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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year

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Pairing : yandere!Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader TW : violence ; blood ; kidnapping ; screaming ; manipulation ; Word Count : 3.5k

Hongjoong was your best friend, he had been that since you were young. As far back as you could remember, Hongjoong had been in your life, he was kind of like a staple in your day to day lifestyle, whether it be hanging out, going to the grocery store together, even just talking on the phone. No matter what, Hongjoong was there, and you knew that he’d always be there. You loved that, knowing that you had someone so constant in your life, someone that would never leave your side, someone that understood you better than you understood yourself sometimes. Maybe that’s why things had gotten so messy, you took everything he did as friendship, you never saw the red flags, you refused to, and that was the biggest problem, that’s where everything went wrong.

“It’s Saturday, you know what that means!” Hongjoong excitedly announced over the phone, the device held between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled on his shoes, already in the process of leaving his own house to go to yours. When you didn’t respond, he just assumed that you had set the phone down to get your own shoes on, you’d pick back up soon enough and let him know that you were ready to go.

“I actually already went grocery shopping today with Seonghwa. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just got so busy and it slipped my mind. We can go together next week though!” Your voice sounded too peppy, fake even, as if you were trying to keep up some kind of act in front of someone… Was someone there with you? “I have to go now, I’ll call you when I get home. Love you, Hongi.” You chimed at the end before ending the call.

He was baffled, confused, but more than anything, he was furious. How could you do this to him? Saturdays were his days to spend with you, and you just… Leave him behind to spend the day with some new guy? Who the hell was this Seonghwa guy anyway? The only thing he had ever heard about the guy was that he was a new neighbor that moved into the apartment building. You didn’t know the guy though… How could you just carelessly let this new man around you? He could be dangerous, he could hurt you… He could steal you away…

Hongjoong couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t, he loved you too much. All he wanted to do was protect you and keep you safe, that’s why he was always with you, why he always spent time with you. It was to make sure that you were always kept out of danger. You were so naive sometimes, too trusting, he had to be sure that no one would ever take advantage of that, take advantage of you.

But how could you just… leave him like this? Did you not know how much you hurt him right now? Did you not care at all? It was so selfish of you… And he was disappointed that you didn’t even seem to care that what you did would hurt him like this. Did you really love him like you said, or did you just say it to make him go away? It didn’t matter anymore… He needed you to love him. He thought that maybe it would come naturally after being with him for so long, but he could only handle being pushed into the god forsaken friend zone for so long before he had to take matters into his own hands. You would love him, no matter what it took… He’d be sure of that.

Stalking you wasn’t by any means something new, he just hated that it would be called that if you or anyone ever found out. He wasn’t stalking, he was simply monitoring, making sure everything was okay. He was a good friend, and he knew that he’d make a great boyfriend if you just gave him the chance. Why hadn’t you given him the chance yet? Did you not like him? Was there something wrong with him? Was there someone else in your life? Maybe it was the Seonghwa guy, the new neighbor that seemed to come from out of nowhere. Why did that guy have better chances than him? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right.

He sat in the car outside of your workplace, counting down the clock, just waiting for you to leave. He knew your schedule like the back of his own hand, the smile and the wave you’d give your coworkers on the way out the door before heading to the bus stop. Why would you take the bus when he had a perfectly good car that could drive you home? You always said it was because you didn’t want to bother him or inconvenience him… As if that would ever be the case.

Eyes like lasers watched as, right on the minute, you emerged from the glass doors, the almost ritualistic wave as your body was right on the threshold before coming out completely. One quick maneuver had him cruising down the street, stopping at the bus stop just as you got to it. “Hongi?!” You said his name excitedly, running over to the passenger side door and leaning in when he rolled down the window. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”

His heart was hammering with anticipation as he smiled at you, quickly unlocking the door so you could climb in, and you did, you did with no hesitation, buckling the seatbelt around you. “I had the day off and I was in the area, doing some shopping, I thought I’d drop by and see you at work but I guess I got here a little too late.” It was so easy to lie to you, and you believed all of it. He had never given you a reason not to trust him, he was too kind, and maybe that’s why you didn’t like him the way he wanted you to. Maybe he was too friendly… He could surely change things up if that’s what you wanted. He’d do anything for you, he’d be anything for you.

“Shopping without me?” You said, and even if it was teasingly, he couldn’t help but find it hypocritical that you’d say such a thing after what you had done to him. “You’ll just have to show me the haul. Maybe we can go to your place?” God, you were making it so easy for him, and he didn’t waste a second to put the car into drive and take off toward his own house.

There wasn’t an inkling of reluctance when he thought about what he was going to do, and there was no guilt, no regret as those thoughts flooded his mind. He’d finally have you right where he wanted you, and technically, in a way, you had brought it upon yourself. It would have been so easy if you had just given yourself to him, let him love you, love him back. You were so difficult, and while he understood almost everything about you, that was one thing that he just couldn’t comprehend. Why didn’t you love him? Why didn’t you like him enough to even give him a chance?

He pulled into the driveway, quickly pulling the keys from the ignition and handing them to you, an action that had you flashing him a questioning look. “What?” He posed, giving you a small smile, but then you looked at the keys and then back at him and he simply chuckled. “I just need you to unlock the door, I got a lot of stuff.” You eyed him even more now, suspicion glinting in your eyes, and he worried for a moment that maybe you caught on, that you found out what he was planning on doing. He wasn’t sure how you would, but you were always a lot smarter than he was, you found a way to figure out his own brain before even he could.

“Did you get stuff for me? Is that you won’t let me help you carry in the bags?” You asked, and for a moment he was stumped. It’s not exactly that you were wrong, everything in the bags in his trunk was for you, but he didn’t think that your question would be so… innocent. Of course, you would have never been able to find out what he was truly planning, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. He was the best guy that you knew, you told him that all the time. This type of thing happening because of him, it just… It wasn’t feasible.

He let out a chuckle, hoping that you didn’t hear the nerves in the shakiness of it as he playfully nudged your arm. “No, I just don’t want your hands to hurt. It’s groceries and you always complain when you have to carry them in.” Your mouth fell open, but you quickly shut it because you knew he wasn’t wrong, and that only made him laugh more. Oh, how easy it was to be with you, did you feel the same way? If you did… well… He just continues to fall back onto the same question. Why won’t you just be with him?

“Fiiine.” You teasingly sulked, climbing out of the car with a slump to your shoulders, but as soon as you were standing that all too familiar pep was back in your step as you walked up to the front door. This was it, things could either go very well, or awfully wrong. Either way, he had a solution for both depending on how things turn out. Obviously he’s hoping for the best case scenario, and considering the fact that the two of you had known each other for so long, he really feels like that’s how things will go. Everything will be alright, you’ll welcome his love and even return it. Maybe all you needed was for him to make the first move…

The bags were dangling from his fingers as he walked into the house, momentarily setting them down to lock the door behind him before grabbing them back up and going straight to you. “You wanna see some of the stuff I got?” Your eyes dropped down to the decorative little bag that was sat on the coffee table and then up to him, your eyes bright as you nodded. “Okay… Don’t laugh or anything… Promise…” You held out your pinky to him, the silent form of promises that the two of you had been making since you were children.

Your legs were bouncing with anticipation as his hand dipped into the bag, pulling out the lace lingerie set, not even breathing as he held it out for you to see. “That’s really pretty, Hongi!” You chimed, your fingers delicately tracing along the pattern of the lace. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend though! How could you hide something like that from me!? I’m your best friend!” Your bottom lip jutted out into a pout and he shook his head, holding the garment out to you.

“It’s for you…” He whispered, and you were stunned for a second, a small giggle of awkwardness leaving your lips before you shook your head. Why were you denying him? Maybe you were just… too shy to wear something like that in front of him. “You’d look so beautiful in it, I know you would…”

“Hongjoong…” You whispered, nervously rubbing your palms against your legs as you looked around the room, why wouldn’t you look at him? “That’s really uhm… sweet of you… but… I’m, I can’t… That… I-“ You sighed softly, nervously gnawing on your bottom lip. “Seonghwa wouldn’t be very happy about that…”

Seonghwa… Was there something there that you hadn’t told him about yet? “What do you mean? Are you and him… Are you with him?” Hongjoong asked, his voice barely able to get above a whisper as he dropped his gaze to the floor. It had been a thought, but he never wanted to think deeper about it, he didn’t want to accept that thought. Your head slowly nodded in agreement to his question and he didn’t know how to take it. His heart was breaking but he was filled with rage, not at Seonghwa though, at you, for hurting him so much.

His fists balled up at his sides, gripping into the fabric of the piece that he had gotten for you, the bag behind him filled with even more items that you’d most likely deny. “Hey…” You murmured, scooting closer to the edge of the couch and reaching out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you immediately… I just wanted to make sure that things were actually good between Seonghwa and I before I broke the news.” Right, because every single time you’d get with someone they’d inevitably leave you and you’d come crying to him, your personal therapist and tissue box, but never anything more. He was tired of being used by you… It was time for him to finally get something in return.

“Wear it…” He spoke through his teeth, forcing the lingerie piece into your face practically, and you leaned back against the couch, clearly shocked by the sternness in his voice. “Wear it now… Dammit, I bought it for you and you’re gonna wear it. I waste my time, I waste my money on you, and you just choose the first guy that comes into your life and shows interest in you until they get into your pants. I’m not your emotional support animal that you can come cuddle up with when you get done being a hoe and having your heart broken.”

You shivered under the cold glare he was giving you, your bottom lip trembling as his words tore through you, your eyes welling up with tears. He hated to see you like this, but clearly the first plan, the one that he initially thought would work hadn’t worked at all. It was time for plan B, the premeditated attack on you that he had already prepared himself for. Your tears wouldn’t have him stopping, the only thing that would make him stop would be you finally giving in and agreeing to be with him. “Is that… Really how you feel, Hongi? You think I’m a hoe? You think I’m a waste of time?” Your voice was broken, crackly and pathetic, and you looked just as sad as you sounded as the tears trickled down your cheeks. “I can just leave… If that’s what you want…”

Of course you were trying to play sweet, innocent, acting like you hadn’t been dragging his heart through mud and shards of glass for the last 5 years. Like you haven’t made him endure as much heartbreak as you every time he felt like he would finally have you. “No…” He mumbled the word, dropping the piece into your lap and then taking a step back, only enough to give you room to get up off the couch. “You’re not leaving… Not until you wear it. I want to see you in it… The least you can do is that.”

Your head shook violently as you pushed the piece onto the floor, taking the chance, although calculated, to stand up. “No! You’re being a real asshole right now, Hongjoong. I want to go home.” You tried to walk to the door, and for some reason, as much as it hurt to be rejected by you, this time was fun because he knew… You weren’t leaving. You weren’t going anywhere. He let you walk, he let you get close enough to the door that you felt like you had some say in what was going on, like you had some sort of power, but just before your hand could grab onto the doorknob, his arms were wrapping around you and pulling you back towards the couch.

The little scream you let out was just as useless as your attempt to leave, his hand quickly covering your mouth before throwing you down on the couch, picking up the clothes off the floor and dropping them onto your lap once more. “I’m the asshole…” He mused, staring down at you, his head tilted like a dog's would. “For loving you… For doing everything for you… I’m the asshole.” His voice became shrill as he leaned in closer. “If you think I’m an asshole now, you haven’t seen the most of it, you haven’t seen half of it.” His blood was pumping through his veins, and it was almost scary to him how much joy he got out of seeing you so scared yet so weak in front of him. “I’m tired of you playing with me, playing with my heart, with my emotions…. It’s my turn to play with you.”

Your head dropped, your body shrinking in on itself, yet you still had the courage to speak, to talk back to him. “Why can’t you be happy just being my friend… my best friend? Why do you need more than that?” You whispered faintly, and the question for some reason had his blood boiling. Why couldn’t you understand his emotions, his feelings? He always did his best to understand yours.

“It’s not good enough anymore…” He said matter of factly, his fingers gripping your chin and slowly lifting your head so you’d look at him. “Why do they get to have you in every single way… And all I get is a little hug and maybe cuddled if you’re sad enough? Why do they get to break your heart and you force me to deal with the aftermath of it? Why can’t you see that I’m in love with you, I’m infatuated with you… And I’m done watching everyone else treat you like garbage. If I don’t get to have you… Neither can they. You’ll learn to love me the right way at some point.” He let you go, your head falling forward once his fingers left your chin, quiet sniffles sounding out from behind him as he walked away. “Why are you crying?” He mumbled, grabbing the bags off the floor and pulling out the contents that were inside.

“That’s a stupid question…” Your whimpered response only had him chuckling as he continued emptying the bags. “If you loved me… You wouldn’t be doing this.” You tried to reason, but his head only shook. He was doing this because he loved you, and you still refused to understand. “W-We’re better as friends… Hongi… You know that.” Your attempt at persuasion was for nothing, he already knew that you’d try this and he had prepared himself for that, he had prepared himself for everything.

“You think we’re better as friends…” He hissed, grabbing one of the items that he had lined up along the coffee table, quickly whipping around and pointing it in your face, the light of the room reflecting off the shiny metal blade that was mere inches from your cheek. “I’m tired of being just friends… I want more, I deserve more. I’m done being stuck in the friend zone… You’ll be mine whether you want to be or not.”

