#Sun is a nervous wreak
Text
Heyyyyy, so I got into writing since work hasn't given me time to actually work on my art. It will soon be resolved in a few weeks, then back to posting more often. I am making a comic again and almost done with it so I don't promise projects that won't come.
Enough about me, and let's get to you! This is a thunderstorm comfort I wrote a while back on AO3 and forgot to post it here. My collection is called Nebula Kisses. This one-shot can be seen as platonic or romantic, next one is more on the romance side but still can be platonic if you wish. But so I don't clog your feed, I'll post the next chapter tomorrow or later but within the week!
I also apologize for the weird formatting, this was written on my phone during the time so I don't have the fancy indents or proper grammar check.
Thank you for sticking around with my inconsistencies, I wish I had more time.
So much love,
Nexi
Breath |Sun/Moon x Scared!Reader|
[Power had gone out, leaving Sun and Moon to look for you in the dark. However, you are absolutely horrified of thunderstorms.]
The daycare was lit up during the town wide blackout. The rumbling generators along with the constant loop of the daycare music, Sunnydrop was busy awaiting got his favorite visitor. Who might that be, well none other than the security guard who is ordered to look out for the lobby, green rooms, and of course, the daycare. Y/N is what they call themselves, which Sunny really liked that when they mentioned it to him, he walked around repeating it like a song.
But they were late, a half hour late. He taps his foot impatiently, he checks the attendance and sees that they did clock in. What were they doing? Did they get lost? It's impossible to miss his big daycare! Surely you didn't forget either, his lovely face was everywhere, that had to remind you to check on him.
A quiet rumble of the storm outside rang through the building. According to the weather, it was going to be a rough and long storm ahead. Heard it was going to last until morning.
Sun, getting impatient, decided to look for them himself. Feeling confident, he takes his long strides to the daycare door, his hand reaching for the door knob. He felt himself pause for just a moment. He hasn't really left daycare, not that he can't leave, but it was risky. Last time he left was to take care of that rulebreaker and set up some banned signs around Kids Cove, but that was the furthest he went in a very long time. Sun was still very angry about it, but it did reopen the daycare after Freddy left. So maybe he should forgive him? Nah, he needs to apologize first.
Sun shakes his head, he was getting off track. He opens the daycare door, mind back on his mission. To find his Starshine. He takes his long strides, making sure to stay near the light and flashing signs. The easy part was now over as he got to the entrance door that faced the slide back into his daycare.
As soon as he opened the door with great confidence, he saw that is was pitch black. Maybe his friend did get lost, with this darkness and no flashlight, it would be nearly impossible to find him! Not taking into consideration of muscle and location memory. He felt Moon stirring from inside.
“Moon, sorry to wake you up from your nap. Our dear friend is missing and I had hope to do it myself! But uh... Looks like I can't do much.” He spoke aloud. Silence rang through his head, awaiting for his alter ego to speak.
Moon was recently having a fit, and not talking. This happened since Eclipse disappeared into the arcade cabinet when he was playing that discount floppy bird game. Moon had tried to get him out by playing the game, but something happened to him too. He became mostly unresponsive, giving out short phrases or sentences.
Sun would hear his alter giggle, which relieved Sun that Moon was at least in a good mood. Sun takes in a false breath of courage and walked into the dark. If he could close his eyes, he would've. The familiar pain in his face shocked through him, making him grab at it. He feels his rays click into his head on at a time, unlocking his chest compartment which his infamous hat was held in. It started from his fingers, the oranges and silver turned to white and blue.
Sun felt himself pull back and release control. He now stood outside and watched Moon take his hat and place it up on his head. Moon crouched down and stretches his legs, then start crawling on the floor towards the wall. Sun, not wanting to be alone, would do his best to follow.
“Little Star has gone missing.” Is what Moon would say before climbing up the wall and opening a vent to crawl through. He started to giggle and cackle, it echoing through the building and alerting that Moon was out early. The glamrocks retreating to their green rooms as to not go to parts and services.
*×*×*×*×*×*
You had entered the building on time, rarely ever late. Today has been storming hard, the rain pattering hard on the glass of the lobby entrance. Things were up and normal, doing your normal tasks. Checked stock, picked up any lost and found items to either throw away or await for the owner to come in the next day to pick it up. As you head into lost and found, that was when you heard it. It started as a small rumble before the sky roared a building shaking thunder, knocking the power out.
You have always been afraid of thunder since you were young. Not that you could explain it to anyone without the fear of being made fun of for a childish fear. It wasn't childish to you, it was real, the sense of dread and fear that paralyzed you proved it. You drop to the floor, staying as close to the ground as you could. If you could just find your flashlight, you had to crawl around a bit to then heard another rumble.
It took your breath away, your hands shaking as you retrieve the flashlight. Trying to find some solace in the light, you put your thumb on the switch and pushed up. Click. Click-click. Nothing. The flashlight, so cheap that it doesn't even last a hour with full charge, was dead and the charging stations were down. You were in the dark, the loud storm rattling the outside shutter doors, making it very loud and overwhelming.
You grab a blanket from the shelf and put it over you and your head. It just felt safer when surrounded by the soft fabric. Peaking through the opening, you hesitantly get on your feet again. You still had a job to do, but it was going to be slower. You would like your paycheck still and you knew how stingy the company was, taking your panic and finding a way to no pay you.
You would manage to get out of lost and found in the dark. On your way out, a little glow in the dark Monty was resting in a stroller. It must've been left behind but picking it up, it still had its tag and security pin. Rather, someone tried to steal it. It did produce light, enough to get around at least. However, these toys don't glow in the dark for too long. Got maybe, a solid twenty minutes? It's been dark for five, so fifteen. You did your best to scamper to the green rooms and peak around.
You arrive and you see the famous glamrocks interacting with each other. Monty with Roxy and Chica, heading back towards their respective rooms. Monty had taken over as temporary lead as they remade a new Freddy. They did have to use the scraped Mr. Hippo glamrock to fill the fourth spot. Your train of thought was cut off as another loud crash of thunder rang through the building. You huddle against a corner and put the blanket over your head again.
“Why... Why now... Why can't you come when it was after work...” You mutter as you croutch down and felt tears prick your eyes. Another crash finally made you crack, you try to hold back your tears but they started to stream down your face. All you felt was dread, paralyzing fear that. You wanted to scream in fear but that would reveal your fear. You try to be fearless, not let anything bother you. When you first met Sun and Moon, they were rather surprised that you approached them. You had a fascination with how they acted and looked. It was endearing, when you took the time to watch them and interact that even under their rough attitude and words, they were lonely.
Lonely.
Another crash, you were shaking and on the ground. Hands over your ears and a quiet sobbing from your blanket shell. You were too scared to notice the vent opening and the giggling of a certain jester. One with the Moon rather than the sun. The jester made his round, single red eye darting around to find something. Then he hears the sobbing, unfamiliar to his sensors. Crawling over, he finds the shaking blanket of which the sobbing came from. When he lifted the blanket that was when he saw you. Your glow in the dark Monty plush was almost out of glow, leaving you in almost pure darkness.
Moon was all you saw now, his eye lit up the small space. He tilts his head in confusion.
“Why is Little Star hiding? No monsters are here, just Moon” He spoke, unsure to react to the crying. You quickly wipe your face and sniffle, putting up your strong front.
“Cause uhh, I was playing a game..?” You made it sound more like a question than an answer. Of course, it was a lie, so Moon leaned closer.
“Then why cry? Liar, liar I hate liars. Speak truth.” Moon wipes a tear from your cheek. But as you go to answer, the loudest crash of thunder lands. It shook the building again, making the lights flicker and power back off. You yelp and cling onto Moon. You try to get as close as you could, fingers slipping a tad just for you to scramble to get your grip. You breathing escalated and felt the verge of hyperventilation. You weren't expecting anything from Moon, never was the touchy one unlike Sun who couldn't stop having tiny touches and bumps.
But you then felt mechanical arms wrap around you. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap, cradling you close to him. He gently rocks back and fourth, winding his broken chest music box. He was taking nap time protocol with some modifications. His broken music box plays a soft tune, though in some places it wobbled.
“Breathe. Deep breaths. It will be okay..” Moon whispers. You try to follow his instructions, still freaking out. Your shaking breath and hiccups try to find a rhythm. Moon rests his blue hand and rubs gently up and down your back. It was slow. “Breathe in..” He whispers, his hand gliding up slowly, helping you follow. You take a shuttering breath in, slow like his hand. It stops, in which you held your breath. “Breathe out...” His hand runs back down and you sigh out. It was then looped
Moon would then carry you, you holding onto him with your legs around his thin waist, him with a arm under you and one on your back to keep the rhythm going. He adjusted the blanket to keep it over your head.
He arrives back to the door of the daycare, avoiding the light, he hooked his arm around the wall to find the light switch to turn off the lights. He finds it and flicks it off, hearing the buzzing electricity stop. He peeks in to make sure and then walks in. He takes the long way around and gets inside the daycare. He would have the fly hook attach to his back and he glides over to his and Sun's tower.
“... Moon..? Why are we here..?” You asked, hearing the rumble again and wincing at the noise. Moon would hold you close as he goes back to crawling. He crawls through a small hole off to the side and see that it was a small hiding place. There was boxes, drawings, a mattress with a few pillows. There was also an arcade cabinet in the corner with the screen busted.
“Hide away, storm won't follow here.. Safe here..” He crawls onto the mattress and lays you next to him. The rumbles of the storms were dampened, making it barely audible. With the help of Moon's music box as well, he pets your head.
“... Thank you.” You mumble out, only for Moon respond with a fake click of his tongue. He giggled a bit and curled up around you, his legs are under yours, making you rest yours on top of his. You both cuddle up under the blanket, Moon rubbing your back to keep the deep breath rhythm.
A very loud roar of the sky fills the room, and you both tense up and huddle. A few more tears fall and Moon quickly wipes them away. It was the first time you would ever see Moon have a slight shake in his hand. He was afraid too, of thunder and storms. He was able to repress his fear as his tip top priority was to make sure you were okay first. But he felt as if he needed to keep up this false confidence that you could remain calm.
You mimic his movements, running your hand on his back in a soothing motion.
“Breathe...” You both say at the same time. You get as close as you two could and comforted each other. Moon pecks the top of your head. He felt safe with you, and you felt safe with him. For someone as reclusive as Moon, this was a good bonding experience that neither of you would forget.
#fnaf#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sundrop#moondrop#fnaf moondrop#fnaf moon#dca sun#fnaf dca#dca fandom#dca fnaf#dca moon#dca#sun x reader#sundrop#sundrop x reader#moon x reader#moondrop x reader#fluff#angst with a happy ending#moon is a softie#Sun is a nervous wreak#first fanfic in 4 years#please be gentle
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Web of Hearts
Spider!Jimin being as subtle as a neon sign.
Fluff
Yu Jimin (Karina x fem!reader)
Word count: 5.6k
____________________
In the bustling city of Seoul, where towering skyscrapers touched the sky and the pulse of urban life echoed through every street, a new kind of hero emerged. Clad in a sleek red and black suit, Spiderwoman swung from building to building, keeping a watchful eye on the city she vowed to protect.
Yu Jimin, a seemingly ordinary woman by day, carried the weight of a secret identity. By night, she embraced her extraordinary abilities and became the guardian of Seoul. As Spiderwoman, she effortlessly swung through the cityscape, her agility and strength unmatched.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Jimin perched atop a high-rise building, scanning the city for any signs of trouble. Her enhanced senses picked up on a distant commotion, and with a graceful leap, she swung into action.
Down on the streets, chaos ensued as a group of villains wreaked havoc, terrorizing innocent civilians. Without hesitation, Spiderwoman descended upon the scene, her presence casting a shadow over the criminals.
"Looks like the party's over, gentlemen," she quipped, her voice laced with a confident edge.
The villains, startled by the sudden appearance of the city's masked guardian, prepared to face off against the formidable Spiderwoman. The confrontation unfolded in a series of acrobatic moves and swift strikes, showcasing Jimin's mastery of her newfound abilities.
As the last villain was apprehended, Spiderwoman turned to the gathered crowd, her mask concealing the determined glint in her eyes. "Fear not, citizens of Seoul. Spiderwoman is here to ensure your safety."
Word of the mysterious heroine spread across the city, capturing the imagination of its inhabitants. While Jimin navigated her daily life as an unassuming individual, she couldn't deny the thrill that came with her nightly escapades as Spiderwoman.
In a city where shadows concealed both villains and heroes, Jimin grappled with the responsibility that came with her extraordinary abilities. The balance between protecting the city and preserving her personal life became a delicate dance, and as the night sky witnessed her silent struggles, Seoul remained oblivious to the identity of its mysterious guardian, Spiderwoman.
____________________
It was move-in day at the college dorms, and the hallways buzzed with excitement and nervous energy. yn, lugging a heavy suitcase behind her, scanned the room numbers until she found hers: Room 302. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The room was small but cozy, furnished with two twin beds, desks cluttered with textbooks, and a large window overlooking the campus grounds. yn's eyes landed on her new roommate, who was unpacking a box of books with an infectious smile on her face.
Jimin looked up and flashed a warm grin at yn. "Hey there! You must be my new roommate. I'm Yu Jimin. It's nice to meet you!"
yn returned the smile, instantly feeling at ease in Jimin's presence. "Hi, Jimin. I'm yn. Nice to meet you too."
And with that simple introduction, the bond between Jimin and yn began to form, setting the stage for the adventures that lay ahead. What yn didn’t know was that her quirky and endearing roommate held a secret that would change both of their lives forever.
____________________
After their initial meeting, Jimin and yn quickly settled into their roles as roommates. Jimin's bubbly personality and penchant for nerdy jokes brought a lightness to their shared space, while yn's calm and grounded demeanor provided a sense of stability.
As days turned into weeks, yn couldn't help but notice a peculiar pattern. Jimin seemed to have an uncanny knack for getting injured. Whether it was tripping over her own feet or accidentally bumping into furniture, Jimin always seemed to have a new bruise or scrape to show for it.
At first, yn brushed it off as Jimin just being incredibly clumsy. She would tease Jimin gently, offering band-aids and ice packs whenever Jimin came back from another misadventure.
But as time went on, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Jimin's frequent injuries. She noticed the way Jimin would tense up whenever yn asked about how she got hurt, quickly deflecting the conversation with a laugh or a joke.
yn's curiosity grew, and she began to pay closer attention to Jimin's behavior. She noticed how Jimin would sometimes slip out of their dorm room in the middle of the night, only to return hours later looking exhausted and worn out.
Despite her suspicions, yn didn't confront Jimin about her weird midnight escapades. Instead, she quietly observed, but the more she observed Jimin, the more confused she felt.
What on earth could her dorky roommate be up to?
____________________
Amidst the bustling city streets, chaos reigned as a gang of masked criminals wreaked havoc, their nefarious intentions casting a shadow of fear over the unsuspecting civilians. Amidst the chaos, a lone figure swung gracefully through the air, her lithe form a blur of crimson and black against the night sky.
Spiderwoman, as she was known to the citizens of the city, moved with fluid precision, her keen senses alert to the danger that lurked around every corner. With effortless grace, she leaped from building to building, her web-slinging abilities propelling her forward with astonishing speed.
As she closed in on the scene of the crime, Spiderwoman's senses tingled with anticipation, her heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled excitement. With a deft flick of her wrist, she shot a web line towards a nearby lamppost, swinging around it with practiced ease before landing gracefully on the ground below.
With a swift and decisive movement, Spiderwoman sprang into action, her movements a blur of acrobatic prowess as she dispatched her foes with precision and finesse. Her spider-like agility and lightning-fast reflexes left the criminals reeling, their futile attempts to strike back thwarted at every turn.
As the last of the criminals lay defeated at her feet, Spiderwoman allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction before turning her attention back to her true objective. With a confident smirk, she shot a web line towards the nearest rooftop, launching herself into the air with a graceful leap.
Minutes later, Spiderwoman landed silently on the rooftop of the college dormitory she shared with yn, her heart racing with exhilaration from the night's events. With practiced stealth, she slipped through the window and into the darkness of her room, her secret identity safe for another day.
____________________
One evening, as yn was studying in the shared dorm room, she heard a loud crash coming from the living area. Startled, she rushed out to find Jimin sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle in pain.
"Jimin, are you okay?"
Jimin winced as she attempted to sit up, her face contorted in pain. "I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts like crazy."
yn hurried to Jimin's side, helping her to sit up and inspecting the injury. Sure enough, Jimin's ankle was swollen and bruised, a clear sign of a sprain.
yn tried to be as gentle as possible with her injured roommate, "let's get some ice on that ankle. I'll grab a cold pack from the freezer."
As yn tended to Jimin's injury, she couldn't help but notice how frequently her roommate seemed to get hurt. It was as if Jimin was a magnet for accidents, always finding herself in precarious situations that resulted in bumps, bruises, and sprains.
Despite her curiosity, yn didn't press Jimin for details about how she got hurt. Instead, she focused on providing comfort and support, knowing that her roommate needed her in moments like these.
As Jimin winced in pain, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jimin's injuries than met the eye. But for now, she pushed aside her suspicions and focused on helping her friend heal.
____________________
One afternoon, as yn returned to their dorm room after class, she absentmindedly pushed open the door without bothering to knock. To her surprise, she found Jimin standing shirtless in the middle of the room, a towel draped over her shoulders.
yn's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight of Jimin's bare torso, but her attention was quickly drawn to the large cut spanning across Jimin's back.
"Jimin, what the hell happened!? You're bleeding!" the younger girl shrieked.
Jimin jumped in surprise, hastily grabbing the towel to cover herself as she turned to face yn.
Jimin stammered, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. "Oh, uh, it's nothing. Just a little mishap while I was... uh, working out." Nailed it.
yn could see the discomfort in Jimin's expression as she hesitated to explain the true cause of her injury. Without another word, yn grabbed the first aid kit from their shared bathroom and motioned for Jimin to sit down on the bed.
"Let me take care of that for you. It looks pretty deep." Jimin felt herself freezing up at the soft look yn sent her way, she obediently walked towards her roommate.
As yn carefully cleaned and bandaged Jimin's wound, she couldn't help but notice the nervous energy radiating from her roommate. It was clear to yn that Jimin was hiding something, but she didn't press for answers, respecting Jimin's privacy.
As they sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken words, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jimin than met the eye. For now, she focused on helping her friend heal, unaware of the deeper feelings brewing beneath the surface.
As she finished wrapping up Jimin’s wound, yn couldn’t help but break the silence that enveloped them.
“You know…” yn began “you don’t have to tell me what actually happened, but I hate it when you get hurt. Please try to be more careful from now on, I can’t bare to see you in pain”. With those words yn got up to put away the first aid kit.
Jimin didn’t say anything, but she couldn’t deny that yn’s words had affected her in a way she couldn’t really describe. She couldn’t keep ignoring the butterflies she felt every time she locked eyes with yn.
____________________
Despite her best efforts to be subtle, Jimin's attempts at dropping hints about her developing feelings for yn were about as inconspicuous as a flashing neon sign. Whether it was lingering glances, awkward attempts at flirting, or fumbling over her words whenever yn was around, Jimin's attempts to express her affection were anything but discreet.
yn, however, wasn't oblivious to Jimin's antics. In fact, she found them rather endearing. She couldn't help but smile to herself whenever Jimin stumbled over her words or blushed furiously whenever their eyes met. yn appreciated Jimin's efforts, even if they weren't exactly subtle.
Despite her awareness of Jimin's feelings, yn decided to play along, enjoying the playful banter and the budding friendship between them. She didn't comment on Jimin's less-than-subtle approach, opting instead to let her roommate express herself in her own quirky way.
As they navigated the delicate dance of friendship and budding romance, yn couldn't help but feel a warmth blossom in her chest whenever she thought of Jimin. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more than friendship brewing between them, and yn was eager to see where their journey would take them.
____________________
("What do you think of superheroes?"
"Um, they're pretty cool, I guess. Why?"
"Oh, no reason. Just curious."
"Okay... Anyway, what's on your mind?"
"Oh, nothing important. Just, you know, hanging out with my favorite person."
"Smooth, Jimin."
"I try my best."
"Uh huh. Well, keep practicing."
"Ouch, right in the ego."
"Hey, you're the one who asked for honesty."
"True. Thanks for keeping me grounded, yn."
"Anytime, Jimin. Anytime.")
____________________
On a random afternoon as the two girls lounged on the couch, idly flipping through channels, they stumbled upon a news report about Spiderwoman. Jimin's heart skipped a beat as she watched, her secret identity suddenly thrust into the spotlight.
"Wow, Spiderwoman is so cool," yn commented, her eyes fixed on the screen. "She's pretty hot too..." she muttered more-so to herself, Jimin still heard her comment though.
Jimin tried to suppress the surge of excitement that bubbled up inside her at yn's words. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, her heart racing as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"Yeah, she's... uh, pretty cool," Jimin managed to mumble, her voice betraying her nerves.
As the report continued, Jimin couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen, her mind racing with a million thoughts. She stole a glance at yn out of the corner of her eye, her heart swelling with affection for the oblivious girl sitting beside her.
In that moment, Jimin realized just how much she cared about yn, and how badly she wished she could share her true identity with her. But the fear of rejection still held her back, casting a shadow over her burgeoning feelings.
As the news segment came to an end and the TV screen flickered to black, Jimin was left grappling with the turmoil of her emotions, uncertain of what the future held for her and yn.
____________________
("Are you made of copper and tellurium?"
"Uh, no? Why?"
"Because you're Cu-Te!"
"Oh, Jimin, that's... something."
"Yeah, I thought it was kind of nerdy but cute. Like me."
"Definitely cute. And modest too."
"Thanks. I'll take that as a win.")
____________________
“Hey Jimin? Do you think you can help me out with this subject?”
The question was innocent enough, nothing was supposed to happen between Jimin and yn, right?
Jimin and yn sat together in their cozy dorm room, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows across the room. They had been studying for hours, their textbooks forgotten as their conversation drifted to more personal topics.
As the evening wore on, their proximity seemed to amplify the crackling tension between them. Jimin's heart raced as she stole glances at yn, her features illuminated by the gentle light. yn's laughter rang out, filling the room with its melodic cadence, and Jimin found herself captivated by the way yn's eyes sparkled with amusement.
With each passing moment, the air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken desire. Jimin's gaze lingered on yn's lips, the urge to lean in almost overwhelming. She could feel the heat of yn's breath against her skin, a tangible reminder of their closeness.
yn's fingers brushed against Jimin's hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. Their eyes met, a silent exchange of longing and yearning passing between them. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them suspended in time.
As Jimin and yn found themselves drawn closer together, the tension between them palpable, it seemed as if the world around them faded into the background. Their gazes locked, inches apart, their lips mere moments away from touching in a long-awaited kiss.
But just as they leaned in, on the precipice of that anticipated connection, Jimin's heightened senses kicked in. A familiar tingle crept up her spine, a warning sign that duty called. A new crime awaited Spiderwoman's intervention, pulling her away from the brink of intimacy with yn.
With a heavy heart, Jimin reluctantly pulled back, the disappointment evident in both their eyes. Yn's expression mirrored Jimin's own sense of longing, the momentary promise of closeness snatched away by the demands of Jimin's secret life as Spiderwoman.
Their interrupted moment hung in the air, charged with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Though duty called Jimin away, the memory of their almost-kiss lingered, a tantalizing glimpse of what could have been, leaving both girls yearning for the day they could pick up where they left off.
--
Somehow the almost kiss made Jimin even more awkward than she already was. Jimin didn’t know how to behave around yn. Should she keep her distance? Should she seize the day and kiss the girl? One thing was for sure, she wanted her roommate badly.
Jimin's heart skipped a beat as yn emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a towel. She tried to focus on her textbook, but her eyes kept drifting back to her roommate's figure. yn seemed oblivious to Jimin's internal struggle as she nonchalantly rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear.
Jimin cleared her throat, attempting to regain her composure. "Uh, yn, do you need help finding something?"
yn turned to her, a playful grin on her lips. "No, I'm good, thanks. Just trying to decide what to wear for tonight." yn knew perfectly what kind of effect she had on Jimin and she planned to use it to her advantage.
Jimin nodded, unable to tear her gaze away. "Right, yeah, you look... um, nice."
yn giggled, seemingly unfazed by Jimin's flustered state. " In nothing but a towel? Wow. Thanks, Jimin. You're sweet."
As yn finally settled on an outfit and disappeared into her room, Jimin let out a shaky breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. Being roommates with yn was both a blessing and a curse, especially when moments like this left her feeling more than a little flustered.
____________________
("Are you a magician, yn?"
"No, why?"
"Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears."
"Smooth, Jimin."
"I try my best. So, do I get a round of applause for that one?"
"You definitely get points for creativity."
"Well, I'm glad you appreciate my efforts."
"I appreciate the entertainment, that's for sure."
"I'll take what I can get. Maybe next time I'll pull a rabbit out of a hat or something."
"Looking forward to it.")
____________________
As the night enveloped the city in its dark embrace, yn found herself walking alone, lost in her own thoughts. Unbeknownst to her, danger lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike. Suddenly, a group of masked assailants emerged from the darkness, their intentions menacing and clear.
yn's heart pounded in her chest as fear gripped her, her instincts urging her to flee, but before she could react, a figure swooped down from above, a blur of red and black, swiftly dispatching yn's would-be attackers with a flurry of punches and kicks.
In the chaos of the moment, yn barely registered what was happening, her mind consumed by a whirlwind of confusion and fear. But as the dust settled and her assailants lay defeated, she found herself face to face with her savior, the enigmatic figure who had appeared out of nowhere to rescue her.
Spiderwoman stood before her, her mask concealing her identity but her presence radiating strength and reassurance. yn's eyes widened in astonishment, a mix of awe and gratitude washing over her as she realized the magnitude of what had just occurred.
"Spiderwoman...” yn began, her voice barely above a whisper “You saved me."
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Spiderwoman replied in an incredibly gentle tone. yn couldn’t shake off the fact that her gentleness felt familiar. Maybe it was a superhero thing.
yn shook her head, still reeling from the adrenaline rush of the encounter. Spiderwoman's concern was palpable, her eyes searching yn's face for any signs of injury or distress.
"I-I'm okay, thanks to you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up." The girl was clearly shaken, but she still tried to voice how grateful she was.
"Just doing my job. Stay safe out here, alright? And remember, if you ever need help, I'll be watching over you."
With that, Spiderwoman vanished into the night, leaving yn standing alone in the aftermath of the encounter. Though shaken by the ordeal, a newfound sense of reassurance settled over her, knowing that she had a guardian angel watching over her, even in the darkest of times.
--
As yn stepped back into the familiar surroundings of their dorm room, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter, she found Jimin sitting on her bed, a book in hand. Jimin looked up as yn entered, her eyes immediately drawn to the dreamy expression on her roommate's face.
"Hey, everything okay?" Perfect execution, Jimin!
yn, still caught in a daydream, replied to the best of her ability, "Oh, Jimin, you won't believe what just happened. I met Spiderwoman!"
Jimin's eyes widened in excitement, a grin spreading across her face at yn's words. She set her book aside, leaning forward eagerly as yn recounted the thrilling encounter with the mysterious superhero.
"No way! What was it like? Did she say anything to you?" You really are the perfect actress, Yu Jimin!
yn launched into a vivid retelling of the encounter, her words animated with the lingering rush of adrenaline and awe. She described Spiderwoman's swift intervention, her unwavering bravery in the face of danger, and the sense of reassurance she had instilled in yn with her presence.
"It was incredible, Jimin. I've never felt so safe and protected in my life." yn let out a dreamy sigh.
Jimin listened intently, her eyes shining with excitement as she hung on yn's every word. She couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at yn's reaction to meeting her alter ego, knowing that she had played a part in protecting and wooing her roommate.
