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soobmint · 4 years

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voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

“And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

“We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

“Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

“Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

“How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

“Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

Until his voice was gone.

It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

“Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

“Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

“Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

“Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

“I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

“Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

“Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

“Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

“Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

“No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

“Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

“Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

“I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

“Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

“Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

“Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

“We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

“Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

“Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

“It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

“Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

“You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

“Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

“Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

“What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

“I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

“Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

“I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

“Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

“Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

“I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

“They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine—”

“No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand. He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

“We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

“Where should we set them?” He asked.

You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

“In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

“Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

“No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

“The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

“Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

“I said, why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

“That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

“Well, what’s the issue then?”

“You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

“You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

“I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

“How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

“You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

“No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

“What do you mean?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

“W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

“You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

“It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

“Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

“Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

“Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

“Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

“Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

“And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

“Should we run away?”

Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

“Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

“I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

“How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

“Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

“I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

“What did I say?”

“Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

“Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

“Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just . . . thought I heard someone.”

“Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

“Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

“When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

“And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

“No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

“No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

“Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

“Yep. No answer.”

“Taehyun?”

“Nothing.”

“The professor?”

“Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

“Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

“Hey, we said we were starting over.”

You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

“What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

“It was—”

“It was real pretty, kid.”

You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

“If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

“Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

“What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

“Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

“How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

“First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

“Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

“Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

“Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

“Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

“Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

“Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

“Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

“What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

“My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

“I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

“No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

“I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

“What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

“It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

“Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

“Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

“No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

“How about Beomgyu?”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

“A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

“It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

“Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

“I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

“What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

“There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

“Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

“Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

“Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

“I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

“Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

“Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

“Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

“Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

“Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

“Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

It was your soulmates voice.

You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

“Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

Beomgyu was your soulmate.

Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

“I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

“Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That you’re my soulmate.”

He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

“So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

“I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“Should we run away?” He asked.

This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Hello! Im glad i made it on time for request! T^TI would like to request a chishiya x female reader. Where the female reader is strong and intelligent and chishiya just basically falls in love with her. He tries to get close with but apparently reader doesn't live in beach she lives in her own homemade house. So chishiya tries really hard to find her.

Of course, here you go! 🥰

Search | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya

Summary: Chishiya searches all through Tokyo to find you, who he met at a game and fell for instantly.

Warnings: swearing, somewhat creepy behaviour from Chishiya, violence

Word Count: 2.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: sorry I closed requests for so long! They’re open again now for a few days so please send in anything you want me to write! ❤

The dark streets of Tokyo echoed the sounds of the wind travelling through the trees. The silence that filled the atmosphere was deafening, leaving Chishiya to nothing but his wandering thoughts that pottered so carelessly through his head. The occasional cry of a crow kept him grounded, always bringing him back to the reality that was in front of him.

The young man was taking yet another attempt of finding the peculiar and alluring figure that he had encountered at many games. No one had ever taken his interest as much as this, and even if they had, he would’ve given up at finding them for the fact that they live in the huge empty wasteland that is Tokyo. Any nook and cranny could have the chance of being your home, but Chishiya was determined to find you. He didn’t have anything else to do anyway. But now that he’s taken interest in you, he finally has something to work towards rather than just waiting around to die at The Beach.

He strolled effortlessly through the Shibuya crossing, recognizing the place from when he was first thrown into the game, always returning to the large open area to use as a safe space. Even after being in the game for as long as he had, it still felt foreign to see not a single soul crossing the road, very unlike usual Tokyo.

The only source of light he had to assist him was a small torch he took from The Beach and the occasional game sign pointing to some late running games. He felt unsettled every time he entered an area where no light was available, and the silence didn’t help.

“Tch,” he scoffed to himself, rubbing his sleeves over his eyes to keep them from dropping from how tired he was. He had been at it for weeks, not even getting the slightest clue where you stayed in the huge city.

“This is ridiculous, as if I haven’t found her yet.” He was becoming more and more frustrated as each night dragged on. All he wanted was to meet you in person that wasn’t in the registration section of a game, where he wasn’t even sure either of you would leave alive.

After being saved by you during a hearts game, Chishiya developed an irrational attraction to your selfless and strong demeanour. He admired the fact that you managed to look after yourself and others at the same time, always thinking of an intelligent way to make sure that everyone survived. He was impressed and taken back, for he had never met or encountered anyone like you.

Chishiya strutted over to a large building near the Shibuya crossing that displayed a screen pointing towards a game. He had to sit down for a while, he had been walking for hours and his legs were beginning to hurt. He shivered and pulled his hoodie tighter around him as he walked through the entrance of the building to find that place nearly trashed all through. Obviously some people had attempted to search the building for resources to assist in their survival.

He slowly made his way further into the building, being mindful of the shards of glass and other debris that scattered the floor. The last thing he wanted was the trip of something and ended up with sharp glass shards in his back.

Chishiya entered a large room that almost seemed untouched. Much unlike the other rooms, this room was clean and no furniture was turned over. He frowned, wondering why no one had bothered to search this room.

“Huh, must have missed it,” he answered his own question. He walked to the centre of the room and sat on a small brown couch that was placed there, rather inconveniently. The layout of the room was very scattered and random resources such as water bottles and empty cans of beans and tuna were laying around on every surface.

The cans of food looked awfully too clean to have been left there for long. The leftover specs of food remaining appeared fresh, and the smell of tuna was far from smelling off. Chishiya moved his tired eyes around the room, trying to find any more evidence of someone being there recently. His eyes locked on a small pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, all bunched up together to create a comfy nest almost.

The pile seemed a bit too lumpy to be holding only blankets, so Chishiya’s curiosity got the better of him and he stood slowly to make his way over to the makeshift bed. He thought maybe someone was hiding some more food underneath it, probably planning to return some other time to collect them.

He kneeled down next to the pile, scanning the small space. His eyes widened as he saw the blanket move, slowly lifting up and down incredibly slightly. He almost stepped back in shock, but decided against it and lifted his hand slowly to lift the duvet.

He grasped the soft material and carefully pulled it back towards himself. His breath became caught in his throat when he locked eyes with what was underneath it.

There you laid, peacefully sleeping and tucked into yourself. Your legs were folded and against your torso with your arms lying lazily next to your head. You looked so vulnerable and small, especially since Chishiya just found you hiding from the world underneath a blanket. He assumed that you covered yourself so if someone was to find your hiding space, they wouldn’t see you and potentially hurt you.

Chishiya couldn’t help himself. After seeing you become so aggressive and resilient in games, seeing you so calm and at peace pulled at his heart strings. He knew it was wrong, intruding on you while you weren’t aware he was even there, but he knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

His heart hurt from the sight of you holding yourself in a tight ball, obviously being anxious that something would happen while you were asleep. He pouted and tilted his head, examining you closely.

“So pretty,” he whispered. But just as the words left his mouth, his stomach dropped when he saw your eyes snap open and lock directly onto him.

Before he could even think, you had swung a fist at his face, punching him square in the jaw, making him yell in pain as he backed away while squatting on his legs so he could get up and run if he had to. He held his face in his hands, trying to reduce the pain throbbing in his jaw.

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, standing up out of your bundle of blankets. “Fucking creep! Piss off!”

Chishiya groaned and glanced up towards you, noticing that you were now standing over his meek body on the ground. You held a small knife in your hands, pointing the sharp object towards him in case he made any sudden movements.

Chishiya’s usual smug smirk crawled onto his face, making your frown more as he stood up slowly, hands held up in surrender. “Wow, feisty,” he chuckled.

Your angry expression softened and you lowered your weapon slightly as the bright moonlight shined through the window and painted across Chishiya’s face. You immediately recognized him as the young, white-haired man that always assisted you at games. But what was he doing here?

“What do you want?” you glowered, taking a few threatening steps towards him. Chishiya raised his eyebrows, but kept his composed behaviour as your weapon pressed lightly on his chest, making him wince slightly as the sharp point pierced his skin through his white shirt.

“Rude. I don’t even get a hello? A how are you? All I get is a knife in my face,” he smugly responded. “You did that to yourself by watching me sleep like a fucking stalker,” you hissed, leaning your face closer to his.

“I guess so,” he sneered. “By the way, I wouldn’t kill me if you were considering it. Trust me, I’m not on my own.”

You felt ridiculed by his calm behaviour, hating how he didn’t seem threatened by you at all. Out of all the people you’ve scared off, why did this skinny, short man have more nerve than anyone else?

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you reassured. You pulled back your knife slightly, but still kept it drawn in your hand in case he tried anything. You may have met him a few times in games, but trust was very hard to earn from anyone in the Borderlands.

“So, Y/N,” he started. “I’ve been searching for you for a while now. I’m glad I’ve finally found you.”

You scowled at his words. “Me? What could someone like you possibly want from me?” You watched as his pink lips curled up into a smirk, making you cringe slightly.

Chishiya turned away from you and strolled back over to the brown lounge in the middle of the room. He leaned comfortably on the back of it, facing you again. You had lowered your knife, feeling reassured now that he was further away.

“I’ve noticed you,” he started, staring holes into your eyes. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “You know how to handle yourself in games, and I can’t help but become a little immersed in your methods.”

The way he spoke gave you a headache. He sounded too smart for his own good, making you question if he was bluffing just to trick you into believing that you were needed, when he would just use you then leave you in the dust.

“Yeah? And what about it?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chishiya looked down to the ground and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I would very much appreciate it if you joined me,” he suggested. “I am staying at a hotel called ‘The Beach’, but everyone there is an idiot. If you are willing to put your trust into me, I promise that I will help you collect all the cards and escape this place.”

You kept your gaze on him, trying to see any sign that he may be lying. If he was lying, he was incredibly good at it.

“What’s the catch?” you asked, fiddling with your knife.

“There is none. Only the fact that I’m asking you to join forces with hundreds of idiotic, drunks that act like children.”

There was a moment of silence before Chishiya continued.

“But I can reassure you, if you stick by me, I will be sure to keep you safe and alive.”

You rolled your eyes at his promise. “I don’t need your protection. Look at you, you’re skin and bones. I can take care of myself.” You turned back to your pile of blankets, lifting them to search for your radio that had become lost in the sheets during the night.

Chishiya thought to himself, trying to think of something to say that would convince you to come back with him to The Beach. He couldn’t downright say that he was in love with you, because it would probably scare you off. If he wanted to have a chance with you, he first had to gain your trust. But that was deemed difficult when he was the shady character that he is.

“There’s food and water at The Beach,” he spoke up, making you freeze in your movements and turn back towards him. “There’s comfy beds and personal rooms, as well as allies and guaranteed protection from militants. If you really want to survive, you’d be best there more than out here by yourself.”

You stared at him before glancing around the room, eyes landing on the scattered cans of food and random dirty clothes everywhere. You would admit, you were lonely, and hungry, and cold.

“What makes me sure I can trust you, Chishiya?” you challenged.

Chishiya stepped away from the sofa and walked over to you, making you stand up from your position on the ground so you were at eye level.

“Because you have no other choice,” he smugly stated, “You’re lucky enough for it to only be me to walk in here and find you. Just think about it, if I can find you, so can a group of murderous people, or starving people, or people desperate for cards.”

He had a good point. You hated that you were falling prey to his manipulation, but if The Beach was even slightly better than the dirt hole you were inhabiting, you were interested enough to at least take a look.

“Okay,” you mumbled, turning away from him and leaning down to pick up the small backpack that laid next to your bed. “I’ll come, but if I find out you’re lying or trying to have me killed, it’ll be your head hanging from a lamppost in Shibuya.”

Chishiya smiled at your threat, not being affected by your violent words. “That’s the kind of talk that will get you killed Y/N,” he warned, turning around and making his way towards the entrance of the building. “Keep that up, you might be the one losing a head.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at his warning.

Chishiya smiled to himself as he stepped out into the cold night air. He could finally relax, knowing he found you and would now be able to keep you in his sight at all times. Even if he had to tell a few fibs to make you come with him, he believes it was worth it, as now he could stay by your side.

He knew it would be a work in progress to earn your trust eventually, but he would make sure that you always trusted him over anyone else.

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland scenarios #alice in borderland one shots #aib #aib imagines #aib imagine #aib one shots #aib scenarios #chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya imagines #chishiya imagine #chishiya one shots #chishiya scenarios #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 125: Grawp

They'd finally got their wish for fresh air, the Marauders all glanced around to find themselves back in the Forbidden Forest even! Nobody else seemed particularly happy with these circumstances, oddly enough.

Regulus found himself in some long ropes thick as he was heavily pinning him down, Evans went to help Smith disentangle Longbottom from a gnarly bush, and his brother, Lupin, and Potter immediately cheered in excitement and went to the very end of the barriers' reach as they raced each other to find out where exactly in the massive Forest they were. It wasn't comforting that none immediately knew what could be in the vicinity, nor that it was so heavily dark only the barest of a high noon sun trickled in through the trees to light the ground.

Peter came jogging over to help get him out though, offering him a hand up, and then hefting one uneasily in his hand as he eyed the trees he'd been between.

"I don't like this," Peter told him quietly. "We've never seen anything like this in here."

"Maybe, it has to do with Hagrid?" Regulus struggled to offer something well out of his depths, he'd only been in here a handful of times with some older students on a dare. They'd come across gnomes, a few bowtruckles and alizors before a nearby roar in the gloom had made them all decide a tactical retreat was best. "He keeps all kinds of mad things in this forest, right?" Was Fluffy running around here somewhere still? Or that car? "Harry and him are close, maybe he's domesticating something new, would explain why he's always so injured."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Peter agreed, "actually it makes a lot of sense, if he found something on his way back from the giants. I wonder if that's why Madam Maxime-"

Peter stopped with a squeal of surprise as Potter appeared from behind the tree and grabbed at him, laughing raucously before trying to pull on his arm. "Come here Wormtail, you've got to see this! Remus thinks he found signs of a giant, in this forest, can you believe the nutter! Padfoot's actually agreeing with him, they're both mad!"

Peter looked back and beckoned for him to follow, but Regulus just watched as he was pulled a bit along to something in the dirt that had interested the lot. His brother had the book in hand now with a very smug expression as he told Grawp was sure to be the name of a giant, it didn't make much sense as a chapter title anyways.

Regulus certainly didn't think it was funny at all and was sure they were all joking, but he didn't laugh as he just kept watching. Potter was clearly trying to put the whole instance behind him as he jumped around laughing with abandon about the Weasley twins' stunt, and while Peter hovered and laughed along too, every time he made to take a step back towards him Potter grabbed him and asked some new question, and Peter looked so deliriously happy, he didn't even seem to register they kept interrupting his answer.

It was all as much of a show as Lily Evans was putting on, he was absolutely positive. The three of them were huddled very uneasily in this forest they had no familiarity in, she kept sweeping at her hair in that agitated way of hers and still had such a faraway look in her eyes from thoughts she couldn't escape it was a wonder the words weren't glitching out in Sirius's hands from her lack of focus even as she was visibly trying to participate in her friends' quiet whispered conversation.

Something had to give, they couldn't all keep pretending to go about as normal until they got out of this, could they?

Then Smith surprised them all by spontaneously yelling across the clearing, "oi! There's not an Erumpent in here, is there?"

"Err," Potter grinned awkwardly, but his brother said, "yeah, why?"

She grimaced, that clearly hadn't been the answer she was hoping for.

"Not this far out here," Potter supplied, watching Lupin mutter quietly for a moment before he patted a massive tree. "They're closer around in meadows with soft, short patches of grass."

"Fantastic," she sighed, edging a little closer so they weren't yelling quite as much. Longbottom took an automatic step with her like they were joined at the hip while Evans stayed in place with, one could almost say, an amused expression. "Err, you are joking about that giant, right?" She asked.

"Actually, Regulus made a point-" Peter began, but was cut off by Potter once more.

"Well, just because we've never seen one, doesn't mean it's not possible," he teased.

Smith and Longbottom were actually drawn into the argument though, now the five of them were all debating each other back and forth for the pros and cons of it all.

"Err, Prongs," Peter tried one last time, but he barely came up to his shoulder, and the gesture of even tapping him to get his attention probably came across far more childish than he really meant it to.

"Yeah, one sec Pete, I don't care how many books you've read Longbottom!"

Peter sighed and walked off, and James didn't stop him this time, he had more than enough attention now.

"You win some you lose some," Peter told him with a shrug as he went back to Regulus's side with a smile that for all the world was still trying to brush off the instance.

Regulus still had half a mind to go over there and kick that idiot in the shins along with his brother just for good measure. At least Lupin was looking back and forth and seemed to realize anything had happened. He couldn't seem to get Sirius's attention any better though, they were having so much fun sparring with these two new points of view.

Alice even stopped to take a step back to admire her work, even if it hadn't quite gone how she'd intended, and Frank barely noticed he was so involved now. She felt a little bad Pettigrew had gone off again, but that was nothing new, and this would be proof enough to her boyfriend he could get on with them just fine as they kept lobbing the merits of a giant living in this forest in total ease like they were all in an advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The book hung in Sirius's hand almost as if he'd forgotten a Quidditch game had been mentioned coming up. Even Remus was still adding in, and Sirius kept parroting his points and nearly whacked his friend in the face several times he kept agreeing with him even if he remained arguably on the outskirts of the argument like she was letting herself drift off to be, smiling indulgently as well.

He didn't seem to mind, chuckling and catching her eye with a knowing look even as he still watched his last friend talking to Regulus once more with a concerned expression.

'Sorry,' she mouthed at him.

He just shrugged and made a 'what can you do,' gesture to the loud-mouthed idiots, now including her own boyfriend, and it was lovely to see him get so invested in this and not even seem to realize Lupin was an arm's length away.

"You baffle me," Regulus told Peter sincerely as he watched them with a hint of longing.

"I've been called thick plenty of times, that doesn't surprise me," Peter shrugged, leaning against a tree and hands deep in his pockets.