You visibly held your breath, fear gleaming in your tear filled eyes as the edge of the blade moved closer to your cheek. “You’re crazy… out of your mind…” You tried to move away from the sharp edge of the knife, but he moved it closer, pressing the edge further against your skin until a small sting was felt along with the warm trickle of what you could only assume to be blood that moved down to your chin. “Please…” You whimpered, your face contorting into one of pain as he continued to press the knife deeper into your skin.

“All you have to do is love me… Once you do that, everything will be okay.” He pulled the knife back just enough to drag it lightly to your hair, using the tip to tuck your hair behind your ear, reveling in the way you shuddered. So weak for him, and only for him, not that you really had a choice to be anything but weak and submissive for him, it was the only thing you could do. “Now… are you gonna put that on for me or am I gonna have to force you to wear it?”

You took a shaky breath, your nose sniffling as you meekly nodded your head. “Fine… I’ll… I’ll wear it…” You grabbed the outfit off the floor and stood up, your legs wobbling once you got to your feet. “I hate you though… I’ll never love you… ever…”

For some reason you got cocky once you were standing, maybe it’s because for the moment you were standing above him, but he found it cute how you thought you really had a choice in the matter, how you thought he actually cared whether you truly loved him or not. “Doesn’t matter, you’re stuck here anyway.” He was so nonchalant about it, and maybe it was because he truly didn’t have to worry anymore. Not about you being with anyone else, about you loving anyone but him. Even now, even if you didn’t love him, there would be no one else for you to love. “I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look, angel. Get done quickly, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

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jinmindeulle · 3 years

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hot chocolate | jyh (2)

part 2/3

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 jeong yunho x reader, yang hongseok x reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 2.4 k

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 angst, fluff / enemies to lovers au, tv news au, newsanchor!yunho x newsanchor!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 mentions of sex and cursing

main masterlist | ateez masterlist

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚

To say that it was her fifth mental breakdown of the day was an understatement.

Y/n was preparing the report that her boss had asked her as the last part of her application for the job. It was just a simple story that she would later have to present on the live show right after Yunho’s. She had decided to talk about important women around the world as she felt confident in that area. She knew a lot about the topic of feminism and the importance of speaking up. That, however, didn’t spare her from feeling like a total failure when she asked Hongseok to proofread the script for her and he made a face.

“Are you sure you are not going to go off at a tangent if you talk about this topic? You know that your speech should flow, and when you are talking about something that you are passionate about or you know a lot of, you usually beat about the bush”

“What do you suggest? Changing the topic last minute?” she whined, plopping down Hongseok’s couch, right next to him.

“Narrow it down. You’re being too general here. Be more specific and don’t talk just to show off”

“Got it” y/n snatched the paper away from her friend and went back to her ‘workplace’ — Hongseok’s kitchen table.

Editing scripts was the part that she hated the most. Her usual job rarely involved that, because she was in charge of doing the research, checking and double-checking sources and outlining the report. Sometimes she wrote them just to avoid loosing that side of the job, but her department co-workers were the ones who proofread and corrected the script multiple times, not y/n.

That’s why she was staying the night at Hongseok’s. He was an expert in that field, his job as a script-writer for the Night Show helping him improve his skills more and more with every new story. What took the man a couple of hours to finish, took y/n her whole Saturday afternoon, and if it wasn’t for him, she would probably spend her entire weekend crying over her script.

“How’s that going?” Hongseok approached her from behind, placing his arms around her waist and his chin on her shoulder, rapidly scanning the words on her screen.

“Check yourself” she yawned, throwing her head backwards and accommodating it on the space between his neck and shoulder.

“Why don’t you have a warm shower? I have already called the pizza place and it won’t take long for them to arrive”

The girl sleepily nodded and left the chair as soon as her friend released her. He took her seat to keep reading her script, so she moved quickly to the bathroom. Now undressed and with the water warming up, she stretched her back, putting her hair up on a messy bun that prevented it from getting soaked. As soon as she entered the steamy shower, her mind took off.

And it landed on Jeong Yunho. Was that even necessary? She scoffed, turning around to make the hot water ease some of the back pain.

She would never admit it, but back then she had had a massive crush on him. Who would blame her, though? He was the most handsome man around campus, and he was all the time smiling. He had that special grin of his that lit up the darkest room.

But he had never showed that side of his to her. Maybe because she was his only competition in college who could actually beat his perfect records, or maybe because she was all the time with Hongseok. The truth was that Yunho had always avoided and ignored her every time she had dared to speak to him outside college hours.

So it had come as a surprise seeing him at the Seoul Morning News’ building two years before. She had been working there for a couple of months, and all of her ex-classmates knew that thanks to Hongseok, who proudly told the world about her rapid success. Why would he ever apply for a job that involved working with a person he hates? She never understood that, but at the same time didn’t even bother to question his decision.

An hour later and with a full stomach, y/n was all spread on Hongseok’s couch, her head on his thigh and his hands massaging her scalp “You’re too good to me, Hongie” she whispered, hugging his leg.

“I just love you” he replied. Out of shock, she sat up in a matter of milliseconds and looked at him with wide eyes “Don’t be silly. Not like that” he laughed, patting her head “I love you as a friend, and I love fucking you as a friend too”

“I saw my life flashing in front of my eyes for a second” she heavily breathed out, placing her hand on her chest, right on her heart.

“I’m sorry” he grinned, placing a soft kiss on her lips “I like messing around with you sometimes”

“Sometimes?” she raised one eyebrow, sitting on his lap and straddling his waist with her legs.

“Well, that depends what kind of ‘messing’ you are referring to” he smirked, rubbing his hands up and down her lower back.

“Why don’t you show me?”

“My pleasure, hun”

“I messed up” she cried, holding her phone with shaky hands “I messed up so bad, Hong”

“Why? What happened?” his concern was tangible even through the phone.

“I went blank for I don’t know how long. I completely forgot about my script and had to improvise a section of it. It was terrible. I’m a failure, and I’m not going to get the job at all. He was perfect. Yunho was amazing, as he always is. And I won’t blame Mr. Jung when he chooses him because he deserves that place more than anyone in here” y/n sobbed, sitting down on her desk, feeling how the shame and humiliation drowned her in tears.

“Y/n, I’m sure you’re just exagg-”

“I’m not, Hongseok! It was the worst thing I have ever done. I messed up and I know that. I missed the chance to get the job of my dreams. And I will never get another one of this”

When she decided that it was time to let her friend do his job in peace, she realized that she could not to go back outside of her office and face her co-workers who were expecting her to keep on her daily work without recomposing herself first. With heavy steps, she entered her little toilet and removed all of her make up. Washing it off and doing it again was the only reasonable option. Some minutes later, she found herself looking way better, but just hoping for her puffy eyes to go back to normal in a couple of hours top.

She left her office with her heard high but avoiding eye contact. It was hard to admit, but she knew that all of them had seen her embarrass herself in front of their boss. How was she supposed to come back from that? Her reputation was a joke right now.

“Miss Lee, I want to speak with you for a second”

Her eyes opened widely upon hearing her boss’ voice behind her. She turned around in a slow manner, reminding herself not to cry in front of him “Sure” Following the petit man to his office, she took some deep breaths to keep her heart from pounding that hard against her chest.

“So” Mr. Jung spoke up once they were settled “How do you feel?”

Y/n heavily exhaled and looked down, playing with the end of her black pencil skirt, a bad habit of hers when she felt anxious “I could have done much better”

“I believe just the same, my dear. I understand that you were nervous, though. It felt the same for me when I was the one being tried, so don’t worry too much. I know your potential” the man smiled, leaning over his desk “That’s why I’m giving you the job”

She had to have heard him wrong. He was giving her the position after messing up like that on her one and only chance? Was he even there when she went blank on national television?

“Wha-” she cut herself off, feeling how a thousand different emotions flowed inside her body.

“You showed me that you have the skills to be in front of the camera with a script, and without one. It was impressive, how in a matter of seconds you were able to keep on talking with Taeki about the issue like nothing had happened, like you never got lost in your own world”

“But I did get lost” she mumbled, feeling the tears blurring her vision once again.

“So what? It is not about following the script all the time, y/n. You are a professional when you know how to manage, how to get yourself out of a problem in just seconds. Everyone is talking about that, and you should be proud of yourself”

“I… I can’t believe this” she let out a laugh, completely out in disbelief.

“And you know what? You were so good that even Yunho decided to let you have the job”

The tears that had gathered in her eyes fell down her face altogether upon hearing Mr. Jung’s confession “What?” y/n asked, completely out of shock.

“As you hear it. He came to me an hour or so after we finished, and told me that you deserved the job more than he did. That you were capable of that and even more. I didn’t know that you went to college together! You didn’t seem like you were friends to me”

“We are not friends, Mr. Jung” y/n shook her head, drying her tears with the back of her hand “I can’t believe he told you that”

“Me neither. He seemed really enthusiastic about this job last week. But anyways, congratulations! Your training starts tomorrow. We have just a few days to get you ready to be our new news’ anchor”

She left that office with the most contradicting feelings she had ever felt. Of course, she was overjoyed. The fucking job of her damned dreams was hers! She had failed the task, but she got it despite of it. However, the fact that Yunho had given up his chance just to let her have it was not leaving her heart anytime soon. Why would he do that? He would never abandon such an opportunity just because she deserved it. Who thought like that nowadays? Who was that selfless?

Apparently, Yunho was. So she decided to wait for him outside the building three hours later. She knew he had the same schedule as Jaehyun, who always left half an hour after her.

Winter was her favourite season. Wearing long coats and fluffy scarves was her most enjoyable activity. But sometimes, having snow falling on her when she was out and about bothered her a little. Not like she was willing to admit that, especially to Hongseok, who defended summer with all of his passion. Luckily for her, the hot chocolate cups that she was holding kept her hands warm.

Just when she was about to leave, assuming that Yunho had left earlier, she distinguished his large frame going out of the building. He was busy putting on his gloves, so he never realized she was standing right next to him. She faked a cough, and it took a couple more to make him aware of her presence.

“Oh-sorry! My mind was somewhere else. How are you?” he smiled at her, and this time, it felt real. He had no second intentions, no secret plans. Just a genuine smile.

“I’m happy” she admitted, a little smile plastered on her own lips “Mr. Jung gave me the job”

“Right! I heard about that. Congratulations, y/n, you really deserve it. And I mean it”

“You know…” she replied, tearing her eyes away from his, which were looking at her with great intensity “He told me that you gave up the job”

Maybe it was because of the cold, but Yunho’s cheeks were painted a deep shade of pink. He looked across the street, shoving his hands on his coat’s pockets, and fought back a nervous smile.

“Why would you do that?” she pushed, taking advantage of his panicky state.

“You were the best candidate out of the two of us”

“That’s not what I want, Yunho” she scoffed “You made it clear that you would fight for the job, and that you always won. What happened today?”

“Nothing”

Y/n sighed. He was a hard one.

“Yunho, don’t be like that. I messed up and you did an outstanding job. You were the one who deserved that position, and you know that. So why? Why would you give it up?”

“I heard you crying” he confessed, looking at her right in the eye “I heard you when you told Hongseok that it was your dream job, and I just couldn’t do it. How awful as a person would I be to tear your dreams apart when I have the power to just help them become a reality? I know that you think of me as a selfish, competitive bastard. But I’m not like that. It was just-”

“A façade” she interrupted him, feeling how her eyes flooded with tears “But you just put it out for me”

Yunho sighed, and cursed with a deep mumble.

“It’s okay” y/n shook her head, fighting the tears back “You don’t have to explain anything. I get that you don’t like m-”

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not that at all” the boy took his hands out of his pockets and placed them on the sides of her arms.

“Really, Yunho, don’t worry about that. I just wanted to thank you. I’m not sure if I deserve that but I’ll make sure not to let you down” she exhaled heavily, taking a step back in order to leave “Oh! I almost forgot” she extended one of her arms towards him “This is for you. I know that you don’t like coffee so I bought hot chocolate instead. As a thank you” she smiled weakly.

And with that she left Yunho behind, standing all by himself under the falling snow, and looking at the paper cup with disbelief. She had remembered.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

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strifescloud · 4 years

Text

the sky overhead will burn, but not for long

5.7k words, akashi kuniyuki/tsurumaru kuninaga, toumyu compliant-ish / post kishou hongi

semi-sequel to soft hands by akame_no_youkai

It’s an omamori, just like the one he had given Tsurumaru weeks ago, only this one is bizarrely, charmingly misshapen. The pale fabric gleams beneath the moonlight just as Tsurumaru does, and there is an odd lumpiness to it as Akashi turns it over in his hands.

He thinks, as something heavy lodges itself in his throat, that he can see Tsurumaru’s crooked, brilliant smile in every uneven stitch.

“It’s not as nice as the one you made me - but, you know, ever since then you keep getting hurt in all kinds of silly ways.”

read on ao3

Akashi’s arm heals - slowly, painfully, but it does heal, the frustratingly tedious process of his flesh knitting itself back together stretching on for days into weeks into losing count of how long it had been.