"That's amazing, yn. I'm so glad you're okay. And hey, if you ever want to meet her again, just let me know. I might be able to arrange something." Smooth, Jimin! She’s finally yours!
yn smiled at Jimin's offer, grateful for her roommate's unwavering support and excitement. In that moment, as they shared the thrill of yn's encounter with Spiderwoman, their bond grew stronger than ever, united by a shared sense of wonder and admiration for the extraordinary hero in their midst.
However, yn didn’t know that this was only the first of many encounters she would share with Spiderwoman.
____________________
As yn made her way home through the quiet streets, the late hour casting elongated shadows across the pavement, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. She was lost in her thoughts, unaware of the vigilant figure watching over her from the rooftops above.
Suddenly, a familiar figure descended gracefully from the darkness, landing before yn with a quiet rustle of fabric. yn looked up in surprise, her eyes widening as she recognized the unmistakable silhouette of Spiderwoman.
"Spiderwoman! What a pleasant surprise." yn let out, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been dreaming about this very moment.
"Hey there, yn. Just out for a stroll?" Spiderwoman said as casually as she could.
Wait… yn?
yn froze, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of her own name slipping past Spiderwoman's lips. She turned to her companion, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
yn nodded, feeling bewildered, returning Spiderwoman's smile as she fell into step beside her mysterious companion. They walked together in companionable silence for a while, the only sound the soft shuffle of their footsteps against the pavement. However, yn couldn’t brush off her surprise.
Why does she know my name?
Eventually, yn couldn't resist the urge to strike up a conversation, her curiosity piqued by the enigmatic figure at her side.
"So, Spiderwoman” yn said in an overly casual tone, “anything exciting happen tonight?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Just keeping an eye on the city." Spiderwoman said, trying her best to sound cool.
yn nodded, content to enjoy the peaceful camaraderie of their impromptu encounter. Still, she made sure to keep a close eye on her companion. Maybe she’ll let her guard down.
"So, yn..." Spiderwoman made a mistake. Again.
I got you now.
“Can I ask you a question, Spidey?”
Jimin is embarrassed by how fast her heart started beating after hearing yn refer to her by a nickname. “Sure, what’s up?”
“How did you know my name was yn? I never told you”.
Spiderwoman's mask hid the flicker of panic that flashed across her features at yn's question. She scrambled for a plausible explanation, her mind racing to come up with a convincing response.
"Um, well, you know, I, uh... I just happened to overhear it somewhere. Must have slipped out accidentally."
yn studied Spiderwoman's masked visage intently, a lingering sense of suspicion nagging at the back of her mind. However, she chose to let the matter drop for now, unwilling to push her mysterious companion any further. She is sure she’ll get her chance sooner rather than later.
"Ah, got it. Well, thanks for the company, Spiderwoman. It's always nice to have someone to walk with." She smiled in a way that gave Jimin a heart attack for a million different reasons.
"Anytime, yn. Take care on your way home." Nailed it.
With a final wave, Spiderwoman melted back into the shadows, leaving yn to ponder the intriguing encounter as she continued on her journey homeward. Despite the unanswered questions lingering in her mind, she couldn't deny the sense of comfort and reassurance that Spiderwoman's presence had brought her on this dark and lonely night.
--
yn stepped through the door of the dormitory, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Spiderwoman. As she entered the familiar surroundings of their shared living space, she was greeted by the sight of Jimin sitting on the couch, a playful glint in her eye.
"Hey there, yn! How was your walk?" Jimin said cheerfully.
yn's lips quirked into a knowing smile as she regarded her roommate, her suspicions about Spiderwoman's true identity suddenly crystallizing into certainty. She decided to play along for now, relishing the opportunity to keep Jimin's secret while she plotted her next move.
"Oh, you know, nothing out of the ordinary. Although I did run into someone interesting on the way back." A slight smirk playing at her lips.
Jimin's eyes widened slightly at yn's cryptic remark, a hint of apprehension flickering across her features before she quickly masked it with an easy grin.
"Oh yeah? Who'd you meet?"
yn leaned against the doorframe, her expression enigmatic as she met Jimin's gaze head-on. Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Spidey.
"Let's just say she's someone who knows how to keep the city safe, even late at night."
Jimin's breath caught in her throat, a surge of panic coursing through her veins at yn's words. She struggled to maintain her composure, her mind racing to concoct a plausible explanation for her alter ego's unexpected appearance in their conversation.
"Ha, lucky you, running into interesting people all the time!” Jimin let out an awkward laugh. “You'll have to introduce me sometime."
yn's smirk widened into a knowing grin as she watched Jimin squirm under the weight of her unspoken revelation. She made a mental note to bide her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to confront Jimin head on.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough." With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air, yn sauntered off to her room, leaving Jimin to grapple with the unsettling realization that her carefully guarded secret might not be safe for much longer.
Maybe you’re not the perfect actress, Yu Jimin.
____________________
Okay, time to do something stupid!
yn stood defiantly in the dimly lit alley, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the inevitable. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with her roommate-turned-superhero. But she couldn't resist the thrill of the chase, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she knowingly put herself in harm's way.
As she glanced nervously around the shadowy confines of the alley, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Seconds later, Spiderwoman materialized out of the darkness, her lithe figure cutting a striking silhouette against the night sky.
"yn, what are you doing here? It's not safe!" Spiderwoman exclaimed, her voice dripping with concern.
yn met Spiderwoman's concerned gaze with a defiant glint in her eye, her resolve unyielding as she faced the repercussions of her reckless actions head-on.
"I knew you'd come. I needed to prove a point."
Spiderwoman's brow furrowed in frustration, her voice tinged with exasperation as she chided yn for her foolhardy behavior.
"You can't go around doing stuff like this, yn! You're putting yourself in unnecessary danger. What if something had happened to you?" Spiderwoman said, her frustration skyrocketing. “What if I wasn’t her to protect you, huh? You’re acting like a toddler”.
yn bristled at Spiderwoman's stern tone, her own temper flaring as she pushed back against the other girl's unwavering concern.
"Yu Jimin, enough! Stop treating me like a child. I know exactly what I’m doing."
What?
The words hung heavy in the air between them, a palpable tension crackling with the weight of unspoken truths. In that fleeting moment, Spiderwoman's mask of stoicism slipped, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath the facade.
Spiderwoman's eyes widened in shock at the sound of her real name on yn's lips, her heart skipping a beat as she grappled with the sudden shift in dynamics between them. In that brief, poignant moment, the boundaries that had once defined their relationship blurred, leaving behind a lingering sense of uncertainty and unspoken desires.
Jimin's heart pounded erratically in her chest as she watched yn's expression soften, her eyes brimming with unspoken affection. She couldn't believe she had let slip her secret identity, couldn't fathom the repercussions of her reckless actions. But as yn's gaze met hers with unwavering warmth, Jimin felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a glimmer of possibility in the midst of uncertainty.
"How... How did you find out?" Jimin’s voice barely above a whisper.
yn's smile was gentle, her voice infused with a quiet reassurance as she met Jimin's gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I noticed the little things, the way you always seem to disappear whenever trouble arises, the injuries that miraculously heal overnight. And then there was that slip-up with my name."
Jimin's shoulders sagged with relief at yn's honest confession, her heart swelling with gratitude for the other girl's unwavering acceptance.
"I'm sorry, yn. I never meant to keep this from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you." Jimin felt like she could cry, she was feeling too much at the moment. Oh brother, I need to lie down.
yn reached out to gently cup Jimin's cheek, her touch tender and reassuring as she offered the other girl a small, understanding smile.
"It's okay, Jimin. I understand. But from now on, let's promise to be honest with each other, no matter what." yn’s smile gave Jimin hope. For the first time, Jimin felt like everything was going to be okay.
Jimin nodded fervently, her heart overflowing with gratitude for yn's unwavering support. As the weight of secrecy lifted from her shoulders, Jimin felt a renewed sense of longing blossom within her, a newfound courage to embrace the vulnerabilities that lay bare between them.
"Thank you, yn. How can I make it up to you?"
yn's smile widened into a mischievous grin as she reached out to delicately trace the contours of Jimin's mask, her touch sending shivers down the other girl's spine.
"I think I have an idea." yn lowered her voice, a smirk on her lips.
With a deft motion, yn carefully pulled away Jimin's mask, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath the facade. In that moment of unspoken intimacy, Jimin felt the walls that had once separated them crumble away, leaving behind an undeniable connection that transcended the boundaries of secrecy and fear.
As their lips finally met in a long-awaited kiss, the world around them faded into obscurity, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotion that pulsed between them. In that fleeting moment of shared vulnerability, Jimin and yn found solace in each other's arms, daring to believe that love might just conquer all.
____________________
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Jimin and yn had decided to spend the day together at their shared dorm room. As they lounged on the couch, Jimin scrolled through her phone while yn leaned against her, idly playing with Jimin's hair.
Suddenly, a breaking news alert flashed across the screen, announcing Spiderwoman's latest heroic feat. yn glanced up, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, as she nudged Jimin playfully. "Looks like your alter ego is making headlines again."
Jimin chuckled, leaning into yn's touch as she replied, "Yeah, she's always stealing the spotlight."
yn grinned, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Jimin's scalp as she teased, "I bet she's just trying to impress her girlfriend."
Jimin's cheeks flushed pink at the playful jab, but she couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. Wrapping an arm around yn, she pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Well, she's lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend." Jimin whispered against her girlfriend’s temple. Tease me all you want, at the end of the day you still agreed to be mine.
yn grinned, leaning into Jimin's embrace as she retorted, "Flattery will get you everywhere, Spidey."
The two of them dissolved into laughter, the playful banter a comforting reminder of the easy chemistry they shared. As they snuggled together on the couch, Jimin and yn savored the simple joy of being together, grateful for the love and laughter that filled their lives.
With Jimin's arm wrapped around her and the warmth of their shared affection enveloping them, yn couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. And as they basked in each other's company, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm.
____________________
("Are you a time traveler, yn?"
"No, why?"
"Because every time I look at you, I feel like I'm going back in time. To the moment I fell in love with you."
"Jimin..."
"Gotcha."
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"But you love me anyway, right?"
"Always.")
____________________
A/N: Here we go, spider Jimin! I had this sitting on my drafts for the longest time, but here it is. Thank you so much for reading!
I'm working on some requests and I might add a Valentine's Day special as well. It all depends on my schedule, I'm getting a new one tomorrow so we shall see how it goes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, if you want to request something, feel free to let me know.
#aespa imagines#aespa scenarios#aespa x fem reader#karina imagines#karina scenarios#aespa#yu jimin#yu jimin scenarios#yu jimin x reader#karina x reader#yoo jimin x reader#yoo jimin#aespa fanfic#yoo jimin aespa#karina aespa#aespa karina#aespa x reader#yu jimin imagines#aespa fic#aespa fluff
595 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sunrise, Crystallize I: to pray to a fallen deity.
Masterlist // Next Chapter
Zhongli x Gn!reader
SFW (there will be nsfw chapters but I will keep them separate so everyone may enjoy.)
Word count: 6.2k
You find yourself seeking solace in the prayers you speak to the god of your new home, despite the fact that he’s passed away. Despite the fact that no one answers, your loneliness seems to be lessened by the warmth of the sunrise. You gain a few new companions, and push through your awkward and nervous disposition to embark on a challenge that you may or may not have little hope of succeeding in.
CW: reader has anxiety, real deep lack of self confidence. Very socially awkward. Reader is a florist, running a greenhouse in the harbour. (Author has absolutely zero florist experience or knowledge, so many apologies.)
Authors note: this is the first chapter of many to come, as Zhongli was my first love in genshin impact. This is kind of self indulgent, because while I really enjoy badass, beautiful, desirable reader inserts who exemplify everything I want to be, part of me really fantasizes about what it might be like to have such a desirable character love me not despite of, but because of my self-perceived flaws. I also think that Zhongli is a wonderful character to explore this dynamic with, as he’s incredibly patient and thoughtful, and having lived for 6000+ years— I can really see him finding someone who is socially his opposite very charming. Anyways, please enjoy this first chapter!
———————
Watching the sun rise on Yujing Terrace had become your most beloved pastime since the death of Rex Lapis. You’d never really ventured up the steps further than Bubu pharmacy, but after everything that happened, you decided to go and pay your respects in a more private setting.
You hadn’t attended the rite of parting. It felt too strange, seeing as you weren’t from Liyue, but you’d lived in the harbor long enough to feel a little twinge of guilt afterwards.
The attack on the harbor had halted your plans, you really hadn’t wanted to venture outside when there was an ancient sea god wreaking havoc in the waters just beyond your home. But once everything was settled, and the novelty of Rex lapis’ passing finally became outshone by recent events, you decided it was time.
You’d spent all evening working in your greenhouse, realizing the night had escaped you only when your eyes barely skimmed across a clock on your way to grab fresh potting soil from your storage room. You’d figured beating the morning rush to the terrace was better for your sanity, and washed your hands before heading out.
The sun had not begun to rise, everything washed in fading starlight as you made your way up the stone stairs. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that only the Milileth were occupying the terrace, a few standing guard here and there and a few making their rounds.
One soldier looked at you a bit warily, most likely wondering why you were here so early. But he only nodded politely when you sheepishly showed him your box of incense.
When you made it to the topmost part of the terrace, you lit a singular stick and placed it in the holder. You’d seen people immediately murmuring their prayers after lighting their incense, but you weren’t really sure what to say, so you walked around a bit before standing at the railing facing east over the harbor.
The water looked so peaceful. The sky had started brightening, the first glimmers of the rising sun peeking up from the horizon, casting early shadows along the boats and buildings.
You took a deep breath, pushing your exhale further than normal. Your chest felt strange, You’d never really prayed to anyone before.
“Um…” you fiddled with your hands on the stone railing, watching the sun rise ever so slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t attend your rite of parting. Crowds are really not my thing.”
You felt too strange to say his name out loud, hoping that wherever the wind took your words would eventually lead to wherever he was resting. Where did gods go when they die?
“I’ve not lived in the harbor long, but I can see why you loved it. Though I have been here long enough to understand the love you must have had for your people, and the love they gave to you in return. Despite that, I feel as though we’re all going to be just fine in your absence.”
You cringed a little, wondering if your words came across too crass or irreverent.
“Ah, well, what I mean to say is you shouldn’t worry.” you chewed on your lip, watching more shadows form along the harbor as the sun grew and grew over the sea, bathing the sky in oranges and pinks.
“Oh, what else do people say when they do this…” you mumbled. “People usually ask for blessings or good fortune, don’t they? I’ve never really understood that. I won’t ask for anything… or is that rude too?” You could never remember the protocol for things like this.
“Maybe I’ll just ask for happiness. If you can send some sense of fulfillment my way, that would be nice. But don’t put yourself out or anything.”
You scoffed at yourself, rolling your eyes as you gazed out at the sea. “Or maybe I should just give my blessing to you. Does anyone do that? Ask for blessings and good fortune for you?”
You shook your head, leaning on the railing and smiling at yourself a bit. It felt like you were talking to yourself, but it wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as you thought.
“Well then, I ask that you rest in peace. You deserve it after the multiple millennia you endured. I can't imagine having to work for that long, sounds exhausting.” You yawned, stretching out your limbs.
It was strange, you felt tired— obviously. Being up all night was not exactly ideal, but standing there, watching the beautiful sun rise over your city, you couldn’t help but feel a warm wash of pure… peace. You felt good. You didn’t feel so alone.
You looked around a bit, still seeing that no one was near you, before looking up half heartedly at the sky.
“Is that you? Is that why people do this sort of thing?” You smiled as the sun finally broke its way from the water, painting the sky in all its glorious colors.
Hmm. Perhaps I should design a new sunrise themed bouquet.
You rubbed the tiredness from your eyes as you made your way back to the stairs, but as you walked through the first archway, your eyes caught sight of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
He was standing, holding a cup of tea while he chatted with an elderly woman at her table. The warm, early sunlight bathed him in its amber hues, making the colors of his clothing gleam, and exposing the rich warm tones of his hair.
He was exceptionally tall, that much you could tell, even from so far away. He held himself with such grace and poise that you couldn’t help but stare. He looked like royalty. He looked like he belonged on a throne, not walking amongst the common people.
His smile was small but contagious— you’d pressed a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you were grinning as he did down at the little old lady in front of him.
The woman chuckled a bit, before turning to the small flower bed behind her, before picking one of the flowers that was growing there.
A glaze lily? They were extremely rare, you knew that for certain. They hardly grew in the wild, which is why you hadn’t bothered to grow them for your shop yet, as you harvested the majority of your seeds by yourself.
He took the delicate flower in his gloved hand, bringing it to his nose and taking what looked like a deep breath. Your heart lurched as his face became almost solemn, but he pushed a smile through and nodded to the woman, saying something you couldn’t hear.
You couldn’t help but watch as he finished his tea, his striking eyes scanning around the terrace. It was a moment too late when you realized his eyes were eventually going to fall on you. You— who was watching him like some sort of lunatic.
His eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, and even from a distance they seemed to burn in the early morning sunshine. You instantly flushed, an embarrassing noise fluttering past your lips as you turned around and hid behind the archway, hoping that it looked like you were just heading back towards the overlook.
You took several deep breaths before you dared peek around the corner again, sighing in relief as you watched the beautiful man make his way down the steps.
That was the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. You thought, before shaking your head as memories of far more embarrassing events flooded your brain. Actually, never mind. That was pretty far down on the list.
You almost thought that perhaps you never wanted to see that man again, for fear of embarrassing yourself once more— but that thought was quickly swept away. It would be a shame never to see him again. He was far too pretty.
———————
it was about a month into your new habit when the elderly woman called out to you.
You were simply making your way back towards the stairs, having only ever greeted her with a polite nod or a rushed “good morning!” Here and there, so you were surprised when she called you over and invited you for tea.
You introduced yourself, and she smiled, pouring you a cup.
“Ah, you’re the young one running that new flower shop, yes?”
You nodded. “Yes ma’am. ‘New beginnings: flowers and things.’ I sell little trinkets and gifts here and there when I collect them on my travels. But mostly it's just my flowers.”
”oh, you little darling. No need to be so formal. You can call me granny if you like— or Ping. Either or.”
Normally you wouldn’t be so formal with someone you’d just met, especially an elder, but there was something about Ping that made you feel so comfortable.
“Alright, Granny.” You smiled.
“Much better. “ she said, taking her seat. “Now why don’t you tell me all about your shop. I was very surprised when I heard that someone had built a little greenhouse in the city.”
And so began your new routine of waking up early to watch the sunrise— talking to yourself under the guise of “praying to Rex Lapis”, and having your morning tea while chatting with Madame Ping.
Ping turned out to be quite the gossip, and you got most of your updates on the comings and goings of the people through her. You learned about her disciples, though you weren’t quite sure what she was a master of. She seemed very wise, having many a tale to tell and advice on things that plagued you.
One morning you brought her a speciality bouquet of Cecelia’s, one of your more popular flowers, and she gushed about how thoughtful you were.
“I hope you don’t mind, I stole one from the bouquet earlier and left it on the overlook as an offering with my incense.” You said, sipping your tea.
“Nonsense, they’re your flowers to begin with, dear. I never would have even known if you hadn’t said something.” She pulls a vase from beneath her table, and pours some water from her nearby jug inside. Ping places the flowers in the vase, fluffing up the greenery to look nice and setting it on the other end of her table.
“There, just beautiful. Thank you my dear.” She says, sitting back down.
”It's really no trouble. They’re some of my last Cecelias, my recent batch of seedlings went bad. I'll have to make a trip to Mondstadt to collect more seeds soon.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt.
“If you need someone to watch over the shop for you while you’re gone, I’m well acquainted with a traveler who is just perfect for odd jobs like that when they have the time.”
“Oh,” you said, looking out at the colors fading from the sky. “That might be nice, I’ve been putting off going out because I’m not too sure who I can trust to watch the greenhouse.”
You were trying hard to hide your wavering tone, but you knew immediately Madam Ping had caught on.
“Is there something else on your mind, dear?” She said, “You know you can talk to me about anything that troubles you.”
You paused, looking around a bit before you took a deep breath. “It’s just…”
Chewing your lip, you sighed at her kindness. You knew better than to be anxious around Ping, but your embarrassment over what you had been doing the last month was eating at you.
“Is it strange that I've been… praying to Rex Lapis every morning, even though he’s no longer with us?”
“Ah,” Ping hummed, her eyes glittering with mirth. “I had been wondering what you do over there before the sun rises. When you said you left a flower as an offering, I thought perhaps you prayed to a lost loved one, but Rex Lapis?”
“I know— it's odd isn’t it? I don’t even know if gods still hear prayers when they pass but—“
“Nonsense.” She interrupted your downward spiral, her tone light to soothe you. “There are plenty of people who still pray to our fallen archon. And I can guarantee you that wherever he is resting— those prayers still make it through to him, and crystal clear at that. He may not be able to descend from the heavens as a magnificent dragon to grant the wishes of his followers anymore, but he will always bear witness to our prayers, of that you can be certain.”
“Oh,” you breathed. You weren’t sure if you believed her, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Do you think it bothers him? To hear so many people while he is trying to rest?”
“I’m sure the requests for wealth and glory get rather tedious very quickly.” Madame Ping laughs. “But what do you pray to him for?”
You flush, running your finger along your teacup. “I don’t really ask him for anything. I just sort of… tell him about things?” You shrug, feeling rather sheepish.
Ping simply nods, encouraging you to continue.
“I wasn’t really ever certain he could even be listening. It just feels nice to get things off my chest, you know?” You took another sip of tea. “I feel sort of bad, I mainly just vent to him— it’s kind of like chatting with you, granny. Only I say things I might not be comfortable sharing with others.”
Ping hums, staring out over the harbor thoughtfully.
“I’m sure your kind of prayers are the most interesting to him. Perhaps even his favorite.” She says after a few moments.
“Really?” You scrunched up your nose a bit. “I find that sort of hard to believe.”
Ping smiled, and her eyes seemed to glitter with something unknown. She always seemed to be brimming with unobtainable knowledge, it kept you clinging to her every word in hopes of soaking it up.
“It was once said that after so many years of being a god— watching over his people and nation with the weight of thousands of years of history and bloodshed upon his shoulders — that Rex Lapis would don a disguise and wander among his people, to gain a taste of what it was like to be human.” She gathered your empty teacup, placed it on the tray with the rest of the tea set and put it aside. “I think perhaps your prayers would remind him of simpler times, of what it is like to be human.”
You let her words ruminate for a while, watching as the harbor started to wake up— typically your sign to tuck tail and run home.
Finally, you spoke.
“Do you think he enjoyed my flower offering?” You asked.
Ping smiled wide, eyeing her bouquet of Cecelias.
“I think it's a lovely gesture, but he was particularly fond of the glaze lily. Perhaps those— as opposed to the anemo archons favored flower would be more fitting.”
You cringed. You hadn’t even registered that Cecelia’s were known as Barbatos’ favorite flower. After giving yourself a mental scolding, and a reminder to brush up on your international flora guidebook, you hesitantly spoke up once more.
“I’d love to, but I harvest my own seeds, Granny. I wouldn’t even know where to look for wild glaze lilies. Aren’t they extremely rare?”
She pulled a little sack from beneath her table — she always seemed to have whatever she needed right on hand, how curious. — and gently placed it in your hands.
“These are quite old, but I have a feeling if anyone will be able to get them to sprout, it will be you, dear.”
————————————
You weren’t very hopeful.
Seeds, when preserved under the perfect conditions, can last up to ten years. But extremely rare and delicate flower seeds tucked in a sack under Madam Pings table?
You started small; putting six seeds into six little nursery pots, and diligently reading up on the proper humidity, soil, nutrients and water required for glaze lilies. Within the week, small little green shoots were poking through the soil, and you nearly jumped for joy.
The revelry was short lived when the following week you entered the nursery to find six shriveled up, sad, and very dead plants. You cussed under your breath as you stomped around your greenhouse, reading through your glaze lily guide and wondering what went wrong.
You had plenty of seeds, plenty of room for trial and error.
You just did not expect the trial and error to last several months.
It was the morning after you found your most recent batch absolutely ruined. The humidity or the hydration levels were off, they had to be. What other reason would they have turned to mush for? You’d abandoned the guidebook long ago, it was a lying liar who killed your plants before they even budded.
“It’s just so frustrating, you know?” You said, leaning against the railing of the overlook. “I feel like if I can't do this, then my entire life as a florist has been for nothing.”
There was no response, but you sort of enjoyed that. You still weren’t sure if you entirely believed Madam Ping when she said that the archon could still hear you, but you’d never stopped your ranting and rambling to him either way.
“I know, I know. I’m being dramatic.” You flicked a pebble off the railing, watching as it tumbled down into the trees below. “This started out as me just wanting to give you a proper offering, one that you’d like. But now it feels like something I’m meant to do. If I can find a way to make Glaze Lilies more prosperous in Liyue again, I feel as though that would be a much better gift in your honor— as opposed to just… sitting one on the terrace to get stolen or blown away in the wind.”
Still no answer, but once again you were enveloped by that warm and lustrous feeling of peace as the sun rose over the water. Perhaps you were becoming addicted to this feeling. You certainly would not feel as ready to get through another day without it.
You gave a deep sigh, thinking long and hard before you decided it was time to ask for help.
“Granny?” You said as you made your way to her table. “Do you know anyone who has information on how Glaze Lilies were cultivated in the past?”
——————————
You were absolutely filthy.
Your knees were coated in dirt, wet soil clinging to your arms where your gloves didn’t cover. You were nearly certain your hair was a complete disaster.
None of that mattered. Your other plants were thriving, your shop was freshly stocked with premade bouquets and trimmed flowers for custom bouquets. You just unloaded your shipment of silk ribbons and wrapping paper, and were now nearly elbow deep in buckets of potting soil for your Mourning flowers.
They required a specific blend of nutrients and earth in comparison to your other flowers, and with your newest batch almost ready to trim, you needed to get a move on with the new growth before they all sold out.
You had just finished the mixing when the bell on the front door of your shop jingled.
“Just a moment, I’ll be right with you!” You yelled out.
The greenhouse was built connected to the shop which housed your little apartment on the second floor.
Everything was relatively close, so you often worked in the greenhouse during the slow hours. And that damned bell was so loud, though you supposed it had to be, otherwise you could run the risk of people sneaking in and taking what they’d like. Now, you didn’t think that was likely to happen, but it never hurt to be cautious.
You tossed your gloves onto the nearby counter and washed your hands with the bulle fruit scented soap by the sink.
You took off your dirty apron to exchange it for the clean shop apron. It helps to look somewhat put together when greeting customers.
You wiped your damp hands along the sides of the apron as you finished tying the knot, rounding the corner into the shop.
“How can I help you today?” You said, making your way to the front counter and pausing to make sure your bags were stocked in case they were purchasing something.
“I was told by a friend that you were in need of some information on historic flora cultivation?” The mans voice was deep, with a delicious rasp about it that had you wondering exactly what kind of man had a voice so alluring.
You looked up finally, trying to peek through the shelving as he walked along, only to catch glimpses of rich, warm browns. Curse you for stocking your flower bins so damn full.
You caught sight of warm brown hair, the morning sun gleaming in the windows to catch along the amber hues scattered throughout.
Your heart lurched as he turned the corner, watching as his eyes scanned the walls lining your shop— decorated with plants and trinkets, little baubles glimmering in the sunlight.
The face of quiet admiration he gave as he looked at the flowers might’ve buckled your knees if not for the realization that this was the man you had seen Madam Ping speaking to— that day.
This was that man. The man who may or may not have haunted your dreams for weeks after you saw him. You had wanted to ask Ping who he was, but you were so incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation. Now here he was, standing in your shop as you wondered if this was insanely good luck, or insanely bad luck.