"No," Regulus frowned, "I meant, like, you can be plenty knowledgeable and I certainly listen to you when it came to Lupin, I don't understand why you don't make them see that."

Peter looked just as confused as him now. "I know how Moony works, he's not difficult, it's not remotely the same thing."

"You still don't think you're good enough to be friends with them though," Regulus deduced.

"I don't think they need me," Peter corrected with a heavy sigh, rather than admitting he was also right in some regards as well. His practical magic was leagues behind everyone's, even Regulus's he was sure. That memory had proved to him enough he'd be lucky to pass the most important of his OWLs next week.

Regulus shoved his hands in his pockets and couldn't think of anything to say back, he lived that feeling as well, Sirius had made it abundantly clear he didn't need him a long time ago.

"Well, we'll just see then!" Potter finally ended the argument of all things, his smug look even seemed just a touch less insufferable than usual even as he grandly pointed back at the book. "Go on then Sirius, tell them how right we are!"

His best friend was eager to do just this, while Frank shook his head in exasperation but hadn't been able to come up with a new point of attack anyways and they'd started repeating themselves a bit, best to get to the facts then.

"A few more bouts of that and Smith will have us all holding hands," Peter grinned.

"She's too nice to be an Auror, she'll get eaten alive by the first Death Eater she tries to haul in," Regulus huffed, still glaring a bit at Potter and his brother.

"Think that's why her and Longbottom made such a good team they were targeted?" Peter uneasily reminded, trying his best to not think up who had been in that party, like a certain Black cousin. "I'll bet you anything Longbottom's shrewd mind behind that wand can produce some nasty hexes, and she got them to confess on the spot." He laughed like it was supposed to be funny given the outcome.

That only served to remind Regulus of his own impending death in this future. He still remembered just as well as Peter who had done the deed to those two, his earlier fears of thinking no one would miss him suddenly had a garish light on them as he wondered if Bellatrix had targeted them in revenge? She'd been very chummy with him over the past holiday, those little hints of his future while she'd held her arm lovingly made a horrible amount of sense now as he realized she must already be a Death Eater, Mother and Father would be encouraging her to draw him in like Sirius never had.

He swallowed convulsively and fought back the childish urge to ask Peter to tell him it was all going to be okay, he didn't see how. According to Sirius himself it hadn't even been Aurors to do him in, but some lackey of the Dark Lord's, maybe even Bellatrix herself. He couldn't manage to do anything without someone hating him.

Peter seemed to realize his mistake all on his own, patting him gently on the back and whispering, "hey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"Why not?" His voice cracked, he probably sounded like such a baby. "Everyone knows that's what's going to happen to me anyways."

"No it's not!" Peter looked horror struck now. "You said it yourself, we can change!"

"I don't see how!" He snapped, like a bitter child throwing a tantrum he was sure, still glaring at Potter. "I'm not like you, I don't get to go back to Gryffindor tower and be done with this when I get back, I don't know how to just fade off and go unnoticed to even be ignored by anyone! They all have expectations for me."

Maybe he could just run away from school and live in this forest until he was of age, surely Sirius and even Peter would love to show him how to do that. Maybe bring him out homework to do from time to time while he lived off berries and still show him magic if he ever crossed their mind.

"Regulus, I-" Peter tried, but was once again interrupted by the timely attention of his mates.

Sirius had been watching out of the corner of his eye and seen something happening between these two that didn't look all light fun anymore, and compulsively let himself pounce at the chance to see if he could be of help to smooth this over, he knew both well enough he was sure he could. "Merlin Wormtail, what kind of scary stories are you telling him about this place?" He laughed as he jogged over, Prongs barely noticing he was so smug about Hagrid bringing Hermione and Harry into here and his point was about to be proven.

"Shut up Sirius!" Peter's patience finally burst so loud everyone whipped around to look at him and he didn't even notice. "Merlin, can't you ever ignore me when I actually want you to!"

He put his hand on Regulus's shoulder and steered him away as far as they could go, blood pounding in his ears with such force he hadn't a care the scene he left behind, barely waiting until he was sure he was back out of hearing range before telling Regulus. "Hey, listen. Your arsehole friends don't get to tell you what to do any more than mine do! Or your parents, or anyone! You're the one who told me this future isn't set in stone, and I'll bloody move to another country to stop those idiots from dying if I have to! I won't be used like that again by You-Know-Who or anyone. There is going to be a way out of this for us Regulus!"

Regulus had never really thought himself much of an optimist before, and certainly wouldn't have pegged Peter for one before now, but he'd never let himself question much before to even have his own opinion for long, that's what had gotten Sirius into so much trouble in their youth. The idea of his future still terrified him, it wasn't the answer he so craved, but he finally came to the same conclusion he realized Peter had. Nobody was going to give it to them except themselves.

Peter wanted to still be friends with them, he just wasn't sure how he fit in anymore, if he ever had at all. Maybe it was a lost cause he should give up on, he told himself, it would certainly fix his own problem of not wanting James to die, not any of them, even if they did still annoy him, and it wasn't doing him any good to repress that feeling. He looked back and saw that Sirius had taken the book back from Prongs, an unsettling look on his face as he carelessly confirmed there was a giant tromping around in here, Hagrid's own half-brother.

To most it probably seemed uncaring, but Peter knew better, and he did feel guilty for apparently actually hurting Sirius's feelings for once. James and Remus looked just as unnerved, he tried not to feel too smug he'd caught them all so off guard, maybe they'd stop underestimating him now. Regulus stayed by him, chewing on his cheek in that way of his. He'd make a difference in somebody's life if it was the death of him.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #OotP #Marauders #Wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #Lily Evans

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

Paranormal or haunted house with the arkait brothers. A scene where there's just the three of them, and maybe a scene with their partners.

//the spooks

(Prompt from this list)

This had been Silas’s idea. He thought there was no better way to spend the first weekend of October than spending the weekend in a potentially haunted farm house. He didn’t want to do it alone, so he invited Connor and Richard, who then invited Hank and Gavin. Which brought them to where they were now. Unpacking the cars and deciding on rooms, well, trying to decide on rooms.

“I’m just saying if the place really is haunted it would be smartest to all be in the same room.” Connor argued, “There’s strength in numbers, you know.”

“Or whatever is here will pick us all off at once!” Gavin half shouted, “Personally, I rather like being alive.”

“No offense,” came Hank’s voice from beside Connor, “I don’t want to share a room with any of you.”

“I second that.” Silas agreed.

“Fine, but if we die tonight I am fully blaming you Silas.” Connor grumbled.

‘No Ghost.’ Richard signed, ‘Just House.’

“Richard says there aren’t any ghosts, its just a house.” Gavin translated, and then chuckled.

“That’s what I said too.” Allen agreed, “It’s just an old house.”

With what they needed for the night grabbed, the cars were shut up and locked and the group headed inside. They set their bags down at the door and split up to explore the house. Gavin and Ricard went up stairs, Connor and Hank took the main floor, and reluctantly Allen and Silas took the basement. The general consensus was that if anything went wrong it would be Silas’s fault.

The basement wasn’t much more than a root cellar, it was small and didn’t look to be finished. The stairs were steep and creaked loudly as they went down. Silas went first using his phone’s flashlight to guide the way.

“Come on Allen. Its fine.” Silas called up the stairs where the security guard was still standing toward the top, “If anything comes for you it’ll have to go through me first.”

“That isn’t the issue Chameleon, I don’t think the stairs are structurally sound enough to hold the both of us.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out.” Silas turned to him with a grin, “Surely the academy has put you through worse paces than a fall down the stairs.”

“Silas if we die-”

“I know, I know, it will be my fault.” He said with a laugh, “All of you have said that at least once. Now come on.”

Allen sighed and made his way down to Silas slowly. Turning on his phone’s flashlight as well when they got to the bottom to help with the visibility. The basement had a layer of lingering dust and there was a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, they found out that it didn’t work via Silas pulling the chord so hard it broke when the light wouldn’t turn on.

“A creature of grace as always.” Allen remarked.

“Shut up. You almost lost to a staircase.” Silas argued.

The basement wasn’t all that interesting, a decent sized empty room.

The main floor consisted of a kitchen, a dining room, walk in pantry, a living room, and a small bathroom. Hank and Connor explored turning lights on as they went, only to find them turned off on the way back.

“Con, are you hitting the lights by any chance?” Hank asked as they walked back toward the living room.

“No.” He said as he turned to look at Hank, “Honestly I thought you were.”

“Connor you have been to my house, if I turn on a light it usually stays on until you turn it off or I decide I don’t want to pay my power bill with my retirement fund.” Hank cracked a smile as he spoke, “Looks like your twin got what he wanted, something is definitely up.”

“Or someone is fucking with us.”

“That is also true.”

They went back to the living room and settled on the couch. They were joined by Allen and Silas shortly after. Silas took the armchair and Allen leaned over the back of it protectively.

Upstairs there was four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Gavin and Richard took their time exploring them. Rifling through the rooms to try and see if they could tell who had used them. Probably not very nice if the old residents were dead, but Gavin seemed to be having fun so Richard didn’t stop him. Just warned him to keep from breaking anything, Gavin froze when they heard footsteps in the hall. Richard poked his head out into the hall to find it empty.

“Anyone out there Nines?” Gavin asked when he had gathered himself enough to put away what he had been messing with.

‘No,’ Richard signed when he turned back around, ‘No People.’

“Creepy. This was the last room anyway so lets head back down..” Gavin suggested, “I’m sure they’re ready to discuss sleeping arrangements.”

Richard nodded and followed Gavin back down the stairs, still checking the hall for anything that could have mimicked the sound of footsteps but didn’t find anything.

They joined the group in the living room and Gavin spoke up, “So there are four rooms, given that Hank wants to sleep on his own, we can have another loner and then decide who is sharing with who.”

“I’m sharing with Allen.” Silas popped off immediately.

‘We Know.’ Richard signed, ‘That Was Given.’

“If you don’t mind,” Connor started, “I’d like to be on my own as well.”

“That settled it then.” Gavin said with a slight smile, “I’m bunking with Nines.”

The rooms were picked and everyone more or less settled in for the night. Silas was out on the back deck having a smoke before bed and he thought he heard someone call his name. He ignored it until he heard it again, it sounded like Connor. He thought his twin had gone to bed, but apparently he had needed something. Silas sighed and snuffed his cigarette heading back inside toward the kitchen.

Richard had almost been asleep, and he heard Silas call his name. It sounded urgent. With a quiet but annoyed sigh he untangled himself from the cuddle monster that was a sleeping Gavin and made his way down stairs in search of his brother.

Connor was in his room reading, doing research on the house. Trying to see if there was a chance that it was actually haunted. A few years back it had been burnt down, the reports said it was arson and there were rumors that a little girl had died in the fire but her body had never been found, She had an open missing person’s file and her mother was still looking even after ten years. He closed his eyes and took off his glasses. He was going to call it a night when he heard Silas urgently calling his name. He rolled his eyes and got out of bed heading down stairs. If Silas was afraid it was his own fault, but Connor would terrible older brother if he didn’t at least try and comfort him.

All three brothers stood in the kitchen in equal states of confusion. None of them had called for the others.

“Good you came down.” All three of them whirled around to come face to face with the near see through form of a little brunette girl. “No one has ever answered me before. I don’t think they like me.”

None of the boys spoke as he looked at them. Connor had a vague idea of who this was, and it didn’t seem like she knew she was dead.

“Do any of you know when my mom will be coming home? She has been gone for a very long time.” She looked on the verge of tears.

“Alice,” Connor said gently, “I know where your mom is, but she can’t come see you.”

“Connor what the fuck?” Silas muttered.

‘Language!’ Richard signed smacking Silas’s arm to emphasize his point.

“Where is she? How come she didn’t come back?” Alice barreled on. “How do you know my name mister Connor?”

“Do you remember the fire?” Connor pressed.

“Yes... somebody told me to stay inside so I did.” She paused for a moment, “Why?”

“You died.”

“Oh... is that why mom left?”

“She misses you. She’s looking for did this to you.” Connor amended.

“I’m glad. Thank you mister Connor.” She faded away, her presence only given away by the sound of small feet running away.

“Okay.” Silas started, “What the actual fuck was that? I was kidding when I said this place was haunted!”

“You turned out to be right though. That was Alice, she dies about a decade back, I read up on it before I heard what I thought was you calling for me.” Connor clarified.

“Fuck this. I’m going to bed.” Silas said as he retreated up the stairs.

‘Gavin And I Heard Child In Hall.’ Richard signed, ‘Baby Feet.’

When they left in the morning Connor paused long enough to tell the little girl goodbye and Richard left her a drawing of a teddy bear. All three agreed not to tell their companions.

#StS short #AHM short #CSB short #<333 #panda has all the answers!#ask panda #ask me any thing #ask event #70 follower ask event

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

tapestry 👑 XXIII

Warnings: dark elements

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The reader welcomes old and new faces.

Note: Alright, so I managed another chapter. I’m working an awful shift that gives me no time before or after and it’s all so depressing. That being said, I think we all sense cummies in our near future as we get closer and closer to the thottening. Anyways. Enjoy. :)

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

masterlist

Rita reminded you of the tutor you’d shared with your sister. He too was silent and stony. His eyes were full of judgment as you struggled over mathematics or some grammatical rule. The greying maid bore the same air of righteousness.

You caught her rubbing the skirt of one of your gowns between her fingers with a dark grimace. You likely felt the same of the satin monstrosities but she had her perception of you and you were certain it was as immovable as she was.

You dressed in a moss green gown and pulled a matching cap over your head as your locks peeked out and trailed into a loose chignon. A gold thread lined the edge of the hat and added a majesty to the attire which contrasted your former grey selection. A golden chain of round loops rested along your hips and sparkled in the lantern light.

The king had left late the night before. The maid was not permitted until after he left. You’d cleaned up the mess before she did. Even so, she did not yield. Her dull blue eyes would not meet yours but found you when she thought you were distracted. Her thoughts were of no matter to you. She was a servant. You missed Marge.

A rap at the door and you drew your attention from the book of poetry. The worn leather cover was soft and folded at the corners. Rita crossed to the door as you prepared to rise. You dreaded another visit from the king but it was not unexpected. Though who awaited on the other side was.

Your mother swept past your father and into the chamber. You rose as she barreled towards you. Her skirts billowed from her round figure; her hips wide set and her bosom heavy, though her shape was not unattractive. She wrapped you up in her arms before you could greet her and kissed your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile as she swallowed you up in her warmth.

“Daughter,” She sang as she held you at arm’s length. “Oh I did miss you. And so much else, it seems.”

“Mother,” You beamed back at her. “You’re here.”

“I did arrive just yesterday.” She replied. She released you and turned to marvel at the king’s portrait. “Well…” She neared it with her hand on her hips. “That is… a lovely painting.”

“A gift from the king,” You stated plainly. “I did not know of your arrival.”

“You wouldn’t.” Your father grumbled as he lingered across the room. “Given your… sojourn.”

“When I left, I did not expect to return to such a mess,” Your mother turned back to you. “I see a different wardrobe but not a different girl.” She crossed to touch the chain at your waist. “Even so, much has changed.”

“Alice?” You ventured.

“The babe is still too young to travel,” She rescinded her hand. “It will be some time yet, but they are both happy and healthy. I did come as soon as the snow cleared. A pity I did miss the trial… I rather liked the old queen.”

“Pretender,” Your father snarled.

“Regardless, Willis, she was a princess still,” Your mother chided over her shoulder. “And I suppose you mean to take her place.” She looked to you and you averted your eyes guiltily.

“Suppose it should happen whether I mean it or not.”

“It is the manner of betrothals.” Your mother comforted as she took your arm and led you to the couch. She sat and pulled you down with her. “We’ve waited so long, dear.”

“I did expect the convent.” Your father remarked.

“Oh Willis, do cease with your vile tongue,” Your mother remanded before once more turning her attention upon you. “I see he’s not changed.”

“I’ve missed you,” You said. “Really, I did.”

"I know you're young, girl, but I know you didn't think I'd miss my own daughter's wedding." She took your hand in hers. "Oh, if the king hadn't been so pious in my time I don't think I'd have your resolve."

"Do have some restraint." Your father reproached.

"Do not act as if you did not encourage her," Your mother countered. "You must've been chomping at the bit when the king set his eye on her."

"Unlike our foolish daughter," He scowled. "You've inspired in her a dangerous will."

"Did you only come to spread your black cloud over us?" Your mother accused.

"I am most joyous at the reunion, dear, but it might not have been." He slithered. "She is fortunate she remains in the king's favour."

"And you are fortunate to be the fool who calls himself her father." Your mother was always quick to mirror his venom. "Oh, dear," She smiled at you, "I hear you've not had your fitting yet. All the better for I'll not have those gaudy royal tailors sewing your train."

"Mother? You'll sew my dress? Will you have enough time?" You squeezed her hand.

"They'll have to wrestle the needle from my hand to stop me." She trilled. "And your uncle has offered to subsidize the dowry. Your father and I are still recovering from your sister's and a king does prove more hefty than a duke."

"The king did offer to waive it." Your father said.

"For a man who values his pride so, you are quick to sell it for a coin." She scoffed. "Oh I do hope you've not been listening to him."

You chuckled softly and lowered your lashes. "You know I've never been very skilled at that."

"As I figured. I doubt we'd be at such an advantage if you had." She winked at you and you hid your snicker. "Husband, if you did come only to berate our daughter I should think you might be more productive elsewhere."

"I did come to extend an invitation," He retorted. "From the king. We have been asked to attend the royal table tonight."

"Oh, very well, so we should accept," She waved him off like a gnat. "Now, do I have you're leave to see to my daughter after such a lengthy absence? I should think I've had more than enough time to reacquaint myself with you, husband."