It leaves a scar, and he wonders if he is the first among them to keep his flesh marred in this way, an imperfection left in his skin that didn’t reflect the metal he had been born from. He stares at it sometimes when no one else is looking, shrugs off the odd comments he gets from the others - I just wasn’t motivated to go get it fixed, and look what happened before I knew it - and quietly runs his fingers over the shiny, uneven skin. It doesn’t hurt anymore aside from the memories it draws to the surface, and there’s something about it that sticks in his mind, the way their new bodies were so delicate and easily wounded, failures painted on their skin that couldn’t be erased as easily as scratches on a blade’s surface.

His second scar comes from an unfortunate farming accident that really isn’t Kuwana’s fault, even if he apologises like it is - and Akashi would find some humour in the utter disarray of Koryuu’s hair when he starts dragging him to the infirmary and Kuwana’s fluttering panic if he wasn’t focused on the pain in his leg, blood dripping down onto the floor of the citadel and oh, someone will have to clean that later.

He’s still staring at the floor, at least it was my leg this time, but now my pants have a hole in them when a familiar voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Akashi?” Tsurumaru asks, disbelievingly, “Weren’t you on farm duty today?” Akashi laughs, the pain from the gash down his calf seeming to recede for a moment at the sound of Tsurumaru’s voice, even if he’s sure it was his imagination.

“You should have joined us, Tsurumaru-han,” He replies dryly, waving his hand airily, “it was full of surprises.”

That draws a laugh out of Tsurumaru as well, and there’s a brief exchange Akashi doesn’t really take in as Koryuu’s arm leaves his side and Tsurumaru’s takes its place. It frustrates him a little, that everything feels a little like a dream except for the warm blood that drips down his skin, and Tsurumaru laughs again so he must have said that out loud. Damn.

“That will happen when you’ve got a hole in your leg that big.” Tsurumaru says, and there’s a reassuring tap of fingers on his elbow as he’s pushed to keep moving forward. Yagen clicks his tongue at him when they arrive at the infirmary, waving Akashi forward to sit on one of the beds, but when he reaches for a healing token Akashi frowns at him.

“Can’t you just bandage it up?” Yagen furrows his brows at him and Akashi looks down, “Come on, spare me the speech this time. It won’t kill me, so just let it heal on its own.”

Tsurumaru is still lurking somewhere in the doorway, and Akashi doesn’t look at him either.

“Fine,” Yagen allows, reaching for a different box of supplies, “I figured you’d say that, anyway.”

The sutures burn and pull at his skin, Akashi watching intently as the flesh is knit back together, and Tsurumaru is still there. Akashi brushes past him when he finally leaves, limping slightly and intent on sleeping until the pain subsides, and he is not followed.

Some time after, Tsurumaru is called to a mission - a short one, at least, but Akashi frowns at him when a blur of white bursts into his room to say goodbye.

“Lucky you, not called out this time - or not so lucky, I guess.” Tsurumaru grins and pokes at Akashi’s still-bandaged leg, and though he barely feels the pain Akashi groans and rolls away on his futon.

“It huuuuurts,” He whines petulantly, levelling an exaggerated frown at Tsurumaru’s bright grin, “don’t assault an injured man.”

“There was an easy solution to that, you know.” There’s a hint of seriousness hidden behind Tsurumaru’s perpetually lighthearted tone, which Akashi pretends not to hear.

“Nothing wrong with doing things the old-fashioned way.” He says in lieu of the answer Tsurumaru was searching for, ignoring the piercing golden gaze that rests on his face. Tsurumaru’s hand returns to his arm and it lingers, the other sword oddly silent as if searching for something to say, but finally he just gets up and leaves, shooting him a salute and another too-bright grin on his way out.

Tsurumaru returns from his mission unharmed, a few days later and looking exactly the same as when he left. Akashi, however, manages to spill boiling water all over his right hand in a quest for tea late at night, and the burn it leaves across the delicate skin itches furiously for days. The skin turns an angry red, a constant heat radiating off it, and when Tsurumaru stops by on his return he laughs even as he picks up Akashi’s hand in delicate fingers, thumb brushing gently across the back of Akashi’s knuckles.

“You haven’t had much luck lately, have you?” He says with a laugh, Akashi rolling his eyes at him and snatching his hand back.

“Guess you took it all. Look at you, not a scratch on you.” He replies, and it’s true - Tsurumaru gleams even in the dimmed light of Akashi’s room, somehow both looking gentle and carrying a deadly poise in his shoulders as he sits, and it makes something odd settle in Akashi’s throat so he turns his eyes away. Tsurumaru laughs at his words, and even without looking back Akashi’s mind conjures up the sparkle in his eyes that always accompanies the sound.

It’s comfortable, the silence they fall into, even as Akashi falls back on his futon to stare at the ceiling, sprawled ungraciously and trying not to scratch at the burning pain on his hand. The silence stretches on into something, bordering on territory they had both not been talking about, and Akashi feels the urge to break it.

“It’s so itchy,” he complains, voice stretching into a whine he knows is just short of obnoxious, “why do healing things always itch. It’s awwwful.” Just thinking about it makes it worse, really, and his other hand makes an aborted movement to finally scratch at the aggravating sensation before he remembers.

Then fingers close around his unmarred hand again, and that something feeling is back.

“Don’t scratch at it, then, you’ll make it worse.” Tsurumaru says lightly - almost too lightly, Akashi would think, if he wasn’t aware of how casual Tsurumaru sounded no matter how dire the situation. The other sword isn’t looking at him, and Akashi wonders if that strange sensation takes root in Tsurumaru’s chest too, if they’re both afraid of it. He closes his fingers around the hand that has taken his, ever so slightly.

“I guess that omamori I gave you worked, huh?” He says, because he may as well. Tsurumaru finally looks back at him, smile smaller and unfamiliar - and there’s some weird feeling that crawls under Akashi’s ribs at the sight, because Tsurumaru’s looking at him like that and he doesn’t know how to unravel it, “You haven’t been hurt once since.” Tsurumaru’s fingers shift around the loose grip he has on Akashi’s hand, but his expression only brightens. Akashi worms his way further onto the futon, trying to get more comfortable but still not removing his hand from Tsurumaru’s almost nervous hold, “How I envy you.”

The laugh he gets in answer eases the odd weight in his chest, but it doesn’t fully leave until Tsurumaru exits his room much later, finally taking the strange atmosphere with him.

At some point, Akashi wonders if he really had given Tsurumaru all his luck - he is plagued by minor mishaps, paper cuts and tiny burns leaving tiny slivers of scar tissue across his hands. One day on kitchen duty, Tsurumaru bursts in the room with a loud bwah that makes him jump, pricking his finger on his knife and cursing exaggeratedly at the other sword in high, strained tones.

When he puts his injured finger in his mouth, heedless of the metallic tang of blood, he tries not to notice the intent golden stare that follows the movement.

His poor fortune strikes its hardest, though, when they’re finally sent on a mission together.

The attack comes at dawn, the footsteps of the History Retrograde Army softened by the blanketing quiet of snow across the mountains, and by the time they notice the approach it’s almost too late.

But, Akashi thinks as he shifts out of the way of an oncoming blade, trying to put a tree between him and his assailant to gain some ground, it could probably be worse. Somehow.

He manages to take his enemy’s head clean off, not sparing a moment to watch it sink into the snow before he is spinning around again, trying to see where to move next. The tides were turning in their favour, he thinks - hopes - and he can hear the heavy sweep of Taroutachi’s blade as it cuts through their foes, Taikogane’s enthusiastic war cries, Kotegiri’s triumphant shout.

Akashi’s heart doesn’t slow, though, because he can’t see Tsurumaru anywhere.

He turns, scanning the expanse of white for a glimpse of gold - because of course, they’d made enough jokes on the way here about Tsurumaru blending in with the snow-covered landscape that he knows he won’t spot the usual flutter of sleeves, spread wide like wings - and thinks he barely sees a glimmer between the trees, moving towards it as quietly as he can. The clashing of blades rings across the sparse forest, but the echo makes it hard to know where it’s coming from, and while he can hear the others he hasn’t heard the clear voice of Tsurumaru yet.

He takes another step forward, and another, and another - there he is, locked in combat but a brilliant smile splitting his face still, lightly springing out of the way despite the way his feet sink into the snow. If Akashi could spare a moment to admire it, he would, but even the effortless beauty in the way Tsurumaru moves doesn’t draw his attention from the enemies that still storm through the woods.

Akashi sweeps in to catch a strike at Tsurumaru’s side, ears ringing with the clash of blades that almost drowns out the way the other laughs.

“Feeling motivated, Akashi?”

Akashi guts another opponent, kicking the twitching body away from him as he spins to catch another strike, letting out an annoyed scoff. The swarm of the History Retrograde Army seems endless, far outnumbering the mere six of them - though really, Akashi thinks as he scans the approaching enemies, backing up until his back pressed against Tsurumaru’s, perhaps he should think of them as two. He can’t see the others through the thick trees and cover of snow, so they can’t rely on their aid.

“Motivated to get the hell out of here.” He drawls, fingers flexing as he moves his sword into his left hand, Tsurumaru’s presence warm at his side as they press back against the approaching enemies. Even in the heat of battle there’s a part of him that revels in it, how well they fight together, their instincts aligning - that is, until they don’t.

It’s a tiny slip, but a costly one. Tsurumaru is tired - Akashi can see the beginnings of sluggishness in his blows, though his sword does not waver. He had been fighting alone for a long time before Akashi came, and it had caught up to him now, and that’s probably why he doesn’t see the blade that swings towards his back.

Akashi does, however, and panic digs its icy claws into his mind.

They hadn’t talked about what was going on between them yet - a touch stolen here and there, a hesitant hand curled around his, a charm sewn with careful fingers - but whatever it was, Akashi felt it spur his legs into action, putting himself between Tsurumaru and the cold steel, the thought of gold eyes filled with pain chilling him more than the ice around them.

It’s almost funny, he thinks, how he feels the warm blood spilling down his chest more than the wound itself.

He pushes back against the monstrous foe in front of him, who seems almost frozen in shock at the way Akashi had just thrown himself into his blade’s path, shoving his own sword through its gut with a pained grunt. It topples backwards as he wrenches his sword out, Akashi stumbling backwards as he pressed his hand to the gaping slash across his torso.

His hand comes away drenched in blood, dripping onto the ground beneath him. Not good.

Blearily, he thinks that the red splashed across the pure white snow reminds him of something.

“Akashi?” He hears beneath the clang of steel against steel, Tsurumaru finishing off the last of the enemies that remain. Akashi drops to his knees, breathing heavily, sinking into the snow.

“Is that all of them?” He rasps, and something in his voice must make Tsurumaru turn around. The silence is deafening as a hand wraps around his shoulder, Tsurumaru kneeling in the snow beside him.

“Hey, Akashi! Hey, come on.”

“You actually got me to make an effort.” Akashi jokes, though he feels like he can barely get the words out between the flare of agony in his chest and the weight of golden eyes, brows drawn together in concern, “Good job, Captain.”

“Stay with me, Akashi.” There’s a note to Tsurumaru’s voice he so rarely hears, and he wants to savour it - wants to unravel whatever it is that lends its strength to the grip on his shoulder, whether it’s the same thing that made him throw himself between Tsurumaru and the oncoming blade.

But his eyelids feel so heavy - blood loss, he thinks, what a human way to go, both free in their new bodies and at the mercy of their limitations. He probably won’t die here, really. Sword warriors were much more resilient than an ordinary human, after all, and could be repaired far easier.

But as he falls onto the frigid ground, unable to keep himself upright any more, he thinks it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go - with Tsurumaru’s face framed in the dawn light above him, and shock numbing the pain.

He must have said something aloud, because Tsurumaru’s face shifts into something he can’t read.

“Save it for when we’re back at the citadel.”

Akashi’s eyes slip shut.

“Hey, Akashi!”

Distantly, he can hear more voices calling for them.

He awakens to the sight of the infirmary - and he should feel relieved at the sight of it, if not for an odd sensation that flits over his skin, familiar and unfamiliar all at once. He sits up, groaning at how his bones creak and ache, and there is a familiar face at his bedside. Tsurumaru is there, turning the omamori Akashi gave him over in his fingers, though he looks up and immediately hides it away in his sleeves when Akashi lets out another involuntary sound of pain.

Honestly, Akashi can think of no sight more welcome after a near-death experience than the brilliant smile that blooms on Tsurumaru’s face.

“Oh, good! You woke up pretty fast.” And that set a tension across Akashi’s shoulders, because he remembered nearly bleeding to death, and that seemed like something you don’t just wake up from a few hours later.

He looks down at his arm, where his first scar was, and there’s only smooth, unmarred skin.

Of course, the saniwa’s magic restored their forms to their original states, fully repaired just as if they were still a blade, scratches and imperfections being buffed out of the steel. But something about the sight of his arm without the scar he’d grown used to bothers him in a way he can’t name, even after Tsurumaru’s hand closes over his forearm where it used to be.

“Yeah, so, we had to heal you the fast way.” There’s an artificial note to his usual nonchalance, and Akashi’s not sure when he learned to tell the difference.