“Ah, yes. Gran— I mean, Madame Ping said you might be around today.” You introduced yourself, welcoming him to your store as you tried to keep your voice level.
“It’s a pleasure,” the man said, giving a slight bow. “My name is Zhongli, I currently work at wangsheng funeral parlor as a consultant, but in my spare time I am somewhat of a historian, among other things.”
”It's lovely to meet you, Zhongli.” You wrung your hands together, unsure whether you should look him in the eye or not. They were so startling, so liquid gold it was difficult to hold their gaze.
He simply smiled softly. “I am at your service. Would you perhaps be willing to show me what you’ve been working on?”
As his gaze traveled across you, awaiting your response, but you suddenly became very aware of your current appearance. Surely any minuscule chance you had with this man flew out the window the moment he saw your disastrous hair and dirt scuffed knees.
Not that you thought you really had a chance with him to begin with, but it doesn’t hurt to dream big, right?
“Ah, yes. Of course.” You said, gesturing towards the back entrance to the greenhouse. “Right this way.”
He followed closely as you made your way back. His eyes roamed the expanse of your greenhouse in what looked like appreciation, and he nodded encouragingly at you when you paused to watch his reaction.
“This is quite impressive.”
Feeling your face heat up, you turned to remove your shop apron and threw your dirty one back around your waist with unsteady hands.
“It’s nothing really, I just figured that I should turn my hobby into a source of income, and well…” you hoped he didn’t notice your slight cringe as you donned your gloves once again. “I have a lot of free time on my hands.”
“Such dedication is nothing to shrug off so casually.” He walked around, his eyes catching the latest batch of little failures and he stood in front of them, leaning in close as if to inspect their misery in finer detail.
“These are the lilies?” He said, eyeing the drooping sprouts.
“Yes.” You sighed, coming to stand beside him. You were anxious, sure. But your greenhouse was your safe space. You ruled this kingdom, he was just a guest here. A well dressed, knowledgeable and extremely attractive guest, but you had to convince yourself that everything was fine. If you remained calm and collected, everything would be fine.
Fake it ‘til you make it— or however the saying goes.
“They either shrivel up and dry out, or they take in too much moisture and rot. I had a guidebook, but it was about as helpful as a catalyst in a crystal mine.”
You nearly gaped at him as he let a little chuckle fall from his lips, but he cut it off with a rough clearing of his throat, continuing to look at the plants.
“Hm, well. Let us take a look at the book. I can revise any incorrect information, and we can work from there, yes?”
Nodding, you turn to dig the accursed book from its time out in the pile of shame. (A pile of useless guidebooks that carried misinformation, or were just overall genuinely bad. However terrible they may be, you’d spend decent money on them and refuse to get rid of any of your books. Hence the creation of the pile of shame.)
Handing it to him, you move to start clearing the ruined plants from their nursery pots. You tried not to watch him as he flipped through the book, only allowing yourself little glances from the corner of your eye as you cleaned up. When you were finished, you lined up fresh nursery pots and flicked at a loose thread on the bag of seeds.
“Surprisingly, there are only a few minor discrepancies in this guide. Overall, it seems to be alright, however there is one glaringly obvious detail that has been completely missed.” Zhongli spoke behind you.
“Oh?” You turned, leaning against your countertop as you waited for him to elaborate.
“In order to successfully grow Glaze Lilies, you must sing to them.”
Your brow scrunched in confusion. “Excuse me?”
The corners of his lips tilted up, and you flushed at the attitude leaking from your tone in such a casual manner. You’d only just met this man, and he was being extremely professional and kind in helping you with this matter. Where were your manners?
Zhongli however, seemed unbothered by your casual display, and simply continued on.
“I’ll make the necessary notations here, to correct the minor discrepancies, but the main focus should be — that after the first sign of sprouting — you need to sing to them at least once daily for them to continue growing properly.”
You crossed your arms and looked at him through a furrowed brow.
“You’re not just making fun of me, are you? Because if this is some kind of practical joke, I don't find it very amusing.”
Zhongli smiled warmly, closing the book and leaning quite casually against the opposite countertop, his liquid gold eyes glittering with amusement, but it didn’t seem like the kind that was at your expense.
“I can assure you, I would never jest about something so important, nor would I play any kind of practical joke at your expense. I am simply sharing in my knowledge, hoping to help you in your desires, however I can.”
You felt your heart fluttering, and you attempted to steady your breath. “Alright. I’m sorry, I just…” how could you tell him you weren’t used to people being so sincere? How could you explain that you weren’t used to such kindness without seeming pathetic?
“Please do not worry yourself,” he said, stepping closer. He gestured to the small starting pots behind you. “Shall we get started?”
—————-
“—And now he’s spent the last two weeks dropping by after the parlor closes every day and just— hangs out in the greenhouse while I work? I mean, his help with starting up the lilies was wonderful, but now it’s just about keeping the right moisture levels and singing to them every night, which I refuse to do while he’s there, because I’m not up for embarrassing myself in front of the literal most gorgeous man alive, thank you.”
Your voice carried a little louder than usual, but by now the Milileth knew your routine, and hardly even batted an eye if they heard you speaking to yourself.
The sun hadn’t started to rise yet, you’d gotten to the terrace early, early enough that the lanterns were still lit, illuminating the darkened path up those torturous stairs.
“And he’s so polite? I don’t know how to act around him, he’s always giving such genuine sounding compliments, asking me questions while I work, helping me with little things. Surely a man like that has better things to do with his time?” You huffed, that creeping sense of self loathing wrapping around your shoulders like an old blanket, scratchy and rough, but oh so familiar.
“He’s so beautiful, and intellectual. He’s literally a walking historical archive and I could honestly listen to him talk for hours— But in comparison, I’m just… I’m just a little girl who plays around with dirt and flowers. I really don’t understand why he keeps hanging around.”
You scrunched your nose as the sun started to spill those beautiful colors across the sky.
“Do you think Madame Ping asked him to keep coming around? I know she thinks I'm lonely, but I don't need her to bribe a grown man into being my friend.”
You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “No, I can't see her taking it that far. I just… I really don’t see why he would want to be around me.”
That warm feeling started to envelop you, and you took a deep breath to soak it in. “I know… I have a lot of self worth issues. It’s not like I've asked him why he’s hanging around, I just kind of… let him. Maybe I can work up the courage to ask him why he’s so interested. He probably only wants to see if I can actually manage to grow those flowers.”
You rubbed the lingering sleep from your eyes and lingered a bit longer than usual, wondering what Rex Lapis would think about Mr. Zhongli.
——————————
Around the 3 month mark, when things started looking promising, you developed another new habit.
Instead of spending a dedicated section of time at night standing awkwardly and singing to your newly budded plants, you decided it would save time and effort to just sing away while you do your evening chores in the greenhouse.
You wouldn’t go out on a limb and say that your other plants were magically affected by your singing, but like your lilies, everything in the greenhouse seemed just a bit more vibrant as you did so.
You checked the clock, chewing your lip as you scolded yourself for missing Zhongli’s presence.
About a week ago, he’d stopped by to say that he was taking a leave of absence to go on a trip with a friend of his. He’d introduced the traveler and their strange floating companion to you before they headed off.
“I’ll only be gone for a week, maybe more, but I truly look forward to seeing the progress when I return.”
You’d sort of settled into the strange routine of greeting him in the evenings, making the odd pot of tea while he spoke about anything under the sun, entertaining you while you worked. It felt strange to not have him here, but you knew you couldn’t get too attached. When the lilies bloomed, he would most certainly lose interest, and you’d have to go back to your regular routine of lonely nights.
Your heart felt a bit somber as you hauled a few buckets of mulch along, not really focusing on your surroundings, just zoning out while you sang random tunes to help your lilies grow.
You remember a song you’d heard your grandmother sing a long time ago, a distant memory, but the melody was still so vibrant in your mind.
“Eyes shining like the sunrise,
Ever deeper than the night sky,
Nature sweet, like faun and flora,
More valuable than jade or mora,
Take me me there, safe from harm,
Safe at home, in your arms.
nature's bounty he—“
Your voice caught in your throat as you turned to grab the next bucket only to find Zhongli standing silently in the doorway, eyes nearly glowing in the lantern light.
You jumped, and you were sure if you had something in your hands, it would’ve flown out of them, most likely spilling all over you— embarrassing you even further.
“Zhongli?!” You yelped, throwing a hand over your pounding heart. “I didn’t hear you come in! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
He chuckled, a warm sound you’d grown so fond of hearing. “I did not intend to startle you. Though I am surprised you did not hear me, considering how you’re always on about how loud that bell is.”
“Yes, well,” your face grew so extremely warm, you pulled off your gloves and shoved them in your apron pocket, kicking a foot on the flooring of your greenhouse. ”I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here tonight, so I suppose I let myself get too carried away.”
“I wouldn’t say you were too carried away.” His eyes were sparkling, his smile deeper than you think you’d ever seen it before.
“Wha— are you teasing me? I thought you said you wouldn’t—“ he cut off your rambling with a simple murmuring of your name, nodding to the countertop behind you.
Confused, you turned, and in the moonlight streaming in through exposed glass sat six perfect glaze lilies, fully bloomed.
You walked towards them in awe, feeling Zhongli’s presence not far behind.
“I…” you stared at them, eyes wide and mouth nearly hanging open. “I can’t believe…”
You were hopeful, of course you were. But a part of you genuinely expected to come in one day and find them dead, destroyed like the others. You had wanted this so badly, but after months of failure, you had lost your confidence. But there, sat in front of you in their little pots, sat six perfect fully grown glaze lilies.
“I did it.” You mumbled, turning around to face Zhongli. Your heart felt like it was bursting in your chest. You jumped, barely able to contain your joy as you shrieked.
“I did it!” You excitedly danced around, pumping your fists in the air and whooping, in total bliss at your accomplishment.
“You did it.” Zhongli simply said, smiling down at you.
“We did it!” You yelled, your joy uncontainable. Without thinking, you threw yourself at him, giggling as he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He smelled like amber, like the forest and the mountain air, crisp and pure and addicting. You took another deep breath before you realized what exactly you were doing.
You quickly pushed yourself away, backing up with a squeaking “sorry!” Only in your embarrassment, you completely lost your bearings, immediately tripping backwards on a stack of potting soil sacks and tumbling down.
You tried to catch yourself on the side counter, but only succeeded in grabbing hold of a stack of books you’d been meaning to relocate, the pile of shame.
Perhaps it was your karma for naming it such, perhaps it was irony, but the pile of shame merely tumbled down along with you, spilling onto your head with a terrible series of audible smacking sounds to accompany your little cries of pain.
“Oh!” In Zhongli’s defense, he really had tried to catch you, but you supposed when you pushed away, you must have shoved him a bit farther back as well, and he was merely seconds too late from grabbing your arm to steady you.
You sat in your embarrassment, letting a loose book stay where it landed, covering your face.
“Are you alright?” Zhongli said, his voice filled with genuine concern.
“Can you pretend like the last five minutes never happened?” You said, cringing beneath the pages of an extremely outdated copy of Flowers in Food: recipes for your floral tastes.
“Unfortunately, my dear,” Zhongli began removing the book from your face, peeking down at your reddened cheeks beneath the pages. “I have the pleasure of having an impeccable memory.”
“I had a feeling you’d say something like that.” You grumbled.
You began peeling books off yourself, face warm as you wondered how you were going to get out of this one.
“You did not need to apologize, though.” Zhongli said, crouching down to help you. “I am more than comfortable sharing in your excitement at such an accomplishment.”
Your heart fluttered, and your face heated for entirely different reasons. Maybe it was okay that you’d hugged him? As much as you want to think he’s always teasing you, he has never once lied about how he’s felt about anything.
“Oh.” You said, peeling away the last couple books. “Well then, I’m sorry for pushing away so abruptly, and uh… that you had to see all that.”
He smiled, shaking his head as if he was going to tell you something more, when his eyes seemed to catch something along your torso.
You looked down, and under the last book you’d pulled off your stomach sat a little glowing orb, about the size of your palm.
Its warm amber light glowed against the fabric of your shirt, and you looked just as shocked at Zhongli for a moment.
But his face steadied, and he smiled down at you. “It seems that your perseverance has been recognized in the highest regard.”
You gapped down at the geo vision sitting on your stomach.
“I… what?”
—————————
AN: what did you think? Please let me know in the comments/tags/askbox! Also feel free to send in ideas for some dynamics you’d enjoy seeing between these two, as I have a vague idea of where the story will go, but its not entirely concrete yet!
- from Pidge, with love <3
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact Zhongli#Zhongli#Zhongli x reader#zhongli x gn reader#gn reader#Zhongli fluff#genshin impact fluff#rex lapis#morax#madame ping#🌻🐉
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
Make the Bond - Pt. 2
Summary: Unexpectedly, your life is flipped upside down when a waterlogged stranger washes ashore in your village. Hostile, nasty, and unable to speak the language, he makes for a headache of a combo. But something inside tells you not to give up on him, that he's capable of learning and change. But how are you supposed to trust this yellow-eyed stranger when you suspect there's more to him than he's letting on? Not to mention the rumors of a dangerous avatar on the loose....
A/N: ao3 ver.
Part Two of ?
Part One
Part Three
-
Chapter 2 - Like a Baby
The alien slept through the night. The crowd had dispersed sometime before daybreak, the novelty of a stranger wearing off, and by the time the sun broke across Polythemus, a young warrior had entered the tent to retrieve you. The Tsahik and Olo'eyktan had decided the stranger's fate, the warrior told you, and he would watch the alien while you were gone. One look at the young man and you had a feeling that, should the man wake and wreak havoc, there wasn't much the boy could do to stop him.
You left the Tsahik's tent, a nervous pit in your stomach. Whatever your father decided, you would abide by, but it didn't feel right to cast off the man into the unknown, to leave him in the brutal jungle to fight for himself. He was still so, so weak. That nasty gash on his back, the one that had coated your palms in coppery blood, would have to take several more moons to heal.
At your father's pod, the curtain guarded the entryway for privacy. You could see shadows cast on the walls from the fire, still as stone. You weren't sure if that boded well, but you pushed the flap open and ducked into the tent.
"Mama, Papa." You greeted, waving your hand off your forehead.
No indication that your father recognized your presence, which stung though not particularly underserved. Impassive, he stared hard into the flickering coals your mother must have used to divinate Eywa's will. Between them was an empty gap that served as your seat. It was positioned conveniently so that one parent sat on each side, prepared to swipe at you if you made any move of retreat. Not that you would try. Your mother watched you sit, almost as impassive as your father if not for the twitch of her brow. Of your parents, your father was the more stoic. He could calm the clan with a single wave, and direct his warriors with an incline of his head. His silent power commanded respect and soothed the masses. Now it pushed you further on edge. Why had neither your father nor your mother spoken? It had been hours that they had been talking, tucked away from the rest of the camp. Was this silence part of your punishment? It was better to pass their judgment now than to make you wait, fingers pinching the tops of your thighs to ground your anxious soul back to reality. The air was thick, choking you, stealing your breath from your lungs. The tips of your toes tingled with the reverberations of your heart against your ribcage, dull shocks that made your fingers tremble. Your mother watched your father, your father watching the fire. You looked from one to the other, the swish of your tail growing more insistent. Finally, he looks up. His expression is drawn and tight.
Olo'eyktan exhaled heavily, words of reckoning hovering in the air like a bow drawn taught.
"My daughter. It seems you have caused quite a stir once again."
You smiled weakly at him. "Never on purpose, Papa. I do not wish to bring trouble to the clan. It seems to find me nevertheless."
Your father stifled a huff that you could have mistaken for a laugh, patting your knee. It was an uncommon sign of affection from him, perhaps even an extended olive branch. You were rarely close like this. As Olo'eyktan, your father's duties were to the village first which meant you had to occupy yourself. Many days had passed where you had explored the corals yourself as a young Metkayina warrior while your father tutored the young sons of councilmen and grandchildren of elders. But at this moment, you felt connected, father and daughter rather than Olo'eyktan and clan member. The tension melted from your body.
"Such troubles make you strong, daughter. And it is this strength that you must rely on in the future. Tsahik and I have spoken." Your father tilted his head to your mother. "Eywa has brought this stranger to us for a reason. Our fates are intertwined and so we will allow him to stay,"
The relief was instantaneous, pulses of waves washing over you. You had not expected this decision. The anger of your mother had been mighty when she stormed from Tsahik's tent. It had crackled and filled the room like lightning, electrifying you and the room. So mighty, in fact, that you would have assumed the stranger's future was exile or death. You knew your father considered the dangers that could come to the village if the man stayed and he had allowed his residence anyway. You wondered what signs Eywa had given your mother to help her see beyond her fury.
"Papa," you said weakly, clasping your hand around his forearm. He held up a hand, stopping you.
"If he is to stay, he must support the village. We will not expend resources on a layabout. You will teach him to hunt, fish, and swim like us. His actions and words will be your own, and you will be held accountable for his transgressions. He does not speak our language. You must teach him this, too."
Some of your excitement flickered. Teaching the avatar from nothing was a monumental task. You weren't sure if the stranger even wanted to learn or if he'd make a break for it once his ailments had healed. But your mother had interpreted a divine message, and it was not your place to deny the will of Eywa, the Tsahik, or Olo'eyktan. With a shaky breath, you accepted the conditions. You could teach the foreigner, show him the beauty and secrets of your home, and hope that he was receptive to it and that he kept his head down and followed your instruction.
Almost as if he could sense your thoughts noise erupted across the pods from the stranger's tent. Caterwauling split the air as bodies rushed past Olo'eyktan's tent. Your father leaped into action immediately, with you close behind. Eywa, you thought. He couldn't make things easy for me, could he?
You crossed the walkways faster than you thought possible, weaving through startled children chattering elders. Figures flashed across the tent wall, darkening as they neared the tent wall and then thump. The figures tumbled into the wall sending surrounding clanfolk off balance as the walkway reverberated. The flap of the tent fluttered and you used the opportunity to duck inside, nearly missing a blow that would have landed square in your shoulder. F
Four Metkayina warriors were trying to wrangle the stranger to the ground, screeching like banshees. Two were posted at each arm, attempting to press his jerking shoulders to the floor, while two more were trying to lash his legs together with a leather tie. The man was hissing - no - snarling. His canines flashed against the light of the hot coals, and his pupils dilated into vicious slits. Beneath taught skin, powerful back muscles rippled. He looked feral, wild, a cornered predator.
"Let him go!" You urged the warriors, pulling hard at one of the warriors. The man barely moved, diving into the fray.
A shadow fell across the doorway, and five heads turned to look at your father. He didn't say anything, didn't need to say anything, and a flick of his fingers sent the four warriors off the snarling stranger, melting into the shadows in the corner. Your alien immediately crouched into a defensive position once he was released, muscles coiled with lethality. His golden eyes shifted between the warriors in the corner to your father, hesitating on you before going back to the warriors. They were like beacons, changing color in the sunlight that trickled past your father's form.
"Leave us." your father directed.
The four warriors shuffled out of the tent and the man watched them leave like a predator. The tip of his tail ticked, ears inclining towards the edges of the tent, where whispers had erupted at the warriors' departure. Your heart hammered against your ribs, singing from the adrenaline. You pressed a hand to the flat of your stomach to catch your breath. Though the situation was cooling down, you still felt flushed and shaky, your body in the throes of fight or flight. You'd had this man as your ward for less than a minute before chaos had erupted. If he wreaked this much havoc in the minutes he was awake, what would it be like to train him, to teach him?
The flap to the tent fell closed and darkness engulfed the room again as your father crossed the tent's threshold. The only light came from the coals slowly dying in the center of the pod, reflecting off of the stranger. The sweat on his skin gave him an ethereal glow, like an angel of death and fire. He looked even more dangerous now. He had no weapons and had to be hindered by his wounds, but the tension between the three of you was palpable. You knew better than to underestimate him.
"Sit, daughter," Your father commanded, pressing you to the ground with a hand on your shoulder. How he could remain this calm, this controlled, was beyond you. Seasons of being a leader had hardened him, but your father faced a threat he had never encountered before. Did he not feel the same bile of anxiety rising in your throat? Did his folded hands not carry the tremor that yours did?
The stranger was crouching, preparing to strike - no. You took a shaky inhale. No, he was only mirroring you, folding his knees beneath him. Your father's placating manner had eased the tension in the air, and somehow communicated the intention the two of you had in being here. You lifted your eyes from the man's figure to his face, your breath hitching. His eyes were on you, watching you. Your heart throbbed in your chest, an unfamiliar rhythm. Eywa, you couldn't decode the look in his hooded eyes but it felt foreignly delightful all the same, like bloodlust but warmer. It also frightened you, having to channel such passion. It was impossible, you decided, to teach him anything. This man was not built for teaching but for bloodlust, for ripping out his enemy's heart and holding it in his fist.
Your father's voice startled you out of your thoughts and brought you away from the trance of the avatar's eyes.
"If you are to stay here, you cannot cause harm to the village folk. They have opened their hearts and homes to you. You disrespect them."
Those slitted yellow hues turned to Olo'eyktan. His ears flicked, signaling that he had heard, but did not speak.
"You may not understand me now, but in time you will. My daughter will show you our way. We will welcome you here as long as you follow the rules of our clan," Your father smoothed a hand over your hair. "Do not fear, my daughter. He will not harm you. You are beneath Eywa's guidance. Our fates intertwine. I must leave now, or the people will grow restless with questions." Your father slowly rose to his feet, making his way to the tent entrance.
"You are leaving me here? Alone?" You hissed indignantly, a spike of panic shooting through you. "Father, it took four warriors to restrain this man. I could not possibly-"
"He carries no malice in his heart, only fear, as you do. If he had such a desire to kill you, I'm sure he would have done so already." Your father inclined his head, smiling softly at you. "Strong heart, daughter."
He smiled at you last time, eyes turning to the stranger one last time before he rose to his feet, straightened the holster on his thigh, and left. The flap rippled behind him, the last vestige of his presence.
And now you were alone. With someone you were sure was ready to pounce on you. Though the idea couldn't be farther from what you wanted to do, you knew you had to turn and face him, introduce yourself or establish some kind of trust. You tried to steady your racing heart, and fix an expression of pleasantness across your face. You attempted to command the energy of the room as your father had, but it was too impossible, too difficult, and this entire situation was too -
A thump shook the tent, rattling the pots and dried herbs that hung on its walls. Prepared to fight off an assailant, you whipped around and found the stranger spread across the floor, one elbow bracing him. His fingers grappled with the smooth surface of the tent floor, clutching at the stretched skin in agony. He was flushed and glistening with sweat, markedly paler than he had been just minutes earlier, his breath rushing from his mouth in hot pants. At first, you weren't sure what was wrong. He'd been fine moments ago, ready to burn the village under his wrath. Now he was sickly, just as frail as when you had pulled him from the ocean waters. You rushed to the man's side, pressing cool fingers to his brow that had become flushed and blisteringly hot with fever. A groan erupted from low in his throat, ears pressing flat against his skull. Then you noticed the blood seeping through the coral weed your mother had applied to the wounds on his back, which meant the salt flower, which should have crystalized the slash and prevented infection and further bleeding, had ripped open in the struggle with the warriors. Smears of blood were on the floor where the man had wrestled back.
You tried to calm yourself, and focus on what you could do to fix this situation as best you could. You weren't good with injuries at the best of times, preferring your time out in the water exploring the plants and animals that were still alive. First, replace the bandaging and crystalize the wound. There was still salt flower and coral weed left over from the previous night, tucked neatly into the corner beside the used bowl of paya juice and you grabbed as much of it as possible, snatching the pail of fresh water that your mother had used to wash away the blood before, too. Slowly peeling away the wrappings on his back, the sight of the wound made your stomach roll. Your clan didn't see battle wounds often. The extent of the Tsahik's patients were children that had caught a cold and needed verbal root for their cough, fishermen that had knicked themselves with their hooks, or older children who had wrestled without knowing their own strength. The wound, you thought, was completely out of your skill set. It was bruised purple around the seams, dark with wet blood.
The man spat and hissed as you poured cold water across his back, cursing, you assumed, in his native language. You tried to brace him for when you applied the salt flower, smoothing your fingers over his shaking shoulders and whispering soothing words. You wondered if he would need thread through the gore, which neither you nor your mother had done before. Na'vi healed quickly, with a naturally strong immune system from the fats and vitamins in the sea life and fruit consumed. Even still...
"I need to treat it. It will only be a moment of pain," You stuttered, trying your best to soothe him when you could hardly help yourself.
The man said something you couldn't understand, curling his hands into fists. Something twitched against the corner of your ankle and you looked down between your legs. A dark blue tail brushed your foot, slowly curling around your ankle. You didn't know if the alien knew his body was betraying him like this, seeking subconscious comfort, but you turned back to your work anyway.
You tried to apply the flower gently, but there was no way to minimize the pain of an antiseptic. The man cried out, shuttered, struggled, but he was still weak and his strength was divided. Minutes slid by painfully, the petals tossed to the side in favor of the coral weed bandage. Eventually, the man fell into unconsciousness. Treating his lacerations became much easier after that and you fell into a rhythm as you applied the salt, lathering the thick white paste along the diagonal gashes. Your touch was gentle as you wrapped the wound in clean coral weed, stashing the dirty bundle away to be washed and treated later.
You tended to him then for the next few hours, swiping a cold cloth across his forehead to cool his fever, and dripping pulp into his mouth to keep his energy. He was still as he slept, almost unnaturally so like he had been trained to take up as little space and make as little noise as possible.
You couldn't help but admire him as he lay there. Though the stranger was alien, he was still handsome in a way you were not used to. His face was the most relaxed it had been since he had first washed up in the sand, strong jaw and hollowed cheeks, lips that parted with warm breath. Broad shoulders led to a tapered waist hidden behind odd, rough bottoms and a rope that didn't look quite like leather tied around his hips. He was strong, muscle built with intention rather than a product of his work. Long fingers tapered into thick knuckles, bruised from slamming into the Metkayina warriors' mouths. He was starkly different from the boys you were raised with, built and trained, you assumed, to be lethal, a killer. Now he looked like a sleeping child, an air of innocence behind his lax expression. You brushed your fingers just in front of his mouth, feeling the puffs of air. He was cozy against the floor, sleeping soundly from his exhaustion.
Your eyes began to droop and you abruptly snapped them open. It had been almost 24 hours since you'd last slept, not to mention the crest and fall of your adrenaline and the fishing you'd done all day prior. Sleep sounded good, pleasant, but you couldn't sleep because you had to watch him, was assigned to do so...
You sat up quickly. The tent was black, the coals of the fire long dead, and the only light you had to go by was the bioluminescent plant light that seeped beneath the tent flap. Rubbing your eyes, you pushed yourself onto your elbows and waited for your vision to adjust to the lack of light. What time was it? Had you fallen asleep? Your head felt thick, thoughts coming too slowly to your brain. Something felt off about the darkness in the tent, but you couldn't place what it was. You didn't often sleep in the Tsahik's tent. That wasn't the issue, though. What was it?
Something brushed against your leg, whisper soft, from your right. It curled around your calf, tickling the heel of your foot. Your head turned, searching the pools of shadow until -
A pair of glowing eyes stared at you from the black. Yellow eyes.
"O-oh," You squeaked, coiling in on yourself. "Y-you're awake."
The eyes blinked at you, a constellation of glowing blue stars trailing between them, down a broad neck, shoulders, and chest.
"Are you...hungry? Thirsty? How do you feel?"
Silence. Ugh. How were you supposed to communicate with this guy if he didn't speak a lick of -
"Food."
Your ears pricked up.
"Food?"
"Food."
So he spoke some Na'vi.
You searched blindly through the dark for fruits that were left earlier that day. You sliced them open, chopping them into bits and serving them to him in the same wooden bowl you'd fed him the pulp while he lay unconscious. He took it, devouring the meat of it within seconds like a ravenous animal. Okay then. You went on like this for a bit, chopping fruits, serving them to him, and eventually passing the entire fruit, which easily split open in his hands.