"Very well," Your father sulked. "But you carry on like this and our daughter shall be a poor wife indeed."

"I carry on like this and I shall enjoy my years to come." She snorted. "Now Willis, do go coddle those lords in council. They do appreciate your pandering more than us."

Your father sneered but said nothing more. Your mother watched him go and the maid eyed her with a measure of disapproval. The doors closed loudly in his stead.

"Now, all you write to me of is needlework," She turned back to you, "And I must hear of your royal escapades from your father, a poor narrator, and from distant whispers of court."

"I truly did not it would get this far," You confessed. Your smile fell as the shine of her unexpected appearance faded away. "I… mother, I fear I might be ungrateful. Cowardly, even. Selfish, surely."

"I know you. I know you didn't want the queen dead. However did you stumble into this?"

She looked into your eyes and you could’ve cried because she didn’t look at you as a machinator or a tool or anything than what you were. She looked at you as a mother upon her daughter; the concern creased her plump face and aged her. You breathed deeply and leaned back on the couch.

“I don’t know,” You said. “I don’t… know. It’s happened all so quickly and I thought I could outrun it all. I thought… Why, mother, look at me. I never thought the king’s interest should last more than a week. That he would quickly move onto the next lady.”

“But he didn’t,” She ruminated. “I suspect he’s rarely been denied a thing in his life and we’ve all just witnessed how far he’ll go to get what he desires.”

You hung your head. “Do you think I am foolish for not loving him back? Not truly?”

“I don’t think that at all.” She said. “My girl, I think you’d be more foolish to love him back, but even I can see you’ve got to find a way to tolerate him if you don’t.” You nodded weakly as your eyes stung. “He’s handsome, surely, and from what I’ve heard, he does shower you with kindness. Why, look at these chambers.” She sighed. “I know these things do not mean love but you must do as any woman must in a marriage. You must find a way to bear it.”

You lifted your head as you searched her. “And when he bears me no longer?”

“Do not let him tire of you,” She urged. “Why, if I can bear your father as I do, you can bear the king. Your father does act as if he detests me but he does also come to me when he cannot decipher his courtly troubles. Make yourself useful in whatever way you can and they will endure the rest.”

You chewed your lip as you weighed her words. It was no different than what you’d heard before from Rose, Barnes, your own father. You were truly trapped. There was no horse fast enough to take you away from here or any prayer loud enough to evoke a miracle. This was it. Your life. Your lot. Your fate.

👑

The king hosted the dinner in his receiving chamber. A large trestle was set up in the place of his usual small table and his desk was shoved aside. You were the first to arrive; your guard escorted you as Hugh bid you come.

Steven waited within his chambers as servants set the table for the evening meal. He welcomed you with a kiss on your hand and lecherous eyes. You could only think of the day before. The stickiness along your chest. You were repulsed by the memory.

"I have heard your mother arrived at last. I think it only fitting we bring our families together." He explained as he clung to your hand. "We will be one soon enough."

"Your highness." You agreed. He looked at you sharply and you quickly corrected yourself. "My king."

He smiled and turned once more to watch the servants at their work. "A spring wedding. The season of rebirth. Fitting, isn't it?" He mused.

"Yes, my king," You agreed as you let him pull you around the room. "Very."

"A marriage in the spring is a good omen." He continued. "My last wedding was in the winter. Hideous affair." He stopped at the head of the table and looked over it. "Though I care little for the ceremony," He turned to you and leaned in to whisper. "I'm more eager for the wedding night."

You smiled and nodded. You licked your lips nervously and his eyes followed your tongue. He hummed hungrily.

He was drawn from his fixation by a sudden disturbance. The doors were already open to allow the servants to pass in and out. A deep feminine voice neared from down the hall and soon filled the doorway.

You looked up to the grey-haired woman with wisps of gold still laced through her strands. She entered with two maids in brown upon her tail. Her rich azure skirts stirred like a storm as she stopped before the long trestle.

"My son," She greeted the king as her decisive eyes found him. You were quick to bow as you recognized the dowager, Sarah. "I am weary of travelling and now you send to me to sup when I could as easily dine on my own and see to you in the morning."

"Mother, it is only a hour's ride to Charmal." His tone mirrored her own exasperation. "I did offer to attend you there."

"The castle is much too small for your court. A den of liars and fools." She ranted. "I never did like being the queen." She quieted suddenly and her eyes fell upon you, frozen in your abeyance. "Is this the one?"

"Yes, mother, this is--"

"Oh yes, I've heard of her." Sarah waved you up with two fingers as she neared. "They said she was plain but I didn't expect this." You blinked at her as she stood before you. "Though she is not entirely unattractive."

"She is beautiful," Steven insisted as he crossed his arms.

"Ugh, you always were the romantic," She shook her head. "No doubt the reason Eleanor met her end, not that she was very pleasant to be around at all."

"Your highness, it is a pleasure to meet you," You offered.

"People say that often but how can they know so soon?" She pondered dryly. "Oh, girl, I do see it in your eye. You're quite irritated by me."

"I wouldn't say that," You replied cautiously as you glanced at Steven. "Merely surprised. Unprepared for our introduction."

"Do not worry about my son or propriety and speak to me straight," She demanded. "You seek to be the new queen?"

"Our betrothal would have it as such though I never sought it out." You said evenly.

"Oh, you did not?" She narrowed her eyes. "And why would any lady not dream of a crown?"

"Because it is more than a crown. Because it entails a heavy burden, a plethora of responsibilities which can never be entirely fulfilled, an obligation of one's whole person which would have the lives of others upon the same brow that wears the gold." The words steamed out and you stopped yourself with a hand to your chest and gulped. She was truly rousing in the worst way. "My apologies, I do ramble--"

She scoffed. "You are honest. And smart. I'd not give anything to have the crown back. Well perhaps I would abide it if it meant my husband should rise from his grave but even then, I do doubt my willingness to wear it."

You were silent as she stared at you. She considered you a moment before she retreated. She walked around the table and examined the cutlery.

"You will hate it. You should know that now. The last queen would tell you as much if her head was still in tact." She said wryly.

"Mother." Steven warned.

"Son." She countered curtly. "I won't lie to the girl. She's young, she's likely been lied to enough." She looked to you again. "This is more than a wedding. More than a marriage. This is everything. A country; a people; life. You will hold more than your own well-being in your hand, you will hold the world."

"Your highness." You nodded thoughtfully.

"And this one," She pointed to Steven. "As much a boy as the one I taught to walk. Impetuous, indulgent, and impulsive."

Steven exhaled loudly as he paced opposite his mother. He was almost growling as he kept his arms crossed and glared at the floor.

"But he is king and if I tell him not to marry you he will be ever more intent on it and so I wish you good luck in this catastrophe." She looked down her nose and straightened a fork. "I shall remain for supper but do not expect me to break fast with you, son. I am too old for all this courtly absurdity."

"Do as you wish, mother," Steven grumbled as he approached his mother to pull out her chair.

"I think I shall," She smirked and sat. "I'll have some wine first. The girl too. She looks like she's in need of a cup."

"They'll serve the wine with the food." Steven huffed.

"I know they will but I am thirsty now," She leaned back and looked like the queen she'd been years ago. "Sit, girl." She ordered as she waved to the chair next to her.

You sat as Steven beckoned to a servant and called for wine. The dowager tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. "So you’re the fawn who fell the great lioness from her pride."

"I did not… I…" You peeled at Steven as he hovered around his own chair and watched. "She did sow her own fate."

"So she did but she was weaving it for quite a long time." She remarked. "I do wonder at the snag that unraveled her."

"I did not wish her harm as I've never wished any harm." You said. "I only wished to be as I was. Insignificant and uninvolved."

"This is court, girl. That is impossible." She snickered.

"So I've discovered. So I shall surely continue to discover." You frowned. "What should I say? You want my honesty but you think you already know the truth. What has happened, has happened. I had my role in it though it did not unfold as I intended.

"A woman has died and I live to take her place. I am a villain no doubt in many minds, in my own even; yours too, it seems." You bemoaned. "Perhaps I should accept that and cherish it. Nurture it until I grow as sinister as you would have me. I'd surely be better off if I did."

She arched a brow and looked between you and her son. You sensed Steven's gaze upon you. "Perhaps you should." She said. "A queen cannot afford to be good, only merciful, and mercy cannot exist without a degree of cruelty."

Silence permeated the chamber. Steven cleared his throat and pulled out his chair. He sat heavily and gripped the arms of his chair.

"Mother, I expect you will cease the theatrics for our other guests." He muttered. "Or you should have your wish of a night alone."

The tension thickened as mother and son glared across the table. Your mouth was dry and your chest threatened to burst. You pressed yourself to the back of your chair and willed yourself into the void. The queen laughed and a servant appeared with a bottle of wine. She raised her glass to the maid and then reached for yours.

"Drink up," She said. "It'll soon be your best habit."

#tapestry #Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #series #au #medieval au #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

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alirhi · 3 years

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random snippet again

as promised, @feralgoblintea here's the (temporary) scene where the two sisters meet for the first time since one went missing as a child

note about the nickname: Rachel's middle name is Miranda; everyone has called her 'Andy' from that since she was a little kid. it's explained in her story, but not in this scene, so I just wanted to explain it here lol

"Your parents are very eager to know where you've been and what you've been going through all these years," the doctor told her, deep voice oddly gentle and soothing. Rachel smiled sadly; his voice reminded her of Amadeus. "Most of all, they want to know that you're alright."

She knew he thought she was crazy. Her parents definitely shared that opinion, which was why she was here to begin with. Still, she couldn't help asking, "And, in your professional opinion, am I?"

He caught her lightly mocking tone and snorted, leaning back in his chair to mirror her pose. "In my professional opinion," he shot back, though the sarcasm left his tone before he even finished his sentence, "you've been through Hell, Rachel. The trauma you've suffered is very, very real. If you're asking, do I believe in demons and portals and time travel, I'd have to say no. But that pain and fear came from somewhere... I'd like you to come back in for regular sessions, if you're up for it; see if we can cut through the fantasy, see past the demons and find the real monsters who hurt you."

"That's why I'm not coming back." She stood, shaking her head a little. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me - I probably wouldn't believe it, myself, if I hadn't lived it - but it's a bit frustrating. What I told you isn't metaphors or delusion. It all happened, and I'm not interested in having someone rip it all apart and try to make me doubt my own memory."

"They call that 'gaslighting' these days."

Startled, the blonde whirled around to face the source of the new voice; a woman she sort of vaguely recognized was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob, smiling at her. After a long moment, her brain helpfully edited the image before her to make it make sense; wild red hair to dirty blonde, violet eyes to mismatched green and blue, face younger and body smaller and more plump. "...Beck?!"

Rebecca's smile widened and she stepped forward with a nod. "Hey, Andy."

"Oh my god!" With a laugh and a delighted screech, she launched herself across the room and threw her arms around her little sister. "What are you doing here?"

Nearly squeezing the breath out of her, the younger woman murmured, "I heard you were back and had to see you. Stand your ground, Andy. Don't let them make you forget or doubt that it was all real. We know the truth." She released her, only to bring her hands up to grip the sides of her sister's head. "Magic is real."

Rachel froze, staring at Rebecca's mouth long after it closed and the two long, wicked fangs that had drawn her attention were hidden from view. "...What happened to you?"

"Not here. I'll tell you everything, but not here."

"Okay." Without so much as a backward glance at the shrink, she followed the redhead out of the office, past their fretting parents, and out into the bright sunny day that made Rebecca hiss.

She cringed and immediately donned a beat-to-hell baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. "Fuck, I hate sunny days."

"You always did." Rachel couldn't help smiling faintly; so many years had passed, more than anyone in the world around them could ever understand, and yet so little about her baby sister had changed.

"Yeah, well... I've only gotten more sensitive to it."

Once they'd made it deep enough into the woods behind the Industrial Park that there was no risk of anyone overhearing, they stopped, and Rachel asked her point blank: "You're a vampire, aren't you?"

Rebecca laughed, gratefully leaning back into the shade of the nearest tree. "Only in our lives is that a casual conversation starter. And yes. Thankfully I'm old enough that daylight won't kill me. It's just unpleasant."

With her own accidental time travel in mind, the blonde asked, "How old are you?" Thirty-seven, she knew, in the eyes of the people around them; to them, Rachel herself had only just turned thirty-nine, and yet both sisters looked at each other with exhausted, haunted eyes millennia older than they could ever hope to make anyone else understand.

"As a vampire, or in general?" She smirked, shrugging off her own question before her sister could answer. "In general is harder to pin down, but I've been a vampire for about six thousand years, give or take a few."

Leaning against a tree roughly opposite Rebecca's, Rachel mirrored her smirk and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was Queen of an entire planet, and then POW and slave on a second, then a fugitive... I managed to send my older daughter home, before I got stuck on a third planet with my boys and little girl. It's been about ten thousand years."

"You have kids?" Rebecca grinned, once again showing those distractingly long fangs. "Me, too! I have two daughters, Madeline and Alice."

"Senna, Kieran, Caspian, and...Cassie," Rachel told her in answer to her unspoken question. She couldn't help blushing as she listed her children's names; she'd since learned what senna was, and hadn't actually given her younger two children names beginning with the same sound on purpose. It had just sort of worked out that way.

"Twins?"

She shook her head. "Caspian's my stepson, kinda, and Cassie was named after-"

Rebecca flinched, remembering. "After Cassie Wade, right? I was so focused on figuring out what happened to you, and then fighting to survive, I'd forgotten she went missing with you."

"She..." Clearing her throat, the blonde squared her shoulders and pulled her strong front around herself like a familiar safety blanket. "She saved our lives; she didn't make it. And, yeah. I named my youngest after her. Anyway, they're all grown, and Kieran..." Jaw clenching, she forcibly dismissed thoughts of her rapist and merely said, "He's my perfect warrior prince. Well, King now. I love them all, and desperately miss Senna, but Kieran, despite his more questionable choices, has a special place in my heart."

Rebecca took her sunglasses off and studied her for a moment before venturing, "Y'know... I literally eat rapists for breakfast."

That got a startled bark of laughter from her big sister, who shook her head. "Even if my boy hadn't already killed him, I doubt his gross, rancid blood would sit well with you. He wasn't human."

The redhead shrugged, smirking again. "Doesn't have to be. I've eaten Fae, elves, one vampire that pissed me off royally..."

"Not such a picky eater anymore, huh?" she teased, grinning. "Was it some badass revenge on your sire or something?"

Laughing, Rebecca shook her head. "Nope, no sire. I'm the OG vampire, babe. The first of the species. My younger daughter, Alice, is the first of the natural born vamps."

"So, wait... You could still get pregnant after you were turned? What?" Rachel frowned, beyond confused. "And how the fuck...?"

"I'm not dead," her little sister explained with another laugh. "Everything's slowed way the hell down, but hasn't stopped. I can't have kids with a human, or probably most Fae, but a certain trickster God..."

"...God?"

She grinned and nodded, though her haunting violet eyes looked sad. "Loki. He's Alice's dad."

"Huh. So the Gods are real." Rachel snorted. "Go figure. And my sister banged one."

"I loved him," the other woman whispered, staring at the ground. She opened her mouth as if to speak further, then seemed to reconsider and closed it again, clearing her throat.

To spare her from some clearly painful memories, whatever they were, Rachel asked, "What's a Fae?"

"Fairy," was the simple enough answer. "Fairies are real, too. Maddie - my oldest - is Fae."

Is she Loki's, too? She didn't dare ask - Loki was clearly a touchy subject - but she was dying to know.

As if she could read her mind, Rebecca, still avoiding her gaze, explained, "I was still mortal when I had her. Her father was Fae."

As the light breeze shifted the leaves above them, making the light dance across Rebecca's ghostly white skin, Rachel finally noticed the scars. At first, they'd looked like tribal tattoos, done puzzlingly in a silvery-white. When she realized they were actually a complex web of ancient scars, she also noticed they covered every inch of her sister's flesh that she could see around her shorts and tank top. Her face was the only place free of the oddly beautiful swirling lines, though she did spot a faint scar on her forehead, running from hairline to cheekbone and through the outer edge of her eyebrow.

"Is Madeline's father why you hunt rapists?" Is he the one who tore you apart?

"He didn't rape me... Technically. But yes, he's the one who scarred me." At her startled look, Rebecca smirked; it utterly failed to reach her eyes, but it was a start. "I can read your mind. I'm trying not to - I find it unspeakably rude and invasive - but when you're actively thinking about me, it tends to cut through my shields. The scars are from a spell he worked on me; blood magic. It's what made Maddie's conception possible, and chained me to him for years."

"Kieran's father was my greatest enemy; Crown Prince of the people who'd been attacking and slaughtering mine. King by the time I escaped." She didn't know what made her suddenly share this, but it felt like the thing to do. Her sister had told her something deeply personal and troubling; it seemed only right to meet candor with candor. Besides, Rachel and Rebecca had been two peas in a pod as children, as close as two sisters could possibly be. There was no amount of time that could strain their relationship. "I was captured in battle and kept as a slave for around a year and a half."

"How did the other three come about?" She smirked again, shoving her wild red hair back off her face impatiently. "Even when we were kids, I'd have bet just about anything that you're gayer than a rainbow, so how do you have so many kids?"

Rachel laughed, rolling her eyes. "Political marriage gave me Senna - born in a dungeon, thanks to me being pregnant during the battle and not knowing it yet. She was smuggled home to her father after she was born. I made a friend in that Hellhole, Emil, and he'd been raising Caspian; he's not his biological father, but that never mattered, just like it didn't matter to me that I didn't give birth to him. That boy's just as much my son as Kieran. We were supposed to go back to my home when we escaped, but something went screwy and we ended up on Achlys, instead, where I met my girlfriend and we all decided to just settle and raise the boys."