“I can see that.” He doesn’t really want to let Tsurumaru know it bothers him, but he brings his other hand up closer to his face anyway, inspecting the smooth skin - now free of all the tiny cuts and burns he had accumulated in his new life, his human life, as pristine as the day he manifested.

“Next time, try to stay out of the way of the oncoming swords.” The lightheartedness is too measured, so Akashi shakes his arm out from Tsurumaru’s grip, smiling humourlessly.

“Sorry, Tsurumaru-han. Should have brought someone else on your mission - my lack of motivation really is my selling point, you know, so you shouldn’t have expected anything out of me.”

It is easier for him to fall back on familiar words, to raise a wall between himself and Tsurumaru again. He’s not angry with the other sword - far from it, when relief has settled in his bones at the sight of him unharmed. But he doesn’t know how to deal with this, deal with him, Akashi’s carefully-constructed facade cracking like damaged glass and Tsurumaru’s eyes piercing through the widening imperfections.

He can’t really remember a whole lot aside from pain and blood on the snow, but from the look on Tsurumaru’s face he must have said something - and the significance of that weighs heavily, for two people who so rarely said things they meant.

“Thanks for saving my life, Akashi Kuniyuki.”

That, too, is probably very honest.

“Couldn’t have our captain dying on us.”

Akashi, they both knew, was not.

Yagen comes to kick both of them out - Tsurumaru for being “a nuisance” (and Akashi can’t stifle his derisive sound at the words, even when Tsurumaru shoots him a betrayed look) and Akashi for no longer being on the brink of death.

Even though the healing process was instant, Akashi gives himself a few days to recuperate. The saniwa’s magic left an uncomfortable tingling across the skin for some time after its use, which was enough of a reason for his self-appointed vacation for anyone who came by.

And he doesn’t avoid Tsurumaru, not really - and that’s what he tells Kotegiri when he comes calling, Tsurumaru-san was looking for you, you know, and Akashi does know, because as Tsurumaru said he wasn’t the only one that was good at lurking.

But if they happen to miss each other, because Akashi decided to wander back to his room right before Tsurumaru found him napping on the engawa, that was just an unfortunate coincidence.

He’s not even sure why he does it, really, except that the feeling that had taken root in his chest was terrifying - the way it threatened to force honest words out of his throat now that he’d already let them loose, how it felt as though the blow he’d taken had split his ribcage open and displayed his heart for the world to see, the way it made him feel so vulnerable.

When he cares to think on it - which he doesn’t during the day, but something about the silent creep of night as he stares at the ceiling leads his thoughts down a path he prefers not to walk - he wishes a little that he hadn’t been on that first mission with Tsurumaru at all.

Because he had tried, since manifesting, to steel himself against the weaknesses that he had watched humans be torn apart by for centuries. And then Kotegiri had stepped in front of a blow meant for him so Akashi took one in turn, and his arm had wavered under that hopeful gaze when it came time to shatter the corrupted blade, some part of him marvelling in the aftermath at how weapons could now feel grief.

And then Tsurumaru had come out, drenched in blood, and the odd weakness that had shivered across his skin at the sight was the same force that had moved him almost against his will to stop it from happening again, that day in the snow. So Akashi had indulged himself in humanity, for a bit - letting himself feel, and letting himself be hurt and scarred. But his clear skin was a reminder that he was still a sword spirit, in the end.

(But if he was still just a sword he wouldn’t be so haunted by the way Tsurumaru’s fingers had been a little cold every time they brushed his skin, the concern that had marred the usually carefree face.)

One of the perils of sleeping all day is finding himself too well-rested at night, with only his thoughts for company as he stares sightlessly into the darkness, leading him nowhere as he goes in circles, but they keep him awake nonetheless. He had grown so exhausted by conflict when he was a blade, and now it seemed to live within him, thoughts turning around and around endlessly without reaching a conclusion.

So he’s already awake when quiet footsteps creep past his door, measured and careful, and from the way they avoid that one creaky floorboard he thinks he knows who it is. The measured footsteps begin to fade, passing by his room without missing a beat, and Akashi is curious enough to haul himself out of his futon. The night air is cooler than he thought and he suppresses a shiver, cracking open his door just enough to see a wisp of white fabric disappear around a corner. Expected, but it sparks his interest anyway.

He waits just longer than a moment, letting the footsteps fade beyond his hearing, before he carefully slips out of his room and follows them - whatever brings a phantom past his door at this hour is far more interesting than staring at the walls, and the distraction is welcome. Akashi steps delicately over the problem floorboard, shuffling as quietly as he can down the hall and suppressing the yawn that threatens to escape. It is otherwise silent in the citadel and there are no signs of movement, but if he’s right about who it is he knows where to look.

Sure enough, as he rounds the corner to exit the citadel, he can see Tsurumaru perched on the edge of the engawa. He’s not dressed for battle - Akashi thinks he had seen Tsurumaru out in the fields with Otegine earlier that day, a task that should have left him exhausted, and yet even from afar Akashi can sense an odd energy to him, restless and yet still as he stares up at the sky.

“Tsurumaru-han?” He calls quietly as he approaches, letting his voice sound much sleepier than he actually feels. Let Tsurumaru think he’d woken him, that guilt might let truth slip through the cracks a little easier.

“Akashi?” Tsurumaru replies in the same cadence, unmoving. Akashi shuffles closer, seating himself on the engawa with a quiet sigh as his bones protest at the movement, and follows Tsurumaru’s still gaze to the wide, bright moon.

“You woke me up.” Akashi half-whines, glancing beside him at Tsurumaru’s profile. The moonlight across his figure makes him almost glow in the darkness. There’s a loneliness in the wistful set of his brow and the way he stares up at the sky, an ache settling in Akashi’s chest setting in at the sight and he wants to reach out, but even though he’s only inches away from Akashi’s hand the ethereal glow makes him feel miles out of reach.

Akashi’s breath stills, and he thinks he understands why humans would disturb the dead in search of an eternal beauty - to rescue it from beneath the darkness of the earth, or to covet it for themselves.

Tsurumaru’s eyes finally tear away from the sky to meet his, a familiar yet muted spark of mischief dancing in them, and Akashi knows he’s been caught.

“Did I? Sorry, sorry.”

Even before that day in the snow Akashi hadn’t truly known what this was between them - they didn’t talk about it, but they never really talk about anything, not in words they mean - but he feels like he has to reach out, placing his hand over Tsurumaru’s own where it rests idly on the edge of the engawa, keeping him from taking flight. The skin is icy to the touch, but still he leans closer, letting their forearms and shoulders brush together in a way they both know isn’t accidental.

His thoughts mere minutes ago feel foolish now, right next to Tsurumaru with the unfamiliar weight against his shoulder.

“I thought you were good at sneaking around. How are you going to surprise anyone like this, hm?” Akashi prods, and Tsurumaru laughs instead of answering. He’s looking back at the sky, and Akashi wonders what he sees that makes the moonlight seem like such a burden on his shoulders.

“You’re not hurt again, are you?” Tsurumaru’s question comes after such a lengthy stretch of silence that it surprises him, something he can’t identify hidden beneath the words, “Haven’t seen you for a couple of days - I thought maybe you had been laid low by a terrible papercut.”

Akashi snorts inelegantly, and he feels a slight tremble of laughter from the other sword at the sound.

“I’m not like you. I don’t have the motivation to go getting into trouble all the time.” He yawns for effect even though his facades feel pointless now, some comfort to be found in going through the motions.

“Honestly, what happened with Mitsutada and the potato peeler wasn’t my fault.” At Akashi’s questioning noise, he continues hurriedly, “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be a surprise for you later.”

It’s also comforting, he thinks, that Tsurumaru falls back on his masks too. They’re cut from the same cloth, the pair of them, so old and tired that honesty seems to have slipped from their grasp.

Tsurumaru suddenly lurches to his feet, and Akashi wobbles and steadies himself with his hand on the engawa at the sudden loss of the weight against his side.

“Going somewhere?”

Tsurumaru’s hands close firmly around his bare arm, and Akashi suddenly realises he is only in his sleeveless shirt, having left his jacket back in his room. The other sword tugs at his arm until Akashi reluctantly stands, making a protesting whine as Tsurumaru continues to pull insistently at him.

“C’mon, c’mon!” The light in Tsurumaru’s eyes is genuine now, Akashi thinks, and it’s enough to compel him to follow when Tsurumaru’s hand slides down his forearm to tangle with his fingers, leading him out into the darkness.

“Come where? ” The exasperation in his voice masks the excited thrum of his heart. They’re both barefoot and foolish and the wind is cool against his skin, and they’re not quite running but there’s a purpose that moves Tsurumaru’s feet quickly enough that Akashi has to work to keep up, trying not to let the grip on his hand slip away. He’s not answered - they keep moving forward, up and through the trees and down through the grass, and when Tsurumaru eventually stops it’s so sudden Akashi has to steady himself against the other’s back.

Honestly, Akashi hadn’t ever bothered to go far enough outside the citadel to find the lake here.

The moon is full and bright and it lets him see the small valley perfectly - the soft sway of the grasses in the night breeze, and the way the still water mirrors the vast night sky and the bright full moon, and it’s so beautiful that for a second he feels like he can’t move.

“It’s pretty, right?” Tsurumaru is suddenly behind him, mouth right next to his ear, and Akashi jumps a little despite himself. It draws a brilliant laugh out of the other sword, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night, and that weird feeling in Akashi’s chest feels heavier than ever.

Being human, Akashi thinks, suddenly aware of how his feet are cold and probably filthy and the way the breeze raises goosebumps on his skin and how his heart aches with something he’s not ready to name, is so damn hard.

“I wanted to give you something.” Tsurumaru interrupts his thoughts, and Akashi gives him a bewildered look.

“You couldn’t give it to me back there?” Akashi grumbles, but it’s as empty of real feeling as the too-casual shrug Tsurumaru gives him in response.

Tsurumaru grabs his hand again, pressing something into his hand and closing his fingers around the shape, the scrape of fabric against his palm.

When Akashi brings his hand up, fingers opening, he can’t help but smile at what he sees.

He thinks, as something heavy lodges itself in his throat, that he can see Tsurumaru’s crooked, brilliant smile in every uneven stitch.

“It’s not as nice as the one you made me - but, you know, ever since then you keep getting hurt in all kinds of silly ways.”

“Making sure you don’t get hurt isn’t-” The words force themselves out of Akashi’s throat against his will, and he snaps his mouth shut, immediately cursing his thoughtlessness.

“So maybe that’ll give you a hand, since you’re not exactly motivated to keep yourself out of trouble either.” Tsurumaru continues as if he hadn’t spoken, and the smile that blooms on his face is so beautiful Akashi can’t help but feel his lips curl in response, even as he looks away to try and hide it. But he can still hear the nervous tremor of Tsurumaru’s voice, so perhaps they know each other too well by now to try and hide things - or perhaps they were too similar from the start.

“Tsurumaru-han,” Akashi begins, turning back to him - and Tsurumaru is suddenly very close, still smiling but more subdued, one hand on Akashi’s arm.

“I hope you don’t mind if I steal something, just this once.” Tsurumaru says, before leaning forward and kissing him.

It’s odd, is all Akashi can think at first, because he’s never done this before, and sometimes he still feels like he’s getting used to the way their human bodies are strange and fleshy and yielding in a way that steel never is. It’s not cold like Tsurumaru’s hand against his skin, but rather sends a shock of warmth down to his bones, and the lips against his are soft and gentle like they’re trying not to scare him away - and he is scared, he thinks, because his heart pounds deafeningly in his ears, but he doesn’t want to pull away either.

When Tsurumaru finally pulls back Akashi is still, trying not to let his face betray how suddenly lost he feels, and somehow he both loathes and craves the vulnerability that crawls across his skin.

“Okay there, Akashi?” Tsurumaru asks him, and Akashi lets out a great sigh that lifts a weight from his shoulders.

“Yeah.” He replies, and he feels like it’s okay to lean forward further into Tsurumaru’s space, folding them together even as they stand there in the moonlight, some kind of timid embrace, “Yeah, fine.”

There’s a lot of whirlwind thoughts that race through his mind, like you can kiss me again if you want but I’m not ready to ask you to and I think I know what this feeling is but I don’t want to say it , but he settles for flexing his fingers where they rest on Tsurumaru’s side and swallowing the words that threaten to escape. Tsurumaru’s hand rests gently on his back in answer, and he’s abruptly reminded that though they were both wielded for centuries, Tsurumaru has many years on him.

“Can swords fall in love?” The question is like a shock of ice down Akashi’s spine, but he still doesn’t move away, shrugging with as much deliberate indifference as he can muster.

“Humans can.” He answers evasively, and Tsurumaru hums at him consideringly, the hand on his back trailing over bare skin as it moves down his arm, coming to rest comfortingly on the smooth skin where his first scar had once been.

“Are we human?” The sigh Akashi gives is exasperated, and Tsurumaru laughs quietly again, “Sorry, sorry.”

“I don’t know,” He’s not sure he really feels the frustration in his voice when he’s still wrapped up with Tsurumaru like this, but even if the other sword knows he needs him to understand, “somewhere in between, I guess.”