You watched him eat, curiosity building. He didn't seem so threatening in the dark now, with lidden eyes and juices dripping from his chin. He ate so intently, filling his belly. He smelled sweet, like the fruit, but the sterile clinical smell that had you wrinkling your nose when you'd first met him had faded, too. He smelled of the earth now, salty and windblown, with a tang of iron.
"What's your name?" You asked abruptly, feeling a bit bashful when those eyes turned onto you. You hoped he understood. If you couldn't even get a name from him, you weren't sure how you could communicate.
"Name?" You asked again, pointing to yourself and telling him yours.
He stared at you, eyes following your lips as they usually did when he tried to understand what you were saying. His own mouth moved as he repeated your question, sounding out the curves and ridges of the words. Then he straightened, clearing his rough through.
"Quaritch."
"Cor...ish..."
"Quaritch." He growled.
"Ah, sorry! Quaritch."
You smiled at him. "I like it. Quaritch. Nice to meet you."
For the first time, he smiled.
-
Tag List:
@capitanostella @kacchasu @nin3kyuu @perseny @onehalfshrimp @blossom618
#avatar#quaritch fanfic#miles quaritch#quaritch imagine#quaritch x reader#quaritch imagines#jake sully#avatar way of water#enemies to lovers#strangers to lovers#avatar imagines
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Tattooist and the Artist: the love that fell eternally
Part V
Jason Todd (middle) x Male! Reader
The whole day was planned out perfectly, no loopholes or interruptions.
Though, to say Jason was terrified would be a lie, he hadn’t even been able to focus on his work today, at least not to his max level he usually does.
‘All right, that’s all done, just gonna wrap this up’ Jason said as he finished up the tattoo he was doing.
The client seemed was really pleased with the result, seeming eager to get it healed and show it off.
‘I’ll just take you over the aftercare’ Jason smiled, bringing over a pack on info about it for his client.
Something he did regular for when a client had their first tattoo done, Jason always liked to work on peoples body, but felt more so honoured when they came to him for their first.
The drive home after the day was a good one as Jason had only his thoughts, remembering the first time he tattooed you.
‘I just want something simple, something that won’t hurt too much’ you smiled as you held up a design.
As an artist yourself, you had the advantage of picking out what you wanted correctly, as you could create it yourself.
Once it was done, you smiled when you’d see it, as it reminded you of you and Jason. Then the second piece, then a few more after.
You’d never trust anyone enough to mark your body, but then Jason does it in other ways, and does it so well.
‘I was thinking Star B’s first and then maybe a walk around, we got dinner reservations at 6.30, so we got plenty of time’ Jason beamed in the sun, holding your hand as the two of you walked down the street.
Intertwined fingers as you swung your arm slightly while Jason’s touch made you feel warm, you hadn’t thought about relationships before, but then you and Jason had been together for so long now that it made you realise you were waiting. Waiting for him.
You grabbed a seat with your coffee while you waited for Jason to come over, as his drink wasn’t ready yet.
‘Latte for Jason’ the female barista called out, smiling as Jason smiled back and took it.
She was a pretty girl roughly about 21/22 with brown hair and eyes, Jason saw on his cup that there was a different name and a phone number.
‘Erm, sorry there’s someone else’s name on here, with a phone number?’ Jason spoke to the barista, who laughed as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.
‘It’s my name and number, I finish work in about 20’
Jason didn’t want to laugh in her face but was a little surprised and flattered, he looked her in the eyes.
‘I’m really honoured sweetheart, but I’m with my boyfriend’ Jason said, watching as the baristas face dropped.
Jason went over and sat at the table with you, chuckling to himself a little.
‘What’s so funny?’ You asked, sipping your coffee.
‘Barista hit on me’ Jason said as he took his first sip, you shot an eyebrow up.
‘Really? She cute? You should take her out’ you laughed, Jason taking your hand.
Jason felt a rush every time he touched you, and vice versa, he loved the feel of your skin. Soft, warm, loving.
It also always made Jason hard on the spot no matter where he was, or what he was doing.
You knew this as you would always smile devilishly at the fact that Jason had to try and cover himself up.
Jason drove the two of you to the next big spot where he took you to dinner, it was a simple restaurant with a nice aesthetic for romance, but not overdone.
Jason hadn’t let go of your hand the whole drive, the walk from the car, holding the entrance door open for you.
‘The waiters cute’ Jason joked, trying to distract himself from his thoughts drifting off.
You’d noticed by this point that Jason was a wreak, powering down his drink. Seeming nervous. Kept checking his jacket pockets.
After dinner, Jason held your hand as you both went on a walk over a pier as the moonlight hit the water.
‘Oh look, fireworks’ you pointed as you stopped to watch them.
Jason took a deep breath as he looked at your face, lit up by the combination of the moon and the fireworks going off.
‘Y/n?’ Jason caught your attention, you looked at him, with a small smile.
‘Yeah?’
‘I love you so much, so much it hurts, I can’t picture my life without you, and I don’t want to call you my boyfriend anymore’ Jason began, pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket as he got down on one knee.
You gasped with wide eyes as you watched your boyfriend drop down, not knowing what to do.
‘Y/n, will you marry me?’ Jason asked you, opening the box that showed two rings inside.
Black bands with diamonds going round the middle, you had tears in your eyes.
‘Oh my, Jason, yes’ you almost whispered as Jason pulled the smaller ring out and placed it on your finger.
Jason stood up and grabbed your face kissing you, the deepest he’s ever kissed you. Smiling into the kiss.
The kiss was made even more special by the fireworks that were let off simultaneously, it was magical. And Jason was so happy it had all come together.
‘I love you’ you said as you pulled away from the kiss, looking into Jason’s eyes.
‘I love you too’ Jason smiled, kissing you again.
You took the larger ring out of the box and placed it on Jason’s finger, something you just decided on the spot.
‘My husband’ Jason thought out loud, you smiled brightly as you kissed Jason again.
‘Y/n Todd sounds good’ you laughed as Jason sipped you down.
The drive home was a hard one as all you wanted to do was get into bed with your fiancé, growing more and more impatient with every red light and stop sign.
Finally, you made it back home safely with your man, who had his hands all over you. The second you two got into the apartment, Jason sink his teeth into your neck.
You moaned out as you pressed your butt into Jason’s groin, a groin that was aching for you. Jason took your jacket off, letting it fall on the floor.
You turned around as you kissed Jason, hungry for his skin, his touch.
You began unbuttoning Jason’s shirt before he’d even taken his jacket off, making Jason laugh.
‘Easy baby, we got all night’ Jason soothed as he pushed you against the wall.
Before you knew it all of yours and Jason’s clothes had come off, scattered all over the apartment. Sounds filled every room, every corner.
There wasn’t a part of Jason’s body you hadn’t kissed, there wasn’t a part of your body Jason hadn’t kissed. Jason made sure to leave hickeys all over your body, most on show for men to know you were his.
You lay on your back with your legs spread apart, Jason deep inside you with his one hand on the headboard and the other on your waist.
‘Oh Jason, feels so good’ you called out, making sure to be vocal, as Jason liked it.
He liked to know he was making his man feel good, and not just in the bedroom. But everywhere.
Jason flipped you over onto your front as he buried his length into you again, you were nearly in tears from how good it felt, how in love you are.
Jason slammed into you as he found good balance while on his knees, you sunk your teeth into the pillow. Stopping yourself from screaming too loud.
‘Oh God baby, I’m not gonna last much longer’ Jason growled.
You got up on your knees too, resting your head on Jason’s shoulder as he reached down to jerk you, you were already close. Jason just wanted to make sure he finished you off, also making sure you got off first.
‘Shit, I’m coming, so close please don’t stop’ you whimpered as Jason smiled in satisfaction as he watched you spill everywhere.
Jason rested his hands on your shoulder as he pushed you back down, running his hands down your back, holding your waist.
‘Fuck’ Jason roared as he slammed hard into you, you felt as his seed spilled inside you.
Jason leant down as he kissed your back, falling into the mattress with you in his arms. Both of you struggling to catch your breaths.
‘That was amazing, can we go again?’ Jason asked, panting as the sweat dripped down his face.
‘Save some of that stamina for the wedding night’ you laughed as you rolled over, kissing Jason.
You both fell asleep holding onto each other, while not putting your clothes back on. You just stayed the way you were.
Jason’s lips buried into your hair as you held onto his strong arms, feeling safe where you were. Both feeling like you could stay there forever.
#red hood#gotham#red hood fanfiction#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd#red hood x y/n#red hood x male reader#jason todd x male reader
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 08
series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.
series masterlist | previous chapter
Part Eight: shame, hot buttered rum, and a rude awakening
series rating: 16+
series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.
series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)
summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.
chapter details beneath the cut ->
wc: 13.0k
extra chapter warnings: bondage but not the sexy kind.
chapter summary:
“Mysterious black-clad army seizing the castle. Killing the king, hunting their princess,” Yeosang says, lifting a hand to place his chin in his palm. “It’s all very fantastical, don’t you think? Like something out of a storybook. Strange to be living it.”
You almost laugh at how very true that is.
a/n: been feeling a lil nervous to post bc of the large influx of readers since the last update. i’m very grateful to have you all here, but it’s definitely made me a little worried about my writing, so i hope it doesn’t show too much in this chapter. enjoy <3
When you awaken it's to light blonde hair tickling your nose. Groggily opening your eyes, the sunlight blares through the open tent flap and down onto your unwilling face, causing you to let out a groan of annoyance. Rolling over to face away from the inconsiderate sun-beam, you're met with a sleepy murmur of protest.
Seonghwa pulls you in a little closer. The man’s grip around your torso tightens as he buries his face into your collarbone, letting out an exhale that feels cool against your clammy skin. He’s still fast asleep, breathing melodically, and you can’t help the smile that grazes over your lips.
It’s been like this ever since the mimic, at least on the nights you’ve managed to sleep at all. Even then, you’ve tried to slip out after he falls asleep and return before he wakes up.
Seonghwa has tried to pretend the entire ordeal with the mimic didn’t affect him, but you all know the truth in that it did, and deeply at that. Woo had found him beneath the floorboards of the stable, in a dug-out hole where he’d been tied up and gagged, eye black and head bleeding from where the mimic had hit him over the head with a plank.
He was there with Aisha - the real Aisha, as it turned out the one you’d talked to and had attempted to lend you her home for the night had also been a mimic’s charade. She’d been down there for weeks.
As for the rest of her family… Well, there was a reason the stable smelled so terrible, like mule shit but somehow worse. After all, the smell of death is far worse, especially when the bodies have been rotting for almost a month.
Seonghwa had only been down there for a couple hours, but that was enough for fear to creep in. With the smell of corpses hanging in the air, Aisha endlessly sobbing next to him, and the knowledge that his mimic counterpart was wreaking havoc amongst the people he cares about most, it was enough to leave more than a minor impact.
Fortunately, it appears he sleeps better having someone to hold onto.
Looking down at him, you run a hand gently through his hair, bright blonde locks moving between your fingers. It must feel nice, as he mindlessly smiles against you, lips curving upwards against your skin.
You know it’s a dangerous line you’re walking here, as the inevitability of your betrayal quickly approaches. This is especially true considering your decision to leave them once they’ve guided you through the Burovian mountains, in hopes that Minho’s prophecy will never come to pass. You’ll find a way to repay them later, but you have to ensure your survival first.
And yet, you can’t bring yourself to push him away. It’s mostly due to the fact he needs the support, the closeness clearly having eased and soothed his mind. However, there also remains what you don’t want to admit is a hint of selfishness.
The self-centered fact that you enjoy being like this, not only due to the warmth provided with such intimate closeness, but rather because it’s with him.
You think that in another lifetime, in another world, you could let yourself fall for him.
When his eyelids flutter open, Seonghwa’s eyes are coated in a sleepy haze, and he blinks a few times as if to remember his surroundings.
“Hey,” you whisper, voice light, and he lets out a groan of annoyance, although his teeth glint in a toothy grin. Rolling you over, he throws an arm over your torso, pressing your back into his chest.
“Hey yourself,” he murmurs into your shoulder, voice raspy. “Let me sleep more.”
“The sun’s high, it’s probably almost noon,” you reply, shaking your head, although you make no move to get up. “I’m supposed to have sword-training with San.”
“I’m sure he’ll survive your absence just this once,” Seonghwa says, fingers grazing softly along the bare skin of your abdomen. “If he’s mad then he can duel me, I’ll get my ass-kicked in your place.”
Playfully shoving his hand away, you turn yourself back over to face him. “Yes, that’s the way to convince me to stay, make fun of me.”
“Are you saying I need to convince you some other way?” Seonghwa offers, hand suddenly trailing its way down past your abdomen. He raises an eyebrow, and you match the expression.
When he leans in, the kiss is firm. Not sweet and delicate in the sleepy-morning fashion, but more passionate than that. It begs a question, asks for permission.
You suppose if you’re already being selfish, a little more couldn’t hurt.
Pulling your lips from his, you can’t help but grin. “Alright,” you sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder, pressing him into you. “I guess I can be a little late just this once. Maybe San won’t notice.”
“You’re late,” San says, leaning against a tree with both arms crossed as you sprint down the forest trail, running as fast as you can while dragging your sword with you. Pulling up the sleeve of your jacket as it slips down from your shoulder, you do your best to appear put-together, although you're certain you look as if you just rolled out of bed, which isn’t so far from the truth.
“Sorry,” you say, leaning over to place both hands on your knees as you catch your breath. “I overslept.”
San does not look impressed, although the corner of his lip quirks upwards in amusement. “Right,” he says plainly, removing his shoulder from the tree. “Shall we start?”
No wasting time badgering or teasing you, just right down to business. You like that about him.
He gives you a smile as you shrug the jacket from your shoulders, stretching your arms out in front of you and cracking your knuckles to quickly warm-up. You return the expression, although neither of you speak.
There’s been a bit of a rift between the two of you since the mimic, or more specifically since he comforted you afterwards. Not exactly a negative rift, as neither of you are upset with the other, nor is it overly awkward as the two of you continue to spend time training alone.
It’s more as if a can of worms has been opened. He’s comforted you, cradled you, ran his fingers over your hair and whispered that everything would be alright. Meanwhile, you sobbed into chest, clenched onto his tunic, and made him stay that way for almost an hour.
It was incredibly vulnerable on your end, as well as unbelievably empathetic on his. Either way, it was intimate, and it hangs in the air every time the two of you are alone together. Neither of you have talked about it, and you aren’t sure if you even need to, but it’s there. Undoubtedly.
“Okay,” he says, picking up his sword from where it had been discarded on the ground. Rotating it around in his hand, he eventually extends the tip of the blade out towards you, cocking his head to the side. “Your move.”
And so the two of you spar.
You’ve vastly improved over the last few days. Somehow it seems the trials of the desert invigorated you rather than stunted your progress. A little time away from the sword seemed to be exactly what you needed to grow a longing for it, and over the last couple days the two of you have dueled every afternoon.
When you move it’s no longer awkward, the sword feeling more at home in your hands. San says you have quite the natural knack for it, although you’re just glad you can spar with him for more than a few seconds before being knocked over. You’re only up to a couple minutes, but any progress is progress.
Besides, San is good. You still haven’t seen him go full out, but Seonghwa has mentioned his astounding ability enough times that you can mostly imagine it. Even after the recent stab-wound to his shoulder, he moves with an unbridled swiftness, as if the sword is merely an extension of his arm. His casual ease causes something to stir within your chest. Envy, mixed with adoration.
San takes a particularly sudden strike towards the hilt of your blade, catching you off guard. He’s incredible at keeping on your toes, at not allowing you to get too comfortable. Every time you think you have him figured out, he changes tactics. He is a difficult teacher, but that is what makes him a good one.
The strike knocks you off balance, but you do not let yourself lose your footing entirely. Bringing up the sword to block another impending blow, your feet slide backwards into the dirt as he swings once more. Making sure to keep quick on your toes, you take another step back, and the pattern continues.
Moving away from the clearing, the two of you make your way down the forest path, San striking blow after blow as you do your best to block them. Each and every swing has power, and it takes everything in you not to falter, feeling as sweat begins to bead and trail down your forehead.
Breathing becomes ragged as you just barely defend yourself from his next swing, it’s becoming increasingly apparent that you won’t be able to keep this up much longer. You’ll need to change tactics, before you face yet another quick defeat at his hands.
Bringing your focus to his stature, you manage a rushed scan from head to toe, searching for any sort of weakness. Fortunately, you’re not rendered hopeless, as it’s almost immediately obvious how he does not properly defend his own balance. It’s one of the most recent things San taught you.
“The key to winning a duel lies within the defence,” San had said yesterday morning, extending a hand out to help you back on your feet, having just knocked you over. You scowled up at him, irritated, but he knew that you hung on every word, eager to get better.
“The one who wins is the one left standing, not who delivers the most damage. Protect and withhold your balance, then seize your opportunity as it presents itself. It’s that simple.”
However, San continues to strike blow after blow. While he’s practically drilling you into the ground, a clear test of your will and endurance, it’s left the balance in his footing shoddy.
He’s gotten cocky, you realize. He assumes you won’t notice, and you aren’t sure if you’re annoyed with him for doubting you, or proud of yourself for proving him wrong. Likely both.
It’s not until after his next strike that you seize your opportunity. When his own sword comes down onto yours, you almost cushion the blow, letting him knock your own weapon towards the ground. It doesn’t matter, you won’t be striking him with it, and he won’t have the opportunity to try again.
Letting the momentum of his strike knock you downwards, you crouch further onto your knees, although doing your best to keep your ankles stable and upright. His balance is a little off, not near enough to fall over, but he clearly hadn’t expected you to suddenly drop. Capitalizing on the miscalculation, you swing a leg out towards him in a sweeping motion. It’s a bit awkward, as well as stunted considering you’ve never tried the maneuver before, but it’s just sloppy enough to work.
Your own foot takes out both of San’s own, and he lets out a small grunt of surprise as he topples over, a tad panicked as he tosses his sword out beside him. You don’t understand why he wouldn’t at least try to hold onto it, but it becomes apparent the second you realize where exactly San is falling.
That is to say, directly on top of you.
Chest pressing against your own, your back sinks into the dirt as he falls down onto you, knocking the wind from your lungs. He manages to catch himself on his elbows before your heads collide, but the result is his face hovering just above yours.
His chest heaves up and down, attempting to catch his breath, and for a moment neither of you say anything.
Because his lips are less than an inch from your own.
You can smell his breath, the strong scent of rich coffee beans, a blend he’d purchased back in Stockholm. It’s hot against your lips, and you become increasingly aware of the way his waist is pressed firm against yours. His cheeks are flushed, mouth parted open as he breathes. Sweat glistens on his skin, a testament to the effort required in your sparring.
It causes something inside of you to stir, a strange pull within your chest, what you’d almost describe as longing.
Startled by the feeling, you finally manage to pull your gaze up from his lips, only to find that he is doing the same. When his good eye meets yours, he freezes, as if exposed. You swallow hard.
Then he shoves himself off of you.
Rolling over and quickly jumping to his feet, he doesn’t go to grab his sword but rather walks a solid few strides away, running a hand through his hair as he almost makes a point of not facing you.
“That was good!” He blurts out, and his voice is raspy, almost choked. “That was really good. You caught me off guard, I didn’t expect that.”
You don’t respond immediately, because frankly, you have no idea what to say. You can hardly wrap your head around what just happened. San, being so close. His lips being so close, but more so the fact that for a moment, you didn’t wish them to be further away.
“Thanks,” you manage, and this time it’s your voice that’s weak.
Another long moment passes where neither of you say anything. He still doesn’t look at you, although he does go and grab his sword, shoving it back in its sheath.
“That’s enough for today,” he says quickly. The two of you would typically continue for at least another hour, but you don’t even bother protesting. You’re well aware of why he’s ending this early, and you agree with the sentiment.
“Alright,” you reply, and San does not waste a minute before taking off back down the forest trail and towards your campsite. Where the rest of your group is. Where Woo is.
“Right,” you think, flopping back into the dirt, looking upwards to the cloudy grey sky. You can hear the first rumble of thunder in the distance, an indication of a coming storm. You didn’t think it would rain today. “Fuck.”
San does not go back to the campsite. Instead he jogs until you are officially out of sight, before turning into the forest and pressing his back against a tree. He attempts to catch his breath, although his lungs do not seem to cooperate, each new gulp of air as unsatisfying as the last.
Leaning his head against the coolness of the bark, he slides down until he’s sitting on the ground, knees drawn up in front of him.
“What the hell just happened?” He thinks to himself, bringing both of his hands to his temples, attempting to rub away the newfound headache that has plagued him. “And what the fuck is wrong with you?”
San thought he was doing rather well to ignore the weird tension that hung in the air between the two of you since the sand village. Since he comforted you, since he held you in his arms and you clung to him just as tightly.
He knew immediately that it made something inside of him rouse. While he didn’t understand it at first, over the last couple days he thinks he knows why it made him feel so strange, an odd sort of sensation that has settled in his chest.
In that moment, you not only wanted him, but you needed him. It’s been a long time since San has felt like he’s been needed.
Instead, he’s the one who’s been in need of someone a lot lately. Woo after Gloria, you during your time at The Desert Lotus, and Seonghwa afterwards. Even before then, before they ever met you and this journey to Kuroku began, he rarely felt like someone to confide in. Woo doesn’t seem to need nor seek much comfort from him beyond the physical, and Seonghwa has always been the one to grant empathy rather than seek it.
But you let him comfort you. You let him hold you and whisper that it would be alright, in fact you sought after it. He’d be a fool to lie and say it didn’t give him a taste of the intimacy he’s been craving.
But that was supposed to be it. He was supposed to leave behind that moment the second the two of you left Aisha’s house, and move forward. No sense in longing for things he cannot have, nor seeking them out in someone he does not truly love, nor loves him in return. He is not such a fool.
Until just now. Until he was on top of you, could taste your breath on his tongue and feel you beneath him. Your eyes looking up at him, chest heaving, mouth parted open expectantly.
Not love, but for a moment there was lust. Horrible, but undeniable lust.
The way your gaze held his lips, he knows you felt it too.
But you smelt of Seonghwa, such a sobering way to bring him back to reality. You do not belong in his mind, he has no right to even indulge in an unwanted moment of weakness. For the love of the gods, you’d just been with Seonghwa that morning! How would Seonghwa feel, if he knew what San was thinking right now?
Seonghwa, who he yearns for even more greatly, with not just lust but also true affection. Love, although he fears calling it that. He already has his head full of one person that does not belong there, he has no room for another.
Then there’s the other issue. Him.
The reality of if Woo was watching, what would he think? San doesn’t even have to ponder the question, he’s well aware of the answer. He knows he shouldn’t, as he owes Woo nothing - the elemental the one who refuses to commit to him, not the other way around - but all he feels is shame.
San runs his hands through his hair, trying to swallow down the bile that floods his tongue, although his throat feels far too tight.
What is wrong with him? His self-control used to be something he prided himself on, so when did he become so weak?
He sucks in another tight breath, rubbing his face in his hands. When he pulls them away, he decides he’s done with this.
There’s nothing wrong with him, because nothing happened. He doesn’t need to complicate this. You will be gone within a week’s time, and there’s no sense in granting these emotions - if you can even call them that - the light of day.
Rising to his feet, he turns back towards the campsite before his mind can convince him otherwise.
He tells himself it doesn’t matter, and he does not permit himself the opportunity to question whether or not that is true.
“I thought you said there was a inn around here!” Woo calls, forced to shout over the sound of the pounding rain surrounding you. He holds a small tarp over both his and San’s head, looking over his shoulder at Seonghwa, expression drawn into a scowl.
The empath sits in front of you, doing his best to control the reins of the horse as the animal whinnies in protest, equally as unimpressed with the downfall. You also hold a tarp above the two of you, although considering he’s a good deal taller than you it doesn’t work nearly as well, rain pouring down from its sides onto your already drenched tunic.
The thunder had transformed into a raging storm almost immediately, soaking your tents and causing the four of you to pack up your campsite in a whirlwind of panic. Desperate to avoid hypothermia from sleeping under soaping wet blankets, you managed to be on the horses and moving before anything got too damaged.
Only to be riding against the storm for almost an hour, miserably searching for an inn Seonghwa remembers visiting years ago after having left Maralya.
“There is!” Seonghwa shouts back, before muttering beneath his breath so that only you can hear. “...Somewhere.”
Your stomach drops. Your arms shake as you hold the tarp over your head, both from soreness as well as the bitter cold. The wind bites sharply against your wet skin, the chill settling within your bones. Teeth involuntarily chattering, the ends of your ears and nose are entirely numb. Although, you almost consider the numbness a blessing, as at least they don’t feel cold anymore.
You agree with Woo’s sentiment. You seriously need to find this inn, so lest you are forced to down Minho’s elixir that resides in your pocket in hopes that it allows you to somehow survive this endless, monstrous chill.
As if sensing both your cynicism and desperation, the god’s answer your fears in the form of a warm light that glows from further down the trail.
“Oh thank the gods,” Seonghwa breathes, before shouting upwards to Woo and San. “It’s just up ahead!”
The inn you approach is small, only big enough for what you assume is a handful of rooms for the few travelers making their way through the Burovian mountain pass. A quaint little brick building that’s warm light pours from its front windows, the sign simply reads: “Mountain Inn”.
Arriving in front of its doorstep, you untie your bags from the horses in a relentless hurry, throwing two satchels over your shoulder as Woo quickly grabs the reins of each of the horses. He leads them towards the stable stationed at the side of the inn, as you, San, and Seonghwa sprint through the open doorway.
Entering the inn is like being transported into a different climate, nearly a different world. The air is thick and warm, the fire from the furnace in the corner providing the place with a cozy feel. The front desk also doubles as a bar of sorts, tables scattered around the room.
It’s busier than you expected, multiple groups of travelers seeming to have fled here for the night. A few are as drenched as yourself, while others appear to have changed into a warm pair of clothing. Not many of them drink, but if they do it’s something warm.
“Want to grab a seat? We’ll see if they have any rooms left,” San says to you, motioning to the table in the far corner of the room. His voice remains calm, expression even settled into a smile as he looks at you.
You and San have been doing an excellent job of pretending the little incident during sword-training this morning never happened. And as far as you’re concerned, it did never happen.
It’s not like you have any sort of actual feelings towards the swordsman. You think he’s kind, compassionate and steady, but that doesn’t need to be romantic. He had just been so close. It had been hot and sweaty and both of you were breathing rather heavily, it was just a biological response. Nothing more.
You almost believe it.
Letting San and Seonghwa heckle the inn-keeper, you leave your two satchels with them before heading towards the corner of the room. Ringing some of the water from the sleeves of your tunic, it falls in a puddle beneath the table as you settle into a chair. Leaning your head against the wall, your eyes are falling shut before you even consider closing them.
You’re tired. And cold. And sore.
It’s been over a week since you slept on something other than a blanket on the ground, and if it weren’t for the way your body feels as if it’s physically shutting down in protest of the fact, you’d barely be able to contain your excitement.
You nearly nod off in your chair before you feel something drop down on the table in front of you.
“Here you are, dear,” a voice says from above you. Peeking an eye open, you’re greeted by a plump middle-aged woman with greying dark hair and small spectacles smiling down at you. Her voice is cheery as she slides whatever she’s placed on the table closer to you.
Looking down, it appears to be a drink of sorts. In a thick white mug, it’s a brown colour with a stick of cinnamon protruding from the top.
“Hot buttered rum,” she explains, taking your bewildered expression as being towards the drink. Well, technically it is toward the drink, but not because of it’s flavour.