"So you cheated on your husband?" Rebecca's grin was teasing - and, thank god, reached her eyes at last! - but Rachel still threw an acorn at her when she said, "You whore!"

"I never saw him again! And he wouldn't have given a shit," she explained with a laugh. "I was, like, his third or fourth wife. And like I said, it was purely political; I was Queen, he was my advisor, he wanted power and I wanted an heir. Enter Senna, who boosted Raziel from random noble to father of the next Queen, and assured that there would be someone to take the reins if I died."

"So..." Her sister began ticking points off on her fingers as she spoke. "Shrewd political moves gave you Senna, you're co-parenting Caspian with a friend, we won't speak of Kieran's origins... How and why was Cassie a thing?"

Rachel shook her head, gaping at her. "A thing? That's nice, Beck. Real nice."

"Gods, you've missed so many cultural shifts, dude." Rebecca shook her head right back, trying not to laugh at her. "Just answer the question, old lady."

"Emil and I, and my girlfriend Trinity, all talked and decided to hell with conventionality; we all love each other, so we'll all be together. Em's my exception, I guess; the only man I've ever been attracted to even after seeing him naked. Our boys were grown, Senna was long gone, we'd made a whole new life for ourselves, so we decided to have another baby. Enter Cassie." Rachel sighed, staring off into space. "And now she's grown, Kieran's back in that awful place trying to turn it around, married to a great girl, Caspian's there with them to help..."

Though she had a feeling she knew the answer, the vampire asked softly, "And your lovers?"

"...Dead. Cassie - Cassie Wade, I mean - died in prison, Trin and Em were killed in the second war." A bitter smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Kieran and Cas are running a third."

"There's always another fucking war," Rebecca grumbled. "I've watched so many of them come and go, fought in two, myself... It never really ends."

#crossroads #claddagh #achlys #rachel o'brien #rebecca o'brien #achlys and claddagh meet

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nazghoulz · 4 years

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The Definitive Ranking of Richard Armitage’s Acting Roles, Rated Exclusively by How Hot I Find Him In Screengrabs

Richard Armitage. As a diehard Thorin Oakenshield fan I certainly have a complicated relationship with him, mainly because I can never decide if I find him inherently hot or not. On the one hand, I’m a hardcore Thorinfucker. On the other hand my gay ass sees a headshot of Mr. Armitage and I’m just like, “Oh, no thank you.” So in order to set myself to rights, I have gone through Mr. Armitage’s IMDB and done a definitive ranking of all his 44 screen roles on there, based completely and arbitrarily on how hot I find him in screenshots. (Thank you to all the hardcore Armitage Fuckers who keep wordpress blogs with screengrabs of his various cameos and bit parts; my respect for you cannot be put into words.) I haven’t seen like 90% of these properties, and I didn’t bother to research them, so these are mainly just gut first impressions. I hope this helps anyone else out there who as confused by him as I am. Enjoy ?

44. Father Quart in The Seville Communion/The Man From Rome (2020) — ??/10

I don’t think this movie is out yet? Idk I haven’t been able to find any stills of him, let alone much information about the movie itself. It’s listed on his IMDB though! And apparently he’s playing a priest...which could be extremely 👁️👁️ if done correctly.

43. Unnamed Naboo Fighter Pilot in Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999) — 1/10

OH SWEETIE NO!!!!! This physically pains me to say this, because I unironically love this terrible movie with my whole heart, but unlike a yung Kiera Knightley’s role (pictured front and center) as Padmé’s loyal body double Sabé, this is probably a cameo that we would all like to forget about. The only thing Richard has to offer is this unfortunate turtle-faced realness. This helmet does him no favors.

42. Man in Pub in Boon (1992) — 2/10

As far as I know this is Richard’s first acting credit on IMDB, and he for sure is working the background extra energy. Go on girl give us nothing! He does have a decent backside though, and it’s better than looking at unfortunate turtle face, so I give this one a 2.

41. Paul Andrews in Between the Sheets (2003) — 2/10

I can’t really articulate why, but I absolutely despise every screenshot I see of Richard Armitage in this role. He is completely unhot, and not even in a way I can laugh at. He takes no advantage of his assets, he has no charisma, no magnetism, no nothing. This is Richard Armitage at his most white bread rando, in a way that makes me actively dislike him. Pbbbbttth. Bad. Throw this whole thing away.

40. Craig Parker in Casualty (2001) — 2/10

I don’t know, it’s like the perfect storm of the gelled 2001 hair, the terrible quarter? eighth? zip sweater, and overall, er, skeezy vibes that he gives off that makes him particularly unhot in this role. Perhaps not as reprehensible as Unhot Paul, but still. I think the sheer boringness of this has to count for something. Blech.

39. Dr. Tom Steele in Doctors (2001) — 2.5/10

He honestly looks like a villain in an early season of Alias, which... well. Quentin Tarantino was cast as a bit-part villain in Alias season one, so take that as you will. But at least he’s compelling here, which is why he gets half a point over Unhot Paul.

38. Steven in Frozen (2005) — 3/10

Get some rest, tall child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends! Also short haircuts do nothing for you, Richard. Styled like this, they just serve to make you look sort of like a sleaze.

37. Peter Macduff in ShakespeaRe-Told (2005) — 3/10

He honestly looks like he could be a guest star in Friends in this one, where he’s a guy named Jason who Ross meets in Central Perk where they find they have a lot in common. Ross introduces Jason to Monica and they really hit it off, but it all comes crashing down because while Jason is sensitive and writes poetry, he also thinks that the Earth is flat. The rest of the episode is trying to get rid of Jason while he becomes increasingly obsessed with Monica, and Ross cannot quite let go trying to prove to Jason that the world is round. Anyway. Macduff Flat Earth Jason isn’t quite as unhot as Unhot Paul, but he’s pretty much on the same level as Tired Steven.

36. Phillip Durrant in Marple (2007) — 3/10

Something about him in this image really makes me want to punch him in the face. It’s huge Peter Parker in Spider-Man 3 energy.

35. Young Claude Monet in The Impressionists (2006) — 3.5/10

I’M LOSING MY FUCKING MIND THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND IS !!! CARNIVAL BARKER !!!!! STEP RIGHT UP TO SEE THE WORST GOATEE IN HISTORY !!! I was actually going to give Yung Claude a 2 but the more I look at this terrible beard the more impressed I am with the boldness of this look, so I had to bump it up to 3.5. Idk. Just look at this. It’s incredible, especially knowing what kind of beard Armitage can grow himself !!!!!!!!

34. Heinz Kruger in Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) — 3.5/10

This is definitely the best looking he’s been so far in this list, but he’s a Nazi in this one, which makes him unsexy on principle. But do I feel a little something when he gets pinned to the ground by jacked Chris Evans with the above look on his face right before he swallows his cyanide pill? Can neither confirm nor deny. They are also truly playing into his inherently sinister bone structure, so I can respect that.

33. Percy Courtney in Miss Marie Lloyd (2007) — 4/10

Even including Yung Claude and Nazi Heinz, I think Nothing Percy is probably the weakest of Richard’s period looks, mostly because he looks like, well, nothing. He certainly doesn’t pull off that top hat like he does in North and South, and the secret to that might be the lack of sideburns. In this one he just sort of reminds me of the asshole fiance in Titanic.

32. Philip Turner in The Inspector Lynley Mysteries (2005) — 4/10

He’s really giving off bargain bin Hugh Jackman as Wolverine vibes here, if Logan’s energy was more “murderer in a Hallmark channel mystery” than “superhero.” Though, given what sort of show this is, that may be the point! Idk, this isn’t the worst. At least he has a decent haircut in this one. Still, I feel absolutely nothing when I look at him. He’s simply royalty-free stock music given human form.

31. Dr. Alec Track in The Golden Hour (2005) — 4.5/10

I could see how this conceivably be sexy in this role, but to be honest, he’s still nothing to me, sorry. He gets some extra points because he obviously worked out for this role and the hard nips through a white undershirt is a commendable look. I whole-heartedly respect Doctor Alec’s thottitude.

30. Daryl in Staged (1999) — 4.5/10

Speaking of thottitude!!!!! This is one cream-faced business boy that I can certainly get into! He looks like the love interest in a pre-Hayes code homoerotic thriller from the early 1930s. I’m sure that’s just because of the lighting and general staging of this production, but hm... demure. Love it.

29. Capt. Ian Macalwain in Ultimate Force (2003) — 4.5/10

Well, he looks like a character from M*A*S*H but with no charisma, or like an extra in The Great Escape who snitches on Steve McQueen to the Nazis. Also in half the pictures I find of him from this he’s wearing this terrible beret, which I know he can pull off because of a role that ranks much higher on this list. Whoever styles this man really needs to pay attention to what sort of headgear they put on him.

28. Epiphanes in Cleopatra (1999) — 5/10

Speaking of headgear, you know what?? He doesn’t look awful here. A solid 5, perfectly acceptable. I think the helmet does a lot to accentuate the sharpness of his face in this extremely bit part, though the eyeliner definitely also helps as well.

27. John Mulligan in Moving On (2009) — 5/10

Mr. Armitage’s characters can really have potential when a production’s stylist allows him to wear scruff (IN A WAY THAT LOOKS NATURAL, LOOKING AT YOU YUNG CLAUDE). However, as it is with John Mulligan in Moving On here, he just sort of looks like a rando? They’re not playing into the inherent angularity of his face, which for me makes it sort of confusing regarding what sort of emotion I’m supposed to feel while looking at him. As it is, I’m just like, “Yup, that sure is a regular human man, right there.”

26. Smug Man at Party in This Year’s Love (1999) — 5/10

This is the face of a man who less smug and is more DRUNK OUT OF HIS MIND !!!! Idk. He’s cute here, I’ll admit. That’s all I have to say about it.

25. John Standring in Sparkhouse (2002) — 5.5/10

I enjoy the bold choice of giving him wavy hair in this one, but I’m not sure he quite pulls it off. It doesn’t look bad, per se, just... he looks completely nonthreatening. Which I guess could be someone’s thing, but not mine. He honestly looks like a knock-off Will Graham, sans dogs and trauma.

24. Gary in Into the Storm (2014) — 5.5/10

I think the thing that really gets me is that this character’s name is Gary. Who on God’s green Earth looks at Richard Armitage and goes, “Ah yes, you do look like a Gary” ??? I don’t think I know of a single non-American Gary, especially since the name Gary only got popularized after Gary Cooper renamed himself after his hometown of Gary, Indiana!!!! It wasn’t really a name for human men before that!!!! I want to live in the alternate universe where Frank Cooper was originally from Albuquerque and named himself Albuquerque Cooper and this character is named as such. Gary. Really.

23. King Oleron in Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016) — 5.5/10

I truly hate how much his facial expressions in these stills remind me of Thorin, considering how bad he looks otherwise. Like his face his fine, I guess, especially since this is the first instance of his full beard. I’m charmed despite myself! Take me to wonderland, O King.

22. Adam Price in The Stranger (2020) — 5.5/10

For as compelling as people call this series, Richard here isn’t very much so imo. But despite my utter lack of interest, he doesn’t look bad per se. He just sort of has that stubbly white man blandness that colors a lot of his more recent roles. Like, at least his bad mid-2000′s styling had character. This is just the visual representation of a vague handwave.

21. Harry Kennedy in The Vicar of Dibley (2006) — 6/10

Gosh... floppy hair, cute sweaters... he also seems to be smiling a lot in this one, which is nice! The only thing I have to complain about is that he looks very much like if Bradley Cooper and Hugh Jackman circa Kate and Leopold had a baby, which may not necessarily be too much of a bad thing, but I can’t unsee it.

20. Sgt. John Porter in Strike Back (2010) — 6/10

Ah, back to poorly suited haircuts. At least he’s a little bit gritter and grimier than we’ve seen so far, and I will say Richard Armitage does look good covered in dirt, as we will see later on. Also he’s got biceps in this one, which, hell yeah.

19. Ricky Deeming in Inspector George Gently (2007) — 6/10

I’M HAVING THE HARDEST TIME RIGHT NOW RANKING THIS ONE BC OF THIS INCREDIBLE LITTLE WHITE SCARF-RIDING LEATHERS COMBO!!! WHICH ABSOLUTE GENIUS DECIDED THIS!!!! EVERY SCREENSHOT OF HIM IN HIS EPISODE HAS THIS!!! Part of me just wants to give Stylish Ricky a big fat 10 because I’m gay and adore the sheer audacity of this look, but I still have to be fair and rank his overall aura accordingly. I think he’s a handsome extremely gay-coded motorcycle lad in this one, but he doesn’t exactly rev my engine, so to speak.

18. Lucas North in Spooks (2008) — 6/10

The tattoos really spice this one up. Luke could have been plagued by the problems inherent in Regular Mulligan’s Moving On styling, but this guy has an edge to him. He has a good haircut and 5′ o’clock shadow, which is something I’ve figured out is integral to Armitage Hotness. I feel like if I got to know this character I could possibly find him sexy.

17. Raymond de Merville in Pilgrimage (2017) — 6.5/10

Speaking of bad haircuts, this one is his undoing. This is almost the perfect balance between full beard and short haircut, which is the only way a short haircut works on this man, but they ruined it with this one! They gave him a bad bowl fade, which completely undoes any inherent sexiness that comes with being a knight. Not even the fact that he’s covered in dirt can turn me on at this point, ugh. Guy of Gisbourne he is not!!!

16. Tom Calahan in Brain on Fire (2016) — 6.5/10

Oh hell yes, WELCUM 2 DA DILF ZONE!!! I’m not super duper thrilled with the looks I’ve seen from this movie, but he seems scruffy and comfy in a way that is slightly refreshing for ol’ Richard. This is certainly the best of his normie looks so far. I’m just sad it took them 24 years to figure out how to style him properly for sympathetic roles in a contemporary setting.

15. James in My Zoe (2019) — 6.5/10

It’s another DILF look, slightly edgier than Comfy Tom but none of that sexy tired energy that we’ll see from Ocean’s 8. I don’t know !! Jimmy here doesn’t exactly thrill me, I think I prefer Tom’s flannels to this sharp bomber jacket/white t shirt combo seen here. Oh well! I am extremely 👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 that he can just casually palm that soccer ball like that.

14. John Thornton in North & South (2004) — 7/10

Alright. I’m sorry. I just don’t find him that hot in this role. Like yeah, he’s got the scruff and the sideburns that work to his advantage, and the setting does make this character inherently sexy, but in some screenshots he screams too much of an aforementioned Kate and Leopold (the best Meg Ryan movie, imo) era Hugh Jackman to me. And if I was particularly into that, I would just watch Kate and Leopold again. I will admit, however, that this rating could be subject to change if I actually took the time to watch this show.

13. Chop in Urban and the Shed Crew (2015) — 7/10

...I’M??? INTO IT??? He’s dirty and scruffy but also has kind eyes.... I feel like this is knock off Will Graham who has blossomed into his own. His run down, grime-covered own. He’s back edging into Bradley Cooper territory, but somehow it works for him in this one. Like, I’m 89% sure it’s the DILF vibes I’ve been getting from the other screengrabs I’ve seen of this role, and this particular flavor of DILF is way sexier than Jimmy or Comfy Tom.

12. Francis Dolarhyde in Hannibal (2015) — 7/10

His Caesar cut doesn’t bother me quite so much in this, probably because he is pretty explicitly playing a villain in a series that doesn’t have any basis in reality. A villain who is ripped, and who can effortlessly throw real Will Graham around. Armitage uses his inherent sinisterness to great effect as the Red Dragon, which is good actually! I think a lot of how hot he is in any particular role really depends on whether the styling allows him to play to his strengths...idk! I’m not usually a huge fan of clean shaven Armitage, but it works for Frank here.

11. Daniel Miller in Berlin Station (2016) — 7/10

As much as I adore this particular look (beard + fade + green army jacket), I have to compromise and give Danny a 7/10 because it seems like the first season they styled him in usual stubbly white man blandness. I’d say screengrabs from s1 are a solid 6, while this might be an 8, so the average is a 7. That’s all I have to say about this!

10. Claude Becker in Ocean’s 8 (2018) — 7.5/10

!!!!! I love him in this role, I about had a conniption in the theater because I absolutely was not expecting him!! He looks perfectly ruffled and scruffy, edgier than either Comfy Tom or Jimmy, which I’m very into. That plus his two borzois (objectively the best looking dogs on the planet) really put Old Claude over the top for me. Thank you, thank you Hollywood stylists for finally figuring out what to do with him for roles as a Normal Man.

9. Richard Hall in The Lodge (2019) — 7.5/10

I don’t know anything about this movie, but it seems pretty spooky, which I’m into. I think Richard is well suited for this sort of horror/thriller role, where his angular features can play into the overall vibe rather than some hapless stylist trying to work around them. He looks like another cozy DILF here but with a bite to him, like someone who would do anything to protect his brood. I mean, he’s teaching this child to shoot! But idk, he also has the potential for Jack Nicholson in The Shining energy, which I also could be....hm... into. Idk. Is this on Netflix??

8. Lee in Cold Feet (2003) — 7.5/10

FUN!!! FLIRTY!!!! OTTER VIBES!!!!! I LOVE THIS, he seems so goofy here, and Armitage doesn’t usually pull off goofy that well! I’ve giggled at literally every screenshot I could find from the four episodes he was in this show, he seems like a real himbo. I’m a huge fan, even if it comes at the cost of dehydration abs.