He’s still clutching the omamori Tsurumaru gave him in his now-cold fingers.

“Well, we can figure it out as we go.” The words are flippant but reassuring, and Akashi remembers that Tsurumaru manifested far earlier than he did, too. Something about it emboldens him, and he taps on Tsurumaru’s arm until the bright eyes turn back to him. Their gaze is questioning but endlessly fond, and Akashi summons the courage to lean forward and brush his own lips against Tsurumaru’s cheek, trying to ignore the swoop in his stomach that feels like being exposed, like the realisation that you’ve left yourself open to a blade in the back.

He eventually lets Tsurumaru take his hand again, lead him back to the citadel, and he does not protest when he is taken back to his own room. Tsurumaru flops down on his futon like he belongs there, and even though Akashi complains about all the dirt they must have tracked inside he doesn’t have the heart to kick him out.

They sleep curled beside each other, some distance between them still but their fingers loosely intertwined.

And though Akashi is woken by a delighted shriek the next morning when Kotegiri comes to ask him something - and he has to throw a pillow at the offending wakizashi and swear him to secrecy, ignoring the way the sparkle in the wide green eyes makes him feel uncomfortably known - there is still something about waking to Tsurumaru next to him, yawning and stretching with a lithe grace that Akashi’s weary bones envy, that lets him feel content rather than annoyed.

Tsurumaru’s right, he thinks. They’d figure it out as they go, together - this tender distance between them, and the terrifying depth of humanity too.

#touken ranbu #tkrb #akashi kuniyuki #tsurumaru kuninaga #strife writes

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cuppatealove · 4 years

Note

4, 13, 16 for the "hi, I'm not from the U.S." ask set? Please?

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

Yeah, here’s the thing: we really don’t have a lot. We’re a very young colony, and most of our food is just slightly bastardised British cuisine, with an increasingly multi-cultural influence. The only traditional Maori dish that I know of is a hangi, which is food cooked underground on hot rocks, but I’ve never had one. I’m probably going to have to say pavlova, which was 100% invented here, and don’t let any Aussie tell you differently!! ;-)

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

Here I will turn to Maori culture, because I don’t think anything fits this description better than a powhiri. This is a welcoming ceremony that includes the karanga (a welcoming call by women), often a haka (a war chant done by men), and a hongi (the “Maori kiss”, where the line of guests files past the line of hosts, pressing their noses and foreheads together). As well as being done privately by Maori people in their own gatherings, it is common here to have a powhiri for opening ceremonies, welcoming foreign guests, that sort of thing (we had one at the start of my university course, for example). Often the foreign guests in question are rather freaked out ;-) There is definitely a tone of voice and certain facial expressions that take some getting used to, but if you’ve grown up with them, it’s just really beautiful and spine-tingling in all the right ways. The haka has been popularised by our national rugby team, and even though I don’t give a hoot about rugby, I am always profoundly moved by the haka, especially when I was overseas.

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most, and one you somewhat agree with?

This one’s probably only relevant within NZ, but the stereotypical kiwi bloke, clad in black singlet, stubbies and gumboots, just makes me cringe. It’s a stereotype personified by a 1970s TV character called Fred Dagg, who also makes me cringe. It’s the black singlet that kills me. Pasty white boys just shouldn’t wear singlets. *shudder* (Incidentally, the first time I met my husband he was dressed like this, at a patriotic dress-up party for the opening ceremony of the rugby world cup. I honestly can’t believe I married him sometimes.)

Kiwis are generally described as being extremely friendly and laid-back. That sounds like a very good thing, and it is, unless of course you are the kind of person who loves tradition and history and cares about the Right Way of doing things. Then you never really fit in. In that case, you might be inclined to spend all your money and youth on visiting Mother England (or Mother Scotland) and break your heart when you have to come home to people who don’t care about anything and aren’t rooted in anything in particular and waft casually from thing to thing and speak with that goshdarn awful accent to boot...

#not from the us ask #thanks for playing!#about me #new zealand #peonymoss

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vixxscifiwritings · 5 years

Text

Samrajya (3/4)

Summary - In an attempt to consolidate his empire in new lands, Taekwoon proposes a marriage alliance between his brother and the princess of Magadha. But Jaehwan’s heart belongs to someone it shouldn’t belong to.

Story Masterpost

Tag List - @tomatoholmes @merlionmen @seraphistols @k-craze-97

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Part 3 - Tulsi Chandan

[Hindi, noun] basil sandalwood

“ Kai dino ke baad aaj rajkumari khush dikhi hain (The princess looks happy after so many days) ” one of the maids said to the other as they lit the candles attached to the lowered chandelier.

Monsoon had set in and the days grew darker with storm clouds becoming a permanent fixture in the sky. The staff in the palace was busy lighting the lamps but the task was time consuming and quite dull. Idle gossip was quite common and Hakyeon would often use the time to eavesdrop and learn more about the happenings in the palace. The saying “ samaaj sau baate karega (society will say hundred things) ” held very true in the halls of Kumrahar.

“ Khush kaise na hongi, Rani Megha Devi jo aa rahi hain (how can she not be happy, Queen Megha Devi is coming) ” the other maid replied. Hakyeon had heard about the princess’s maternal aunt arriving on the day of the Teej festival. He had been curious about her since she ruled their strongest neighbouring kingdom of Chitrakoot.

Her presence here had made King Taekwoon antsy since Chitrakoot had not replied to their request for peace yet. The queen’s presence could be a show of friendship or declaration of enmity and not knowing did not sit well with the king or his advisory council.

“ Maine suna hai ki Chitrakoot main abaadi hi abaadi hai. Rani ki daasiya bhi sone ke kangan pehenti hain (I’ve heard Chitrakoot is very prosperous. Even the queen’s handmaids wear golden bangles) ”

“ Teej aane hi wali hai. Dekhna mausi rani rajkumari ko zaroor resham ki saariyaan dengi (Teej is coming. You see, her royal aunt will definitely gift her silk sarees) ” the second maid said as they lifted the chandelier up to fix it onto the ceiling again. The maids flitted around the room lighting the various candles in the study but continued to talk.

“ Arre rajkumari teej shaadi se pehle kaise kar sakti hain. Agar dekhna hi hai to rajkumari ke dahej ko dekhna chahiye. Raajkumar ko rajya toh milega hi. Saath saath unke vajan ke hisaab se sona bhi milega Chitrakoot se (The princess cannot celebrate Teej before the wedding. If you have to observe then observe the dowry. The prince will get the kingdom for sure. With that he will get his weight in gold from Chitrakoot too). ”

“ Haan aakhir jab nanihaal itna dhanwaan ho toh yeh to hona hi tha. Raja rani toh janam se hi bhagyawaan hote hain (Yes when your maternal home is this rich then this is bound to happen. Kings and queens are born lucky). ”

Hakyeon tapped his chin thoughtfully once the maids left. As far as he gathered, the princess did intend on marrying Prince Jaehwan since everyone seemed to be talking about it with certainty. The king would appreciate this information.

The rumours presented an interesting aspect of the big picture to Hakyeon. Chitrakoot was rich and prosperous. If the kingdom was on their side then they could be very useful allies to get control of the region. If they became enemies, then they would be the biggest obstacles. The former outcome was always preferable but Hakyeon had to alert the advisory council in case of the latter.

He would have to talk to Jaehwan too. Jaehwan had to be extra careful to make sure Queen Megha Devi liked him and approved of the marriage.

“Your Highness, I apologise for my tardiness. I was held up in preparations for the festival tomorrow” Ananya apologised with a deep bow.

Jaehwan had asked her to meet him after lunch in his study to continue their discussion from the day earlier. But preparations for the festival had kept Ananya busy till late afternoon and she hadn’t intended on making the prince wait on her.

“Lady Ananya” Jaehwan said, breaking out of his reverie. He had been sitting on the ledge of his balcony, looking at the sky. It had begun to drizzle but that hadn’t fazed Jaehwan as he was lost in deep thought. He brushed the stray droplets out of his hair and stepped into the large hall.

“You need not apologize, my lady” he said, dismissing her apology.

“Where do you wish to begin, Your Highness?” Ananya asked Jaehwan. She moved to the large bookshelves. She quickly scanned the shelves for what titles were already here and what were missing but could be borrowed from the large library in the east wing.

“Would you mind telling me about the festival tomorrow? There seems to be quite a flurry of activity around it” Jaehwan asked. He sat down on the large couch and invited Ananya to sit next to him.

“It’s only the start of the festive season. The excitement and preparations around the bigger ones will make the current state of affairs feel like nothing” Ananya told him.

“Pardon me if I am overstepping when I ask this, but I thought the household could not partake in festivals while in mourning?” Jaehwan asked, trying to be gentle about the question.

“It’s true that the family in mourning cannot partake in any celebration. But Teej is a festival for married women only so the princess couldn’t take part in it to begin with. Moreover, the royal household has a new king and a queen. We celebrate in her absence” Ananya told him.

“We? Are you married too, my lady?” Jaehwan asked in surprise. It wasn’t uncommon. Most of the women in Janaki Mahal were married with families. Quite a few of them were married to the soldiers or guards who served in the palace.

“No, I’m not. Forgive me if my manner of speaking confused you, Your Highness. I was talking about the household. I’ve gotten quite used to speaking on their behalf. It was an error on my part” Ananya replied. Jaehwan smiled, feeling quite relieved. Ananya blushed at his tender gaze

“So.. Teej” Ananya said, tuning to the bookshelf again to see if a book could help. She bit her lip at her foolishness when she remembered that none of them would be as effective as her summarizing it for Jaehwan.

“Teej is many festivals actually. The one tomorrow is a festival married women celebrate. They pray to Goddess Parvati to bless their marriage” she started. Jaehwan leaned forward to listen with interest.

“Women celebrating Teej fast all day. They also apply mehendi (henna) on their hands and after the evening puja , they exchange sarees, sindoor (vermilion) , bangles and sweets. It’s a… token of sorts. It’s called the shrinjhara and it symbolizes blessings for a good marriage.”

“The gifts?” Jaehwan asked to which Ananya nodded in response.

“Most of the preparations for the festival are procuring the clothes, jewellery and sweets. And of course, you have to leave the henna leaves to soak in water overnight for the preparation of the mehendi tomorrow morning.”

Jaehwan nodded. It was exciting even though he was sure that his kingdom didn’t quite have a corresponding festival. Ananya was always happy to share more knowledge and her enthusiasm was infectious and endearing. Jaehwan could listen to her talk for days.

“I do not know if you have visited Jal Mandir yet, but the temple will do the teej katha and puja in the evening tomorrow. All the married women of the household will be there to celebrate and exchange the shrinjhara . We would be applying the mehendi in the morning in the palace however. So you might hear quite a lot of singing if you pass by the courtyard of Janaki Mahal” she told him.

“What is the story of Goddess Parvati? I haven’t heard much about her in the limited number of stories I’ve read” Jaehwan confessed.

“The story behind the festival is short in itself but requires me telling you many more for context. You’ll realize very quickly that most of our mythology is interconnected” she explained.

“You will find me a willing student, my lady. Perhaps I should call for some ginger tea since we might be here for a while.”

“You’ve taken quite a liking to ginger tea, Your Highness. I’m told that it’s made differently where you grew up.”

“Indeed. Ginger tea is quite invigorating. I find that it suits me well” he said. He hummed thoughtfully before speaking again. “Since you are my teacher, perhaps you can call me Jaehwan.”

“Your Majesty, I couldn’t” Ananya protested.

“I insist” Jaehwan said firmly.

“Only if you call me Ananya” she relented.

It would have been awkward if not for Jaehwan’s smile. The prince was a very charming man. Ananya wished Chitrangada was here instead so she could see how lucky she was. Even though the marriage had been forced upon her, it looked like the prince was a good man and would make a loving husband.

Ananya also felt a little envious of the princess but she pushed those feelings away instantly. To even entertain that thought was pure foolishness. For a second though, Ananya had wished that Jaehwan had been her companion instead of Chitrangada’s betrothed.

The servants brought in two cups of ginger tea and Ananya and Jaehwan settled into more comfortable positions. Ananya narrated the story of how Goddess Parvati ran away to the forest and prayed to Lord Shiva so that she would not be made to marry Lord Vishnu as her father had wished. Lord Shiva appeared in front of the goddess and agreed to marry her in place of Lord Vishnu as his boon to reward her strict penance.

They digressed into more stories about Goddess Parvati and how she was the reincarnation of Goddess Sati and Ananya ended up telling Jaehwan the story of her life and reincarnation. In turn, Jaehwan told her of their harvest festivals that would be celebrated around the same time back at home.

Ananya listened with all her attention focused on Jaehwan. Sometimes she would stop and ask him to repeat words she hadn’t heard before. Jaehwan would encourage her to repeat with him, correcting her where required and grinning whenever she managed to say phrases correctly. Ananya would blush but would try not to let it interfere with Jaehwan’s storytelling.

They were interrupted by the sound of thunder and lightning and Jaehwan realized that quite a few hours must have passed in their discussions. Thankfully they had no prior engagements. The performance by the court musicians had been postponed to after Teej and would be held in honour of Megha Devi’s arrival now.