“Oh, this must be a mistake,” you say, tone polite as you push it back towards her. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Of course not!” She exclaims, almost too jovial as she pushes it back. There’s a twinkle in her eye, her smile almost mischievous. “It’s courtesy of the handsome young fellow at the table over there.”
Following her finger as she points to the other end of the room, your gaze almost immediately locks with a man sitting at a table. He’s surrounded by a group of equally young men, with dark hair and light eyes. Dressed much warmer than yourself, he sports black gloves and a scarf that wraps around his neck, holding a mug in his hand. Based on the cinnamon stick emerging from the top, it’s the same as yours.
He is handsome, you can’t deny that.
“Ah, young love,” the lady sighs, placing a hand on her heart. She leans in closer, although she doesn’t bother to lower her voice. “They aren’t as spry as they get older. You should invite him over.”
You can practically feel the way your cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “I’ll take that into consideration, thank you.”
Appearing to have taken the hint, she gives you a wink before heading off and back behind the counter. Turning back towards the gifter of the drink, he continues to smile at you, before nodding the glass in your direction in a sort of long-distance “cheers”.
Out of politeness you return the gesture, although you do nothing more than that. Even if the borderline intrusive waitress has suggested you invite him over, you know that would be a horrible idea. Frankly, you have your hands full with the surplus of men already in your life, and flirting is something you don’t think you’ll ever have the luxury of again.
However, it appears the stranger reads your polite smile as an invitation, as he rises to his feet. Whispering something to the man beside him, his friend casts a glance at you from over his shoulder, before grinning and giving the black-haired man a pat on the back.
Casting a wary look behind the man as he approaches you, Seonghwa and San no longer appear to be at the front desk. Your bags are also gone, likely having been taken to your room by the two of them.
Good. You aren’t sure why, but something about the thought of Seonghwa or San thinking that you may be flirting with a stranger makes you feel a bit uneasy. You try not to fixate too much on that thought, the fact that you’re practically engaged to another man yet another issue they’re unaware of, but the relief remains all the same.
The handsome stranger stands in front of you, one gloved hand resting on the table as the other holds his mug. His expression is soft. “Hi. May I join you?”
“If you want to,” you reply, not wishing to be rude. Still, you don’t want to give him the wrong idea. “But I’m with some friends who will be back right away.”
“That’s fine,” he says through a chuckle, pulling out a chair and seating himself across from you. “I’m known to make a quick impression.”
A tad caught off guard by the brazenness of his tone, you don’t say anything in response, although you do offer a chuckle. The man’s gaze continues to watch you, light eyes flickering over your features. He smiles.
“Do you have a name?” He asks.
You take a sip of your drink before answering. “It’s Yeji,” you reply, and he hums to himself, as if mulling it over in his mind.
“Pretty,” he says, and maybe you’d be flattered if it was actually your name. “I’m Yeosang.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Yeosang.”
“Likewise.” He says, fingers tapping against the tabletop. He leans in a little closer, as if hoping to break past the barrier of awkward small-talk, moving towards something the faintest hint deeper. “So, what brings you to the Burovian mountains?”
You almost hesitate, but you’ve always been rather good at thinking on your feet. You’ve had to be, considering you’ve gotten this far with the present circumstances.
“Just traveling,” you say with ease. “Trying to see all of Burovia, figured the mountains would be important not to miss.”
He hums again, a small smile creeping its way onto the corners of his lips. “That’s a good call. The mountains are gorgeous, definitely worth tenting for a couple nights. I’d recommend South-Peak Point, if you want a good view.”
You smile at this. Of course you aren’t actually travelling for recreation and will not have the time to stop and search for any sort of view, no matter how mind-blowing it may be, but for a moment it’s fun to pretend. You always wanted to travel across Burovia, when you were naive and didn’t know how dangerous and gruelling the journey could be, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to play along.
“You sound like a well seasoned traveller,” you say, and Yeosang’s eyes gleam at this. He chuckles to himself.
“Something like that,” he laughs. “You’ll also want to hit all the major kingdoms. Zaria, Kuroku, Dildysus. I’d normally suggest Libaiya, but they’ve gotten into a bit of trouble recently.”
You know it shouldn’t, as he also listed the rest of the major kingdom’s prior, but something about your kingdom’s name tumbling from his lips sets you on edge. You shouldn’t be talking to strangers, even ones with kind eyes and clever tongues. You’re supposed to be laying low.
“I’ve heard,” you say shortly, hoping he’ll drop the subject, or that Seonghwa or San may come back to the table.
“Mysterious black-clad army seizing the castle. Killing the king, hunting their princess,” Yeosang says, lifting a hand to place his chin in his palm. “It’s all very fantastical, don’t you think? Like something out of a storybook. Strange to be living it.”
You almost laugh at how very true that is.
Even so, you have no interest in entertaining the topic any longer. “I’ll be heading to Zaria soon,” you lie, not wanting to give away your real destination, even if he doesn’t appear dangerous. Although, it does strike you as a bit strange for him to bring up the siege, considering it’s likely a heavy topic for many others beyond yourself.
“Long ways away,” he comments, lip quirking upwards. “I’d assume you’d try somewhere closer. Like, I don’t know…Kuroku?”
He says it with such ease and passivity that you know it’s likely nothing, but something about the way he watches you over the rim of the mug as he says the kingdom’s title makes you feel… uneasy. Paranoia, likely, but nonetheless you no longer wish to participate in the conversation.
“I’ve come from Kuroku,” you reply, perhaps a little too blunt. Glancing over his shoulder once more, neither San nor Seonghwa have returned, and you chew on the corner of your cheek, nervous. “Listen, my party should be here soon-”
“Yeosang!” A voice joyfully boasts from behind the man, placing a hand down atop his shoulder. “Are you planning on introducing us to your new friend over here?”
Looking up at the newcomer, he has bright red hair and full cheeks. He’s also not alone, accompanied by a couple of the other men that had been seated at Yeosang’s table.
You internally groan, as frankly, this is not the company you currently wish to indulge your time in. You’re exhausted, and the men appear to take your presence as a form of entertainment. One of them casts Yeosang a wink, the other’s practically swarming around your table.
“This is Yeji,” Yeosang says, extending a hand out towards you in display. “She’s taking a little trip across Burovia. Wanted to see the mountains.”
“Ah sure, sure,” one of the men leaning over the table comments. He turns to face you, lips pulled into a toothy grin. He’s missing one of his middle teeth. “If it’s Burovia you want to see, you’re in luck. We’re the brightest bunch you could’ve ran into.”
You can’t help but let a bit of your impatience slip, tone perhaps a little too sarcastic. “Oh, I’m sure.”
If the man takes offence, he doesn’t show it. Instead he laughs, a hearty sound from his gut. “You pick em’ well Yeosang, we could use some spunk in our group.”
You pause at the statement, this being the second comment he’s made alluding to you joining them. Surely he cannot be serious, as you have literally just met them and are doing nothing to hide the discomfort displayed in your expression.
There’s something a little too forward about these men. The man with the missing tooth stands a little too close to you, so that you can smell the thick stench of alcohol on his breath. The glances they exchange with one another makes a sense of unease settle in your stomach, and you have no interest in sticking around to find out whether or not he’s joking about you joining them.
You awkwardly pull your chair back and rise to your feet. “Listen, I have to go find my group. It was nice meeting you.”
You nod to Yeosang, prepared to leave the table and wander the inn’s hall until you stumble upon your room, but you're stopped as a hand grips your arm. Not tightly, but enough so that you can’t leave without yanking it free.
“C’mon, don’t leave so soon,” he says, giving you a soft smile that does not match the way his fingers clench around your wrist. The leather of his glove is cold against your skin. “You should at least let us show you the trail to South-Peak Point. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
You know it’s stupid considering you have no plans of going to see the view anyways, but the patronizing assumption that you couldn’t manage to find the trail on your own causes a flare of annoyance to light inside of you. You huff, letting out a laugh that holds little humour.
“Thanks, but I think I can handle it,” you say. You manage to pull your arm free, but Yeosang is quick to grab it again, and this time a little more firm as he speaks.
“Fine, just let me give you something first,” he says. You consider pulling your arm free in a message of denial, but you figure that’d be useless. If he’s suggesting leaving you alone, you may as well swallow your pride and see whatever it is that he wishes to show you.
Yeosang digs into his pocket with his free hand, pulling out a piece of paper. It’s coffee-stained, crumpled into a ball, and frankly a little gross, which is why you can’t help the disgusted grimace that settles over your features as he drops it into your extended hand.
Unraveling the ball, you’re quick to notice that there are words sketched in thick black ink, clearly mass-printed rather than hand-written. You stare at them.
You continue staring at them for several seconds, re-reading the title over and over again as your brain appears to have momentarily stopped working in order to comprehend them.
When it finally manages, your heart is the next thing to stop functioning, as it plummets down into your stomach with overwhelming dread.
WANTED: PRINCESS OF LIBAIYA.
Beneath that title, a drawing of you.
Clearly someone must have realized the sketch to be inaccurate, as it no longer looks so much like a stranger. Eyes and nose now having returned to their proper size and your hair its current length and texture, even without the details of your present scarring it’s quite obviously you.
And if it’s truly so obvious, it means that the hoard of men that have surrounded you are just as aware of the fact.
“Couldn’t have made it easy for us, could ya’ Princess?” The man with the missing tooth says from beside you, and your grip tightens around the paper, crumpling it between your fingers. Before you can contemplate the fear that ignites itself within your system, your feet are set in motion towards the door, a desperate attempt at escape.
Yeosang’s hand wraps around your wrist before you can make your exit. This time, it is not the coolness of his leather glove that greets you, but the warmth of his palm. Or better, the horrific scolding heat of his palm, as when his flesh touches your own it’s with a burning sensation that causes you to let out a scream of pain.
His right leather glove having been discarded on the table, you’re immediately struck with familiarity of the week prior, of Jay back in Gloria.
He’s a sadist, you realize, and if you believed you were in trouble before then you’re screwed now.
The other groups of people seated within the inn all falter at the sound of your scream, the bustle of the establishment coming to a studded halt as even the lady who brought you your drink stops pouring the pint of ale in her hand. However, while every eye in the rooms seems to have their attention brought to you, none of them seem too keen on lending a hand. Nobody wants to mess with a sadist, let alone with the large band of brutish ruffians that accompany him.
You want to be mad at them, but you cannot. You are a stranger, they don’t owe you anything. Frankly, you’re more than a little scared too.
“We’ve been hunting you for some time now,” Yeosang says through a laugh, eyes glinting with something that resembles mischief, but not as playful. Greed. “I’ve got to hand it to you, you’ve managed to keep a low profile. Well done.”
“Let go of me,” you spit through gritted teeth, doing your best to appear threatening, even if tears sting in your eyes from the way your flesh sizzles and steams.
He does let you tug your arm free, but only because he knows you aren’t going to try and make any sort of quick escape, as it’ll surely be rewarded with another scalding of your arm.
When Yeosang speaks, it’s to the men of his party, not you. “Let’s make our way back to Androndea, I think that’s where we last saw them.” It’s in reference to the black-clad men, you’re certain of it.
“What about the storm?” A voice interjects, although from which man of the party you cannot tell.
“Are you kidding?” Yeosang laughs, grin widening. “We just got 250,000 gold pieces richer. Who gives a shit about a little rain?”
“C’mon, Princess,” the man with the missing tooth says, placing his hands on your shoulder, grip uncomfortably firm. While his tone has remained mostly jovial despite the stakes of the situation, his voice suddenly lowers as he leans in, lips roughly an inch from your ear. “You don’t cooperate, we’ll kill you. We get the reward either way.”
And really, how can you possibly argue with that?
The man steers you forward so that you’re walking towards the exit, and your gaze darts back towards the rooms, hoping that either San or Seonghwa might have heard you scream and come to check what’s wrong. It doesn’t seem likely, as nobody appears from down the hallway, and the inn continues to remain so silent that you could hear a pin drop.
You consider letting out another scream for them to hear you, but the thought of Yeosang placing his hand over your mouth is quick to quelm the idea. You’ve grown rather fond of your lips over the years, and don’t have any particular interest in having them burnt off.
You’re running out of options, and something tells you that if you walk through the inn’s exit, you’re as good as dead.
“What’s going on here?”
Said by a voice from in front of you, your attention is brought to Woo as he stands with his arms crossed. Having returned from the stable, he looks pissed as his eyes flicker between the men that surround you, eyebrows drawn into a deep scowl.
Your initial reaction is immense relief. Things have been good between you and Woo since the night by the fire. A little awkward, considering without the constant arguing and general distaste between both of you, you’ve grown to realize that you don’t really know how to actually exist around one another. There’s still the occasional teasing and bickering, but overall moments alone have been quiet, although not horribly tense. He doesn’t hate you, and based on the way his face twists with both disgust and annoyance towards the men surrounding you, you’re certain that them dragging you out of the building isn’t something the elemental will let slide.
However, your secondary response to Woo’s appearance is overwhelming, horrible dread. These men, they know you. They know who you really are, and if Woo finds out who that is- especially considering what he’d told you by the fire - you’re more than fucked.
You’re dead.
Woo goes to reach for your arm, but the man with the missing tooth pulls you away from him, a little too roughly as you nearly lose your balance.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Woo asks, and his voice nearly sends a shiver down your spine. His tone isn’t necessarily violent, not loud or overly angry. It’s quiet, low. It’s a threat, but only if they make it to be.
Yet, Yeosang doesn’t treat it as such. “Fuck off,” he laughs, shouldering Woo out of his way, nodding for the men to follow him. None of them do. “We got her first, the reward’s ours.”
“Shit,” you think to yourself, the air in your lungs dissipating as if they’ve been squeezed. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Woo scowls at Yeosang. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid,” Yeosang laughs, rolling his eyes, lip curved upwards into a grin. His eyes glow a deep red hugh, as he likely still rides the high your pain has granted him. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“This is a member of my party,” Woo says through gritted teeth, patience clearly waning thin as his hand clenches in and out, the faintest of flames beginning to dance between his fingers. “I’d appreciate it if you'd let her go before this gets ugly.”
There’s a series of ooo’s let out from the men around you, pure mockery. It’s a challenge, and to your surprise Woo does not extend himself to meet it. Instead, his gaze turns to you, and he nods over towards the hallway where your room is. “Come on, Yeji. Let’s go.”
He doesn’t understand the stakes at play, or why these men are bugging you and toying with him. If he did, he’d know there’s not a chance in hell of them just letting you leave, of escaping this without any bloodshed.
You don’t know what to do, but you know that you have to do something. The jar that contains your lies is teetering at the edge of a cliff, a mere breeze enough to blow it over. You have to act now, before it is smashed beyond repair.
“Yeji, huh?” Yeosang says, mulling over the name as he glances over at you. Your current terror must read blatantly on your face, as his own eyes light up with something that resembles delight. He turns back to Woo, grinning. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Woo- '' You start, trying to gain his attention - or better, take it away from Yeosang. You attempt to move towards him, but the man’s grip tightens around your shoulder, practically pulling you into him.
“Quit playing games,” Woo says, although you don’t miss the faintest hint of suspicion edging it’s way into his voice, as his gaze darts between Yeosang and your own. “Give her back.”
“You don’t even realize how precious the cargo is that you’ve been carrying,” Yeosang says, stepping a little closer to Woo. His grin is wicked, as he seeks to create pain and chaos in true sadist fashion. “You could have been rich, my friend.”
Woo’s scowl deepens, and his gaze falls on yours over Yeosang’s shoulder. “What is he talking about?” He asks, and his tone isn’t accusatory. Even though his gaze has become wary, words hesitant, he’s not angry with you.
Not yet. He will be.
“I…” You start, before trailing off. You should tell him, you know that. He’s going to know, is bound to realize, and that is only if you somehow manage to make it out of this alive. Maybe if the truth comes from you he’ll somehow grant you mercy.
But you can’t bring your lips to move. Out of fear of him abandoning you. Of in fury changing his mind and seeking the reward himself.
Or the most likely of options, being too terrified to see the utter betrayal that will read blatantly across his face.
Woo’s eyes narrow, lips drawing into a thin line as his gaze shifts back to Yeosang. “Let her go. I won’t ask again.”
Yeosang snickers at this, casting a mischievous glance back to both you and his party. “Quite the bodyguard you’ve acquired, haven’t you, Princess?” You wince at the pet-name that doubles as a title, not missing how Woo’s brows furrow even deeper.
Yeosang turns back towards Woo. His tongue slides along his teeth, almost serpent like, and he looks the elemental up and down. “And if I don’t, what then?”
“You don’t want to find out.”
There’s a tense moment as Woo stares down Yeosang, gaze refusing to budge. He doesn’t appear the slightest bit afraid, even though there remains about a dozen burly armed men before him. You wonder what it’s like, to be so sure of yourself. To be the master of such raw and unbridled power.
Then Yeosang reaches forward, grabbing Woo’s throat in his palm.
There’s a choked sound, followed by sizzling as Yeosang’s gift clearly takes Woo by surprise. Fortunately, for what Yeosang’s contains in one hidden gift, Woo matches him with his own.
There’s a flash of heat and light as a ball of flame ignites within the elemental’s hand, followed by a firm sideways swing as Woo’s fiery fist slams against the side of Yeosang’s head. It sends the sadist reeling, as he stumbles backwards. He clutches his scalp, which now sparks and burns from Woo’s flame.
The strike sends the inn into a frenzy, the men around you all unsheathing their own weapons, stalking towards the elemental. Woo’s gaze flickers between them, pupils darting back and forth as he appears to size up each opponent.
Then he begins.
Starting with a strong gust of air that blows two of the men approaching him off their feet, they tumble over the top of a table, landing on the ground behind it with a series of groans and a loud “thud”. Woo does not give them the chance to get up, as he sends another large blast of wind in their direction. The table slides backwards, horrifically fast as it traps them between it and the wall, accompanied by a sound that resembles the breaking of bones.
Turning to his next opponents - or better, victims, as it’s blatantly obvious they don’t stand a chance - both of his palms fill with flame. Throwing one ball of fire towards one of the men, it hits him square in the jaw, to which he lets out a wail of agony before clutching his face and falling to the ground.
Woo prepares the another flame, but it’s rendered unnecessary, as the other man’s expression floods with terror. Taking off past Woo, he sprints through the inn’s open door, towards cowardly safety. Woo chuckles, a low and unhumorous sound.
Yeosang swears under his breath, gaze darting between his deserted lackey and Woo. He turns to face you, before nodding to the man that continues to hold onto your shoulders.
The man with the missing tooth’s grip on you tightens, and he begins to drag you with him as he makes a break towards the door. Woo is currently preoccupied with two more of Yeosang’s men, clutching his fist as one of the kegs behind the counter explodes, the sheer pressure of the liquid enough for one of the men to go flying backwards. His head collides with the wall opposite to you with a sickening “crack”.
It makes your stomach twist, but you have greater matters at hand. Despite the way you fight desperately against the man’s grasp, he is massive, leaving zero possibility for you to outmatch him with raw strength. You need to be more tactical.
As you attempt to shout out for Woo, the man’s large hand flies over your mouth, ensuring that he remains under the radar as he continues his pursuit towards the exit. Yeosang already stands in the doorway, waving him forward.
They’re willing to desert their comrades, you realize. Leave them to suffer so long as they get their reward. If you thought they were greedy and sleazy before, you find them even more repulsive now.
The realization that if you don’t do something now, you’re likely not going to get the chance to do something ever sets in, and it causes you to consider your options. Your arms are rendered immobile due to the force of his grip, and your legs can’t cause much damage either as they’re mostly focused on remaining standing as the man rushes the two of you towards the doorway.
With all your limbs rendered useless, there aren’t many options available. Which is why you sink your teeth down onto one of his fingers that cover your mouth.
The sweat of his skin tastes salty on your tongue, and it takes everything in you not to gag as a strong metallic flavour soon follows suit. Instead of releasing his hand, you bite down even harder, so much so that you can feel the thin-ness of his bone between your teeth.
He mutters a shocked swear beneath his breath, wincing as he tears his hand free. It’s only a moment, but his grip on your shoulder relinquishes itself as he cradles his hand, glowering in disgust at the deep bite marks residing along his bloody finger.
You don’t waste the opportunity. Removing your sword from its sheath, you immediately settle into your defensive stance. San’s voice rings in your mind: Low on your knees, light on the balls of your feet, sword extended in both hands.
You do just that, and when the man finally brings his attention back over to you - arms extended to grab you, as if expecting you to have foolishly remained where he’d left you - his expression is one of surprise. It takes him a moment, but a crooked grin slowly creeps over lips before he reaches down to relinquish his own sword.
“Full of surprises, aren’t we, Princess?” He mocks, falling into his own defensive stance. It’s a tad sloppy, you note. He remains heavy on the heels of his feet, San would make him regret that immediately in training.
Before you can assess his technique any further, he’s on the move. Approaching you with a monstrous swing, both hands over his head as he brings his long-sword down upon your own, it takes all the strength you can muster to not drop the blade. Your wrists burn at the contact, but you don’t let yourself focus on the pain.
Upon striking you, the man takes a few seconds too long to raise his blade once more. He’s slow. San has always been fast. Even if the result is San’s swing’s not being as powerful, as the swordsman would put it, focusing too much on strength can quickly become a weakness.
And it does, as this time you're ready for his attack. When he brings the blade down again, instead of deflecting the strike you parry backwards, causing him to miss you entirely.
The man growls in frustration, followed by a stifled groan of pain as you swing your own blade out towards him, managing to nick his shoulder even as he attempts to dodge the swipe.
You grin, and it dawns on you that in this moment you’re out-wielding him. This is not San - of whom you know, who knows you in return and seeks to train rather than beat you - this is an actual opponent who strikes with a vengeance, a desire to win.
And yet, you are the one who’s winning, and it fills you with a sense of pride that you aren’t sure you’ve ever felt. A sense of passion, a desire for more.
Striking the man once again, this time your sword slices sharp against his cheek. Blood immediately drops from the wound near his eye like a red-stained tear. For a moment, he falters. Now should be his opportunity to attack, but he does not take it. Instead, he opts to fall back into his defensive stance, chewing on his bottom lip as his gaze darts upwards to meet yours.
He’s nervous. You smile.
You’re prepared to strike towards him again, already settling your sword into both of your hands to prepare another swing, but you don’t get the chance.
A hand grips around the back of your neck, and with it comes that familiar burning sting. You drop your sword.
“Quite the show,” Yeosang whispers as his fingers tighten around your neck, his nails digging into your burning skin as he pulls you behind him towards the door. “Let’s go.”
Scanning the room, you find Woo fighting with a tall and lanky fellow, who appears to be running from him more than actually sparring. San and Seonghwa also must have overheard the commotion during your sword fight, as they both have appeared and are dealing with their own opponents, San with his sword and Seonghwa with hand-to-hand combat. They are the only men left standing, the rest having either escaped or are crumpled against the floor.
Fortunately, while Yeosang’s grip is agonizing it does not render your lips useless as the man’s before him had.
“Woo!” You shout, breaking his attention from the man he has just finished throwing yet another ball of fire at, this one having landed true against his chest.
The elemental’s eyes widen when he sees you being pulled towards the door, and he does not hesitate for even a second before taking off after you.
When his fist connects with Yeosang’s nose, it is with no flame, just the sound of his raw knuckles cracking against the man’s face. Yeosang’s stumbles backwards with his hands cupped around his nose bridge, Woo following after him.
It’s with another swift punch that Yeosang crumbles to the ground. By the way he doesn’t move to get back up, you know he’s fallen unconscious.
You finally take the opportunity to catch your breath. There’s a moment shared in silence between both you and Woo, as you watch Yeosang breath in and out, eyelids fallen shut.
When Woo moves, it’s towards you. Hand wrapping around your wrist, he pulls you with him towards the door, before shouting over his shoulder to both Seonghwa and San. “Finish the job, we’ll be down the trail!”
Running as to not be dragged behind him, you pass by the inn’s owners on your way out. The other customers and the lady who’d given you the hot buttered rum hide behind the front desk, trembling in fear as they watch you with worried stares. You aren’t sure if they’re afraid of you, Woo, or whether your group will bring them more trouble before the night is over. Likely a mixture of them all.
Woo pulls you through the door, the two of you taking off down the trail. You jog for what you assume is ten minutes, and when he doesn’t stop, you realize that you aren’t sure where exactly you’re even going.
“Woo?” You ask. You aren’t able to see his face as he runs in front of you, expression shrouded in the storm’s shadow. It continues to downpour, the many droplets pounding heavily on your skin, filling you with a bitter cold as they soak through your tunic.
“Woo!” You try again when he doesn’t answer, forced to shout over the sound of the rain hitting the ground, pattering against the many puddles as the trail has already begun to flood. “Where are we going?”
It’s at this he finally lets go of you, stopping in his relentless pursuit. His gaze flies up and down the trail, searching if anyone had followed the two of you out. Once he realizes you're alone, he sighs, swallowing hard.
Then a sharp gust of wind blows you off your feet.
You tumble along the trail, mud splashing up and into your face as you roll along the dirt, knees burning as they scrape along the rocks beneath you. The force of the wind is great, and when you finally manage to stop rolling, you’re dizzy as you rise to your feet.
Even through the unsteadiness, you take off into the forest before you can consider otherwise. The realization of the danger you’re in has set in to your body, but not yet your mind. All you can think is run.
Twigs and rocks crunching beneath you along the forest floor, you fight against the mud threatening to suck you down, clawing at the bottoms of your shoes. You’re doing alright, until it’s one particularly thick patch of the wet dirt that takes hold of your boot, and you tumble down onto your forearms.
Attempting to immediately rise back up to your feet, it proves to be no use as the mud refuses to relinquish your ankle. You turn around, prepared to shed yourself of your boot if that is what permits you to escape.
Only to find that the mud is not only sucking you down, but crawling up your leg. It’s deep black sludge twisting around your calf, creeping its way upwards.
You attempt to pull your leg free, but it’s of no use, especially considering the mud has also begun to intrap your other ankle as well.
“No, no, no,” you whisper beneath your breath, panicked as your gaze shoots upwards. Woo makes his way towards you, clearly in no rush as his hand is extended out in front of him, fingers dancing as the mud’s pace begins to quicken. It engulfs both of your legs, and it’s only then you feel it begin to creep over and onto your wrists, the mud from other puddles within the forest approaching you in the form of large, worm-like beings.
A large echo of thunder rattles around you, not far off as the forest flashes with a strike of lightning. It casts light across Woo’s expression as he approaches, and his eyes are dark as he watches you through furrowed brows. Rain pours down upon him and his dark hair clings to his forehead, giving him a rugged look as he remains covered in the damp grime of the keg’s ale. His jaw is set firm, teeth clearly gritted beneath the tight line his lips are drawn into.
If looks could kill, you would already be dead.
Woo clenches his fist, and the lines of wet earth wrap firm around your wrists, while the mud that encompasses your feet suddenly launches you upwards. It’s as if you are standing, but a layer of mud continues to sit under your feet, trapping you as your back presses firm against a tree that sits behind you. Meanwhile, the mud around your wrists pulls your arms in opposite directions, like two ropes attached from opposite trees.
You know you can’t move. You don’t even bother to try.
Woo finally finds himself in front of you. His gaze bares into yours, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything. He doesn't have to, the rage that swirls within the darkness of his eyes already says enough.
When he finally does speak, his voice is quiet. It gives nothing away. No anger, no sadness. Nothing.
“Who are you?” He asks.
You know he heard them back at the inn, the men calling you Princess, the way they went on and on about how you were “precious cargo”. He knew about the reward since he found the poster back in Stockholm. Woo is smart, and based on the way his eyes bare through you, there’s no doubt he’s already put the two and two together. No sense in hiding any longer.
“I think you already know,” you answer.
Woo’s face contorts inwards on itself at the admission. All of his features - his eyebrows, his lips, his nose - squinching together, a look of overwhelming, crushing devastation. He looks upwards into the sky, as if to curse the god’s for where he has now found himself. His fists clench at his sides, and the mud tightens around your wrists and ankles, although you aren’t sure if it’s intentional.