7. William Chatford in Malice Aforethought (2005) — 7.5/10

Hoo hoo HOO DO NOT JUDGE ME!!!!!!! Maybe it’s just because I’ve been watching the new season of The Alienist and the new dark and gritty HBO reboot of Perry Mason back to back, but sue me, I love the bold choice they made with giving him a pencil moustache here. He looks like a hot Howard Hughes; if cream-faced business boy Daryl from Staged is the young ingenue in the pre-Hayes Code thriller I cast him in, Bill here is the sexy antagonist. I desperately want to hear a perfect Transatlantic accent coming out out of that mouth. This look fucks and I’m sticking to that no matter what.

6. Trevor Belmont in Castlevania (2017) — 8/10

Ah, yes, speaking of king himbos... do me a favor and look me right in the eye and tell me that you wouldn’t fuck Trevor Belmont. You can’t, can you?????? At least 80% of Richard Armitage’s inherent hotness stems from his voice, and you can’t tell me there isn’t anything sexier than thinking about letting that guy loose in a recording studio and letting him say fuck. Look, Trevor may be drawn that way, but it’s the absolute stupidity coming out of his mouth in that sweet baritone that makes me want to be raw-dogged by 100% pure Romanian beef.

5. Dr. Scott White in Sleepwalker (2017) — 8/10

Much like I had intimated when talking about Hot Danny in Berlin Station, this is Peak contemporary normie Richard Armitage styling. I honestly think The Hobbit either awakened something in him, or casting directors finally figured out he looks way good with a full beard. His crew cut even works with his whole look, which is a miracle!!!! I think he should be contractually obligated to have a full beard in all of his future roles, but that’s just me.

4. Guy of Gisbourne in Robin Hood (2006) — 8.5/10

I honestly can’t believe I’m ranking Guy so far up here, but honestly, THIS RULES!!!!!! THIS FUCKS!!!!!!!!! Which is incredible due to Guy’s lack of beard, but I’m weirdly okay with it? Like sure, he looks like he’d probably call me a slur in front of his shitty friends, but he also looks like he could tenderly pound me into the mattress in a way that would have me questioning my commitment to the “no emotions” clause of our clandestine no-strings-attached sex agreement. Anyway. Guy of Gisbourne if you see this im free thursday night. please message me back if you’re free thursday night when i am fr

3. Angus in Macbeth (1999) — 8.5/10

HHHNGHGNHNGHGN HE’S SO HOT.....!!! HE’S SO HOT!!!!! Leather jacket!!! Scruff!! Dirt!!!! Flattering beret!!!!! He’s so hot, and the worst part about this is that this was filmed in NINETEEN NINETY NINE!!!!!!!!!!!! Which means we could have always had this, had stylists and makeup artists PLAYED TO HIS STRENGTHS!!!!! He’s so hot I’m getting legitimately angry. Without scruff and dirt this man is nothing. N o t h i n g.

2. John Proctor in The Crucible (2014) — 9/10

Look, I know I have a type. But... this guy is just so hot, Daniel Day Lewis please step aside!!!! Contemporary theater historians describe John Proctor as a “strong beast of a man,” and... hhhHHOOOGH HELL YEAH!!! HELL !!!! YEAH !!!!! Like, his dick got almost his entire Puritan village, including himself, accused of witchcraft and like, looking at this guy, I kind of get it. I would probably go to war over the raw animal beauty of this horrible dirty, greasy man. Sue me, I confess. I saw Goody Osburn with the devil.

1. Thorin II Oakenshield in The Hobbit Trilogy — 9.5/10

Come on. You knew it was going to be this guy. Look at my icon for christ’s sake. I am completely biased, I cannot look at his pictures objectively. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading, this was a very stupid list.

#rene rambles #this is the worst thing ive ever done tbh #richard armitage

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aph-honk-kong · 4 years

Text

Heaven Knows

In which an abandoned church makes for an interesting conversation topic. [Set in George DeValier’s Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart.] [Recommended listening/watching: Heaven Knows by Five For Fighting, animated by Alice Jaxerques.] [This story contains discussions about religion.]

The sunlight shone in through the stained-glass windows, bathing Feliciano in a soft topaz glow. His walking almost looked like dancing, a lovely one-man waltz casting shadows across the dirty, tiled floor of the church.

“I never saw this place on my walks before.” Feliciano turned back and smiled at Ludwig. “How could I have missed an entire church, especially one that’s so pretty?” He spun around in the multicoloured lights. “Look at all this!”

He could not deny that the church was pretty, even in its half-dilapidated state. The floor was grubby, the windows were faded and the walls were in need of cleaning, but the painted statues and carved wooden pews were intact. Ludwig watched as Feliciano ran up and down the lengths of the small church, his footsteps echoing.

After two laps, he stopped next to Ludwig, round cheeks flushed slightly. “Churches are always so beautiful, with their stained glass and carvings,” he said. “If I ever own a house, I’d want my windows to be made of stained glass.”

“That would be very colourful.”

“Exactly! It would look just like a church, except I hope nobody would mistake my house for one. I don’t want people showing up at my door on a Sunday morning.” Feliciano fidgeted with the bunch of heliotrope he’d picked earlier. “Do you believe in God, Ludwig?” He suddenly asked.

Surprised by the question, he replied, “I don’t know.”

“Neither do I.” He gently swung the bunch back and forth. “I know Vino does, because he crosses himself sometimes. And I don’t know about Grandpa. But I like churches anyways.”

“So do I.”

“Do you want to get married in a church?”

Heat pricked at Ludwig’s cheeks. Suddenly, he could not meet Feliciano’s eyes. “Yes, I think so, if I were allowed to.”

Feliciano laughed. “If we can find a way to fit Greta in here, you can have a wonderful wedding.”

He tried not to laugh; it was amazing how Feliciano managed to be so silly and serious at the same time. “Maybe not with Greta.” He still couldn’t look him in the eye. “I would love to marry a person in a church, though.”

“Anyone in particular?” He sounded teasing.

He stammered, “uh... well...” He became very interested in the grimy floor. “Actually, the person on my mind is - “

February, 1944:

Ludwig’s eyes flew open. He was not in the church.

He sat up, shrugging off the thin, scratchy blanket he and his fellow pilots were given. In the bunk above him, someone snuffled.

Feliciano’s bright, airy laugh was still fresh in his head, as was his teasing grin. He had had dreams of him every night since leaving him, and a longing wish-fulfilment of the brief time they’d spent in the church just happened to be another one.

When they’d been to the church, they had commented on the windows and the statues, then left a few moments later to keep picking flowers. If only his dream was what had really happened.

For a moment, Ludwig saw Feliciano again, smiling with flowers in his hands and leaves in his hair, rambling away with that sweet voice of his. He saw him laughing, running, singing his lovely songs. Just the thought of him made his heart ache. Goodness, they had only been apart for two weeks and he already missed him so.

Careful to ensure that nobody was looking, he took his photo of Feliciano out of his pocket. He was beaming at the camera, Ludwig’s jacket draped over his shoulders like a cape. He ran his thumb over the photo and sighed. He would see him again one day.

He’d make sure of it.

...

July, 1960:

“Look, it’s still up!”

Hands clenched tight on the armrests of his wheelchair, Ludwig nearly yelped as Feliciano pushed him towards the church at full speed. The wheels rolled over rocks and clumps of grass before stopping with a jolt in front of the entrance.

“It’s been so many years!” Feliciano hoisted his wheelchair over the single step with a grunt and rolled him into the church. “Nothing’s changed, huh?”

The lights shining in from the stained-glass windows were as vibrant as ever, and while the filigree frescoes on the walls were a bit more faded, they brought a smile to Ludwig’s face all the same.

All was silent until Feliciano spoke up. “It’s nice to see something that wasn’t changed by the war. We only came here once, and I’m glad to be back.” He sat down at a pew and held Ludwig’s hand. “How about you?”

“I’m happy, too.” He stroked the back of his lover’s hand with his thumb. “Especially since we’re here together.”

“Too bad we could never have stained-glass windows at home like I said.” Feliciano kissed his cheek. “I told Vino about that and I think he laughed for five minutes straight. Antonio had to ask if he was okay.”

Ludwig smiled. “I think our house is beautiful anyways. It’s probably even better than this old place.”

“This old place?” He repeated. “Don’t be so mean! It’s not that old. You shouldn’t be so rude to the place where we spent time together when we were young.” He kissed his cheek again. “Remember when I asked you if you’d ever get married in a church?”

He shook his head. “With how the world is today, people like us can’t be married anywhere.”

Feliciano snorted. “We don’t need to be officially married by an officiant or something. We can just be married because we say so.”

The years had not stolen away Feliciano’s carefreeness. Ludwig squeezed his hand, imagining if they could ever walk down the aisle. “If that’s the case, then I guess we’re husbands.”

“That sounds good to me!” He extracted two of the many red daisies he’d stored in the breast-pocket of his jacket, and pulled their stems off. After a few moments, he’d managed to knot a pair of crude rings out of them. “Here, we can wear these.”

He let his lover (or could they call each other husbands now?) slide the rough green ring on his fourth finger, then press his lips to it.

Ludwig touched the ring on Feliciano’s hand. “And we did it in a church, too.”

“So you got your wish after all.” He laced their fingers together, grassy rings pressing against each other. Eyes brimming with quiet joy, Feliciano rested his head on his lap and beamed up at him.

They were far from young now, probably what most considered too old to get married. But as Ludwig looked down at the man he’d just been unofficially wed to, he felt twenty years old again, a naive young soldier on the streets of Anzio, rescuing an air-headed young man from a beating. He felt youthful, energised, as though he could race all the way back home.

“Who will take whose last name?” Feliciano held his hand up to the sky.

“We don’t have to,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine you as anyone other than simply Feliciano Vargas.”

He laughed at that, sweet and clear, and the captivating sound echoed around the church. Ludwig could not help laughing, too. If he had more energy, he’d tell Feliciano just how much he adored him. But he was getting tired, and he settled for swooping down and claiming his lips.

Only Heaven would know how strong his love was.

#aph gerita #aph germany #aph italy #aph fanfiction #aph veraverse #aph george devalier #aph auf weidersehen sweetheart #my writing #devalier is fucking dead and i own the vvau now #/j afdjkljfksldlkfsa

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt67

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

“How many times?” Ladybug could see the strain on Viperion’s face and guilt ate at her. This was a big part of why she’d stopped using him unless absolutely necessary. The mental toll it had to take on him to see them all injured or dead and be the only one to remember was a heavy burden and she didn’t like that it fell to Luka of all people. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Twelve so far, but I think we’re close. He’s only got so many tricks and we’re weeding them out quickly.” For all he sounded positive and upbeat she could still hear a rawness under the words. Anyone else would miss it, though given the way Damian was side eyeing him, he heard it too. Given the way the snake holder was looking at Discorde she could guess which of the four of them had taken the brunt of the damage.

“Your plan is obviously not working. We should retreat and come up with something better now that we have more data.” She managed to keep from rolling her eyes at Damian, but only barely. Leaving now was one of the worst things they could do.

“We have data about the here and now but that will be worse than useless if we leave now Raphael.” He frowned at the name but she just grinned at him. He’d point blank refused to pick a name so she’d gone with the surliest of the turtles she knew. He didn’t understand the reference and that just made it funnier. “If we stop learning new things and still can’t find a way to defeat him then, and only then, will we leave. The man is too desperate for us to give him time to act without terrible consequences.” He didn’t look happy but he did stay silent. They didn’t have much time to plan before they had to go back in. Luka’s timer currently gave them about half an hour for each attempt and they couldn’t afford to waste too much time arguing.

Damian’s transformation was interesting to say the least. His suit was a dark forest green with overlapping armored plates. His shield was larger than Carapace’s had been and had far more utility. The top was more squared off and the rim could detach into two boomerangs allowing him to fight in a ranged capacity while still defending. The rest of the shield could also be split down the middle so he could block attacks from two different directions at once as well as use them to ram enemies. She wasn’t surprised that his transformation was so much more combat oriented than Wayzz normally did.

“Red Robin, plan sea green with rooftop access.” Viperion went straight into reporting mode and she heard Tim muttering while trying to pull up one of his many contingencies.

“Are you sure? If I don’t that you won’t be able to see.” Given that He was the one that had to give Luka the name it was a less than intelligent question, but he answered anyway.

“Discorde will be able to and that’s the most important thing to begin with.We’ll go in through that hatch and drop on him. Discorde, you need to Cataclysm his cane immediately and then tell Red Robin to turn on low lighting so the rest of us can help.” Ladybug shared a frown with Damian.

“Why is the cane so important?” Viperion actually shuddered before responding.

“It houses a sword that can pierce our suits and your cure won’t fix the damage if he’s still wielding his Miraculous. I don’t know why.” She heard Discorde suck in a breath but all she felt was tired and sad.

“Nooroo’s been used improperly for too long, his will is starting to yield to Gabriel’s. If he gives up entirely there’s not telling how powerful Gabriel will become. The cane is the only weapon you’re aware of?” He just nodded and she knew that there hadn’t been time for her to give him a more detailed plan. “Okay, so Discorde goes in and disarms him and we drop in once there’s enough light that we won’t trip over each other. Raphael will put up a shield around the three of us and Gabriel with Viperion on the other side so that we have better odds taking him down.”

She could tell no one was happy with the plan. Viperion understood the necessity of keeping him out of danger, but he hated watching from the sidelines and she knew it. Damian and his brother couldn’t stand the uncertainty of it all. Discorde was close to just Cataclysming Gabriel to put an end to things, or maybe come up with something like what she did to Superman. The second might become necessary if they didn’t end this soon. Actually…

“Discorde, do you think you can come up with something for Gabriel like you did Superman? Something that will make him too weak physically to actually fight us.” She frowned and cocked her head as though listening to something.

“I can try but I’m not sure if it will work the same on another holder. Plagg gave me specific instructions on what to do for the Super Pain but I can try.” Ladybug hummed in thought before turning to Viperion.

“We’ll go in full force this time but if things go south and you have to reset again tell us to have Discorde try from inside the vent before we go after him next time.” He gave a single nod before leading them to the roof access for the vent. She took a calming breath before pulling off the cover. Time for lucky number thirteen.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

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#maribat #marinette dupen chang #Damian Wayne #bffmaridami

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

JALICEWEEK20 DAY 6

The Way of Things

JaliceWeek20 Day 6: Reincarnation

Notes: I... don’t know. It just sort of happened? This wrote itself. There were a few more lifetimes I thought about including (there was a Jessamine and Alice ‘life’ that I really wanted to include but it’ll be a standalone fic once I’ve done a bunch of research) but I think I’m happy with it?

This was absolutely inspired by a gorgeous Thor fic I read a few years ago based in Norse mythology and the creation of Yggdrasil; if I can find it, I will absolutely link it because it was an incredible piece of writing.

Also go me! I’m kind of getting a hang of writing sex adjacent scenes! I remember not being able to look directly at my cursor when I implied a blow job in Shadow to Light, I’m oddly proud!

Now, just the second part to Against a Wall.

Word Count: 4,322

NSFW - not graphic but yeah.

Soulmates are funny things. They do not start out existence together; they must find each other - it might take one life time, it might take ten. It is important they undergo this struggle; some souls are not meant for regeneration - they shine and burn out within a lifetime or two. But others get stronger, more powerful, during those early searching years.

And one they find one another, they are forever more entangled. The oldest and strongest eventually fuse, unable to be separated in life or death.

Of course, eventually they burn out. But not in a tragic way; more like in a way that is last page of a very good book; the wilting of a final flower in autumn; the way snow melts in early spring, with sense of peace and satisfaction, and utter tranquility. And as they dissolve into starlight and dust, they begin the cycle anew. It is neither good nor bad or anything in between.

It is simply the way of things.

—

When they meet the first time they are vampires in Dacia - the land that will become Romania. It is an era of indulgence for vampires in that region, and if any records had been kept, it would have declared nearly dangerous levels of changes.

She is Alis, a peasant girl changed by a careless vampire who fed and left her in a ditch. She’s a gentle beauty, with long dark hair, sharp and cunning eyes, and even after the change, her skin maintains a slightly golden tint of someone who spent their life in the sun.

He is Jesper, who mentions nothing of where he came from or what he was before he arrived to hover at the fringes of the Romanian court. He has a reputation in the court, with the ladies and the men both, and Alis is entirely aware and slightly amused by that. She catches his eye more than once, but is illusive like a quicksilver, unbent and unbowed.

Until she isn’t.

It’s been a good hunt, blood soaked through their clothes to their skin that they lick off each other in their frenzy, and she learns exactly how he developed such a reputation. He learns exactly what he was looking for as he finds himself skin to skin with the spirited girl that has always seen him coming before he could catch her. But he has her now, and he’s not letting go.

She doesn’t seem to mind. They become a common sight, as a pair, their hands constantly entangled. They are not at court to curry favour or power or anything more than their next meal, but their relationship is magnetic, and more than one jealous or yearning gaze falls upon them as he presses hot kisses to her neck as he ties a choker of sapphires or diamonds around her pale throat.

The Volturi attack a century or so later, and they stand with the Romanians, their leaders and their friends. He remembers thinking they cannot possibly fail; they are the side of the kings, of the angels. He remembers admiring her as they lined up; the way she had pinned her hair with the silver clasp he’d given her, the way her dress fit her and the smirk on her lips that promised something to look forward to in their personal victory celebrations.

They don’t survive. In the chaos of the battle, it is hard to say how they each fell - the Volturi take no prisoners anyway, so a quick death in battle is preferable to an execution. But they fall and they are burnt, and their ashes mingle in the purple-grey smoke that fills the field.

When Lord Aro finds a silver hair clasp discarded on the battlefield, still clinging to a clump of dark hair, he pockets it and later presents it to Sulpicia, polished to shine and on a bed of velvet. It is a curious and beautiful piece, the shape of a raven’s wing, and it quickly joins the Volturi’s treasury without a single thought given to its origins.