“Would your aunt would be attending the puja at the temple too? Rani Megha Devi?” Jaehwan asked.

“So you’ve heard the rumours too then” Ananya said ruefully.

“Rumours?”

“I am the daughter of the late queen’s handmaiden but the late king was never my father, Your Highness” Ananya clarified, standing up. “People speculated but my father was my mother’s husband and it was most definitely not the late king.”

“Forgive me Lady Ananya, I had no idea” Jaehwan apologised, standing up as well.

He had forgotten to be sensitive in front of curiosity and he regretted it deeply. The warm friendship that had built up so far had been doused with icy cold water. Jaehwan apologised and blamed his foolishness but to Ananya it was a cold reminder of her own status and how inappropriate this relationship was.

“I fear that I have to return to Janaki Mahal to assist with the remaining preparations. If you will excuse me, Your Highness” Ananya said formally. She left without a response from Jaehwan who helplessly watched her go.

There was a bustle of activity as Taekwoon entered the entrance hall of Kumrahar. Everyone bowed to the king and greeted him. He was followed by Wonshik and Hakyeon with Sanghyuk as his guard.

Jaehwan perked up when the princess was announced as well. Chitrangada entered the hall. On the account of Teej, most of her entourage was dressed in vibrant colours and visibly more jewelry. However the entourage did not include the person he had been looking for.

"You seem quite restless, Your Highness" Wonshik commented. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Or were you nervous at the Princess's presence?" Wonshik teased, reducing his voice to a whisper so that no one else could hear him.

Jaehwan blushed but did not reply. He had been looking for Ananya but she wasn't here right now. On the other side, Chitrangada had been avoiding looking at him as well making the affair quite awkward. Thankfully, Taekwoon had her engaged in some small talk while they waited for the procession to enter the gates of Kumrahar.

Most chatter died down when a procession of palanquins entered the castle gates. Rani Megha Devi exited her palanquin. Attendants fussed about her but she silenced them with a raise of her hand they withdrew.

Megha Devi had an aura of authority around her. Every step she took forward commanded attention with a soft power equivalent to Taekwoon's. The rumours of Chitrakoot being a wealthy kingdom must have been true because the queen was dressed in fine silks imported from the other side of the Tsangpo and silver jewelry.

"Your Majesty" Taekwoon acknowledged. Megha Devi folded her hands and bowed slightly. Taekwoon replicated the gesture and Megha Devi smiled. Before the tension thickened, Megha Devi turned to her niece.

Chitrangada stepped forward and knelt to touch her aunt's feet. " Chirayu bhava (may you be long lived) " Megha blessed her, putting a hand on her head. " Kitni bado ho gayi ho. Humein pehchaan mein hi nahi aayi.(You've grown so much. I almost didn't recognize you) "

" Mausi, aap thak gayi hogi. Janaki Mahal mein- (Aunt, you must be tired. In Janaki Mahal-) " Chitrangada stopped only to be stopped by Megha herself.

" Mera maharaj se sabse pehle baat karna zaroori hai (It is important for me to talk to the king first) " she said, looking to Taekwoon.

" Maharani ji (Your Majesty) " Taekwoon said, gesturing to the inner corridors that led to the throne room. He had anticipated the request for an audience.

"Send for translators. Request Lady Ananya to be present as well" Taekwoon instructed Hakyeon who passed on the order. Jaehwan did not miss the way Megha Devi's lips curled in distaste at the recognition of the name mentioned.

However she schooled her features and followed Taekwoon. Save for a few attendants and an advisor, the rest of the entourage were led away.

When Jaehwan entered the room, Taekwoon was already seated on the throne and Megha Devi had taken Hakyeon's place on the chair closest to the throne. Chitrangada stood by Megha Devi's chair and Jaehwan stood on the opposite side of the throne.

A guard hurried into the room and whispered to Hakyeon before taking his place by the door.

"Lady Ananya is on her way" Hakyeon announced to the wider audience and translated it too. Ananya entered, bowing to the king and the visiting queen before standing back and awaiting whatever order Taekwoon would give. Jaehwan looked at her before turning to look at Megha Devi who was watching him intently.

"Forgive the wait, Your Majesty. I thought you would be more comfortable if you had a translator you knew" Taekwoon started. Megha waited for Hakyeon to translate and even the seasoned advisor felt restless under the scrutiny as he translated.

" Aapne hamare baare mein socha, humein achha laga (you thought of (my comfort) and I appreciate that) " Megha said. She looked to Hakyeon pointedly instead of Ananya and he translated for her too.

"You wished to speak to me."

" Haan. Main apne saath Chitrakoot ke Maharaj ka sandesh layi hoon. Humein yeh sandhi sweekar hai (Yes. I bring a message from the king of Chitrakoot. We accept your treaty) "

Megha Devi gestured to her advisor. The man presented the scroll he had been holding to Taekwoon. It was a proclamation of peace, signed with a stamp of the royal seal.

"That is indeed good news" Taekwoon said, smiling at the proclamation.

" Doosri baat. Humein shaadi ke samjhaute ki khabar bhi mili thi (Second thing. We also received news of the marriage treaty proposed) " Megha told him.

"Then you are aware that I have asked Princess Chitrangada to marry my brother Jaehwan" Taekwoon said gesturing to his brother. Jaehwan bowed and Megha Devi nodded her head.

" Yeh shaadi aapke chhote bhai se kyun aur aap see kyun nahi? (Why your younger brother and not you?) " Megha asked him.

"I am already married. My queen rules my kingdom and is raising my son and the heir to my empire" Taekwoon informed her. "My brother, on the other hand, is unmarried but every bit as royal as I am."

" Aur shaadi ke baad woh yahaan ke maharaja honge? Yah aap? (And he will be the king after marriage? Or you?) "

"Jaehwan will rule under my name" Taekwoon declared.

Jaehwan masked his surprise. He had always assumed he would remain a general and go on to fight more wars with the army. He had assumed his brother would continue ruling as he had so far. He would have to talk to him about this.

" Tab humein yeh gatbandhan bhi sweekar hai (Then we accept this offer too) " Megha Devi announced.

" Mausi !" Chitrangada exclaimed and Megha Devi glared at her.

" Yeh maamle ghar ke bade vinishchit karte hain. Mat bhoolo ki tum Pataliputra aur Chitrakoot dono ki beti ho (These matters are decided by the elders of the family. Don't forget that you are the daughter of both Pataliputra and Chitrakoot) " Megha Devi scolded her. Chitrangada held her silence out of respect.

With that, Megha Devi took Taekwoon's leave and Chitrangada followed. Jaehwan watched them leave with his gaze lingering on Ananya who had barely spoken a word throughout the meeting.

" Mausi, aapne humse hamari raay poochi hi nahi (Auntie, you never asked me for my opinion)" Chitrangada protested once they were in close quarters.

Megha Devi had summoned Bhuvan Gupta and Ananya as well to talk to the pair and get a sense of what was going on. However, Chitrangada had decided not to hold her thoughts in any longer.

"Kya aapke paas koi aur rasta tha Chitra? (Did you have any other option, Chitra?)" Megha asked her niece. So the rumours of her niece's temper tantrums had not been false. Megha had feared for her niece's life had not been baseless.

"Nahi, magar- (No, but-)" Chitrangada sputtered indignantly.

"Agar magar kuchh nahi (No buts)" Megha glared.

"Main unse shaadi nahi kar sakti! (I can't marry him!)" Chitrangada yelled.

"Bacho jaisi baatein mat karo. Agar tumne rajkumar se shaadi nahi ki toh tumhare paas yudh ke sivay aur koi chaara nahi bachega. Yudh ladne ke liye sena chahiye hoti hai, kaichi see tez bhasha nahi. (Don't talk like a child. If you don't marry the prince then your only option remaining is war. You need an army to fight a war, not a sharp tongue) " Megha chastised.

Chitrangada burst into tears and ran into her room. Megha Devi sat still, unwavering in the face of Chitrangada's tantrums.

" Aapke aane se is mahal mein anubhooti aur sayyam aaya hai (Your presence here brings experience and wisdom to the palace) " Bhuvan Gupta said, trying to lighten the mood of the room.

" Hum maante hain ki Chitra abhi bhi umar aur usse zindagi ka anubhav kam hai. Par ab paani sar se upar aa chuka hai. Woh bacchi nahi rah sakti. Usse bhi jeevan ke is pareeksha par khada utarna hoga (I understand that Chitra is young and has less life experience. But now the water is over the bridge. She cannot stay a child. She has to pass this exam life has put in front of her) "

" Woh aapko bahut maanti hai. Usse kuch wakt dijiye. Woh aapki baat zaroor sunegi. (She revers you. Give her some time. She will definitely listen to you.) "

" Aur tum? Tum mooh mein dahi jamaye kyun baithi ho? Tumne Chitra ko apni manmarzi karne kaise do itne der tak? (And you? Did you set curd in your mouth? How could you let Chitrangada act wilfully till now?) " Megha asked Ananya.

" Mujhe kshama kar de Maharani (Please forgive me, Your Highness) " Ananya apologized.

" Raghu ko humne bola tha, Rajni Didi ke maut ke baad Chitrangada ko hamare paas bhej de. Par unhe toh apni manmarzi karni thi. Ab hum sab bhugat rahe hain (I told Raghu, to send Chitrangada to me after my sister Rajni’s death. But he was stubborn. Now all of us suffer) " Megha said. " Chhod diya bina sir pair ke aur khud veergati praapt kar gaye. Mujhe issi baat ka dar tha. (He died, leaving her without anyone to guide her. I was afraid of this exact thing) ”

“ Par ab aur nahi. Chitrangada ki mausi hone ke naate uski shaadi ab main karvaungi (But no more. As Chitrangada’s aunt, I will get her married now) ” Megha Devi. “ Aur uski shaadi samapt hote hi, Ananya tum apne ghar laut jaogi (And immediately after her wedding ends, Ananya you will return home) ”

“ Par Maharani ji, Chitrangada ke saath kisi ka rehna zaroori jo paraye raja ki baaton ko samajhe aur uski sahayata kare (But Your Highness, it is necessary for Chitrangada to have someone who understands the foreign king’s language and supports her) ” Bhuvan Gupta added.

“ Usse seekhna padega. Mere behen ki mrityu ke baad jo kala saya is mahal par pada hai woh main Chitrangada pe aur nahi mandaraane doongi (She must learn. The black cloud that fell on the palace after my sister’s death cannot be allowed to hover over Chitrangada more) ”

“ Maharani aap jaanti hain ki woh baate sach nahi hai (Your Highness, you know those rumours are not true) ” Ananya spoke up. She had spent her entire life fighting these rumours but everyone had refused to believe her. The palace was her home and she had nowhere else to go.

“ Beta main itna bhi jaanti hoon ki bina agni ke dhua nahi udta hai. Tumhe bachpan mein hi is mahal se nikal dena chahiye tha. Kai galtiyaan ki hai Raja Raghu ne Rajni didi ke maut ke baad. Unhe mein badhava kadapi nahi doongi (Child, I also know that there is no smoke without fire. You should have been removed from the palace when you were a child. Raja Raghu has committed quite a few mistakes after Rajni didi’s death. I will not allow it to continue). ”

Megha Devi dismissed Ananya. This was her final word on the matter and no one could dissuade her once she made up her mind.

Bhuvan Gupta followed Ananya out. The queen had gotten busy in preparations to attend the teej katha at Jal Mandir and he took his leave of her.

“ Beta (Child) ” he said gently.

“ Guruji (Teacher) ” Ananya said respectfully. Her voice quivered, almost on the verge of tears herself.

“ Tum chinta na karo. Nalanda ke gurukul mein tumhaare liya hamesha jagah rahegi. Agar tum Pataliputra mein nahi rehna chahti to tum hamare saath wapas chal sakti ho (Don’t worry. Nalanda’s school will always have a place for you. If you do not wish to stay in Pataliputra then you can return with me) ”

“ Dhanyavaad Guruji (Thank you Teacher) ” Ananya said.

“ Tum mujhe soch kar batana (Think and let me know) ” Bhuvan said, taking his leave.

“You never told me that I was to be king of Pataliputra” Jaehwan said, frowning heavily at Taekwoon. “I assumed I was always going to be your general and you would rule over the lands we conquer here.”

“My plans have changed since this marriage and Chitrakoot came into the picture” Taekwoon admitted.

“Besides, I needed a regent I could trust. Who better than my most loyal general?”

“Being a war general and being a king are very different” Jaehwan said seriously.

“If you know this distinction then you already have the foundation to be a good one” Taekwoon smiled. “I trust you to do a good job.”

“If I am to be king, must I marry the princess? It looks like Chitrakoot was more than ready to accept our terms and conditions without a bond of marriage” Jaehwan said. It was a matter of concern. Chitrangada clearly did not intend on marrying him and Jaehwan was no longer inclined to the same, even if it was the most peaceful option.

“The marriage has been proposed and accepted. There can be no turning back now. But you have pointed out something that seemed weird to me. Don’t you think our treaty was accepted too quickly?’ Taekwoon asked.