“Shit,” he whispers, and it’s more broken than it is angry. He buries his face into his hands, and it appears as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The realization of it all hitting him in full force, the depth of your lie. How Seonghwa has gotten himself so deeply entangled with a fraud. How your father is dead and there is no money in Kuroku, meaning San could be as good as fucked.
How he completely unravelled himself for you, only to find it was your family that had tied all the knots in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know it’s a meaningless, pathetic excuse for an apology. You don’t expect his forgiveness, you don’t deserve it. Perhaps that is why you do not try, as you do not wish for him to grant it.
Woo pulls his hands away and they fall down at his side. He does not look at you, instead his eyes remain trained up at the sky, the rain pounding endlessly across his face. He does not seem to care.
Woo swallows hard. Then he moves towards you.
Digging into his pocket, he pulls something out. As its cool metal presses against your throat, you’re quick to recognize it to be a knife. Based on the beautiful design fashioned on the hilt that you can see from the corner of your eye, it is the one from the day you met them, the one he’d taken from you before the scorpions.
You bet he wishes the beasts had finished the job.
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” he says lowly, and his eyes meet yours over the blade. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, warm against the storm’s bitter cold, and it reminds you of back in the sand village. When he’d brought you into Aisha’s house’s narrow hallway and asked for your help, a testament towards his newly forming trust. A mistake.
His eyes are glossy, and when the tears begin to slip through it is not the same as it had been a few nights ago. Then he was nothing but vulnerable. His tears were sad, but they were of the gentle kind, the trusting kind.
These tears are just as raw, but they are born of nothing but fury, of hatred in its most pure form.
“You are a monster,” he says quietly. “You are no better than them. Jay, Warden, your father,” he spits the word out like a curse.
“At least they are honest about what they are,” he says through gritted teeth, practically seething as he stares daggers into your eyes. “At least they don't trick broken men into doing their bidding. At least they don’t hide behind pretty smiles and fake tears.”
You swallow hard, and you feel the knife against your throat as it bobs. When you speak it is choked and quiet, the blade not permitting anything more than that. “Do you want to know why?”
“You think I give a fuck why?” Woo says through a harsh laugh. “I don't care if you’re on death row, I don't care about what men are hunting you, I don't care what real business you have in Kuroku. I don’t care.”
He presses the knife further against your throat and you wince, the blade breaking past the first layer of skin. “You saw what San is dealing with. You saw how badly we need that fucking money, and you didn’t give a shit!”
You want to argue that you did care, that it has been eating you up inside since the confrontation in Gloria. That every spare moment in solitude has been devoured by guilt, wanting nothing more than to tell them the truth, but too afraid to take the chance given your reward.
You don’t tell him this, because Woo does not want to hear it. You do not blame him, he does not owe you the opportunity to plead your case. He owes you nothing.
“But of course you didn’t. Your whole cursed family doesn't care about anyone but themselves,” he continues, lips curling in disgust. “Were you laughing inside listening to what happened to me in your orphanages? Was it amusing for you?”
The accusation makes your chest ache, because no, of course not. His story was horrific, unlike anything you thought your father was capable of. It crushed you, and it continues to crush you still. It certainly is not something in which you find any sort of entertainment.
“I didn’t know about the orphanages Woo-” You start, desperate to have him aware of that fact, but he doesn’t let you finish.
“Like hell you didn’t know!” He cuts you off, and now he is yelling. His tone is higher than normal, as he fights off the tears that well in his eyes, voice breaking with emotion. “You think I'm actually going to believe that, after all of this?”
He shakes his head, and you can feel as his grip tightens around the hilt of the knife in his hand. “I should slit your throat right now.”
“You should,” you agree, simply because it is true. A tense moment of silence passes and Woo does not use the knife, nor does he pull it away. “So why don’t you?”
His answer is preceded by a pause, but when he speaks, it’s as if it should be obvious. “Because of them. The people you’ve used,” he spits, his breathing escalating as he struggles to control his anger. “Seonghwa is so far passed smitten for you, and San is too good of a person to agree to what you deserve.”
He presses the knife a little deeper. Not enough to kill, or even severely wound, but enough that it hurts. You swallow down a whine of pain, although tears sting in your eyes. When he speaks, his voice is low.
“I want you to understand that if it weren't for them, I would kill you where you stand. And I would enjoy it.”
“Woo? Yeji?” Someone calls from down the trail - Seonghwa, based on the accent - heading towards you as his voice becomes louder. Woo’s face twists even deeper into a scowl at the mention of your name. Your fake name.
“You guys?” You hear Seonghwa call again, before a series of footsteps head towards you. In the distance you can see as both he and San approach, your sword in San’s hand. “We saw your footsteps heading into the forest, what are you guys…”
Seonghwa trails off as he sees the two of you before him, the elaborate mud-prison that Woo has trapped you in certainly an alarming sight. Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrow together and he steps towards you, casting Woo a bewildered look.
“Woo, what the hell are you doing?” he asks. In response, Woo clenches his fist, and the mud comes tumbling down to the ground. You fall with it, knees burning as they crash against the forest underbrush. You don’t bother rising to your feet, your legs feeling too much as if they’ve turned into liquid to manage it.
“Ask her,” Woo spits, shoving the knife back into his pocket. When you don’t respond, your lips feeling too numb to make themselves move, his tone becomes even more furious. “Tell them what I’m doing.”
You want to, but your tongue suddenly feels like it’s swollen three times as large. Seonghwa looks at you with big, innocent and worried eyes. So genuinely and truly concerned for you. San’s expression is not as gentle, but it is equally as confused. He watches you with bewilderment, it does not appear to cross his mind that you have done something to wrong them.
Which is why you cannot bring yourself to speak, to tell them the truth of what you have done. How you have used them. How that while you will try to get the royal family in Kuroku to bring them wealth, there is no guarantee, as you are not even from their kingdom. Your name is not Yeji, you are not the girl you swore to be, the girl who they’ve grown to care about.
“A liar to the very end, huh?” Woo says, letting out a snort of disbelief. Turning away from you and towards both San and Seonghwa, his expression shifts from anger to sadness, as if realizing just how deeply this will hurt them.
Still, he is less of a coward than you are, and he does not hold himself back.
“She’s not from Kuroku,” he says plainly, one fist clenching at his side as the other points back towards you, accusatory. “She’s the Libaiyan Princess.”
Seonghwa’s eyebrows pull together, and he lets out a small laugh of confusion. “No she’s not,” he says, and from the lightness in his tone you can tell that he truly and whole-heartedly believes it.
When Woo says nothing in response, Seonghwa turns to you, as if expecting a rebuttal. A moment passes as he waits for you to deny the accusation, to exclaim that Woo is only joking, because surely he must be. Surely you would not do something so horrible, play them all as fools.
You watch the soft smile fall from his face as he realizes you are not going to.
“Yeji,” he says, followed by nothing, once again prompting you to deny it. He doesn’t want to believe it’s true, refuses to until the words come from your own mouth.
“Stop calling her that,” Woo interjects angrily. He’s not upset with Seonghwa, merely cannot stand to hear the lie fall off his tongue. “She’s not Yeji. It’s all been a lie. All of it. There’s no father in Kuroku. After all of this, there’s nothing for us. We’re as good as fucked.”
Woo whirls on you, gesturing to both himself and around him, to all those you have hurt beyond repair. “Congratulations,” he says. “You’re almost to Kuroku. I hope you got what you wanted.”
He’s storming back down the path before you can offer any sort of response, although you doubt you could have managed to say anything of value. Tears well in your eyes and fall silently down your cheeks, you cannot even bring yourself to sob. It feels as if your voice box has been hollowed out, losing even the mere ability to speak.
What could you possibly say to make it better? The answer is simple: there is nothing.
San watches you, mouth drawn into a tight line. His good eye flickers between you and the sword that rests in his hand. At first you do not understand what he’s looking at, but you soon realize that it’s the sapphire embedded in the hilt. Your mother’s sapphire.
A small, sad smile spreads over his lips. He shakes his head, as if disappointed, both in you and himself.
“Ah,” he says at the realization, setting the sword down on the ground in front of him. He gives you another glance, and you cannot understand his reaction. He does not cry, he does not scream, he does not do anything but smile sadly. “I should have known.”
He turns to run after Woo, and now it is just you and Seonghwa.
The blonde stares at you, and his face is almost blank. Lips only slightly down-turned, his eyes remain vacant. Empty.
Seonghwa is always so animated. Smile enough to brighten a room when he’s happy, teeth practically chattering when he’s worried, and eyes like broken saucers when he is sad. It is only now that you’ve ever seen him appear so hollow, and it is far more difficult to bear than the pain even his tears could bring you.
“Is it true?” He asks, and you nod.
He swallows hard, as if gulping down any and all emotion. His pain is something he’s never appeared to hide from you, vulnerability never a source of shame between the two of you. How quickly that has changed.
“How could you not tell me that?” He asks, and his tone is plain. Numb. “How could you go all this time keeping that from me?”
When you don’t respond, you can see the way his anger itches beneath his skin, bubbling up his throat as he once again gulps down more air. He wants to be angry, but he also so desperately wishes to understand. Understand how the girl he’s grown so fond of is nothing of who she truly is. “What, did you not think you could trust me like I trusted you?”
“I couldn’t take that risk, Seonghwa,” you say, almost pleading with him to understand. You hate the way he’s looking at you, eyes so vacant, as if you are a stranger. It’s unfair of you to wish otherwise, it’s true. “I couldn’t let my guard down, not with such a high reward on my head.”
“You couldn’t let your guard down but you could sleep with me,” Seonghwa interjects, and there it is. Plain, harsh, but also complete and utter fact. “Did any of that mean anything to you? Or were you just playing with my head so I wouldn’t suspect anything?”
“Of course it meant something to me, Hwa-”
“Stop,” he whispers, lips pursing together. His gaze shifts to the ground, as if he cannot bear to look at you any longer. “Guilt, regret, and desperation.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, you ask what he means through a sob. Your body finally permits you to cry, and as the tears fall your entire being shakes, from your chest to your very soul.
“That night in Stockholm, those are the emotions I took from you,” he explains, his own throat tightening as his voice becomes raspy, the words difficult to get out. “If only I knew what they were really from. I thought I was being kind, not pressing you any further, turns out I was just a fool.”
“You weren’t a fool-”
“Oh, I am,” he cuts you off, lips pursing together. He finally looks at you, and his eyes have begun to glisten, rimmed with tears he does not let fall. “I am because even now I hate to see you cry.”
He shakes his head, before turning around. When he speaks, he does not face you. “I suggest you stay here for a while, Woo will need some time to cool off. If you’re really the princess, I’m sure your business in Kuroku is a royal affair. If that means there’s a way you can get San the money, come back. If there’s not…”
He trails off, gaze drifting to your sword on the ground, he sighs. “If there’s not then don’t bother.”
Seonghwa leaves and you are alone.
The night’s darkness cascading down upon you in tune with the pouring rain, you remain on your knees, fingers digging into the mud as you clench it within your hands.
You almost wish it would come alive once more, that Woo would come back, even if it was simply to scream at you. To berate you for your lies, for what you have done. At least then he is here, and you are not alone. Even if you have destroyed everything, they are all still with you.
But he is not here. None of them are.
Minho’s words from a week prior ring in your mind like an unwelcome tune: “They will discover your lies, and it will change everything.”
A sob erupts from your throat as you know that it already has.
~~~~~~~~
next chapter.
#seonghwa fanfiction#wooyoung fanfiction#san fanfiction#seonghwa angst#wooyoung angst#san angst#seonghwa fluff#san fluff#wooyoung fluff#seonghwa smut#wooyoung smut#san smut#seonghwa x reader#wooyoung x reader#ateez fanfiction#san x reader#ateez imagines#ateez headcanons#ateez#seonghwa x you#san x you#wooyoung x you#seonghwa headcanons#wooyoung headcanons#san headcanons#ateez series#ateez fantasy au#seonghwa fanfic#wooyoung fanfic#woosanhwa
313 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Lifeaters (II.2)
II. Chaser
MASTERLIST
Chapter Summary: You go to the trials for the Quidditch team
Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)
Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia,
Wordcount: 2,6 k
Notes: wuhuuu yes reader will be THAT girl <3
You couldn’t take your eyes off of Gilderoy Lockheart
But not for the reasons the others girls in the room where
You found it funny, how self-centered he was, how ridiculous he was… oh Merlin
You looked at the “surprise” test in your desk and rolled your eyes, how could you even know what was his favorite color? of course you knew the answers, but not because you read his ridiculous books…
“Don’t expect special treatment from me, eh?”, he said, as he winked at you
“Believe I don’t”, you answer shortly
“How is Cercille?”, he asked, “I hope not too heartbroken”
“Relieved, I’d say”, you mumbled, he didn’t listen, but kept delivering his stupid test to the other unfortunate students
You watched his face as he read your answers and cleared his throat uncomfortably, you giggled to yourself when you clearly saw you had answered with “poop” to the answer of “what is his favorite color”
He decided to leave you alone and you appreciated it, preferring to wink and bother the girls who were interested in him. Yo could tell that the boys didn’t like him either, specially after he introduced the Cornish pixies
He released them into the class and they started to wreak havoc, one of them started pulling your hair as another started bothering Draco sitting next to you, Goyle quickly grabbed a book and hit them with it, releasing you quickly.
The entire class ran away in terror, you did too.
Another year with a professor you didn't care for for Defense against the dark arts…
From reading the books and the general theme, you should be truly entertained and active in Defense against the dark arts, but so far… First you had Professor Quirrel, which classes were boring and hard to follow, now… you had this clown.
The sad part was that your aunt introduced him to you when she was “sure” you would like him and accept him, and after like half a year of dating… but things went sideways after that whe she brought him to a Malfoy Ball and he couldn’t fool anyone there. That truly put things in perspective with Cercille
You felt a bit bad, you knew how dedicated to you she had been, he was the only boyfriend she introduced you two, after, again, six months of dating… she deserved to be happy, you only hoped that now that you were in hogwarts she would have the time and disposition to meet someone
Someone handsome, funny and kind… someone deserving of her…
“Let’s go to the trials”, he wasn’t asking, Draco just slumped in the chair right next to you at lunch and looked at you with his gray eyes, he was demanding, not asking
“I don’t know…”, you whispered. this is the only thing you wanted since you knew you were coming to Hogwarts, but now that the day had finally come, you believed you had a knot in your belly. You were so nervous, your hands were so sweaty you were going to slide right off the broom and die.
Well now you were just being dramatic.
You were not going to die but possibly be truly embarrassed in front of all the slytherin House
“We’ve been playing all summer”, he said back, his father really just built him an Entire Quidditch Stadium in the back of the malfoy Manor only for you two to practice for this very moment, “You are very good”
“You just said that because we were the only ones playing”, you said back
“That is not true”. he said, “besides… you know I have a way in”, he whispered.
You were going to try out, but still, the nerves were eating you alive you could barely eat anything.
The sun was almost blinding, luckily it was still warm outside, if only you had your magical glasses…
“What if we don’t make it?”, you asked Draco as you were already in the pitch, alongside other students, you had your old broom in you hand
“We will, relax”, oh Draco had a trick on his sleeve, but you didn’t know that. You looked at the boxes and you saw your friends laughing and joking
A Quidditch team consisted of seven players: three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper, and one Seeker. You were fast and nimble, but you were after the Chaser spot, Draco however, wanted to be a Seeker, just like Potter, and he wanted it desperately
The Slytherin team operated differently then the others, if you wanted in, you had to be beat the current holder of the position you were after, for example you were after the Chaser position, so you needed to beat one of the current chasers of the team, or the spare
They had the leading team, and then they had a spare for each in case one of them got injured, which happened a lot.
You and Draco stood next to each other anxiously, sharing smiles and giggles, as the captain, Marcus Flint, walked amongst you to take the lead
“Well, we have good prospects this year”, he said, satisfied, stopping and smiling at you. He had crooked teeth, and for everyone else, he seemed mean but to you he had always been nice.
He organized the “opposing” team, you, Draco, and some others, the “pretenders”, against a team made out of the head team and some of the “spares”
He didn’t play, he was the captain even though he was a fifth year, and he was not going to be surrendering his position in the team
You took to the skies as Draco did, and Macus stood under you on the ground as he was Professor Hooch
“Well, good luck everyone!”, he released the balls into the field and you wasted no time in sneaking in and grabbing the quaffle.
You didn’t even looked to the side, you flied your broom as fast as you could to the other side of the field
“Look at her go!”, you heard.
Your broom was a Quicksilver 2.0, in the ranks… it was pretty high up, but in the beginners part of the ladder, it was no way professional, but a good broom for those who were exactly what you were, a twelve year old student. it had a rubber grip and foot holders, it was for beginners.
You passed with the ball and all inside the ring because you were so nervous you thought you were going to drop it, you didn’t trust yourself to throw it.
You heard laughs but because it was not a good maneuver.
You were forced to drop the quaffle to keep playing, and you relaxed visibly when you realized you had left everyone else behind you on the first flight.
The starting team took the quaffle again, and a boy who was a sixth year, applying for the team, had no trouble stealing the quaffle and when you were flying on the outside of the field, he passed onto you
You hugged the quaffle tightly to your side, and managed to dodge two bludgers and the aggressive keeper. You took a deep breath, and threw the Quaffle at one of the rings, the thing hit the side, but still went in… Oh Merlin you were so nervous
It took Draco 20 minutes to grab the snitch, but when he did, you had scored 40 points, of the 70 your team made, and you had 80 points against you.
You gave a good fight, and now you were waiting outside the changing rooms that Flint and the rest were using as a meeting room.
“She is small, she is the fastest with that broom, she will sneak right between the other team’s players“, you heard Flint say, Draco grabbed your hand tightly and smiled at you
“But she needs to work on her arm strength”, muttered Adrian Pucey, who had managed to keep his Seeker position
“That is what training is for”, he debunked
“We had never taken two second years years at the same time, we will lose strength”
“But we will gain skill, and speed”, they exited the dressing rooms and Terence Higgs was so angry, so so angry, Draco was going to replace him, and he was left in the replacement team.
“We have come to a decision”, said Flint, smiling widely
“I hope I’m not interrupting”, you turned quickly to see Uncle Lucius walking towards you slowly, he had seen the trails from the box apparently.
All the boys from the team paled at the sight of him, he was indeed imposing
“Mister Malfoy”, greeted the captain Marcus Flint
“I just wanted to come down and congratulate my son and goddaughter, the trials went well I see…”, he said, looking at you and Draco and smiled, “it brought me such joy, and memories flooded back from when I, myself, was a member of the team”. For Merlin, what was he going to do?, “I wasn’t quick enough to be a Seeker, I was a chaser, like my goddaughter”, he said smiling, “I wasn’t fast enough, perhaps, because the amazing brooms that exist today did not exist back then”
He clapped his hands and a huge box, the size of him appeared in the middle of the field
“For my house’s quidditch team, a contribution”, he said, implying clearly, that it was because we were going to be accepted in the quidditch team
The seeker you replaced, that you didn’t know the name of, frowned, looking at you hatefully, and then abandoned the pitch rapidly, you even felt bad
The box contained only seven brooms. When you saw them you gasped
They were not Nimbus 2000, but a new, limited edition, Nimbus 2001, custom made, shining black with green ends, instead of straw, like normal brooms, they were rumored to be made of unicorn hair, but that was dismissed, it was silk worm’s fiber.
“Congratulations you two”, he smiled at Draco and you, without before of course, shaking hands with Marcus and Adrian, your now fellow seekers.
You were now the only female in the leading team, and you felt self conscious, in the team last year were two girls, but they were both in seventh year, and they graduated and left, and this year, Marcus Flint was left as captain
The team surrounded Uncle Lucius as he was some sort of eminence, as you looked at Draco with a smirk.
. . .
Dear Aunt! I'm so excited as I’m writing this… I MADE IT! Just like you told me I would, I made it into the Quidditch team! We actually played a trial game and I scored 30 points! Three goals! Can you believe it? I was so nervous I actually went inside the hoop to score the first time, the second I threw it and the third as well
I’m so happy!
Uncle Lucius bought all the team's new brooms! They were custom made! Anyways, I’m so happy! even though I took someone else’s spot, but… I think it was fair, it was a trial… the uniform is so gorgeous! I love the jumper, it is soft and comfortable, and the cape has tiny shiny darker green stripes, and the pants are of a beige color, but what I like the most are the leather boots, well, I like them as much as the jumper. I guess you already knew how it is because you were in Slytherin too… and it hasn't changed much!
I'm rambling!
Hope you are well, please tell me all about the color of the potion when it hits the stores in Paris, also, if you went with the bottle I helped pick please.
I’m sending you Umbra, please, don’t let her nest in my bed again, thank you
I love you! <3
You finished scribbling your letter to your aunt, sealed it, signed it, and gave it to Umbra, who flew away after you whispered your aunt’s name. You saw her dark form disappear quickly. You smiled widely as you ran back to the castle the very same day.
The very next day you were proudly wearing your uniform, and you were feeling so great, it was so comfortable. You loved your new sweater, and the cape! You got the number six, and Draco got the number Seven, and your last name was imprinted on the fabric. The jumper was incredible, comfortable, warm and soft.
You had been called as soon as you can for a practice, the first game was against Gryffindor and you two were complete rookies, you needed to be trained as much and as soon as you could
But as you were already in the outer courtyard to go training, you came face to face with the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team. You watched your captain fight with Wood about who is going to use the field to train, you look at Draco who looked smugly back to you
They decided to train this early for the two of you, they wanted to get you in the field as soon as possible for the upcoming game and first of the season against Gryffindor. Especially with your new brooms, that they were supposedly the fastest in the market. You couldn’t stop looking at it, it was beautiful, all black with the end green, it was pretty to look at.
“I professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team, permission to practice today owing to the need to train the new seeker and chaser”, Woods read, then he raised his eyes to look back at Marcus Flint, “you have a new seeker, who is he?”, he asked and you frowned, to feel him a bit entitled
“I am!”, declared Malfoy, everyone stepped aside to show the both of you
“Malfoy?”, asked Potter, he then looked at you, “Basilik?”
“That’s right, and that is not all is new this year!”, your friend mocked, showing up his new broom, the brooms uncle Lucius has bought for all of us, in celebration of you making it into the team
“Those are nimbus 2001, how did you get those?”, asked Weasley
“It was a gift from Draco’s father”, mocked Marcus
“You see Weasley, unlike some, my father can afford the best”
“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in”, Granger butted in, “they got in on pure talent”, you knew what Draco thought about that, about you both buying their way in, you personally knew it wasn’t entirely true, Lucius gave the brooms after you made it, right?
But with terror you saw your friend turn to meet Granger, a scowl on his face, you could almost hear what he was about to say before he actually said it
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood”, it made you cringe as you heard it, especially after everyone gasped. It wasn’t a very nice word, as you could simply call them Muggle-borns, but… you knew that word was thrown around easily once the kids went to sleep and the adults were left alone to speak freely.
“You’ll pay for that Malfoy!”, muttered Weasley, he took out his wand, you wanted to do the same but you left it in your room, silly you, “Eat slugs”
No need, the curse rebounded and made him fall on his ass several feet away
You couldn’t help but laugh as everyone ran to him.
You were almost sick yourself when you saw the ginger throw up slugs.
Well if your team didn’t like you by then they certainly liked you now.
#misguidedlifeaters#draco malfoy x you#draco x y/n#draco malfoy x reader#draco x you#draco x reader#draco malfoy#harry potter and the chamber of secrets#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#harry potter fanfic#dont know why i bother
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
for All intents and purposes, 90% of anything that i say do or create for the birthers of the canon mdzs generation are either speculative or headcanons. idk if i'm going to Stop with the lan & jiang sects or if i'm going to go all out & include the nie, jin & wen sects & all their affiliates, & really the only characters i Truly Want to draw are the last Nie clan leader & his 2 wives & lan furen. Clan Leader Nie is slowly giving me uzui tengen vibes, if for no other reason than I Like to Think that Nie Huaisang's Mother is a crybaby like Suma & Mingjue's mother like hinatsuru
all that being said, i'm gonna log some headcanons
Wei Changze is an unfortunate only child, though there's a high chance that he's milk-brothers with Fengmian. wcz's only living relative is his mother, a small woman with no spiritual power to speak of who is nervous in the presence of men. the wei family in general is Small, & any extended family that still lives are so estranged from wei changze and his mother that they may as well not exist at all. while the jiang family was well-off and in no need of any new servants, a young man came by some few decades ago and bartered his sister off to the family in exchange for money and some supplies for travel. the then-clan leader took pity on the woman being sold off by her own flesh and blood and let her work for them, but within a month it became obvious that the reason her brother didn't want her was because they were going to happen on another mouth to feed and no man to claim a bastard. despite her reservation towards men, wei changze grows into the type of person who's unreasonably gentle with his own mother and he's one of the extremely few men that can exist in the same room as her alone without her breaking into an awful fit of trembling. his mother ends up being one of the midwives that helps bring jiang fengmian into the world.
knowing that she was raised on a Celestial mountain under an immortal, & knowing that xiao xingchen's name has multiple instances of the Sun radical in it, i have hcs that cssr's Name has moon radicals in it. i've tried thinking for sun & stars but i dont like it so the yue radical is in there, most likely under Radiant. she's a feral child, less in the sense of being a creature that acts impulsively and lashes out, and more in the sense that she just refuses to be tamed, by her master, by the sects, by the world at large. she's living life & enjoying it, "ain't nothin gonna break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down" kinda girl. she's level headed, very much likes to think things through, but she knows definitively what she does not want.
fengmian has an instant crush on jiejie, though to be wholly fair cssr descended on them like a celestial being herself to wreak havoc on lqr Immediately. wcz is enamored, but knowing he has no hope and lives with expectations of finding a nice subservient wife to fulfill his nice subservient life, he makes no move towards her & instead enjoys the light that jfm's eyes give.
cssr doesn't see the jiang disciples again for another year at Least, after the cloud-recesses incident that ends with her yanking Qiren's goatee out. she spends time in each sect as she wanders around, making friends in each one and by the time she's around yunmeng, her closest companion currently being the nie heir. like a boy in love, fengmian is intent on spending as much time as he can with her, learning her quirks and likes and dislikes, and she can see clearly that he's looking at her with rose-tinted glasses but makes no move or indication that she's intent on returning the feelings, mostly because she's not interested in him but also the idea of being a sect-leader's Wife, a position that would put her in the very proximity of the politics her master held such disdain for, was wholly unappealing
nie zhongzu was a trailblazer. he was very much a man who did not care of other people's opinions and very blatantly lived in a righteous way. if he wanted to do something that didn't affect the people around him in any direct way, he'd do it (like promoting a concubine to the status of Wife when doing so was highly frowned upon). he'd be a himbo if it weren't for the fact that he was a master of the 5 arts, extremely well read and the heir to a clan knee deep in sect politics raised with the expectation of taking this mantel. that aside i like to think he had sisters that carried that big beefy nie blood.
nie furen was a tall woman, her husband was just taller. the man was built like mingjue, a bull. she gives off willow-tree vibes, is probably a strong cultivator, collected in nature and relatively subservient. she doesn't want for much and has accepted her roll in being the political tie to the nies and behaves accordingly. really the only person that can make nie furen flustered is her husband's concubine, and not even in the competitive way. nie furen is gay & she enjoys huaisang's mother Very much as both company and eye candy.
