she let me go, “I got a little excited. We haven’t seen you in days!”

“I’m not the one that took the random trip to St. Louis,” I grumbled to myself.

“It had been a while since we went to the boats,” Mom defended, “We thought, why not? It gave you the house to yourself, didn’t it?”

“That it did,” I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back a smile. Binge watching Dramatical Murder with Julian all weekend? Yeah. I’m not complaining.

“So,” Mom joined Dad on the couch, “You know what we did. What did you do?”

“The usual?” Dad assumed, “Boys? Parties? Alcohol?”

“No,” I thought carefully about how to word this where I’m not technically lying, but avoiding certain truths to keep their blood pressure down, “I worked Saturday, hung out in Kansas City on Sunday, had to take care of Veronica on Monday, and Tuesday, I worked. Nothing too exciting.”

“What brought you to Kansas City then?” Mom asked, “Why couldn’t you have gotten whatever Veronica needed on Sunday?”

“I wasn’t with Veronica then,” I cleared up, “I was hanging out with Julian.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Dad jumped down my throat, “It’s like you’re constantly up his ass or he’s up yours.”

“There’s nothing going on,” I rolled my eyes, “And we’re not always around each other. I was just with Veronica.”

“But where were you last night?” Mom pointed out.

“Julian’s,” I knew what she was trying to get at, “Where I slept on his couch because we’re friends. Not together. We’re not going to be together. We were working on a script for a children’s play one of his friends is doing.”

“That’s so sweet,” she awed, “What’s it called?”

“Currently untitled,” I thought on my feet, “But we’ve been working hard on it.”

“What’s it about?” Dad wondered. Weird. He’s never taken an interest in my writing.

“It’s about a little boy learning magic,” I felt a warmth in my heart, “And how his teacher is a jerk, but his teacher’s daughter is his best friend. It’s a very heartwarming story.”

“Let us know when it’s done,” Mom insisted, “I’m sure that’d be adorable to see.”

“Sure,” I nodded, “If it’s alright with you, I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.”

“Long day at the café?” Dad asked.

“Yeah,” I cringed internally, “It’s been a long day and Veronica can be really exhausting when she’s indecisive. Good night.”

“Night, sweetie.”

I ran upstairs to my bedroom and shut my door. Shit. This had become more elaborate than I anticipated. Now, my parents want to see the fake children’s play that Julian and I are writing together. All I did was describe early Royai! My love life was none of their business. I didn’t have to share anything with anyone. Everything was fine. Just need to keep the bases covered.

“Hey,” Julian chimed on the other end of the phone, “Miss me already? Need me to play Peter Gabriel at your window?”

“No,” I shook my head at him, “We might be in a bit of a quandary.”

“What kind of a quandary?” the game music stopped, “Is everything ok?”

“Hi, Mimi!” Paul chirped in the background.

“What’s up?” Julian ignored him.

“In order to get my mom off my back about staying with you,” I confessed, peeling my dress off, “I told her we were working on a project together. Right now, she and my dad were grilling me about said project. If she asks you, it’s a children’s play that one of your friends in Kansas City is doing and they asked us to do the script.”

“Ok,” he rolled with it, “I’m failing to see where we’re in the proverbial pickle here, Mimi. They know you’re with me. They know you’re doing a thing. They know you’ll be in Kansas City a lot. What’s the problem?”

“They want to see it,” I worried, “How do you figure we get out of that one, Mr. Answer for Everything?”

“That is a quandary,” Julian agreed, “We’ll find some little kids. Paul, you have pull at the theatre in Kansas City, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Paul confirmed.

“Awesome,” I let out a sweet sigh of relief.

“What’s it about?” Julian asked.

“What I wrote this morning,” I filled him in, “The story of fetal Royai.”

“Aww…” he drawled, “Seeing that play out with little kids sounds adorable! But so we don’t have to go through the hassle of putting it on, we could say it got dropped.”

“I love you, Julian,” I threw myself on my bed, “You’re a godsend some days.”

“I’m a godsend every day,” he corrected me, “Now, go to sleep, Mimi. Don’t make me come over there.”

“You’d be way too willing for me to make you,” I teased.

“Very true,” he gave it to me, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I curled into Sebastian.

“See you in the morning.”

Click.

I emptied out my bag and put my neko maid back on the hanger. With a quick spray of Febreze, I hung it back in my closet with everyone else. I didn’t wear it very long, so I didn’t expect it to be too terribly bad. Not enough to warrant washing it. Still, not a bad practice to get into. However, I did have something in my bag I didn’t want to spray. Because it still felt comforting and smelled like man. In the bottom of my bag was a crumpled up gray t-shirt that I drowned in. I knew I’d sleep like shit since I’m out of whiskey and I’m sleeping alone, but this would make it a little easier.

I might not have Julian, but I had the next best thing. I just hope he doesn’t get pissed at me for stealing his t-shirt. Doubtful. I’m sure he’d let me have it and anything I needed to help me sleep that wasn’t booze. This way, I’d wake up well-rested. Regardless, I’d still want to go back to sleep as soon as I hit his bed again. Only eight hours away. That was all I had to wait.

Until then, I buried my face in my Sebastian pillow. He brought me back to Julian. Thank you, Sebastian. Maybe you’re not quite a demon, but an angel in disguise. Kind of like Julian. Even though the Black Butler angels are dicks. However, you brought me back to my beloved. My real beloved. I hoped to God that Miles won’t be back in town for the weekend. Not that it’d matter. I’m going to be in Kansas City with awesome nerds like me. Not like I needed Miles anymore anyway.

#Sorry for Being a Closet Otaku #nanowrimo 2016 #nanowrimo

1 note · View note