“What do you mean?” Jaehwan asked.

“Of all our neighbours, Chitrakoot and Kalinga are the wealthiest and could afford war. Given our foreign nature and weakened condition of the army, they could easily defeat us and annex our kingdoms. Yet, Chitrakoot strives for peace” Taekwoon said.

“You don’t trust their motives.”

“It cannot simply be a matter of familial relations. We need to find out more about their motives” Taekwoon said. “All Hakyeon has are rumours. I trust him but even he doubts the validity of the information we have. We need someone we can trust on our side.”

“That’s why I have a task for you” Taekwoon said.

“What do you need me to do?” Jaehwan asked.

“You have good relations with Bhuvan Gupta. Find out more about our neighbouring kingdom and the visiting queen. It might even be better if you could talk to Lady Ananya. A scholar might only know facts but someone who grew up in the palace would know the people behind the stories” Taekwoon planned.

“Ananya would naturally be close enough to Rani Megha Devi but not in favour. You saw how she treated her in court today. If the rumours about her parentage are true, we can use this to our advantage. You can talk to her once the queen returns from Jal Mandir. I am assuming the entourage must have already left.”

“Ananya’s father -”

Jaehwan stopped when he sensed something. The two brothers were supposed to be alone in the king’s private study. Normally there would be servants moving about silently, trying not to disturb the king but this was different. There was someone here, in the room and had tried to be very sneaky about it.

Jaehwan shared a look with Taekwoon who frowned. He hadn’t sensed what Jaehwan had but he walked silently over to his sword and picked it up. Jaehwan drew a dagger that he kept on person and asked Taekwoon to stay behind him. He moved towards the long tapestries that hung, dividing the study from the hall used to receive guests.

He pushed the curtains aside with force and a person jumped out, intending to dash for the door and escape. Taekwoon yelled for the guards and Jaehwan ran after the intruder. How had he slipped in? Given the lack of staff at the palace and the arrival of many new people, this intruder must have taken the chance to slip in.

The guards arrived at the other end of the corridor and the intruder was forced to take a detour. He jumped out of the balcony and onto the courtyard, making a dash for Janaki Bhawan.

“Cut him off at the palace” Jaehwan instructed. He jumped out after the intruder. He spotted Wonshik and Sanghyuk on the other side and sped up. Between the three of them they could subdue this intruder easily. He reached out and caught the intruder by his left arm, forcing the man to fall.

The intruder kicked him and Jaehwan’s dagger fell out of his hand. Jaehwan got up quickly, holding the intruder down with his body weight while he tried to keep his hands from moving. Jaehwan had his left arm pinned to his chest but his right arm was free and the intruder used it to pick up Jaehwan’s fallen dagger. Jaehwan tried to hold the intruder down but the intruder was almost as strong as Sanghyuk and easily overpowered him, slashing at his chest.

Jaehwan felt a sharp sting as the blade cut through his chest and neatly through the old wounds that hadn’t healed quiet yet. He felt his tunic hang looser and tore away at it completely. He used the torn fabric to capture the intruder’s hands in a twist of fabric and turned it, causing their hand to be twisted. Wonshik arrived with Sanghyuk in tow and the three of them managed to incapacitate the intruder by knocking him out.

“Get help for the prince!” Wonshik yelled as Jaehwan clutched his chest. The cut had drawn blood but was thankfully superficial and had not harmed any important organs. The pain Jaehwan felt was mostly from the old arrow wound that was no open and in danger of an infection if left unattended.

“Take the intruder to the dungeons. When he comes to, the king will want to question him” Jaehwan told Sanghyuk as Wonshik helped him up.

Jaehwan struggled as he tried to lie down comfortably. The royal physician had tended to his wounds and bandaged them but his mind was not at ease. His wounds still stung slightly and Jaehwan sighed, knowing he had no other option but to bear it.

A distraction came in the form of a knock at the door. “Come in” Jaehwan called. His voice wavered due to the pain.

“Your Highness?”

Jaehwan was surprised to find Ananya standing at his door with a tray of pots . He tried to sit up but the wound burned harshly and he sighed, forced to lie down again.

Ananya came up to him hurriedly, worried at the amount of pain he was in. She placed the tray she was holding on the stool placed next to his bed and sat down by his side to inspect his injuries.

“Does your cut burn? Did you open any of your old wounds by accident?” she asked, unable to see much beyond the bandages.

“I did. The cut goes through the old wounds” he told her.

“I bought you some medicine. It has basil and sandalwood in it. That should cool down the burn and help heal faster” she told him. She hesitated but Jaehwan gave her the permission to undo his bandages and check the injury.

Ananya worked methodically. She opened the bandages and cleaned the old medicine out, giving Jaehwan some relief. The cut had begun to scab and the bleeding had stopped. This was good news. Jaehwan’s forehead was warm and a fever from infection was a possibility and that worried her.

Ananya picked up a small earthen pot that was covered with cloth from the tray she had brought in. The medicine was a paste of various herbs and felt cool against his skin. The basil sucked out the heat from the cut and the sandalwood added extra cooling, reducing the irritation on his skin. Jaehwan sighed, relaxing onto his bed.

“You’ll need to leave the wound open. The medicine will have to be cleaned once it dries and you need to reapply until only the scars remain” she told him. “You will have to drink this tonic too. It’s bitter but useful to fight any fevers that you might get while healing.”

She helped Jaehwan sit upright, leaning against the headboard for support. Movement was much easier now that the burning had reduced and Jaehwan felt grateful. Ananya handed him a glass of what looked like green tea and tasted equally bitter. He could detect a faint taste of honey but that did not help the bitterness from the peppercorns and what he suspected was some derivative of ginseng.

“I’m glad you’re here. Thank you Ananya” Jaehwan said, putting the glass away and looking at her.

“The princess was concerned about you when she got word of the attack” Ananya told him.

“So she sent you here?” Jaehwan asked. He tried not to let his disappointment show. Some part of him had hoped that Ananya had come to check on him because she was worried about him.

Ananya bit her lip and didn’t reply, busying herself with tying the fabric cover around the pot of medicine.

“Or did you come here to see me of your own accord?” Jaehwan asked hopefully.

“I remembered Guruji had talked about your old wounds and that the ashwagandha lep (ginseng paste) had been effective. I knew the royal physician doesn’t use it very much but if it is helping you then I will instruct him to use it” she replied, not looking at him.

“Ananya” Jaehwan called to her. He took her hand and she looked at him before trying to withdraw. He held onto her hand firmly, not letting her go till she listened to him.

“Ananya, please stay. I need to apologize to you about whatever I said” he insisted.

“It was never your fault. There is nothing to forgive. Jaehwan, please let me go” she begged, looking around in case anyone had walked in or had seen them.

Jaehwan cupped her cheek and Ananya’s eyes widened. “Please be honest with me Ananya. You came here because you were worried about me, didn’t you?”

Ananya sighed and closed her eyes. “Yes. I was worried. I know I shouldn’t be but I wanted to make sure you were alright. General Wonshik was so worried and I had overheard him talking to Sanghyuk” she confessed.

“I’m glad you came. I was so happy to see you. I was worried you wouldn’t forgive me” he admitted. Ananya shook her head and pulled away.

“I wasn’t angry at you. I couldn’t stay angry at you for very long. I was angry at my circumstances” she told him.

“I understand.”

“I should go. I shouldn’t have come here to begin with” Ananya said, growing worried again.

“Stay with me. Please don’t leave me” Jaehwan urged. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Contrary to her words, Ananya didn’t resist, allowing herself the guilty indulgence for a few moments more.

“I can’t go missing for too long. People will notice. People will talk” she whispered. Jaehwan hummed and she realized that they were too close to be appropriate anymore. Jaehwan’s eyes were darker and she found herself unwilling to move even though her brain kept screaming at her about how foolish this was.

Jaehwan leaned in to kiss Ananya and she kissed him back.

#story: samrajya #vixx fanfiction #vixx ken #vixx leo #indian royalty au #historical romance drama

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fallen-gravity · 7 years

Text

Thanks For the Memories

Fandom: Moana

Category: Gen

Relationships: Moana & Maui, Moana & Her family

Word Count: 3,839

Summary: Sharing memories is said to be something only the most closely bonded and the most legendary of duos are able to accomplish. When Moana discovers that she and Maui are compatible, what’s one of the first things she does with her ability?

Use it to help him experience the one thing he’s spent his entire life deprived of.

Notes: “Angst first, fluff later”- that seems to have become a bit of a motto seren and I have whenever we discuss concepts. After I recieved an ask regarding drift compatibility between Moana and Maui, the two of us clung to that idea and we talked about it for days.

At first, we only talked about the horrible downsides that come with these abilities, and we even each wrote different pieces on the conept of a shared nightmare.

But then we started talking about fluffier concepts, about these two dorks using their ability to show the other something they’ve always wanted to see, to do something they’ve never been able to experience.

One word stood out to me more than anything else. Family.

As Moana exits from her fale, she yawns, stretching her arms up towards the sky. When she opens her eyes, she looks up at the sky, and notices that the sun is setting. It’s been a long day. She’s been up since early this morning fulfilling her duties alongside her father, and now that the sun is going down Tui had told her he thought she’d done enough for today. It took a lot out of her, but it didn’t bother her. Not really. She loves her people, and she loves serving them as Chief, so working consistently throughout the day is nothing more than a fair price to pay for her.

Moana reaches up to run her hands through her hair, and hisses in irritation when her fingers curl around a stubborn knot. Rolling her eyes at herself, she turns back into her fale to grab her hairbrush before coming back out with it in her hand. As she brushes out that stubborn knot, she begins to wander around her village for a little bit of sightseeing. Now that the sun is setting, everyone is slowly setting down, ceasing in their work to put it off until tomorrow. Even if Moana’s lived on this island her entire life, and no matter how many times she’s counted the steps from one end to the other, there’s always something really pleasing about Motunui when the sun goes down. Maybe it’s the way the sunset always reflects off the water, surrounding the entire island in beautiful shades of oranges and pinks.

Or maybe it’s the mountain peak and the way it casts shadows over the village, where people hide to cool from the heat the sun provides even as it sets. Whatever the reason, Moana’s not sure, but when she thinks of Motunui, she thinks home. And when she thinks of the people, she thinks family.

As Moana finishes off brushing the knot out of her hair, she finds herself circling back around to her fale. Shrugging to herself, Moana heads back inside, places her brush down beside her sleeping mat, and heads back outside. She spares another glance up at the sky, and even though the sun is still casting the last of its rays over the island, Moana can see the stars beginning to peek their way out into the night sky.

At the sight, Moana smiles to herself as she begins to head down to the beach. Instead of heading straight, however, she takes a sharp turn and cuts through the trees, down a little hidden path only she seems to know the location of.

Okay, so not just her. When Moana arrives at her favorite stargazing spot at the end of the trail, there’s already somebody else here. A large figure resting back on his hands comfortably as he looks out at the water.

Moana snorts. “You didn’t need to wait here for me, you know” she says, and Maui laughs as he turns to face her.

“You know me” he says, and moves over to make room for her. “I’d hate to keep my number one fan waiting” He says, and Moana laughs.

“Really?” She asks, smirking. “You expecting someone new? I thought this was our spot. How could you let someone else in on it?” Moana exaggerates, and laughs some more when Maui turns a glare on her.

“Ha ha, very funny” Maui deadpans, and crosses his arms at her. “I know you look up to me” He says, smirking, and Moana rolls her eyes as she settles herself more comfortably against the shore.

“Mmhm” Moana hums, and returns his smirk with one of her own. “Whatever you say, Sharkhead” she replies, and almost can’t help but giggle when he splutters at the nickname.

“Whatever” he grumbles, and in a pattern mirroring her own, he begins to settle himself more comfortably against the sand. “You’ll slip up one of these days, princess”, He stresses. “I know you admire me in one way or another” He says, and Moana only rolls her eyes, smiling in amusement as she slowly begins to slide backwards until her back is lying flat against the shore.

Apparently taking her smile as an answer he’s satisfied with, Maui lies down to copy her position, arm pressed against hers as they watch the stars come out.

Recently, stargazing with Maui after a long day of work has become somewhat of a tradition between the two of them. At first, it had only started out on rare occasions, maybe on the first and last nights when Maui would come to visit. But now that he stays more often than leaves, and he’s got his own fale close by hers, it’s become something they do much more often. Even when they first started stargazing more often than they used to, Moana quickly found that neither really wanted to stop once they’re already started. The two of them would lie side by side on the sand for hours, talking and joking. Sometimes, they wouldn’t talk much at all, and just use the time to enjoy each other’s company. It was these times, Moana found, that they were more likely to both fall asleep lying in the sand than times they would spend the night talking and laughing.

To avoid this, and to try to save both of them the trouble of spending hours trying to pick the sand out of their hair the next morning, they decided to stargaze more often, thinking it would help rid of that problem. That maybe by spending more time together they’d be okay with spending more time apart.

Only to find that it didn’t help.

At all.