concubine xiao laopo is nie zhongzu's childhood friend. well really she's one of the nie servants that got promoted to concubine after nie zhongzhu announced that he was going to marry her when they were children and the elders rushed to put a stop to his insanity. she's not a cultivator, and because she's not, she doesn't have much of an eye for either the education they receive nor a true understanding of the work they perform outside of "important" & "helpful to all" & "spiritual." that being said, her heart is still moved by whatever arts are presented to her. she's bubbly and quick to make friends with nie furen when the furen is married into the clan, and takes solace in the idea that their husband is a pretty open-minded man to bypass any shame she would otherwise feel behaving towards the recognized wife of the nie clan. xlp has an equal interest in men and women and was Probably present when nmj was conceived. i wanna name her Bu but i feel like thats too on the nose for the Me who recently got into cdramas
wen-sibling parents have the classic shounen + love interest dynamic, borderline main character & his tsun girl who berates him for his recklessness, except roll reversed. their mom is a physically strong woman, tall, wonderful cultivator, probably only shorter than nie-zhongzhu ((honestly she herself might be a nie descendant)). she's a bit on the stoic side and pretty headstrong, meanwhile their dad is a relatively small man who constantly gets into spats with his wife because she'll often have another wound that needs tending to whenever she comes back from hunts. he's Technically a cultivator, but no notably strong golden core and rather spends his time studying the flow of qi & how to best clear blockages in meridians. honestly before they're even married it's highly speculated that she gets hurt just to be doted on. she'll bite back but let him win arguments, and on distant night hunts she'll bring him back bushels of herbs that can't be found in qishan. more often than not she won't present them with any fanfare, but rather just leave them in a place he can find. they're awkward around each other before marriage & argue for the sake of filling white noise afterwards.
wen daifu is wen ruohan's third cousin. he doesn't wear his hair with any real embellishments or guans that denote status in the clan or even allude to his affiliation with the clan, despite the fact that his robes would give it away regardless. he has a gnarly scar on his body courtesy of the main family's children, and is often bullied onto nighthunts with them because he is the best practicing doctor of their generation. despite being brought on as a healer for the longer nighthunts and ruohan taking special interest on keeping his cousin by his side, wen daifu is pretty adamant about healing anyone from any sect that is injured in front of him. he's not taller than 5'7"/170cm, but his curt and clear way of speaking makes up for any attention he'd fail to garner just by existing.
wen ruohan is the middle of 3 boys and quite fond of playing weiqi. his older brother has no patience for sitting and playing board games with his younger brother, being a relatively active kid that enjoys pushing his weight around with other cultivators from his generation. his younger brother is half his age and takes a great deal of satisfaction in imitating their eldest brother but still looks to ruohan for approval. despite his attempts at imitating the eldest son, the youngest brother often finds himself on the receiving end of his peer's fists whenever their squabbles get out of hand. despite his penchant for being all-smiles, ruohan is fond of neither brother.
jin guangshan is the only boy in a family of daughters. all of the jin children are spoiled, and many of his older sisters made it a point to spoil him rotten. his father being elated that they finally have a boy to inherit the clan dotes on him and gives his boy anything he asks for, pardons any misgivings, and creates an environment that caters to his son's every whim. when he meets his future wife at the behest of his parents, his response is lackluster and despite being a beautiful boy, crushes her hopes with the weird faces he makes in response to being introduced to her.
qingheng-jun is every bit as quiet and intimidating as his youngest son grows up to be. he's a leader that gives off a cold and impenetrable aura that makes it extremely difficult for anyone to challenge his logic as sect-leader-to-be, but really quite enjoys it when someone is bold enough to challenge him. he's not the Most expressive person, but he is more than wangji. he just finds that there's not much worth having an expression over, certainly not in excess, and is adept at handling his tasks with the same grace his eldest will exude.
lan furen is a non-cultivator who was raised on horseback, traveling between the central plateaus and the eastern oceanfront. she's adept at living off of the land and while she isn't an inherently kind or social woman, it's easy to see that her heart lies calmest racing across the continent under the wide expanse of sky. she's an excellent marksman and roams with a band of for-hire escorts that keep cargo and people from harm on long treks. despite being a non-cultivator, she probably has the budding of a strong golden core that just isn't focused on in her daily life.
yu ziyuan is a girl about as demur as any other when she's sent to yunmeng jiang as a means of formal introduction to jiang fengmian. she's doll-like in both appearance and personality, but her chaperone comes with gifts from meishan yu to help push along the betrothal process. the gifts in question are resources forged through meishan yu, crystals refined in such a way that can react to and absorb spiritual power, much like how zidian functions. her meeting with cssr turns her bitter towards the prospect of marrying jfm but she is too proud and too filial to let feelings disrupt the process of their betrothal.
#mdzs#screaming into the void#thinks wistfully about ziyuan & jin furen being young women who were Very Good at the cultivation they performed#cangse sanren#yu ziyuan#jin furen#jin guangshan#jiang fengmian#wen ruohan#so many ocs#qingheng-jun#lan furen#wei changze#nie zongzhu#xiao laopo#nie furen#cw: implied rape#qourmet: aga
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
The first time I saw her, she was sitting on the wharf, her legs crossed under her, a book propped open on her lap. She was wearing a knitted cap over her long, thick black hair, and a chunky cream scarf was wound around her neck against the cold air. I wondered how long she’d been sitting there. It seemed too cold to be reading outside. It was a strange place to sit and read. There was no beauty in the spot today. Low, grey clouds hung over the choppy, cold water, and every now and then a few icy spits of rain came splattering down. It was a damp, unpleasant sort of day, the sort of day you only ever got in the British isles. A grey sky over a grey sea, a landscape permeated by grey. I stood and watched her for a while, curious. She only moved to turn the page, flipping it over with small, delicate fingers. After a while, I shook my head and walked on, leaving her to her strange pursuits.
The next time I saw her was a watercolour day, a brief respite from the rain. A watery sun threw its warmthless light over the soaked green fields. The sky was washed out, as if all the colour had been wrung out with the rain. She was still wearing the knitted cap, but she’d traded the scarf for a battered looking hoodie. She wasn’t reading this time, just looking out over the water, a vivid slash of colour in the otherwise pale day. I was in a hurry, and didn’t linger.
The next time I saw her, curiosity got the better of me. She was lying on her stomach on the end of the wharf, heedless of the damp that must have been soaking through her clothes. Her hands were held out over the salty waves, and I had the perverse impression that she was trying to summon some creature of the deep, some malevolent water spirit to wreak revenge on her enemies. It was a fanciful notion, but something about the intense set of her features unsettled me.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I approached her. She showed no sign of surprise at my voice, as if she had expected me to speak to her. Perhaps she’d just heard my footsteps on the boards. She stretched downwards, leaning even further over the edge of the wharf until her fingertips could brush the surface of the water, as if I supplication. I resisted the urge to grab her by the back of her shirt and pull her away from the edge, lest she fall in.
“Waiting for him to come back to me.” She said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. I considered that for a moment. It would be logical to assume she meant someone on a ship – a father or brother or lover? Sailed away to fish, or fight, or travel? And yet somehow, with the way she peered so intently into the depths, I had the odd feeling that wasn’t it.
“Who?” I asked. She didn’t look up, her long dark hair nearly touching the water as she exhaled, stroking the water again.
“Oh, he doesn’t have a name. But he’ll be here, soon.” She said, and then she did turn to me, a wide smile curving her mouth, “Soon.” She repeated. Something about her expression filled me with a sharp, nervous jolt, and I found myself turning and walking away before I even knew what I was doing. I was unsettled to my very core with no idea why.
According to the newspapers, the girl – her name was Emily Rosscore – disappeared that night. No one ever saw or heard from her again. I never told anyone of the conversation I’d had with her. I was only half convinced I hadn’t imagined it. The official line was that she’d fallen in the ocean and drowned, but for some reason, I could never quite bring myself to believe it. I hoped whoever she’d been waiting for had come back for her, and swept her away from this humdrum world.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Birthdays
Regulus never really cared for his birthday, always stuck spending it at number 12 Grimmauld Place. The first time June 25th arrived after he ran away, he was surrounded by people who genuinely cared about him, his lovely boyfriend smiling brightly at him, encouraging him to blow out his birthday candles. The cake they sat upon was baked by Euphemia, who assured him it was no fuss. Sirius was there, passing him a terribly wrapped gift and tearing up, finally able to give him something without fear lingering in the distance. Barty and Evan showed, wreaking havoc, popping balloons, and making a mess. Regulus gave Sirius and James nervous glances, but they assured him Fleamont and Euphemia didn’t mind the commotion. Remus got him a new journal, to replace the one he lost when he left. Marlene and Dorcas picked out a new set of pens for him, saying he should really give up on quills, Marlene giggling behind her girlfriend who knowingly looked at him. Pandora got him new crystals, giving her condolences to the ones he had to leave behind. Lily and Mary got him a book set, claiming he needed to learn the ways of muggle literature. He glared at them but was unable to hide his excitement for very long.
During the small party, the only thing Regulus could do was helplessly smile, occasionally excusing himself to the washroom to cry. He had never felt so cherished, so loved in his entire life. He finally understood why people got so excited about birthdays- it was supposed to be filled with love. When the night winded down, and people began to disperse, leaving through a chorus of ‘Happy Birthdays’ and ‘see you soon,’ James found Regulus sitting on a sofa, looking quite exhausted. A faint smile adorned his tired features, his face brightening at the sight of the other man. James beamed back, pulling a gift from behind his back.
Regulus quietly accepted the small box, gently unwrapping it. He flipped open the lid, finding a slim chain with a sun attached to it. He looked up to James, the other man now holding a similar necklace, a star taking the place of his sun.
“You always call me your ray of sunshine, so I thought you should be able to have a little piece of me with you everywhere.”
“I love it, James,” Regulus replied, tears welling in his eyes.
James sat on the couch beside him, gently taking the necklace and putting it on the other boy. He watched as Regulus wrapped his fingers around it, holding the cold metal tightly in his palm. He moved his arm to wrap his shoulder, bringing his lover in close.
They stayed there a while, Regulus soaking up the love James would supply endlessly. Regulus learned to love his birthday, not because he received things, but because it meant he got to be surrounded by those who truly loved him.
—
My friends were wonderful today. Birthdays can be rough but they make them better. Thank you for reading lovelies. And thank you to my wonderful friends.
#jegulus#james potter#regulus black#sunchaser#writing#fanfic#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfiction#i wish my mom didn't treat my birthday like a burden#I wish my dad was home his birthday is tomorrow#my friends were truly amazing today and I don't know how to thank them#they showed me what real love is#sometimes I wish I could just stay at school all day long#but I also hate everyone else there#today was amazing until it wasn’t#I’m finally 17 though#didn’t think I’d make it past 15 yet here we are#sorry I just ranted in my tags :/#adding this: my sister is amazing and came pick me up and is bringing me with her to town to shop
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
【𝕻𝖞𝖌𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 𝕬 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖚】
(𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 9)
Description: Kiss was the perfect name for the infamous bank robbers who kissed everything goodbye to go out in a blaze of glory. Wreaking havoc on 1930s America, what happens when the chase ends?
♥ Paul Stanley x Reader
Note: Savor the happy parts because I swear to god when I shatter it I will shatter it I will destroy it there will be no trace of it I am going to destroy these people.
Warnings: None for this chapter
𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 10 / 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 8 / 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1 / 𝖆𝖔3
The mountains melted into walls and walls of thick trees. The moon crept from behind them. Stars sparsely dotted the sky. Night painted everything grey. The savory scent of fried spilled in as you bit down. The taste hugged your tongue like an old friend and the tense air melted just like the fries did in your mouth.
Gene delicately ate one at a time while you and Paul hogged down the basket. This was the only time you all had paused singing, though it came out more like a chorus of howling cats. Your hands trembled madly. Paul’s heart thudded like it was blasted from a megaphone. Gene was curled up in the back seat for most the ride. You couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. Those fries crisp taste was bolder than ever.
“Can you believe it?” Remnants of shakiness hid in Paul’s voice as he melted against his seat. “Twenty fucking dollars!”
“I know, right??” You enthusiastically chimed through a mouthful. “I’ve already finished my sandwich—how about you?”
“Same.” Paul groaned.
He leaned over the seat. Gene ate his sandwich like a dainty queen. He brushed some of his disheveled hair back. “Not even halfway done, huh, Gene?” Paul said playfully. A nervous laugh barreled from his lips. You chuckled.
“Y/N,”
“Yes, ms. Simmons?” You said playfully. Paul took your shoulder, stopping you from leaning back. Gene laughed happily.
“I think you should get some rest. You’ve been driving for what, three hours now?”
You let out a teasing scoff. “Why don’t we just pull over?” Paul shrugged in a small voice.
“That would probably be best.”
You pulled down a back road, praying to yourself you’d find the way back out. Paul held your shoulder, watching as the headlights fought off darkness so thick they couldn’t see past the first row of trees. At least Gene finally finished his sandwich!
“So are we leaving the cash in the car?” Gene asked curiously, resting his loosely crossed arms over the seat and leaning up.
“I’d say so.” You pulled over. “I doubt anyone’s gonna’ be coming down this way.”
“You know, we could try and break in a house.” Paul said with a little shrug. “I mean—that went well.”
“Families are always armed.” Gene warned flatly.
“How would you know?” Paul teased. “You’re from Asheville. Get with the.. poor people times?”
The three of you burst into laughter. Paul smacked the dash so hard the sound made Gene flinch. You opened the door. Paul’s door opened. You looked up. Your heart jumped out of your chest. “Oh my god!” Paul looked down at you with a bright smile, holding out his hand.
“At your service.” Paul said in a mock prince charming voice, curtsying.
You giggled, taking Paul’s hand.
“Don’t mind if I do.” You cooed, resting your hand daintily in Paul’s.
He laughed gleefully as he pulled you out of the car, kicking the door shut. Gene climbed out. “So we’re camping?” Gene chimed in. You couldn’t wipe your grin off your face as you gazed into Paul’s starry eyes. He brushed your hair out of your face.
“I guess we are!” His grin shone like the sun as he glanced at Gene.
Paul stuck his hand on his hip. “I guess it’s time we go then.” He purred. You nodded quickly. Your heart fluttered again like it was the first time you saw him. With the dreamy smile sparkling on his lips, you could tell he felt the same way. His eyes fell half shut and his gaze filled to the brim with warmth. You leaned into his chest. He held you close.
Crickets chirped so loudly your ear drums burst. The leaves crumpled as Paul guided you a little ways into the woods. Gene said something about camping in the back seat. Before you knew it, you and Paul laid in the leaves. You cuddled against him, gazing up at the sky through a small clearing in the tree tops. Paul combed his fingers through your hair and down your arm.
The air between you two was like the crisp spring sun. Butterflies drifted in your stomach. You nested your head on his clothes. “Better pray we don’t get trampled by a deer.” He joked, running his hand down to your back. You giggled quietly.
“I pray.” You sighed lovingly, melting into him like butter.
“You’re really something, you know that?”
“Says my everything.”
“You’re perfect as a summer sunset.”
“You’re like a chilled breeze on a scorching day.”
“You’re sweet as maple syrup.”
“You’re soft as powdered snow.”
Paul swept his hat off his head. “I give up.” He joked in defeat. “We should probably get some rest.”
“I agree.”
The two of you locked eyes. You smiled. He grinned. You tapped his nose. He tapped your nose. You tapped his nose. The two of you cracked into chuckles.
“Goodnight.” He whispered, leaning close and giving you a savory kiss on the cheek.
“Goodnight…”
#I'm waiting#fingers pieced together on the laptop like a goddamn cartoon villain#i am going to destroy them#1930s au#alternate universe#x reader#kiss band#paul stanley#kiss fanfiction#writeblr#weird fanfic
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Triple Kuaidul Cuddles
Description: Kuaidul has found a way to clone himself, much to the overwhelming joy of his partner.
Word Count: 878
AO3 Link if you prefer, though I do mention spoilers for the newest Go Rush episode in the author's note there:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54382198
“My human!” Kuaidul rushed into the living room with a huge grin on his face. “I have devised a new way to show you affection!”
I shifted in my spot on the couch, gazing at Kuaidul curiously. “What’s this new way?” I asked, perking up a bit. A grin like that on his face would probably set off alarm bells for anyone else but to me, he just looked so gosh darn adorable.
Kuaidul held his arms out. “Observe and be amazed!”
Flashes of green light appeared beside him, forming his outline and becoming more and more solid and before long, the pieces of light were two fully formed Velgearians bearing Kuaidul's exact appearance.
My jaw dropped. “U-uh… Uh…”
I got to my feet and stared at the now three Kuaiduls, my heart racing in my chest. Their three pairs of big glowing green eyes seemed locked on me, and their fluffy blond hair was spiked and shaped in all the same ways that his always was, as though they were exact reflections pulled straight from a mirror.
“Pretty impressive, right?” Only the middle Kuaidul, the original one, spoke, maintaining that big goofy smile of his.
“W-what are you planning with this?” It was a struggle to get the words out through my racing heart and flushing face.
All three Kuaiduls took a step closer in perfect unison. I barely bit back a squeak.
“I want to cuddle, of course!” The middle Kuaidul exclaimed, his hands held up in an excited almost victorious sort of manner.
“W-with three of you?” A shudder wracked my body at the thought and it was a struggle to breathe now through the immense heat coursing through my body, primarily my face.
The middle Kuaidul let out a dark chuckle. “Did you think these copies were just for show, my dearest?”
There was a smirk on Kuaidul’s face as he gestured to the two copies. The copies didn't move in unison this time however: they stood completely still, though they all bore Kuaidul's signature smirk right now.
“S-so…” My breath caught in my throat. “They're both… Physical?”
All three Kuaiduls nodded.
I let out a nervous chuckle. “I-I don’t know if the world is ready for three of you wreaking havoc…”
“But you are my world.” Kuaidul’s response was immediate, and more soft-spoken than his usual verbose demeanour.
“I take it back!” I hopped in front of the middle Kuaidul, taking his hands and gazing up into his eyes. “I am ready to let you and your copies cuddle with me!”
Kuaidul let out a happy squeak. “Yay!”
Three pairs of arms were around my shoulders and waist in an instant, making me squeak in surprise.
“Sh-shouldn't we…?” I rested my hands on one of the six arms, still barely able to move. “O-on the couch at least?”
“Yes!”
I gasped when I was swept off my feet, laid out over the three sets of arms as though they were a bed. Apparently it took three Kuaiduls to lift one human.
“I shall cuddle my beloved human on the couch!” Kuaidul exclaimed, his smile as bright as the sun as he sat down.
“Y-you know I have a name…” My voice came out in a mumble as I was set in the real Kuaidul’s lap, making my face flush further.
Kuaidul nodded. “Indeed!”
The three sets of arms wrapped around me again, one from behind and one from either side of me, all feeling so familiar and safe despite being so overpowering. Kuaidul on his own wasn’t strong enough to physically hold me in place. However, with three of him practically surrounding and smothering me with affection, it seemed easier than breathing.
“Then call me by my name,” I grumbled, closing my eyes and leaning into a hand that rested on my cheek.
Kuaidul brushed his cheek against mine, leaning close to my ear to whisper. “Hawkie.~”
I flinched, a gasp cracking in my throat. “N-not THAT name!”
“Yes, that name, Hawkie,” Kuaidul teased.
Three fingers from three different feather-soft hands stroked my chin in unison. I leaned my head back into Kuaidul's shoulder, grunting a little as I pressed my cheek against his.
“You are so…” I let out a contented sigh. “Much… Kuaidul… My Kuaidul… You’re wonderful…”
“Do go on, dearest,~” Kuaidul insisted, the fingers of one of his many hands stroking my short hair.
There was a note of longing in his voice. It was obvious what he wanted and I was more than willing to provide it.
“You're amazing, Kuaidul.” My voice was soft but filled with affection. “I love you more than there are stars in the universe. You’re the light in my darkest times. I will love you now and forever.”
A small sob slipped out of Kuaidul and I winced when I felt his tears dampen our cheeks.
“Kuaidul?” I couldn’t turn around and look at him with all his arms around me so I settled taking one of his hands. “Was that too much?”
“No.”
Kuaidul pressed his lips against my cheek. Then the other. Then my forehead, gripping my hand tighter. I sighed again. My body and mind had sunk into a sea of pure soft Kuaidul mush and it never wanted to leave.
#yugioh go rush#ygo go rush#go rush#kuaidul velgear#self insert x canon#canon x self insert#fluff#fanfiction#fanfictions#writing#silly
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Moon and the Stars CH3
Pairings: Jake Lockley/Reader, Marc Spector/Reader, Steven Grant/Reader
Warnings: mild swearing, a few laws broken
Word Count: 5.8K
Steven presses the button for the crosswalk and waits for the symbol to appear, he ignores the blatant disregard for safety that you and Layla seem to share as you stride on through the busy street – not the cross section but the actual street. You turn to look back at him when you realize he'd fallen out of step with you and Layla, who didn't pay any mind to either of you breaking off from her brisk walk.
Expecting the poor British man to be a nervous wreak and looking all around like a lost overwhelmed tourist, you're left dumbstruck when you spot him patiently waiting at the cross section. A few actual tourists have gathered around him also waiting for the little man to tell them when to walk.
You spare a glance at traffic before jogging back up to him, “Did...did you just press that?”
Acutely aware that there are now several families following his lead in waiting for the lights to go, Steven begins to second guess himself at your question. Had he gotten it wrong and Americans had opposite cross way buttons? Nervously he glances towards the post seeing the two options, they did drive on the opposite side over here maybe this was also different.
“Ur...yea?” before he can question himself or even you any more you walk closer to him making a grabbing motion for his hand.
Steven still confused, warily raises his hand to meet yours. He isn't sure if he regrets it as you pull him from his spot on the sidewalk and into the street – tourists gawking and whispering as the two of you fast walk through lanes of traffic.
“We should really just have waited for the signal.” he says as cars speed around the two of you, drivers not even phased by the jaywalking.
It never occurred to Steven to pull himself from your hand, despite the obvious reckless behavior that could get you hurt – or worse. But Jake and Marc haven't stepped in to take control yet so a small part of him, a very small part, insists that you'll be fine. He's never really been one for such optimism.
“Huh? Oh nah, those are for show, don't think they even work most of the time.” You say it like the most natural thing in the world and like it isn't a huge safety hazard, but then there's a pause like you're thinking it over and then glance at Steven from the side of your eye; and he can't help but hope that some sense has finally gotten into you. When you go and ask, “Hold up, do they actually work in England?” , and he is more concerned than he was before.
“What...wait no, yea so they have to work otherwise someon'd get hurt. Ah look there, that guy, 'e just used one.” he points straight a head to a man leaving a starbucks then using the walkway as the blinking stick figure signals above.
“Nope, look at the streetlight my guy, shit's green.”
Glancing up he sees you're absolutely right, and Steven can't fathom for a second how that's even been allowed.
“It must've just broke – I'm fairly certain jaywalking is a crime here too, innit?”
You look to him and give a smile, it's not a beaming bright smile or anything flashy – just a little cheeky grin that's a little too soft for such a mischievous word, it catches Steven off guard and his breath catches in the back of his throat. Then you say, “Did you know your accent's stronger when you're nervous? It's fun, I like it.” Steven feels as warm as the sun right now. But he doesn't have to focus on that for too long when you quickly pull him up onto the sidewalk just as a patrol car rounds the corner.
“ 'sides,” you start as you stare down the cruiser, “if the only punishment's a fine it isn't a real crime.” you turn to face him as you finish the sentiment.
Layla gives an unimpressed look as you both catch up to her, having stopped by the wall of a shop waiting for you.
“Cute rhyme, but I'm pretty sure it can also cause harm and duress to others.”
“You walked.”
“Still a crime. Plus I walked myself you dragged Steven into traffic.” she raises a brow.
“Really reconsidering your bestie status right now.” your complete deadpan gets a laugh from her.
It lightens up your mood, that's been a little glum since getting off the plane. And you can't help but smile at the way her laugh crinkles the edges of her eyes.
Her laugh dies down a bit and she asks, “So, we're besties now? You get attached easily.” She's only joking, it surprises you how easily you're able to read her but she seems to match the energy given. Be up front with her and that's what you'll get back, you'd expect nothing less from your best friend.
“Who else would one: I want helping me find my child and two: actually help me find them with such an out there message?”
“And participate in careless behaviors.” Steven snarks joining the conversation.
It earns him a small snort from you and an elbow to the side from your joined arms.
“Relax will ya', I've got a pretty good lawyer. We get in trouble I'll give you his number.” you joke.
“Just how much trouble do you get up to to need a lawyer?” the teasing lilt falling out of his voice as once again Steven is concerned and nervous. Layla keeps her mirth, the added glint in her eyes lets you know she's curious as well – at least she trusts you enough to be amused by the information rather than worried about it.
All at once you quiet down; your brain suddenly latching onto an idea and you reach for your phone.
“Actually that's not a half bad idea, Imma give you Foggy's number. He and Matt are literally the only people I trust to help with this situation if we get split up.”
“That did not answer my question.”
“Steven, we're getting serious again, focus.” Layla looks to you, “Do they already know or would we have to fill them in?”
You make a half baked gesture, “Eh, I kinda ran off with like a handful of texts for Matt to watch my apartment, but honestly you could feed them any story and they'd run with it.”
“Any chance they'd be like uncles and the kid would seek them out?” she has a really good point but at the same time if the kid was with either of them he was probably the safest he could be. Or like second safest.
“It's possible, I'll ask...” your voice dies once you realize that this is the first time in two days that you've thought about your phone. Meaning for two days you haven't charged it and it's dead.
In your defense you'd been hopping around so much that the thought never struck you.
“Ok...we've got to back burner that idea, my phone's dead. New plan if we get separated just head over to the Nelson and Murdock Law firm, 's over on the Hudson can't miss it.” thinking on it you rephrase, “Well you can but unless you're in Jersey keep walking you'll find it.”
“You aren't good with directions are you?” Layla asks as she googles the firm, finding their address and number before texting both to Steven.
“Not really, just walk and I end up where I need to be.” noticing the look Steven gives you, a look that can only be described as a mother hen, you squeeze his hand and flash him a smile.
Watching the interaction Layla notices just how relaxed Steven is despite everything that's happened in the past eighteen hours. Normally he'd be gripping the hems of his sleeves and playing with the frayed edges, unraveling them even more. It may be your hand hold preventing that but Steven isn't worrying his brow or even casting nervous glances over his shoulder like a skittish dog every two minutes.
She wonders if it has something to do with Jakes's assessment of you on the plane, she may not know much about the man but he was incredibly keen at judging someone's character even with just a glance. But he'd actually spoken to you. It'd been shocking to see how he actually imitated the conversation too – normally he gives anyone besides Steven and sometimes Marc the silent treatment. Even she wasn't above the silence, then again his whole purpose was to protect the system that included emotionally and she understood where her history with Marc put her in Jake's book. But seeing how fast he gravitated towards you all but confirmed her speculations on you being a non-threat.
Now seeing how relaxed and at ease Steven is in your presence she wonders how much is Jake's influence. Even if it's subconscious. It'd be easier to tell if Marc were fronting, but the man hasn't been out since Khonshu pulled Jake to the forefront. And Jake left to rest shortly after the end of his movie, right before you could ask him what he thought of it. He hadn't given her the chance to ask for his input, he probably did it on purpose so she'd have to weed out your intentions on her own.
The bastard.
Shaking off the thought Layla looks your way before asking, “So, where to first?”
“I'm not sure, he could literally be anywhere in the city. In the child care training the EMTs said you want to check the life threatening areas first and leave places they're likely to be for last – don't waste time on where they could be if they're potentially in danger.” You start thinking of where a good place to start would be when you hear Marc mutter quietly – most likely trying to keep it to himself and not in the dickish way where he'd hope you'd hear him, “Child care training? I thought they were a librarian?”