—

In whatever counts as the afterlife for souls and spirits, they reunite. It will take more than one life to work out their powers, the boundaries, of this resting place - how to shape it to their preferences, how to give themselves form. For now, it is just a long horizon of contrasting light, and they are little more than sentient energy, mingling and expressing regret and pain at the demise of the other, of relief of being reunited, of contentedness being once again with the other.

Time is not something that exists on this plane, and soon they learn how to change what is around them; a swathe of sandy beach that meets perfectly clear water, expansive grassy plains that fit between quiet, looming forests that are quiet and cool. They are no more fixed than any other aspect of this space, but it remains unexpectedly consistent.

Sometimes, there is a house. It’s immediate form never changes, but the outside facade does, as the lifetimes pass them by. Somethings a log cabin, other times an English cottage, or a farmhouse, or a bamboo hut. It is their every-changing, ever-evolving desires, a nod to their shared past and their hopes for the future. It is their reward, their sanctuary.

They learn how to shape themselves as well. She fluctuates a little more than him, but she is always small, always naturally dark-haired, always cunning but sweet. He is always tall and always blonde and too charming for his own good, and sometimes not he is she, blonde and tall and could charm birds from the trees. It doesn’t matter either way; the small one greets them just the same, with enthusiasm and passion and sweet sadness at their demise but always joy at their return.

And that is where they are together until the next life.

—

The next life is simpler; a part of a nomadic tribe. She is married, in their customs, to him when she is little more than a child and he just barely a man. And despite how they were raised, he is kind and gentle to her and has no interest in her as a wife before she becomes a woman.

It is a hard year, a bad year, as they travel the mountains and ridges, the snow sharp against their faces. Few of the tribe have born children that year, and less still have lived through the winter; when food is so scarce, the dying are calmly let go so that the rest might survive. There is an undercurrent of resentment when he hoists his child-bride onto his back so that she might make the climb; that he, young and strong and likely to live long and hardy, gives his share of food and water to the bony waif he is bound to.

But she lives through that year, and the next. She lives enough years that they are both ready for her to become a wife, and everyone who scorned her frailness, her smallness, the waste of a strong husband on such a girl, is shocked when she conceives and carries his child so easily. First a son, then two daughters, all born close enough together that the old women of the tribe mutter.

The tribe becomes stronger, settles in one place for longer and longer periods of time - where food and water are plentiful and they are safe from predators and other threats.

She dies during her fourth pregnancy, slipping away in an ocean of blood no one could have prevented. Her eyes are wild and frightened, and he promises that he’ll watch over their children and see them safe, and weeps openly over her body and that of his second son.

He dies after his second daughter is married to a neighbouring tribe, to a boy who looks at her like she is a miracle, and he knows his job is done. The death is quiet, in the still of the night, in the shelter that he once shared with her. As he passes from the world, he remembers the nights when it was him and her amongst the furs, and then their children pressed between them, and then the firm bulge of the child who would ultimately kill her. He holds no resentment for the cause of her death, just a faint and worn sadness, and as he drifts away, he is certain he can hear her laughing.

—

He is a soldier, to protect his family, for a cause he finds entirely repulsive. But he mouths the words and holds the gun, and does not recognise her when he is ordered to shoot. Why would he? They’ve never met. She dies in the mud, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because they end up naming him a traitor and he dies in prison heavy with regrets.

In their sanctuary, they reunite in silence, with sad eyes and gentle embraces. Whatever powers above govern creation, they still send the souls and soulmates to earth, to be swallowed up and spat back out by human machinations, human fears and flaws and greed.

It is simply the way of things.

—

She is a barefoot thief in the streets of Paris, dangerously fast, and subtle of hand. She tells no one her story, or at least, no one her truth. Ragged and smirking, people mistake her for a child, and so there is little trouble to be had - if she’s caught at all.

She runs into him, lounging in an alleyway, tricking lords and ladies out of coins wiht sleight of hand, and is delighted with their potential. She’s old enough to be charmed by sharp green eyes and a lazy grin, and young enough to contemplate the sheer levels of chaos they can cause.

They live like kings those next few years, pinching pearls and purses, watches and rubies, and living in an icy dormer room wearing stolen rings to convince others of things they’ll get around to eventually. It’s really not much - a narrow bed with wafer thin blankets and a shared pillow; water that runs cold and brown into a bucket; pigeons that nest in the rafters and shit all over their clothing.

Doesn’t seem to matter, though, when she welcomes his kiss and sleepily encourages him when he rolls on top of her during the late night hours, frost forming on the weave and weft of their clothes. When their work is good, he brings her flowers from the seller on the corner, and she tucks her pockets full of cakes for them to share, and really, neither could imagine a finer life than together in their little tower.

But time marches on, and soon they recognise that the tricks that have gotten them this far in life aren’t going to be overlooked forever. There are less nobles on the street, less coin and jewellery to be fleeced, and so they decide to leave for the country - he’s not afraid of dirty work, and she’s not afraid of anything.

The journey will be long, and she steals a book for him on their way - he’s determined to teach her to read. It’s a neat little Bible with a smart green cover with the name ‘C-a-r-l-i-s-l-e C-u-l-l-e-n’ written in neat script on the front page.

They settle in a village, where she becomes a laundress, then a seamstress, and he finds work with horses. They marry in the village parish, where the kind priest is happy to absolve them of the sin of living as man and wife before their vows, and keep their secret. They exchange stolen rings for ones of brass, from a jar the priest keeps for that purpose.

There’s a tiny two-room cottage they occupy; those early years of hunger and neglect have left their mark on them both, and so there are no children in this life. But there is an endless parade of animals that he brings home tucked under his jacket; wounded or lost or discarded, and she finds that she doesn’t so much mind waking up to a blind duck on their bed or a sickly fox on the pillow next to her, when he is always so pleased with their progress, with their improving health. He saves more than he loses, and he takes pride in that. Some are set free and returned to the wild, but others linger until they are something of a spectacle in town - the house with all the animals.

They live a long life, a good one, and it ends peacefully. They are buried side by side in the village cemetery, with wooden crosses that bare their names, and prayers muttered in their honour.

But one Carlisle Cullen never gets his Bible back.

—

The good lives give them less time together in the in-between, if such a thing could be accurately measured. They wade, knee-deep into that perfect ocean that stretches out to their infinite horizon, hand-in-hand, and then they both feel it; that fizzing, tingling feeling as whatever oversees them pulls them back; back into bodies and minds, back into lives and places, and they once again have to go through the push and pull of finding the other and crossing their fingers it’ll happen sooner rather than later.

As he becomes nothing again, he holds her smile tight in his mind with a prayer that this will be the time, this will be the life, that he’ll recognise her for who she is to him as soon as he sees her.

She hopes its a long life, a good one, with his hand in hers always.

—

He’s reborn in Texas in 1863 and dies nineteen years later, only to rise again.

She’s born in Mississippi in 1901 and dies nineteen years later, only to rise again.

They meet in 1948, and if he knew any better, he’d tease her about keeping him waiting for thirty-seven years, six months, and three weeks. But it will be a while more before they both remember things like that, so he can’t. Instead, he falls completely and utterly in love with her, in a way that echoes right back through to that very first meeting in Dacia.

He wonders if its possible to miss someone he’d never met before, when he takes her hand. She wonders if he’s going to disappear, to startle and panic about the future that lies before them and leave her behind.

He kisses her like a starving man, and she almost immediately drags him - a willing supplicant - into her bed because it doesn’t matter what life they’re living, she’s never been particularly subtle. He knows exactly what to do to make her scream indecently, and she puts her mouth to every single one of his scars, and he wishes he could weep - with relief and guilt and a million other things that are knotted up inside his head.

And she will untangle each and every single one with enough time.

They unknowingly draw from each of the lives that have come before - they are nomadic for more than two years, criss-crossing across the country. He is no less fixated on animals - as a human, it was the training of them; as a vampire, they are his salvation. Their hands are always entangled, their gazes always on the other.

This time, they find a family, and some quiet, subconscious little corner of her mind decides she likes that they aren’t alone this time. There’s a small joy in the memory of a ‘family’, and a warm feeling - one that she doesn’t know originated from a long-ago life where they were the ones welcoming new children into their heart and home, one she doesn’t quite recognise. But families are shaped so many different ways, and the Cullens are just another way to fit together, and so they stay.

It’s a good life, an untroubled life - at least until Edward gets tangled up with a human girl and the cursed Volturi. Somewhere, the great puppet master jerks the strings and decides that if history is so desperate to repeat itself, well, it might as well put on a show.

They escape the Volturi once (a flight to Italy to save an idiot brother), and twice (Renesmee shall live, Joham shall die, and Aro leaves without any new amusements and deeply, infinitely disappointed in his beloved Carlisle).

Third time’s a charm.

—

Aro’s great error shall go down in history as underestimating the damage he has done assembling his collection, the rage and resentment that boils like an undercurrent in the vampire world. He is not a beloved leader, but a feared one.

In truth, which will be lost to both time and the fact that the powers above don’t keep written or oral histories as humans comprehend them, his undoing is two things: the fact that in all things there must be balance.

And an ancient silver hair clasp shaped like a raven’s wing, that his Sulpicia wears in her hair as they arrive at the battlefield, cloaked and over-confident.

The battle is ugly and fatal and messy and all those things wars usually are, and there is no certainty in their victory, not with the wolves involved, with the shifters and the cryptids that have crawled out of every shadow and space to be done with Aro and Caius forever.

(Stefan and Vladimir are naive if they think they will fill the vacuum left behind in Aro’s wake; Jasper takes them both out quietly on the battlefield, when neither of them can call out the betrayal or identify their killer. Sometimes ugly things need to be done, and he’s not above getting his hands dirty.)

The battleground is smokey and even her supernatural eyes struggle to see through the gloam; her dead heart heavy as she looks for him. Voices call for help; for missing limbs, for injuries, for protection and she ignores each and every one.

She doesn’t know why she stops at the sight of a silver hair clasp, ancient and lost in the mud. Or why she reaches for her own hair, cut short.

Or why she picks it up and unlocks something inside her own mind. It is not an explosion of information, a supernova of memory. It is simply an intense awareness of who she is and who she was and who she will be. It is a confidence in her stride as she moves through the battlefield with a sense of self she has not known since before her home was known as ‘Romania’.

Jasper is bent and twisted, Rosalie limp on the ground, and those vicious, hideous twins hold them captive, like fish twitching on the line. Their deaths are not imminent, because who could take down the little vipers and stop their little game?

Jane’s head is off her body, and Alec’s too, before Jasper has shaken off the pain, expecting Peter or Maria or Emmett to have gotten a lucky shot and dismembered Aro’s little favourites.

Instead, it is his mud-streaked wife with a strange look in her eyes and emotions skittering over her skin like static. A battlefield is no place for a lover’s reunion, but she still bestows a kiss on his kneeling form (so ready for his own execution) that is so positively lascivious that it takes him a minute to remember himself.

And then he remembers himself.

The scales have been rebalanced, and the fight is won by a toss of a coin that finds Aro, Caius, and Marcus on their knees in the mud, waiting for their own trial. The oldest of the gathered line up - Carlisle, Amun, Maria, the Chinese coven - to pass their judgement, but the memories that press on both of them demand their pound of flesh, and Edward eyes them both uneasily.

Instead of violence, of sliding down a slope that turns them back into the monsters of old, into the truest of nightmares, Alice crouches in front of Aro with her wide dark gold eyes, and pulls the hair clasp from her pocket.

Aro’s rage is cold, at the few strands of Sulpicia’s hair that are still trapped in the metal, and if he could, he’d shred her to pieces in that moment, gift be damn. But she smiles sweetly, and strokes the etched feathers.

“Did you know?” she asks quietly, only loud enough for the fallen Volturi kings to hear, and Edward who hovers in case this spirals into a cataclysm, “When he gave me this, I mean?”

Aro stares at her, straining to touch her and understand, but his guard holds him tight and all he can do is sneer at her.

“The night before you brought your army,” Alice plucks the strawberry-blonde hairs from the fixture and tosses them into the mud. “He pinned this in my hair and we danced; we thought we’d win. And I suppose we did.”

Aro gapes at her, Caius is spitting curses, and Marcus is just pleading for his peaceful death - and how many lifetimes has he lived without Didyme, has he wanted to return to that in-between space?

She sees the scar on Esme’s face and finds it hard to care.

Edward is backing away in horror from whatever he sees in her mind, and Jasper is helping her stand, returning to their place amongst the very confused witnesses - what could the diminutive vampire say to the Lords of Volterra that would inspire such a response. The three are summarily executed without ceremony, and they are scattered over the fire without reverence.

Alice tosses the hair clasp in, too. It is better to be burnt to nothing, to be forgotten and buried by dirt and ash. It is too close to becoming a cursed object, one that will follow them, if they place too much belief and trust and hope into it. It has witnessed two downfalls, and it will never witness another.

He holds her tight in the aftermath, as they count their dead and make their plans. Edward is already whispering warnings into Carlisle’s ear, of the shape their thoughts and memories take. But they are family, and that comes before everything else.

(It’s not exactly their fault that Edward is a shiny new soul, and it’s going to take him a few lifetimes to understand what he’s seeing and hearing. Harder especially for him, with his gift so strong so early in the cycle. But everything happens for a reason.)

Despite the curiosity wafting off everyone, they say nothing and they go… well, not home, but to the closest residence, the headquarters of this war. A sprawling property with enough beds for the wounded, the wolves, and the lovers.

That’s where she makes good on her unspoken promises from eons again, of their private victory celebration. She sits astride him, her hips rolling hard against his, drawing out his groans and growls as he grips her thighs almost tight enough to crack. Their gazes are locked the entire time, her tongue skimming over her lips, as she lets her emotions tell him everything that she wants and everything she plans to take.

He remembers fucking her in the dirt in Dacia; his mouth between her legs as she hollered obscenities in a Paris attic; and the urgent, passionate loving-making of a marriage finally consummated.

She remembers bloody emeralds looped around her throat and resting between her breasts as she gets down on her knees and takes him into her mouth, his fingers tangled in her hair; the delicious weight of him on top of her, their sweat mingling and cooling in the frozen night as their flimsy bed creaked against the wall; and his soft encouragement in her ear as he grasps her around the waist, their hands resting together on the gentle swell of her stomach.

It is times like this that their talents are burdens and gifts both because it is so much, so very much, and in all that passion and true love, there is also loss and regret.

But they have each other, and they will weather this new storm together.

—

They are hardly the only couple to spend the night tumbling together, but they must be the loudest, because when they reappear the next morning with darkened eyes and clean clothes, Jacob and Emmett are looking at Jasper with a new and very specific kind of respect, and if she flips both of them off behind Esme’s back, no one has any proof.

They don’t talk about what they’ve learnt, because it probably wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t matter, until the mantle of it settles upon you. And then it is everything.

Instead, they hunt. They have won the battle, won the war, and whilst rebuilding will take time, they can take this small moment to feast with their family and relish freedom from fear.

She truly doesn’t know what comes next. He truly doesn’t know if it will be good or bad. They will live this life for as long as it lasts, long may it last, surrounded by the people they love and trust.

And then they will die.

And then they will live again. Maybe they will live another ten lives, maybe another one hundred. Maybe one day they will cross paths with their family again, or they will choose to have children again. Maybe they will be long lives full of joy and laughter, maybe they will burn out fast and hard, but full of feeling.

But the thing they are now both and utterly certain of, above all else, is that they will walk each step hand-in-hand.

It is simply the way of things.

#jaliceweek20 #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight renaissance #twilight fic #jalice #jalice fic #my fic: the way of things

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ninja-muse · 4 years

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i’m trying to branch out and read outside my genre (fantasy) do you have any book recs for someone whose heart is in fantasy but needs to see what else is out there?

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask! Fantasy’s such a wide genre, and this is such an open ask, that I’m mostly going to be recommending books with similar feels or themes from other genres, to push you a little outside the fantasy bubble and introducing you to different genres and types of storytelling. If you have a favourite subgenre or trope or author, I can maybe get a little more specific or offer read-alikes.

Also, I don’t know if you knew this before asking, but fantasy is my favourite genre too, so some of these recs are books that pushed me out of the genre as well, or that I found familiar-but-different.

And this is getting long, so I’m going to throw it under a cut to save everyone scrolling.

Science fiction

the Vorkosigan saga by Lois McMaster Bujold - This is space opera, which means it’ll have fairly familiar plots except with science-y things instead of magic. There’s an heir with something to prove, heists, cons, and mysteries, attempted coups and assassinations, long-suffering sidekicks, and a homeworld that’s basically turn-of-the-century Russia but with fewer serfs. It was one of the first adult sci-fi books I read and genuinely liked.

The Book of Koli by M.R. Carey - I finished this recently, and the second book of the trilogy just came out. This is post-apocalyptic sci-fi, but not grim or particularly complex. (Some SF gets really into the nuts and bolts of the science elements; this isn’t that.) Basically, Koli’s a teenager who wants more than his quasi-medieval life’s given him, and finds himself in conflict with his village (and then exile) because of it. I could see where the story was going pretty much from the start, but I loved the journey anyway.

The Martian by Andy Weir - This doesn’t have much in common with fantasy, but it’s my go-to rec for anyone who’s never read science fiction before, because it’s funny, explains the science well, and has a hero and a plot you get behind right away. In case you haven’t heard of it (or the film), it’s about an astronaut stranded on Mars, trying to survive long enough to be rescued.

Foreigner by C.J. Cherryh - This is an alien first contact story, about a colony of humans in permanent quarantine on an alien planet. The MC is the sole social liaison and translator, explaining his culture to the aliens and the aliens to the human, and working to keep the peace—until politics and assassins get involved. It’s been over a decade since I read this, so my memory’s blurred, but I remember the same sort of political intrigue vibes as the Daevabad trilogy, just with fewer POVs.

Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor - One from my TBR. It looks like dark fiction about women, outcasts, and revenge, which sounds very fantastic and the MC can apparently do magic—but it’s post-apocalyptic Africa.

Speaking of political intrigue and sweeping epic plots, the Expanse series by James S.A. Corey has both in spades. Rebellions, alien technology, corrupt businesses, heroes doing good things and getting bad consequences, all that good stuff. It takes the science fairly seriously, without getting very dense with it, and will probably register as “more sci-fi” than my recs in the genre so far.

Oh, and Dune by Frank Herbert is such a classic chosen-one epic that it barely registers as science fiction at all.

Graphic novels

It’s technically fantasy, but assuming you’ve never picked up a graphic novel before, you should read Monstress by Marjorie Liu. Asian-inspired, with steampunk aesthetics, and rebellions and quests and so many female characters. It’s an absolutely fantastic graphic novel, if you want a taste of what those can do.

I’d highly recommend Saga by Brian K. Vaughan. It’s an epic science fiction story about a family caught between sides of a centuries-long war. (Dad’s from one side, Mom’s from the other, everyone wants to capture them, their kid is narrating.) It’s a blast to read, exciting and tense, with hard questions and gorgeous tender moments, and the world-building somehow manages to include weaponized magic, spaceship trees, ghosts, half-spider assassins, and all-important pulp romance novels without anything feeling out of place.

Historical fiction

Hild by Nicola Griffith - Very rich and detailed novel following a girl growing up in an early medieval English court. It’s very fantasy-esque, with battles and politics and changes of religion, and Hild gets positioned early on to be the king’s seer, so there’s “magic” of a sort as well.

The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry - A widow goes to the Victorian seaside to heal and reawaken her interest in biology. Slow, gentle, lovely writing and atmosphere, interesting characters and turns of plot. Doesn’t actually deliver on the sea monster, but still has a lot to recommend it to fantasy readers, I think.

Yiddish for Pirates by Gary Barwin - The late-medieval Jewish pirate adventure you didn’t know you wanted. It’s funny and literary, full of tropes and set pieces like “small-town kid in the big city” and “jail break”, and features the Spanish Inquisition, Columbus, the Fountain of Youth, and talking parrots, among other things.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett - A thousand pages about the building of a cathedral in England, mostly focusing on the master builder, the monk who spearheads the project, and a noblewoman who’s been kicked off her family’s land, but has several other plots going on, including a deacon with political ambitions, a war, and a boy who’s trying so hard to fit in and do right.

Sharon Kay Penman - This is an author on my TBR, who comes highly recommended for her novels about the War of the Roses and the Plantagenets. Should appeal to you if you liked Game of Thrones. I’m planning to start with The Sunne in Splendour.

Lady of the Forest by Jennifer Roberson - Either a Robin Hood retelling that’s also a romance, or a romance that’s also a Robin Hood retelling.

Hamnet & Judith by Maggie O’Farrell - A novel of the Shakespeare family, mostly focused on his wife and son. Lovely writing and a very gentle feel though it heads into dark and complex subjects fairly often. A good portrait of Early Modern family life.

Mystery

There’s not a lot of mystery that reads like high, epic, or even contemporary fantasy, but if you’re a fan of urban fantasy, which is basically mystery with magic in, then I’d rec:

Cozy mysteries as a general subgenre, especially if you like the Sookie Stackhouse end of urban fantasy, which has romance and quirky plots; there are plenty of series where the detective’s a witch or the sidekick’s a ghost but they’re solving non-magical mysteries, and the genre in general full of heroines who are good at solving crimes without formal training, and the plots feel very similar but with slightly lower stakes. Cozies have become one of my comfort-reading genres (along with UF) the last few years. My intros were the Royal Spyness novels by Rhys Bowen and the Fairy Tale Fatale books by Maia Chance.

If you like your urban fantasy darker and more serious, and your heroines more complicated, try Kathy Reichs and her Temperance Brennan novels. Brennan’s a forensic anthropologist, strong and complicated in the same ways of my fave UF heroines, and the mysteries are already interesting, with a good dash of thriller and a smidge of romance.

Two other recs:

Haunted Ground by Erin Hart - The first of four books about a forensic anthropologist in Ireland, who’s called in when the Garda find bodies in the peat bogs and need to know how long they’ve been there. They’re very atmospheric—I can almost smell the bog—and give great portraits of rural Ireland and small-town secrets, and since not all the bodies found in each book are recent, they also bring interesting slices of the past to life as well.

A Burnable Book by Bruce Holsinger - This is essentially a medieval thriller about a seditious book that’s turned up in London. I liked the mystery in it and that it’s much more focused on the lives of average people than the rich and famous (for all that recognizable people also show up).

Classics

Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift - I swear this is actually one of the first fantasy novels but few people ever really class it as such. Basically, Gulliver’s a ship’s doctor who keeps getting shipwrecked—in a country of tiny people, a country of giants, a country of mad scientists, a country of talking horses, etc. It’s social satire and a spoof of travelogues from Swift’s time, but it’s easily enough read without that context.

Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll - Another, slightly later, fantasy and satire! Even more amusing situations than in Gulliver’s Travels and, while it’s been a while* since I read it, I think it’ll be a decent read-alike for authors like Jasper Fforde, Genevieve Cogman, and that brand of light British comic fantasy.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare - Also technically a fantasy! I mean, there are fairies and enchantments, for all it’s a romantic comedy written entirely in old-fashioned poetry. It’s a pretty good play to start you off on Shakespeare, if you’re interested in going that direction.

On the subject of Shakespeare, I would also recommend Much Ado About Nothing, Macbeth, and King Lear, the first because it’s my favourite comedy, the others because they’re fantasy read-alikes imo as well (witches! coups! drama!).

the Arthurian mythos. Le Morte D’arthur, Crétien de Troyes, The Once and Future King by T.H. White, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court by Mark Twain, etc. - I’ve read bits and pieces of the first two, am about 80% sure I read the third as a kid (or at least The Sword in the Stone), and have the last on my TBR. Basically, these stories are going to give you an exaggeratedly medieval setting, knights, quests, wizards, fairies, high drama, romantic entanglements, and monsters, and the medieval ones especially have different kinds of plots than you’ll be used to (and maybe open the door to more medieval lit?) **

Beowulf and/or The Odyssey - Two epics that inspired a lot of fiction that came later. (There’s an especial connection between Beowulf and Tolkien.) They’re not the easiest of reads because they’re in poetry and non-linear narratives, but both have a hero facing off against a series of monsters and/or magical creatures as their core story.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley - The first real science fiction novel. It’s about the ethics of science and the consequences of one’s actions, and I loved seeing the Creature find himself and Frankenstein descend into … that. It’s also full of sweeping, gothic scenes and tension and doom and drama.

* 25 years, give or take

** There are plenty of more recent people using King Arthur and associated characters too, if this "subgenre” interests you.

Other fiction

Vicious by V.E. Schwab - I don’t know if you classify superheroes as science fiction or fantasy or its own genre (for me it depends on the day) but this is an excellent take on the subject, full of moral greyness and revenge.

David Mitchell - A literary fiction writer who has both a sense of humour and an interest in the fantastic and science fictional. He writes ordinary people and average lives marvelously well, keeps me turning pages, plays with form and timelines, and reliably throws in either recurring, possibly-immortal characters, good-vs-evil psychic battles, or other SF/F-y elements. I’d start with either Slade House, a ghost story, or Utopia Avenue, about a ‘60s rock band. Or possible The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, which I fully admit to not having read yet.

Devolution by Max Brooks - A horror movie in book form, full of tension and desperation and jump scares and the problems with relying on modern technology. The monsters are Bigfeet. Reccing this one in the same way I’m reccing The Martian—it’s an accessible intro to its genre.

Son of a Trickster by Eden Robinson - Contemporary fiction with a slight literary bent, that doesn’t pull its punches about Indigenous life but also has a sense of humour about the same. Follows a teen dealing with poverty and a bad home life and drugs and hormones—and the fact that his bio-dad might actually be the trickster Raven. Also features witches, magic, and other spirit-beings, so I generally pitch this as magic realism.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones - Another Indigenous rec, this time a horror novel about ghosts and racism and trying to do the right thing. This’ll give you a taste of the more psychological end of the horror spectrum.

Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia - A good example of contemporary YA and how it handles the complexities of life, love, and growing up. Follows the writer of a fantasy webcomic who makes a friend who turns out to write fic of her story and who suddenly has to really balance online and offline life, among other pressures. Realistic portrait of mental health problems.

Non-fiction

The Book of Margery Kempe - The first English-language autobiography. Margery was very devout but also very badass, in a medieval sort of way. She went on pilgrimages to Jerusalem, was possibly epileptic, frequently “saw” Christ and Mary and demons, basically became a nun in middle age while staying married to her husband, and wound up on trial for heresy, before talking a monk into writing down her life story. It’s a fascinating window into the time period.

The Hammer and the Cross by Robert Ferguson - A history of medieval Norse people and how their explorations and trade shaped both their culture and the world.

A Time of Gifts by Patrick Leigh Fermor - Travel writing that was recommended to me by someone who raved about the prose and was totally right. Fermor’s looking back, with the aid of journals, on a walking trip he took across Europe in the 1930s. It’s a fascinating look at the era and an old way of life, and pretty much every “entry” has something of interest in it. He met all sorts of people.

Tim Severin and/or Thor Heyerdahl - More travel writing, this time by people recreating historical voyages (or what they believe to be historical voyages, ymmv) in period ships. Severin focuses on mythology (I’ve read The Ulysses Voyage and The Jason Voyage) and Heyerdahl’s known for Kon-Tiki, which is him “proving” that Polynesians made contact with South America. They both go into the history of the sailing and areas they’re travelling through, while also describing their surroundings and daily life, and, yes, running into storms and things.

Hope this helps you!

#bookblr #booklr #fantasy #read-alikes #answered asks #book recommendations #rec lists

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alice-grace-and-ava · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2:Rage You Damn Nerd

Three American transfer students join your favorite characters at UA high. Come see as they face the challenges that come with training to be a hero while battling their demons from their past. It’s time for them to push past their boundaries and go plus ultra!!!!!(sorry I’m terrible at descriptions)

English Thoughts Japanese

HI! This is Alice, and I wanted to go ahead and post this! Grace wouldn't let me stop doing the tags until it maxed out.................I would rather drink unsweet tea than do that ever again. Anyway enjoy!

Alice

“ Listen Alice” I nod my head and my eyes lower back to his chiseled abs “ look here” Vlad king snapped his fingers in my face to bring my attention back to him.I'm currently sitting in his office, which is all of the teachers, and we are the only ones in the room. His cubicle is littered with fanart, a coffee cup, a mysterious bowl of some type of food, and a computer with a cat on the home screen.Why would a very well-behaved girl like me be in the teacher’s office? He wanted to make a deal with me but from how this is going so far I’m not sure I’m going to like it.“ If you behave, and I mean no hitting on me or other students- don't give me that look!” I feel myself deflate in the chair.“ You don't understand!” I flap my arms in defiance. “ And how do I not understand the fact that you won't stop calling me names, and quite frankly poor Shiozaki cant handle it any more” he challenges. I cross my arms and huff “ It's not my fault that everyone in the class is whiny babies” Vlad leans his head on his desk and is visibly exhausted.

“ Oh, Alice!” I jump from my seat as Present Mic appears, he holds a cup of jasmine tea in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.

“ Mic!” I excitedly respond, he smiles then notices Vlad King's exhaustion.

“ Hey, Hey, Hey my guy what’s wrong?” The other loud blonde in the room questions.

I slap the dying man on the back trying to show that he's okay, but he completely collapses onto the desk with an oof

“ Oh, that's not good” I quickly retract my hand and jump back.

“ What happened Alice?” Present mic sets his stuff on the desk and crouches down closer to the nearly dead man. I look away shyly “ He wants me to make a deal with him” I complain, and with a look from Mic I whine out the rest “but he wants me to stop flirting and making inappropriate comments!”

“ Man Sekkijro you can't make Alice change her style like that, we try to help the students stay true to themselves and that's who she is so let her be herself”

What the hell Mic, I stand still and look away, I hate it when people try to act like this.

“ Listen Vlad king,” I say boredly, my morning now ruined by sympathetic people, and he jumps up to attention at my change. “ Let me come and go as I please, I'll do the bookwork, don't worry, and then I'll stop interrupting your lessons with my comments.” The look of relief on his face is laughable.

“ Yes! As long as you do your schoolwork you can skip class as much as you want!”

I smile widely “ Deal!” I step closer to him and pat his chest “ but that won't stop me from acting up outside of class hours'' His skin drained of all color, Present Mic doubled over laughing. I took this chance to snatch his tea and skip out of the class, yes I skipped out of the room.

I shut the door and stand in the hallway

It’s cold like always……….

*RUMBLE*

I feel a light shake and immediately felt around for the girls, relaxing more once their presence was stable. Grace seems to be in class while Ava on the other hand…

I smile, she’s by herself on the west wing- The wing known for its amazing vending machine- wanting my mood to lighten I reach out for her more.

I hone onto her sunflower energy and a twinge of power flows within myself

Grace

To say that the school day so far has been boring would be an understatement. The only interesting part of the day was when I got to repeatedly correct the present mic about slang terms in English class. I don't understand why I have to take that class anyway. It's an easy A, or it would be if the slang that Present Mic was trying to teach wasn't from the 80s.

After English with the present mic, it was time for lunch. The entire school seems like it’s on the same lunch schedule so the lunchroom was packed. I was having trouble finding a seat when I heard someone yell out my name. When I looked around to find the owner of the voice I saw a group of kids from my class looking in my direction. Kirishima was holding his hand in the air and waving it around excitedly.

I made my way over only to find that the only available seat was next to Bakuhoe. Reluctantly I placed my tray down and moved my chair as far away from his as possible before I sat down and began to eat my food. I could practically feel the entire group’s eyes staring into the side of my head. I glanced up from my food and was met with four curious faces looking at me. The first one to speak was the pink girl. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m-” “You’re Mina Ashido, the boy with the blond hair with the lightning bolt is Denki Kaminari, black hair is Sero Hanta, the redhead is Eijiro Kirishima, and the punk next to me is Katsuki Bakugou.” They all stare at me with various looks of surprise on their faces. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was supposed to put the last name first wasn’t I?” The one to speak up was Sero. “No- well yes, but I guess we weren’t expecting to know all of our names.” I glance around and see them all nodding in agreement except for Bakugou. “Let’s just say that where I’m from you learn names and faces pretty quickly for safety reasons.” Kaminari was the one to speak up next. “Why do you need to-” The sound of Into the Unknown resounds from the pocket of the shorts that were under my skirt. When I finally can get the phone out I see I have a text from Ava asking me to meet her in her classroom and to bring my backpack. “Sorry to cut this lunch short but I have to go meet my sister.” Mina excitedly jumps out of her seat and scurries or to me before stopping directly in front of me.”You have a sister that goes here?!” I place my hands on her shoulder and push her back slightly. “Yea I have two. Technically we’re not blood-related but in the words of Supernatural “family doesn’t end in blood.”

Alice

“Oh hello Alice, I just ate my last bag of cookies sorry. If I knew you were coming I would've given it to that cute kid…..”

I am sitting on the bench in front of a vending machine Ava is sitting cross-legged to my right surrounded by food.

“Cute kid?” I smirk and poke her shoulder, she grabs my shoulder and leans in close.

“You have no idea how adorable he is, fluffy hair! Big ground eyes! And freckles, he has freckles!!”

I burst out laughing and reach up to pat her head, glad that I chose to visit her because she can entertain me.

“Why are you laughing?” she wines out

“Because you’re amusing”

She huffs and opens up a honey bun to eat it, I stare at the cup of tea in my hand,

“Alice, what’s wrong?”

Ava leans her head on my shoulder.

I glance down at a snickers bar, and a certain pomeranian pops into my head.

“Alice?”

“It's nothing Ava, nothing at all, in fact, can you hold this cup please”

I smile innocently and watch as she takes the cup without hesitation

We stare at each other

I grab a snickers bar and get the fuck out of there.

“ALICCCCEEEE!!! THAT’S MINE”

I hear her scream, then a crash of the coffee cup smashing into the ground.

Sorry Mic

I start running through the halls, fear creeps into me as I hear her running up behind me.

I hear her footsteps quickly closing in on me.

Dang, it! I should’ve rethought this, I know how fast she is, and yet I thought this was a bright Idea. A CHILD!

I reach out and grab the small purple-haired kid by the collar and yeeted him over my shoulder.

“Oh hello there goddess”

Glancing over and see the purple kid stuck to Ava, she tries to pry him off but he only continues to stick on her.

I laugh at my victory, knowing whatever Ava will try to do to get back at me Grace will stop.

I keep my walk at a fast pace, noticing how I can hear the voices of students grow louder. I open silver double doors and look around the room. A very nice cafeteria is filled with students, they sit at nice comfortable booths and chat. Scanning the room looking for my next victim

“ WHAT DID YOU SAY YA NERD!”

I smile as I hear a dog bark out annoyingly, the students sitting in the booth close to me quickly got up sensing my intentions. I calmed myself and plastered a smile on my face, I turn to see the Pomeranian sitting with 4 other people ( even happier when one of those is my dear Pikachu). I sneak towards the group, closing in behind the cute static brain, Mid rant the mutt stops and looks at me confused causing the others to look. Denki of course doesn’t notice as he is concentrating on his food, I wink at the group.

“ Pikachu I choose you!”

I yell and throw my arms around his neck. He lets out a scream and then goes into a coughing fit.