“So,” Maui says, and when Moana turns her head to look at him his expression looks as if it’s softened significantly from that mischievous, joking expression he had on earlier. “How are your ‘Chief-ly’ duties coming along?” He asks, and Moana can’t help but snort as he bounces his head against the sand in a mocking pattern at chiefly. He does really want to know, though. Moana can tell.

“Exhausting” she admits, scooting slightly away from him to allow herself to place her hands behind her head without jabbing him in the shoulder. Because it is. She doesn’t mind though.

“Huh. Are you doing okay?” he asks, and it takes Moana a few moments to realize what he must mean by that.

“Yeah, I don’t mind” She says, craning her neck slightly to send a glance back at her village. “Sure, it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it, you know?” She says, and readjusts her position to allow herself to look at the stars again.

“How so?” Maui asks, pushing himself up into a sitting position, and Moana follows suit so she can look at him better.

“Well, for them” She says, gesturing back towards her village. “Sure, it’s a lot of work, and it’s exhausting, but the thing that makes it worth it is that they’re really loving and supportive. They’re kind of like a family, you know?” She asks, but Maui doesn’t respond. He looks back toward her village, like he is deep in thought, profile turned to her, and the smile he had worn so easily only seconds before is completely faded away, and he almost looks like he’s...confused, by her words.

“Maui?” Moana asks, jolting him from his thoughts, and as he turns to look at her the confusion remains plastered to his face. “Maui, do you...do you not know what that’s like?”

Maui only stares at her for a few long seconds after that, like he’s rummaging through himself for some sort of answer, but then he shrugs, turns his gaze out towards the sea.

“I can’t say that I do” Maui says, too casual for Moana’s comfort.

That’s...awful. Moana’s always had people to go to, people to support her when she’s down. Even when she’s not able to turn to her family directly, she has a whole island full of people who love her enough that she could go to them for anything. They’ve seen her at her worst, and they’ve never judged her once for it.

But Maui, her dear best friend- He doesn’t have someone like that. He’s never had someone he was able to trust with his dark secrets that ate away at him if he went too long without speaking about them. He’s never had someone to support him when he’s down, when the weight on his shoulders becomes too heavy to carry on his own. He’s never had somebody to catch him when he falls. For thousands of years he’s been forced to keep to himself because he never had someone who was willing to just sit down beside him to listen.

Except, Moana realizes, for herself. Maui trusts her. He turns to her when he needs advice, or comforting, or just because he wants someone to talk to. He turns to her for support because he needs her. Not only is she his best friend, she’s also his support system. The first he’s had in his entire life.

“Well,” Moana says, and she moves herself away from his side to plant herself in front of him. “Do you want to know what a family’s like?” She beams. “Because I’d be more than happy to show you”

A while back, she and Maui discovered that they’re able to share their memories with each other while they’re pulled into a hongi, foreheads pressed against each other. If they focus hard enough on each other, match their breathing patterns perfectly, they’re able to reach this sort of headspace that belongs to not one or the other, but to both of them collectively.

That’s not the part that shocked Moana at first. She’d definitely heard of people having the ability in legends she grew up with, of inseparable dynamic duos who were so closely bonded that they were able to share life experiences just by touching their foreheads together. The process didn’t faze her at all.

No, the part that shocked Moana is that she and Maui had discovered their ability entirely by mistake. They were saying goodbye after one of his earlier visits to Motunui. He had leaned his head down just as she rose hers up to meet his, and when her eyes closed she abruptly found herself back out on the water with Maui. When she realized what was happening she pulled away, stumbled backwards a little bit, and the first thing she was met with when she forced her eyes back open was Maui, staring at her with just as much shock as she’s sure she felt.

That’s what they got for restoring the heart together, she supposes. A special connection that could bond them even closer.

Maui laughs, then, like he knows exactly where she’s going with this. “You’re something else, Moana, you know that?” He says, and gestures towards himself like an invitation. Grinning, Moana crawls towards him, and Maui adjusts his position slightly to allow Moana to come closer and so she doesn’t have to lean up so much to reach him. In perfect unison, they touch their foreheads together and close their eyes, and in one coordinated move, they breathe in and then out.

Moana loves her family. She doesn’t know where she would be without their constant love and support helping her on her way. She can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be deprived of this, to be forced to go without having a family to fall back on when you need it.

So she can’t help herself, not really, when she finds herself sharing only the fondest of her memories of her family with Maui.

She’s a toddler. Not even four years old. She’s crying, the result of a bad nightmare. Her mother is at her side instantly, softly singing her back to sleep.

Her father is teaching her the beginnings of what it will be like to be Chief. She’s just a kid, so she can’t do any of the hard work yet. He’s letting her follow him around and watch him as he goes.

She’s with her father again. She’s older, and this time he’s letting her help. She watches him carefully and follows his every move. After a long day of work, he offers her a coconut to drink from.

She is dancing with Tala on the shore. Moving as one, she, her grandmother, and the ocean all move as once in a three-part dance.

It’s downpouring on Motunui. Moana is shivering, tucked away in her fale, pressed closely together on both of her sides by her parents, keeping her warm.

Her grandmother is braiding her hair, whispering stories of her ancestors to her in a quiet voice so only she will be able to hear.

She is stargazing on the beach. Beside her, Tala lays, pointing up at the constellations, telling her that each of them represent-

“Wait” Maui’s voice suddenly cuts into her memory. “This actually feels...familiar” He says, and it takes Moana a few solid seconds to realize he probably didn’t say that out loud at all. She realizes abruptly that because they’re inside their shared headspace that not only are they capable of sharing memories, but they’re probably also capable of hearing each other’s thoughts.

This catches Moana so off guard so suddenly that her wrists slip forward in the sand, accidentally breaking away from the hongi and pulling both Maui and herself away from the memory.

She scoots backwards so she can look at him. “What was that?” Moana asks, and Maui blinks a few times to readjust himself to his surroundings before he meets her gaze.

“Your family” He says. “I said it felt familiar”

“Yeah? Did it?” Moana asks, smiling. “How so?” She asks, and Maui laughs quietly, more to himself than at her question, and shakes his head.

He smiles fondly at her then. “Well,” he says, and flicks his head toward himself. “C’mere. Let me show you” he says, and Moana can’t help but grin as she sort of scrambles back over to him. Maui’s never talked about having a family, not really, and especially not one apparently filled with just as much love and just as much support as Moana’s own.

But Moana knows both from legend and from the snippets of stories he’s told her from his childhood that he was raised by the gods.

The gods. He could be showing her what it was like to grow up with the gods.

Sensing her enthusiasm, Maui chuckles at her as she makes her way back towards him. Still smiling fondly, he bows his head down to her, and Moana grins as she leans up to meet him halfway. When their foreheads touch, they close their eyes, and both take a deep breath, in and out.

Moana barely registers the feeling of Maui placing a hand on her shoulder. One moment, there is nothing, and the next, everything shifts. They’re deep into his memories, Moana can tell, when she finds that she’s looking at…

...herself.

They’re in Lalotai, Tamatoa’s cave. Maui is lying on the floor, defeated. He tries to push himself to his feet, but he fails. He drops back down into the sand, too weak to stand on his own. Seconds later, Moana comes rushing to his side, dragging his hook with her. She tosses it to him, more than anything, before she plants herself under his arm. Carefully, making sure not to hurt him, she slings one arm around his back and curls the other around the arm he flung over her shoulder. Together, though slowly, they stand up to their feet. She supports him as they make their way out of Tamatoa’s cave, watching his movements carefully.

It’s the middle of the night. They’re back on their canoe. There are stars all around them and the ocean lay still as she and Maui sit side by side at the edge of the canoe. She’s speaking to him softly, encouragingly. Telling him things he hasn’t heard in thousands of years. Stuff he should already know. A single sentence of hers rings louder than all the rest, like Maui remembers it the most clearly. As if it’s what he considers the most important.

“It is not the gods who make you Maui”.

The sun is starting to peak over the horizon. He raises his hook to her, and she blocks his blow with her oar. They’re both smiling. Moana returns his blow with one of her own, and this time he raises his hook back up to block it. He jumps to his feet, and back and forth across the deck the two of them spar. They’re both laughing.

It’s morning. Moana says something to Mini Maui, who somehow communicates what she wants to Maui. With a nervous glance towards her he flashes his hook and pops into a beetle onto the deck of her canoe. Then he changes again and he’s a lizard, a shark, a hawk, and finally, a whale.

He jumps back onto the deck of the canoe, returns her high five just as enthusiastically as she gives it. He doesn’t seem to realize that he’s dropped his hook, or maybe, he has, but doesn’t care to pick it back up.

She hands him the oar. He pays careful attention, Moana realizes for the first time, to the heart he carved into the wood before he flips the oar around and hands it back to her.

In perfect unison, they dip their hands in the water to check the currents. Maui sits beside her as she adjusts the sail, helps her when she can’t figure out how to get it to catch in the wind. Their arms raise side by side as they measure the stars.

They reach Te Fiti. Maui is too nervous to admit that he’s nervous. They make their warrior faces at each other briefly to pump each other up before she reaches into her locket and pulls out the heart to hand it to him.

Te Kā knocks him from the sky. Immediately Moana is racing towards him. He flops back onto the deck of the canoe, pained, and Moana places a comforting hand on his shoulder as she runs the other along his back to check for any severe burns.

He is flying, frantic and panicked, back towards Te Fiti from a location unknown to her. He is praying to the gods to let her be alive. He makes a promise to the wind and sea, to the gods themselves, to himself. A promise to never leave her again.

She is climbing up the shore to look for the spiral. Te Kā conjures a fireball to shoot at her. Maui stares Te Kā down in boiling hatred, and if Moana looks hard enough she thinks she can see something protective in his expression. He leaps into the air, and his fish hook shatters to pieces.

Moana shows her face again, after her inability to find the spiral. Maui does not give up. He calls for Te Kā again, and begins to perform a haka for her with one thought and one thought only, repeating over and over in his mind.

Keep Moana safe. Keep Moana safe. Keep Moana safe.

They’re on Te Fiti, the heart restored. The two of them are talking. She’s offering him to come back to Motunui with her. He declines, and pulls his necklace aside. Mini Moana appears over his chest, right beside Mini Maui holding up the sky. Right over his heart. Keeping it safe.

She leaps into his arms. They both grab for the other to pull them closer at the same time-

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

Maui can hear this, hear her protesting, coming to realization. She knows he can, but he’s not letting up. Moana can almost swear she can hear him laughing.

A hawk soars over the shores of Motunui. On the sand below, she chases after it, yelling after it to land. There are tears in her eyes. He touches down, and she barely slows as she barrels herself into him.

They’re back out on the water. They’re both sitting on the deck of their canoe, side by side. Talking. Laughing. Neither of them are caring for the controls, or where their canoe is going. For some reason that’s not a concern for either of them.

She’s coming into his fale in the middle of the night. She can’t sleep. She had a nightmare. For some reason she wants to talk to him specifically. Unfortunately, words fail him, so when she goes to hug him he begins to pet at her hair. In his arms, Moana laughs at the sudden gesture, at the clear awkwardness spreading to both of them. She shoves herself away from him, laughing still, and somehow she already feels much better than she would’ve with some sort of cheesy motivational speech.

They’re walking through the forest. They discover a hidden path, one not even Moana recognizes. They follow it, and discover a small cove closed off from the rest of the beach. Above it, the stars seem to shine brighter than they do anywhere else on the island. She’s the first to move to sit down, and she pats at the ground next to her, smiling.

This is their spot now, they claim. Their spot and their spot only.

They’re lying against the sand of their cove after a long day. Neither are talking. At a closer look Moana sees that her eyes are closed, fast asleep on the shore beside Maui. He’s not asleep, not yet, but it’s clear that he’s about to lose the little war he seems to be having with his eyelids about keeping them open-

When Moana pulls away from the hongi, there are tears in her eyes.

Maui considers her family. Her. For years he’s been viewing her the same way she’s been viewing her own her entire life, and-

She-

She loves her family more than anything. For Maui to hold her that closely, to love her just as much as she does her own- For Maui to consider her family- The family he never had- That thought alone is enough to bring even more tears to her eyes. She reaches to scrub them away before she returns her attention to Maui. He’s watching her carefully. Cautiously. Like he’s waiting for her reaction.

“Y’know” he shrugs, trying for casual. “Kind of like that, I guess” he says, and smiles affectionately at her again. Moana wipes at her eyes before rushing towards him again, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

“You too” Moana replies instantly, before Maui can do or say anything else. “You’re my family too” She says.

Because it’s true. When he was sharing his memories with her- their memories, their precious memories, Moana looked at Maui. Really looked.

And when she looked, she found family.

She found home.

#moana #paper scraps #team bun buddies #do you ever write fluff just to write fluff #that's essentially what this piece is #I had actually started writing this while I was in the process of writing always I think #because I for one feel BAD when I hurt my children #side eyes seren loudly #this was really fun to write though #I loved coming up with post-movie memories of these two #just try and tell me they wouldn't claim an entire COVE to themselves and not let anyone else near it #or that moana wouldn't scream at a literal BIRD for not landing when she wants it to #these two massive dorks are my sweet precious children and I love them more than life itself #this is completely and thoroughly platonic #of course they love each other to bits #but you know. that's platonic love #that's familial love

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