“I am, I also take care of large numbers of children during events, I needed to take a few courses for safety.” You respond smoothly rolling your eyes, missing Layla's confused gaze and Steven's body going stiff beside you, “Now I'm thinking the worst places for him to be currently are detained at a precinct for being an unaccompanied minor or at 177th Bleecker Street. While I'm not entirely sure on the likely hood of him being there, they're the most dangerous locations we've got in the city. We should keep out eyes peeled though, something's always brewing in Hell's Kitchen.”
Steven looks over at you before glancing to the small postal box he can see Marc's reflection in, the man had just roused from his forced slumber and was just as shocked as his alter to find out that you could hear him.
“Pretty specific address for someone who doesn't have much information.” he calls out testing if you'd truly heard him that first time, that that wasn't some weird coincidence.
Your head snaps up as you process the direction that voice came from, it came from behind Layla but Marc's body was still next to you connected at the hands. Now that you thought about it you hadn't felt a shift of energy like when Jake took over last night or when Steven was given control after Jake finished his movie on the trip over. Looking to the system's body you're greeted with a very sweaty and grimacing Steven – his eyes flickering over you trying to gauge your reaction. It takes everything to peel your gaze from him and turn your focus past Layla where you see the sterner face of Marc in the glass of the yellow post box.
The small jump and tightening grip on Steven's hand was all the proof he and Marc needed to determine you could in fact see and hear the reflection. They'd call out for Jake had he not explicitly stated unless the city was on fire or they were dying not to wake him.
Layla turns looking to see what has both you and Steven shocked, frozen like two deer in headlights, only to find nothing.
“Am I missing something?”
Straightening up to look at her then whipping your head around to Steven, then the news bin and back to Steven, “She can't see him?”
“Ah, yea. Most normally don't, we're kinda in our head.” Steven comes off a bit harsh as he tries and wraps him mind around what's happening.
“Then that's actually Marc in there?” Steven manages to nod his confirmation.
Layla glances back at the news bin before facing Steven, “They can see Marc?” even being an avatar hadn't granted her access to being able to talk or see an alter who wasn't fronting.
Though she's only talking to Steven you both mutely nod.
A nervous laugh falls from you lips as you manage out a small, “And hear him...apparently.”
You all are thinking the same thing, how – and that leads to the same suspicion that a certain avain headed individual is to blame. Somehow granting you access to be privy to all of his avatars regardless of who is fronting in order to better watch and protect them in his absence. It feels like an severe invasion of privacy and despite you not asking for the ability or even knowing about it you feel dirty having used it.
Dropping Steven's hand, something he didn't seem aware was still happening until he found himself missing the warmth, you ran both hands along you jeans as you tried to rub off the crawling feeling your skin had. Seeing your distress Layla steps in with a welcomed distraction.
“You said 177th Bleecker Street, right? Why so specific, hide out for a trafficking ring or cartel?”
Shaking your head you stop rubbing you hand on your jeans, instead curling your fingers into fists in repetitive sequence. Pushing past the major ick factor.
“It's Strange's 'sanctum', he believes he has domain over time and the multiverse. Someone were to break one of those even accidentally could get on his bad side quick.” you explain shaking your head and walking forward past the stumped avatars.
“Multiverse? You can't be serious.” Steven says following you with little hesitation.
“Why wouldn't I be? Granted I don't know much about it but it's plausible that Strange is already keyed into the situation which will make things so much more fucking difficult than they have to be.”
Layla's quick to surpass Steven and falls into step with you, “When you say Strange, you mean Dr. Strange like the wizard right? Weren't you hoping for another witch, why won't he work?”
“Ugh, he's a pretentious self righteous asshole that's why. Not to mention we aren't on speaking terms right now.” you groan and glare off to the side, effectively scaring off a few passers by and getting a wider birth for your trio.
“Bad break up?” she jokes.
Catching the joke you make a gagging sound that has her smiling and shaking her head. She finds it weird how you wouldn't ask for the help of someone more local, someone who seemed more powerful than two downed avatars. But she'd trust your judgment on this, if anyone can understand things being more complicated than they seemed it's Layla.
Steven and Marc spoke in harsh whispers behind you, though it was even more distracting that if the spoke normally – your ears were subconsciously hyper focusing to pick up their conversation at random intervals. When you glance at them over your shoulder you see Steven's at least opted to talking into his phone where Marc is probably visible in the darkened reflection. It's weird knowing you're able to hear the conversations between the alters that no one else seems to be aware of. You can't help but wonder how the system was able to get used to their way of communicating.
After six blocks you notice Jake's reflection joins your party in the windows of passing shops. He must look like Steven's actual reflection because no one pays attention to the fact that he's keeping his gaze set heavy on the crowd of people around you. Searching through it and you can guess why.
“Steven hun, if you could stop looking like a frantic tourist we can ditch the thief following us.”
Steven sputters his response to Marc, caught off guard by what you said.
Acting like she's focused on the flustered man Layla chances a glance to the sea you've found yourselves among. Not spotting anything she goes back to walking causally beside you.
“How do you know we're being followed?”
“Heard Terkisian close his shop door a few steps after we passed, only does that if someone's being obvious about being up to no good. But wasn't clued in that it was us that got tagged until Jake started glaring into the crowd.” you nod to the reflection forgetting for a moment that she can't see the alter.
Marc's voice is quick to cut through as he takes control of the body, “How are we sure it isn't someone after the kid?”
You stop walking and move into a little alley, Marc and Layla wordlessly following after.
“We don't but there's a chance we could loose them by-” your voice gets stuck in your throat as a hand clasps your shoulder.
The weight pressing down on you feels suffocating and intense. You don't even need to turn to know who's just touched you. Self appointed protector of the multiverse “Dr” Strange.
It's only when you start to struggle out of the grip that Marc and Layla spring into action. At least they tried to – before they can making it two steps forward a portal opens in front of them.
“Will you all relax, I just have some questions.”
His words have the opposite affect on you and you begin to thrash harder.
“Who are you to tell us to relax, where the hell'd you'd come from?” Marc yells.
Layla is quick to jump to your defense, “If you just want to talk, then let them go. They're clearly agitated and I don't think that's good for any of us.”
With a roll of his eyes, as though you three were the biggest inconveniences to him – and you probably were, he releases you. You're sent scrambling to the wall and pressing your back into it as harshly as you can to fight off the meltdown you feel about to bubble over. You are too aware of the beating of your heart and what the blood rushing through your veins right now feels like to think straight.
You hated being touched and to be grabbed so suddenly and by him of all people it felt so much worse. Bile threatened to rise from your throat as your chest harshly heaved. It was a good thing you were using the wall to ground yourself, you were bound to get light headed if your body kept this up.
Strange looks at the three of you with skepticism in his eyes, Layla and Marc get slightly more concerned looks directed their ways. When no one offers to say anything more Strange turns back to you.
“I believe we've been overdue for a chat.”
Collecting your breathing for just a moment you're able to spit, “I have nothing to say to you.” with about as much vitriol as you can muster in your current state.
Briefly you consider calling upon Khonshu but doubt he'd see this as much of an emergency.
A frustrated huff leaves the wizard and he raises a hand, no doubt about to summon another one of his stupid portals to transport you somewhere isolated anyway. That is until an explosion erupts somewhere down the street. All four of your heads whip around to look, Marc looks like he's about to run towards to commotion and Layla's hand darts out to grip his bicep – catching him before he can execute whatever half assed plan he was even considering.
Strange looks back at you and says, “I'd tell you not to move, but you wouldn't listen. We will be talking soon.” He floats off leaving you there.
You glare after his retreating form, watching the faint wisps of energy swirl around him before converging on his hands as he start is incantations before even seeing the damage. Typical show pony.
Pushing yourself off the wall you don't look at Layla or Marc for a moment as your head spins. Reeling you can't help but face the wall and give it a series of short kicks while letting out a shrill ear piercing shriek.
Layla is already over by your side when you fall to your knees, out of exhaustion. She does her best to soothe the remainder of your outburst, surprisingly does it well for someone who doesn't know you. After you quiet down she asks, “Was that explosion you?”
You shake your head, holding back tears as your skin burns. It feels like it's trying to rip itself apart, the pain is worse on your shoulder where he touched you.
“We should probably get moving then.” She says it gently, urging you to get up with her so the three of you can leave before Strange thinks to check if you'd still be there.
“Ye, it was probably whoever's been followin' us. Dunno how to feel 'bout them makin' a distraction.” Jake says as he keeps an eye out to the street, watching as people gauge the situation. Tourists are easily spotted running away while the locals are busy checking updates on subway delays and traffic figuring out how much of their day just got pushed back.
Layla looks over to Jake as she waits for you to compose yourself, “Think they know about the kid?” Jake just shrugs in response to her question. Not really sure one way or another – best to assume the worst that they do though.
“Even if they do, Strange doesn't he wouldn't waste his time being cryptic if he knew who was out there. I'd really like to keep it that way.” you say standing up on shaking legs.
It's a wonder Layla has made it as a vigilante with her bleeding heart. You can tell she wants to comfort you, it's written in those warm brown eyes – that without really knowing a thing about you she wants to help. Surely that'd be a liability out in the field. And the thought is further driven home when you answer her unasked question with a quiet “I'll be fine.” and a hand resting on her forearm. The small smile she gives you settles your warring emotions.
“You guys ready to hit up the precincts? You say striding over to the entrance of the alley.
Layla and Jake wordlessly follow you, Layla's attention set on you certain that Jake will be vigilant enough to keep an eye out for the crowd and the wizard should he try to show up.
You're outside of the 25th Precinct station when Jake and Layla stop walking as you went up the stairs. Turning back when you noticed they weren't with you you motion for them to follow. Layla;s frown nearly matches the scowl on Jake's face as both follow you in.
The blonde at the reception desk looks up from her computer, “Hmm, oh hey you.” She calls out with a flirtatious lit drifting off her tone. “Long time no see, the boys got you runnin' arrands for them again? She lets out a good natured laugh.
“Hah, they wish. Nah, I'm actually here 'cause one of the kids at the library mentioned their brother ran away – wonderin' if your boys found a seven year old wandering about?” you bend to lean on her counter a little.
Her mouth sets into a tight frown and she sends a glance towards the bull pen, “Now you know I can't be sayin' … I can not disclose anything, not to a civilian.” She reaches out to run a hand up your arm and you lean down to hear her whisper, use to this game.
“No runaways or orphans have been radioed. Try Coney and the...the” her words slur a bit as you bring a hand to twirl the lock of hair, blocking her lips from the bull pen as a few officers glance your way before going back to their conversations. “There's a new spot we've been finding kids, one of those...oh would you cut that out.” she lightly bats your hand away and you let her snickering, “It's on one of the I dunno what to call it but that pier thing tourists like to use to take photos of the bridge.”
You snort, “Oh the 'look I've seen the Queensboro Bridge in person, also can I tell you about my trip to New York' observation deck.”
It's her turn to let out a huff as she rolls her eyes, “It's a fucking bridge what's there to see?”
A voice calls out from the pen, “Marnie, quit flirting and get back to work.” the exclamation gains a chorus of laughter. Ones that leave Marnie's face looking as though she's smelled something foul.
“Well, I'll get out of you hair.” her expression softens at your words.
“Suga', they don' mean nothin' by it, 's a little teasin' 's all.” her brown eyes drift over to Jake and Layla, apparently seeing something she doesn't like with the two she leans in again hand smoothing down your arm to your hand before tapping twice.
A small smile finds you face before you break out into a grin, “It's fine girly, I'll let you get back to work. I'll be back at the library in a week or two. Drop by?”
Looking back at the two behind you she worries her lip looking back at you, “Better give me a damn good recommendation.”
“I know an excellent picture book.”
That catches the officer walking in by surprise and she snorts before rushing past you two.
Marnie smacks your arm, “You can leave now.” she says nastily.
Laughing you pull Layla and Jake out of the precinct, letting go once you all hit the top step.
“Well that was a bust, but I'd say the top eh...ten? Places he'd be in the most near death danger are off the list. Gotta be a plus, though she did mention that new hang out spot for runaways, think he'd head there?” you were writing in your notebook, crossing things off and adding the new location.
“Not sure but it doesn't feel like we're getting anywhere. How do you find someone you know nothing about?” Layla pauses then locks eyes with you, “Yeah wait, actually how did you find me?”
You blink owlishly before holding up your necklace in between your thumb and index finger.
“Divination. And before you ask this is what happens when I try to locate the kid.” much like when you set about trying to find Layla you set your intentions to find the traveler only instead of pointing in one direction it was spinning clockwise, counter, clockwise, counter and so on nonstop.
“No clue what it means, all I do know is this method is useless in tracking him.”
Layla's mouth sets into a harsh frown, this was turning bleaker by the minute. Jake on the other hand seemed to take the drawbacks in stride. Clearly you weren't hoarding resources, if anything you'd probably exhausted a lot of your talents before rushing off to grab Layla, who you thought would be the solution to your problem, not just another variable in the equation.
“What about contacts, ya got anyone else like Marnie?” he asked.
“Not really, I mean there's Foggy and Matt. Matt was supposed to keep an eye on my place for me so maybe he ran into the kid.”
Jake rolls his shoulder getting a crick out of his neck, “Anythin's wroth a shot at this point.”
You all seem to agree on that front. It was a bit of an argument on how you should get there though, everyone was pretty tired of walking around, you'd suggested an uber which Jake shot down because he doesn't do well when someone else is driving, his solution was to rent a car but you didn't find that fiscally reasonable, plus you'd be spending too much time filling out paperwork. When Layla suggested the subway Jake vetoed it on price while you gave a half assed excuse about it taking longer than an uber potentially more given any delays.
“If we rent a car, we won;t have to have this argument every single time we relocate.” was Jake's winning statement and exactly what led to you three at a Hertz center.
Once the paperwork was settled Jake ushered you and Layla into a white Nissan Pathfinder.
“Christ dude, did you have to choose a minivan? What's the gas mileage on this thing?” you ask sliding into the back.
“Shut up and buckle up. Steven's doing enough complaining about 'petrol' for everyone.”
“I haven't heard him.”
“Lucky you, I can feel him lecturing me in my own head.”
You shake your head with a laugh as you wait for Jake to start driving. Meanwhile Layla chimes in with a few complaints about the subway route.
“I just don't see the point in a city having it if everyone is so opposed to it. Like does American public transport suck that much?”
“Yes.” you and Jake reply simultaneously.
But you at least defend your position, “And I'm not against it, my card's just expired. Given their,” pointing a thumb in Jake's direction, “patron, and both your vigilante status I figured neither of you would be cool with hopping the turnstiles.”
“...that why you got a lawyer, fare evasion?” Jake stares at you from the rear-view mirror.
Without looking up, “Still just a fine if I get caught so not a real crime.”
“Why don't you just renew your card?” Layla asks turning in the passenger's seat to look at you.
Sighing, “Because it...it's just the one thing I still have from 2018. I know it's stupid and I should move one but I missed five years, five years I can't get back. All my belongings and my home were gone so when I got back all I had was this stupid metro card to prove who I was. I didn't have my wallet on me or any family that was waiting here for me.”
It's a tense moment before Layla starts to apologize, “I'm sorry I didn-” you cut her off, “You couldn't have known. I'm mostly fine...it's just a hang up I still have.” you exhale hard on the last word.
The car ride falls silent, and you think it'll stay like that until you get to the law firm until Jake speaks up.
“Steven was snapped too. He's more use to blackouts though.” He said it so casually like it wasn't the biggest deal in the world that one of the body's inhabitants was yeeted away for five years.
“What? You – is that why Marc left...wai...Oh my god.” Layla sits in her seat looking down into her lap thinking over the bomb that Jake just dropped. She'd always suspected the Jake and Steven just hadn't been around for those five years but finding out only Steven was dumbfounding.
You have no idea what that must have been like for Jake or Marc, or even Steven you all haven't really had the chance to get to know each other. But you still find yourself saying, “That must have been terrifying loosing a head mate like that.” The car falling back into silence for the rest of the drive.
Jake inhaled sharply as his knuckles turned white from the overbearing grip he had on the steering wheel, so tight he's probably left indents in it. You had no idea, neither did Layla, hell no one but he and Marc had any clue as to how much Steven's disappearance took on the system. Marc had blacked out the first few weeks after the snap, he'd always thought it had been from stress even after Jake officially introduced himself. Never had he even thought that Jake had been fronting and trying to figure out how their calm headmate had been snapped but left them, hollow and in distress. Steven had been made to retain some innocence in Marc's life, a coping mechanism to try and form needed attachments that neither he or Jake could make in their distress.
While Marc assumed Steven had been formed first, having been aware of him near instantly, it was actually Jake. After the funeral Jake had been confronting helping Marc compartmentalize his emotions to move on. When the abuse started Jake actually started coming out to be the punching bag. But Jake was just a child himself and when that got too much for even him their brain gifted them Steven. Steven had formed much like Jake in those first weeks talking to Jake about this or that and suggesting what activities they should do. Most times arranging the order of their LEGOS. After a bit Jake took second seat and would cofront with Steven in charge of the body just to get some peace and quiet.
Those small moments of peace were the best parts of Jake's childhood. It didn't mind that Steven had thought him to be an imaginary friend at the time and stopped talking to him. He enjoyed his small moments with Steven even after the boy didn't actively need him during his time fronting.
So it was Jake who was hit the hardest by Steven's disappearance. The alter had been something of a little brother in his mind and it nearly broke the system again until they'd heard about the snap. Then Jake could only feel useless and hopeless that nothing he could've done could have changed anything. He felt like he'd failed protecting Steven, protecting the system. Failed the entire purpose he had been literally made for. Khonshu had a hard time reigning them in after that, Jake being even more volatile than normal and Marc unable to front for longer than a few hours. Until Layla came into their lives, well Marc's life.
Jake had been bitter about her entering their lives, but wouldn't say anything or stand in the way of Marc's happiness. He'd already failed one alter and he'd be damned if he failed another. It would be a lie to say that when Steven came back he wasn't relieved when Marc made the call to leave her. Their system was complete and there was no need to have her around anymore. Which was further proven after her failed relationship with Steven as well.
#The moon and the stars#marc spector/reader#marc spector x reader#Marcspector/reader#steven grant x reader#Steven Grant/Reader#Stevengrant/reader#jake lockley/reader#jake lockley x reader#JakeLockley/Reader#Moonknightfanfic#moonknight fanfic
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm dying to see you, my friend
The ever familiar scent of salt seasoned air tickled the inside of her nose and left wind swept kisses upon her cheeks as she had found herself a leaning place upon the starboard side of the ship. Often, Nhea had taken an airship to and from the Mists but with this journey she had opted for a traditional way of passage as she had anticipated it may be her last to enjoy the sea for some time. Bent at the waist, her elbows rested on the wooden railing that served as a barrier between the ship’s passengers and the open sea before them. Blue eyes found themselves peering into the deep waters tinged with white upon the crests as they slowly traveled toward their destination of Limsa and once the ship found it’s harbor Nhea stood to sling her bag over her shoulder and depart onto the rickety, creaky, wooden dock.
Many a time in the past few years had the Stargazer made the trip to Limsa from where the Ashen Wolves’ estate had been nestled, though this time had a different feeling to it. This time, she wasn’t sure if she would be going back at the end of whatever adventure she was seeking. In addition, unlike most of trips to Limsa, she was seeking out lands beyond the port city. Not that of untraveled lands nor was it too incredibly far from Limsa in general.
Gridania was hardly a foreign place to her but Nhea rarely spent any time in the area that was now to be her place of residence for the time being. Standing in the ship harbor as the sun reflected off the white paint that adorned the city walls of Limsa, the Miqot’e felt a rising regretful feeling creep into her chest. Was leaving the Mists the right call? Even more so, were the choices she was making upon leaving the best for her? Only time could tell and for the moment she was focusing on calming her nerves over the entire ordeal.
The days leading up to this very one had been full of tumultuous emotions wreaking havoc on her mind throughout every hour of the day and well into night. Despite talking herself up, she was nervous about what life lay ahead of her and although it frustrated her to no end, she found herself missing Eivor. If she was honest, she missed them all. She was unsure where Eivor had left to, what his plans were and if they ever included return to the Wolves or to her, but she wasn’t sitting back idly and waiting to find out that she was just to be disappointed again. Instead, Nhea was deciding to forge her own new path, one that didn’t include him or consistent ties to anyone else for the foreseeable future.
With the ship docked and passengers were ushered in, Nhea watched as the small crowd hurried to find a place within to rest for the journey. The final pause came as she took a short breath, releasing it softly before whispering to herself. “Here goes nothing...time to find you, mother.”
[ @ashenwolves-ffxiv ]
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Drizella Tremaine || 27 || Influencer || Echo Creek
“Oh, of all the stupid little idiots! I'll do it myself! Get away from me!“
✨Biography:
Drizella has been the self-proclaimed better twin since birth, and she makes sure everyone knows it. She was born first, first in her mother and brother’s eyes, and superior to Anastasia in every way possible. It’s not that she dislikes her sister, she’s just better. The only one who didn’t think this was, quite obviously, her father, and maybe that was why she wasn’t as heartbroken as Anastasia was when he died. Drizella was sad, sure, but it wasn’t as big of a devastation to her. Still, when it was clear that Anastasia was set on using her grief to torture their new step-family, Drizella was absolutely there to support her twin and wreak some havoc around their new house. While Anastasia’s motive was much different than Drizella’s for being mean to Ella, it was still just as fun. When their step-father died, it was just another opportunity to make Ella’s life worse, and Drizella couldn’t not take advantage. She and Lucifer were Ella’s main perpetrators when it came to making her do stuff around the house, and when she ran away from home, it was more of an annoyance than anything. The Tremaines tried hiring other maids, but none of them ever stayed around with how cruel the three siblings could be. She’s definitely on the hunt to bring Ella back to the Tremaine estate with Lucifer, and she’s been trying to use her social media following to investigate and find her step-sister.
Anastasia and Drizella started their social media accounts right when they were supposed to go to college, and they’ve been growing their following ever since. Apparently, being twins on the Internet isn’t as common as they thought when they started. Their sponsorships have at least gotten the two an apartment in the center of Echo Creek along with the allowance their mother gives them every month. Some of Anastasia’s ideas are kind of dumb, and Drizella knows that hers are a lot trendier, but she throws her sister a bone every now and then to shut her up. It’s not easy having all of the good ideas in what has now become their full-time jobs, but Drizella knows her sister is trying her best. She also knows that her sister’s old fling, Remy, has been messaging their account, but Anastasia hasn’t been answering any of them, so she doesn’t think it’s enough to warn their mother of yet. Besides, Drizella has secrets of her own, and she knows she could use the Remy drama as leverage over her sister. It’s a fine balance between being business partners, roommates, and sisters with Anastasia, but Drizella has it all handled pretty perfectly, if she does say so herself.
✨Personal:
Species: Human
Sexuality: Bisexual
Pronouns: She/her
Favorite Song: If U Seek Amy by Britney Spears
Big Three: Gemini sun, Libra moon, Leo rising
✨Connections:
Daria Bonney: No one in her family knows, but the two have been hooking up for a bit now. Drizella’s pretty nervous that one of her followers will see the two out in public, so she’s been trying to keep their fling a secret. Daria isn’t as willing, though, and Drizella’s scared her fear of disappointing her mother will outweigh how much she wants to be with her.
Blaise Lumiere: Drizella finds it kind of hilarious that she’s into a chef after just ripping Anastasia away from one, but Blaise is most definitely more successful (and attractive), and that’s her defense. She uses her hookups with him as a cover for being with Daria, and it’s worked well enough for her so far.
Pacifica Northwest: The younger girl kind of reminds Drizella of herself, and she’s the little sister she wishes Anastasia was. They collaborate often with their content, and they keep each other up to date with fashion and the latest social media trends.
Based On: Drizella from Cinderella
Faceclaim: Madelaine Petsch
FC Change: Not Allowed
Availability: Taken
#disney rp#disney rpg#cartoon rp#town rp#town rpg#madelaine petsch#cinderella#drizella tremaine#20s#taken#taken female#nat
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
In the midst of their aquatic haven, the Rubbadubbers found themselves facing an unexpected challenge – a menacing alter ego known as Dark Reg. This sinister version of the once-cheerful mechanical robot Reg cast a shadow over their vibrant world. The Rubbadubbers, including Tubb, Sploshy, Finbar, Winona, Terence, and Amelia, now stood united, with Reg at the forefront, their protector and guardian against the impending threat.
Tubb: (concerned) "Everyone, stay close! We need to watch out for Dark Reg."
Sploshy: (nervous) "I don't like the look of him. He's so… dark."
Terence: (grumbling) "This isn't good. I really dislike disturbances like this."
Amelia: (bravely) "Don't worry, mates! We'll stick together and overcome this."
As tension filled the air, Dark Reg's malevolent intentions became evident. A transformation occurred, a chilling metamorphosis that saw Dark Reg grow into a towering and menacing figure, casting an ominous shadow over the once-tranquil Bathsville City.
Dark Reg: (sinisterly) "Behold, the power of darkness! None can escape my grasp!"
The city's serenity shattered as Dark Reg launched a relentless assault, wreaking havoc with every step he took. Buildings trembled, and the very essence of the city seemed to tremble under his destructive might.
Finbar: (resolute) "Enough of this, I say! We can't let Dark Reg ruin our world."
Winona: (squeaking determinedly)
With determination in their hearts, the Rubbadubbers rallied behind Reg, their true leader. Reg, embodying his role as protector, stepped forward with an unwavering resolve.
Reg: (firmly) "We can't let fear control us. Together, we can defeat Dark Reg."
As the Rubbadubbers faced the colossal Dark Reg, their combined efforts showcased unity and bravery. Reg, true to his nature, displayed an unexpected source of strength, standing as a beacon of hope against the overwhelming darkness.
Tubb: (encouragingly) "We've got this! Let's show Dark Reg what we're made of."
Sploshy: (determined) "I'm ready to take a splash at him!"
Terence: (gritting his "teeth") "It's time to put a stop to this madness."
Amelia: (optimistically) "Get ready, Dark Reg! We won't back down."
With synchronized determination, the Rubbadubbers launched a coordinated counterattack. Reg's unwavering spirit and leadership ignited a renewed sense of strength within the team.
Reg: (commanding) "Let's show Dark Reg that the power of friendship and unity can triumph over darkness!"
Their combined efforts proved formidable, challenging Dark Reg's malevolent reign. Amidst the chaos, Reg's leadership shone brightest, reminding everyone that even in the face of adversity, courage and solidarity could conquer any foe.
Dark Reg: (roaring) "You may resist, but you can't defeat me!"
However, the Rubbadubbers' unyielding determination began to shift the tide of the battle. With each passing moment, Dark Reg's strength waned, his malevolence faltering against their unity.
Reg: (defiantly) "We won't allow darkness to consume us. Together, we are stronger."
As Dark Reg's attacks grew feeble, the Rubbadubbers seized the opportunity. Reg, channeling his leadership and inner strength, delivered a final blow that shattered the darkness, causing Dark Reg to disintegrate into a dissipating mist.
Tubb: (victorious) "We did it! We triumphed over the darkness."
Sploshy: (exhilarated) "What an adventure! We truly are an amazing team."
Terence: (grudgingly impressed) "I must admit, we make quite the effective team."
Amelia: (grinning) "Dark Reg didn't stand a chance against our unity."
As the city's tranquility was restored and the sun began to illuminate the skies once more, the Rubbadubbers stood united, a testament to the power of friendship, courage, and determination.
Reg: (smiling) "Remember, no matter the challenge, we can face anything when we're together."
Winona: (joyful squeak)
In the aftermath of their triumph, the Rubbadubbers returned to their lively, bath-time escapades, holding onto the lessons learned from their encounter with Dark Reg. Their bond had grown stronger, and their world was now filled with an even greater sense of wonder and unity.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
researchchla
ResearCHLA
bootneck12
Raging Transphobe
svetmodrehoovalu
Svět Modrého Oválu
fuck-all-governments
Fuck the Government
02zaby
Zaby