Everyone starts laughing, I slap my fellow blonde harshly on the back to assist him in not dying.

“ So who’s your friend?” the redhead asks as he wipes his eyes.

I climb over the booth and slip in between Denki and the redhead, right across from the mutt, I throw him a smirk.

“ Ah, this is-”

“ Wait a damn minute you’re the annoying brat that-”

“ I’m Alice, I just transferred from America- Also I’m Pikachu’s friend!”

I interrupt the mutt and throw my arm around my now proclaimed friend.

“ What’s your last name?” the pink girl questioned.

I remove my arm and clap my hands together to rest my chin on them.

“ I don’t have one, and who are you Pinkie Pie?”

Sensing my tone the redhead jumped in.

“ Sorry, it’s just our friend said she has two sisters that go to school here, so we just wanted to know.”

The mutt aggressively set his juice box down on the table and they stared at him.

“ Didn’t you hear her, they’re not blood-related so of course the last name isn’t the same.”

Ahh he gets bonus points

I laugh trying to change the mood.

“ Well, I’ll introduce everyone-” I interrupt Denki

“The first name only, I’ll only remember it”

He grins and points at the kid with weird elbows

“ Sero”

“Flextape”

“Mina”

“Pinkie Pie”

“Eijiro”

“ Shark - and or Shark bait ooh ah ah”

They stared at me, the mutt chokes on his juice.

“Should I even try if you’re going to give us nicknames”

Denki lets a breath out as I continue to smile, he points at himself

“Pikachu?”

I nod my head, he hesitantly then points across from him

“Mutt”

I don’t miss a beat.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME!!”

“Mutt” I respond with a smile and seeing how he’s at the perfect level I slip the Snickers bar towards him on the table.

“It’s okay your not you when you’re hungry”

He turns to stone, then as if he was a newly awakened volcano he exploded. Everyone at the table jumps up as he starts to produce explosions.

“Welp gotta blast” I grin out and holding my hand out to give Pikachu a high-five, then leaping across the table and now on the run for the second time today.

I weave in between students standing in the cafeteria, standing in shock as they watch 3 people try to restrain a rabid dog.

I slip through the doors and a laugh escapes me as my daily entertainment has been fulfilled.

“ Oh it’s you”

I look to my left and my biggest smile of the day creeps on my face.

“Best Boi!” I jump to hug him, he stops me by placing a hand on my head, I let out a whine as I struggle to touch him.

“You’re very loud today” he states boredly.

“Yes of course I am! I was playing with the dog and also stole some candy, which I tried to give to the dog but he didn’t want it” I pout, Shinsou doesn't even look surprised at my confession.

“ Did you at least have lunch?”

I stop trying to hug him and stood up straight, dread fills me “ Grace is going to murder me”

I whisper to him, he chuckles and reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a slice of lemon bread.

“ Can’t have the problem child dying”

My eyes widen as I stare at his outstretched hand.

“You’re stalking me”

“what - You know what I’m not even going to try to argue with you, but why would you assume that”

I swipe the package from his hand and beam at him, “because it’s my favorite snack”

He stands there, head empty no brain,

“Oh, Alice there you are! I was wondering if I could have my cup back, its a limited edition DJ Khaled cup”

I look at shinshou with a guilty look, Present Mic appears down the hall strutting my way

“Gotta blast again! By best boi”

I salute him and put the bread in my mouth, like a true anime girl, and hop out the window escaping.

Grace

When I met up with Ava there was a weird purple ball stuck to her skirt and she needed to get her spare skirt out of her locker. As it turns out Ava needed my backpack because she accidentally put the slip of paper with her locker combination in one of my folders, but the one folder she needed was at home. We ended up spending a good 10-15 minutes looking for it before we finally went to her teacher. Who was nice enough to give me a pass to class because I was running late. I made it to class five minutes after the bell rang but luckily the teacher wasn’t there yet. Just as I placed my pencil pouch on my desk the door to the classroom slams open to reveal All Might, the number one hero standing on his toes with his hands on the door frame. He leans forward so that his weight is supported by his hands, and he’s standing in what seems to be a pose imitating flying. His cape flows into the classroom, and if I look closely I can see the fan positioned in the hallway behind him that he’s using to provide the breeze for his cape.

“I am here!”

The sound of excited murmuring begins to resonate around the classroom. All might does a weird march as he makes his way behind the teacher’s desk

Sir why are you walking like you have something stuck up your butt.

“Welcome to the most important class at U.A high! Think of it as heroing 101! Here you will learn the basics of being a pro and what it means to fight in the name of good!”

All might places one of his feet on the chair and turns so that his back is faced to us while he flexes to make his muscles even larger than they already are.

“Let’s get into it! Today’s lesson: pull no punches!” All might holds up a card that just says BATTLE. The class begins to talk in an uproar of excitement. “Hell yea finally some action!” Bakugou’s loud voice in my ear sends a sharp pain through my skull. I turn in my seat so that I am face to face with him. “Bitch! Do that again! Yell in my ear again and see what happens to you! I know how to hide a body. They’ll never find you.” Bakugou slams his hands on his desk and gets closer to my face “ Are you threatening me!” A small smirk works its way onto my face. “It's not a threat. It’s a promise. Now if you don’t get out of my face I promise that I will punch you in yours.”

Before he can say anything else several slots in the wall open and shelves of number cases slide out. “ Part of being a hero is looking good so in each case is a costume based on the information that each of you provided before school started” the class once again starts to murmur in excitement. “ Young Grace, your hero costume just arrived this morning from your old school, so it is not with the rest of the classes. You will have to stop by the office to grab yours, so you are excused to go and collect that.”

It didn’t take me long to get my costume and by the time I got back to the class the last person was grabbing their assigned case number and I was being ushered in the direction of the changing rooms.

After everyone was changed we made our way to the training ground beta. I couldn’t help but look around at everyone’s costumes. A green figure caught my attention. Is that midoriya? What the hell is he wearing? His costume was interesting, to say the least. It looked sort of like a mutant bunny. Wait a damn minute. Why does his costume look familiar? I try to figure out what or who his costume reminds me of until I feel a presence next to me when I look I see no one until I glance down to see Mineta standing way too close for comfort and staring at the exposed skin of my thigh. “Man, I love this school.” My face scrunches in disgust, but before I can do anything All Might begins talking again. All Might! My eyes dart back and forth between Midoriya’s costume and All Might. The more that I look the more the similarities stick out. Did he base his costume on All Might?

“Alright, newbies each of you will step up and choose a letter from this box. This will determine what team you will be on. Since we have an uneven number of students one team will have three people instead of two.” One by one my classmates found their teams until it was my turn. I reached in and felt around until I finally was able to grasp a sheet of paper. Please not the same team as that pomeranian.Please not the same team as that pomeranian. I opened the slip and low and behold I’m on the same team as Katsuki Bakugou. Begrudgingly I walked over to Bakugou and Iida to wait for the rest of the class to finish drawing for their teams.

Once everyone was paired up for teams, All Might reached into the two boxes that had been sitting to the side labeled hero and villain. He raises his hands into the air in an extravagant manner while holding two balls. One with the letter A and the other with the letter D. “Team A will be the heroes and Team D you three will be the villains. Now go to your starting positions. The rest of the class and I will be watching. If things go too far I will stop the fight.” I follow Iida to where we need to go, but we each stop at All Might to get an earpiece so that we can talk to each other.

Iida, Bakugou, and I were placed in a large room to guard a weapon. As we wait for All Might to announce the start I hear Bakugou grumbling to himself. “Yo hedgehog. What’s got your panties in a twist?” He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Do you think that damn nerd has a quirk?” Iida speaks up before I have the opportunity to. “ Do you mean Midoriya? Of course, he has a quirk. How else would he have gotten into U.A. otherwise, and you saw him at the entrance exam.” Bakugou clenches his fist and the smell of caramel floods my nostrils. The static of the earpieces being activated sounds in our ears. “Let the battle begin!” Bakugou is the first to move, heading for the door right away. Iida starts to wave his hands around in a wild but robotic manner. “Bakugou where are you going? We need to stay-”“ You two just stay here and guard the weapon.” With that, he disappears into the hallway. “ Don’t worry Iida I’m still here.” He turns and looks down at me before his face turns a bright red color and he swiftly turns his head to look away from me. I glance down to try to figure out what has him so flustered, but I don't see the problem. When I look back at him he still refuses to look at me. “th-tha-. Let’s-um- let’s move everything out of the floor so that when Uraraka and Midoriya come Uraraka can’t use her quirk.” After he gives instructions he just begins to move things around, while still avoiding looking in my direction. “Iida?” He hums while still moving things around. “Are you okay?” I start to move things around and off the floor. “I am fine Jackson, but thank you for your concern.” “Are you sure? Because you were really red.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see his back stiffen. “I am fine, I assure you.” I don’t believe you but I’ll leave it alone.

It takes us about ten minutes or so to move everything out of the floor and put them where Uraraka can’t use them. As we wait Iida starts to mumble to himself about how to be a good pretend villain. Slowly he starts to get louder until he’s taking in a boisterous voice in a stiff or of tone. I can’t help but to chuckle at his antics, and he turns and looks at me wide-eyed as if he had forgotten that I was here. He goes to speak, but I raise my hand to silence him when I hear something. It’s quiet for a moment before the faint sound of shuffling can be heard. “Did you hear that?” Iida looks at me with confusion written all over his face. “No, I did not hear anything.” The shuffling sound happens again. “There it is again.” Iida looks around. “Maybe it was Bakugou.” I continue to look around to try to find the source of the noise when a faint scent hits my nose. “ It’s not Bakugou. It doesn’t smell like caramel. It’s like a softer smell like flowers.” Iida looks around smelling the air. “Are you sure I don’t smell anything” I continue to observe the area before I spot a pink shoe peeking out from behind a pillar. “Trust me Iida if there is anything I am confident with it’s my sense of smell. And I'm also confident that Uraraka is currently hiding behind that pillar over there by the door.” A small squeak comes from the girl.

As I go to take a step forward the building begins to shake and I end up on the floor. “Dammit, Bakugou! What the hell are you doing.” the earphone stays silent. “Bakugou I know that you can hear me!” A growl can be heard from his end of the line. “Shut the hell up. I’m handling my job. You handle yours.” The sound of static fills my ears, and I turn around to look at Iida. “Did-did he just turn his earpiece off?” All that he offers is a blank expression. The building shakes again this time a few pieces of the ceiling fall and we have to cover our heads. Once the building settles and debris no longer rains I wait a moment before I stand just to make sure that the building won’t start shaking again.

I start to dust off my pants when I notice movement out of the side of my eye. I look over to see Uraraka moving from her place behind the pillar and start running towards the weapon. “Iida!” The sound of his engines fills the room as I charge forward towards the brunette. “Got it!” I throw myself forward and tackle Uraraka before she can get any further. It becomes a mess of hands flying between the two of us. Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! You are not pennywise and we don’t all float here! The building shaking again distracts me for a moment, but it gives her an opening and she places a hand on my arm while activating her quirk. Slowly the floor starts to get further away, and I try to reach out to grab anything that can steady me without success. Instead of floating straight up like I had expected, I can feel myself start to float in the direction that Iida and I had been standing. Suddenly I feel my stomach sink and my body is no longer weightless as I slam down into the floor knocking all of the air out of me. I’m gonna remember that.

It takes a moment for me to regain my breath, but when I finally do Iida reaches his hand out to help me up. The sound of Urarka talking into her comm reaches my ears and I look over to see her grabbing onto a pillar. What are you- the building begins to shake again, but this time stronger than before. “Iida I would grab onto something if I were you.” Before either of us could move a giant explosion blasted up through the floor. To keep my balance I grabbed onto Iida. When the explosion stopped a cloud of dust remained. Something seemed to be moving within the dust and I squinted to try to make out what it was. The shape of rocks moving towards us became more apparent and the two of us ducked to cover our heads. From behind us, we heard the sound of Uraraka cheering as she came in contact with the weapon.

“The hero team wins!” It is what it is. The three of us walk down to the ground level where a medical bed is taking Midoriya away to Recovery Girl through the giant hole in the side of the building. All Might stands there amongst the rubble watching as the bed carries away one of his students. He turns to look at the remaining four of us and leads us in the direction of the observation room. The class is silent as we walk in. All Might walks to his chair and turns to look at the four of us. “While the heroes may have won this fight the true MVPs were Iida and Grace.” Mummers fill the room as our classmates talk amongst themselves. “Does anyone know why?” Momo steps forward. “The two of them discussed a plan to ensure that their opponent was at a disadvantage. They were aware of their opponent’s skill and prepared for it. They were aware of their surroundings, Grace especially. While it is okay to separate sometimes on a mission it is best to stay together, and that is what they did.” I glance over at Bakugou, but he’s looking down with his hands clenched into a fist and his teeth clenched. All Might called for the next group to go, but I didn’t pay attention to who was next, instead I chose to sit in the corner of the room and take a nap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everyone completed the training exercise All Might excused us to go change and head back to the class. I was the first back in the classroom. Rather than sit at my desk, I perched myself on the windowsill to watch the world outside. Slowly everyone began to trickle back into the classroom, all except Bakugou, and the classroom began to bustle with noise once again. The door to the classroom opens and I turn to see who it is. Midoriya stands in the doorway with his arm lightly wrapped up. Everybody crowds around Midoriya, but I remain where I am staring out the window.

A familiar head of blond hair emerges from the school. I move to grab my bag, but before I leave the window I notice a head of green hair that can only be midoriya chasing after Bakugou. The two of them seem to talk, well Midoriya seems to be talking, Bakugou seems to be yelling. Bakugou turns to walk away again, but All Might appears practically out of thin air. Bakugou keeps his back to the two of them as All Might talks to him. The interaction doesn’t last long before Bakugou starts to walk away again. All Might and Deku stand there for a moment before All Might places a hand on his shoulder and leads him back into the building. While Bakugou is still in sight I grab my backpack off of the ground and throw the window open. I jump out Alice style and a familiar tingling sensation radiates between my shoulder blades as a pair of blue and purple butterfly wings sprout. I flutter over just behind the angry blonde and will my wings away. I walk a little faster to stand beside him and then slow down so that I can walk beside him as he stomps away like a little gremlin. He doesn’t look over at me, but I can tell that he knows that it’s me. “What the hell do you want?” What do I want? Why am I even here? He's not my friend. He's not even an acquaintance. I step in front of him and stop causing him to stop as well. For the first time, I offer him a small smile. “Let’s go grab frozen yogurt. My treat.” I don’t give him time, I just grab his wrist and drag him to the shop that I saw on the walk to school this morning.

When we get there the young man at the front counter greets us in a bubbly tone as he hands us our cups to go fill up. I filled my cup with coconut froyo topped with strawberry boba, coconut shavings, and three cherries. when I walk to the register bakugou is already standing there with his cup half full of chocolate with some granola and a single cherry.” you sure that’s all you want? I don’t mind, Ava usually gets two full cups when I pay so if you're concerned about the price being too high don’t worry about it.” He scowls at me a growl bubbling up from the back of his throat.” Shut the hell up and weigh your cup.” I place my cup on the scale and raise my hands in mock surrender.” All alright, alright I was just being nice.” I reach behind me to grab my wallet out of my bag. When I finally find it and turn around to pay I see the clerk handing Bakugou money.” What are you doing? I was gonna pay for your stuff.”Bakugou shoves his money angrily back into his pocket and yanks his froyo off of the scale.” I don’t need some damn extra paying for my food when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. Now grab you shit so we can go.” Bakugou doesn’t even wait for me before he walks out of the shop. I turn and thank the guy behind the counter before I grab my froyo and follow after Bakugou. We walk in silence as we eat until in the distance I spot a park and dash toward it.” Hey, where the hell are you going!” I spot a trashcan and as I dash past it I throw away my cup but continue my path to my destination. When I reach the object behind my excitement I throw down my backpack and practically throw myself into the seat of the swing. By the time Bakugou reaches me I've obtained a pretty good height.” What the hell was that!” I close my eyes as the wind whips past me.” I haven’t been on a swing since I was a kid! My mom used to bring my sisters and me to the park all the time before-.” A memory flashes behind my eyelids and I snap my eyes open. I stop kicking my legs and my swing slowly loses momentum until it just slightly sways. Bakugou looks at me with the same scowl on his face but a gleam of curiosity sparks in his eyes.” Why don’t you sit with me. Not on the same swing of course, but it’s a nice day out today. the fresh air will do you some good.” he looked down at me like I was stupid for a moment. To be honest, at this moment I feel stupid. In the end, he sits down on the swing.his swing slightly sways as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet.

A nice silence settles between the two of us that lasts for maybe ten to fifteen minutes before Bakugou breaks the silence.” Why did you invite me to get frozen yogurt with you?” I look over at him, but he’s looking straight ahead. “First of all, just say froyo dude. And I guess you just seemed like you needed a pick me up.” He looks over at me, his signature scowl plastered on his face. “So what is this out of pity or something! I don’t need pity from some damn extra! I don’t need pity from anyone!” In his tangent, he stood from his swing and moved in front to stand in front of me. “ Woah, Woah, Woah. who said anything about pity. Because I know damn well that word never left my mouth. Did you hear me say ‘oh poor Bakugou’? No cause those words never left my lips. I tried to be nice because even though I don't know what it is that made you mad, frustrated, or whatever emotion you're feeling I know what it’s like to be suffering by yourself. When you're so blinded by whatever you're feeling that it feels like you're drowning in it, but I also know what it’s like to have someone with you even if it’s just sitting in silence together. I was trying to be nice, but you wanted to be an bitch. Do me a favor and get your head out of your ass because it ain’t a hat. Now if you excuse me I’m going home.” I push past him and grab my bag as I begin the journey home.

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