#but what separates you from a nose picking 4 year old is the ability to know where the joke can come to a comfortable stop
Text
🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 22: Illumi x Tradition🎄
The suspense that comes around, just days before Christmas is always special for you. Suspense, mixed with Christmas cheer, a feeling like the one you had as a child, anticipating the arrival of Santa and all the things you’d wished for were fast approaching. Now, being older, it still applied, but it had now gotten the excitement of spending a day with loved ones, in a romantic atmosphere that only the Christmas season could offer you. Hallelujah by Pentatonix
Taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow , @lifescreams27, @twistedsmth, @dukinaxael, @weeb-chick-181920
With Christmas comes traditions, like most families or couples or friend groups have. Be it ice skating, an annual snow ball fight turning to a snowy royale, a gingerbread competition, or a most epic Christmas party, all in the name of the holidays do they make the season that much brighter. Illumi’s family had a tradition as well, it seemed, yet he hadn’t told you what it was. You’d only heard of it in bits and pieces, whispers behind closed doors and knowing looks from his siblings that it would most certainly involve you. Knowing how his family is and how they function, you’d been hoping the whole time it wasn’t anything awful.
A week prior, Illumi had taken you shopping, telling you to pick out something red or gold, with matching shoes. Not just anything, though. Givenchy, YSL, Gucci, Prada, you name it. He brought you to every designer store you could imagine for you to pick out something stunning to wear. Upon asking him why he was intent on spoiling you for seemingly no reason, or at least a secret one (which, to be fair, he does quite often, seeing as he doesn’t know “how else should he spend his money”, besides spending it on you) this time, it was shrouded in secrecy, answering with “just pick something” whenever you asked if there was a special occasion. The both of you know you have your wits about you, and that you’d been picking up pieces of hints about this special tradition he his family has, so naturally you suspected it was for the previously mentioned event, and he knew you’d put two and two together, despite treating you like you had no clue about an event beyond your own nose. You did pick something out eventually, something both red and gold, with accessories and shoes to match, making you look quite festive yet effortlessly classy. It’d been sitting in your closet, separated from everything else you owned, and glaringly obvious that it was very much out of your usual price range. The days passed slowly, and the outfit, sitting in your closet and sticking out like a sore thumb almost began to bother you. Clearly you knew where you were supposed to wear this too, but you also didn’t. Illumi was always very keen about no secrets in the relationship you two had, with the exception of the gory details of his work. If he had somewhere to take you, he always told you where and when, seeing as there was no reason to hide it from you. The desire to know just what this was for was eating at you slowly, again, like the anticipation of Christmas day for young children.
Siting in your kitchen, the thoughts of the poorly shrouded secret and the outfit managed to slither into your thoughts again, making you roll your eyes in frustration. You might as well call Illumi and ask him just what the hell is going on.
However, as if sensing your thoughts (which, who knows, that ability may very well be something he has), your front door swung open, producing a slightly snow covered Illumi.
As a note, the snow covered Illumi is quite the precious sight. He was bundled up quite nicely, his dark hair poking out just a bit between his beanie and his scarf, as well as the tip of his nose and his cheeks peeped out, flushed red from the cold air. He looked soft, and in need of warmth.
Over time he’d gotten used to being up front about wanting certain things from you, so, stretching his arms out (rather stiffly, though) he opened them a bit, signalling you hug him.
Smiling, you made your way over to him and took him up on the offer, burying your face in his chest. He hummed a little at your warmth, and patted your head gently, his trademark show of affection.
“Hello y/n.” he said, now gently caressing your hair.
“Hi! What brings you here?” you replied, looking up at him and beaming.
He blushed a little, knowing what your smile does to him, and he knew that you knew as well.
Stepping inside, he unzipped his jacket and pulled out a small envelope with a silver wax seal, and cracked it, allowing the small envelope to flap open. Handing it to you, he put his hands to work, removing the scarf and hat, along with his jacket.
Inspecting the letter, it was more an invitation than anything else. Seemingly expensive, thick paper with delicate gold engravings outlined the border of the invitation, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the design. The invitation seemed to be entirely hand written, nothing was printed, and the calligraphy on its own was stunning.
You glanced up at Illumi and almost caught a look of nervous anticipation from him, like this was the biggest moment of his life. Very rarely was he like that, so the weight of whatever your response was to this paper seemed to be causing him tension.
Looking back down at the invitation, you couldn’t help but smile.
It was an invitation to a ball of sorts, a very elevated Christmas party held by Illumi’s family. A seasonal Christmas garden would be in show, as well as a small dance and a dinner.
Smiling at Illumi, you walked up to him, placing a few gentle kisses on his face. Pulling away, his face was flushed red, and he had a gentle look of awe about him as you watched him, smiling ear to ear.
“Of course I’ll go with you for this…” you trailed off, because sure, it was a party of sorts, but with his family it couldn’t just be any old party.
“Tradition, y/n. This is a tradition. And..thank you.” He finished for you, staring at you, studying your face as he always does.
“Tradition? A ball? This is essentially what it is…” you said, looking over the letter again.
Illumi nodded, tracing a finger over your facial features.
You slipped on the outfit that Illumi had been so intent on buying for you a week ago, studying yourself in the mirror. Giving yourself a little spin, you watched the fabric flutter in the air, the gold detailing sparkling in the low lighting of your room. Illumi had said he’d be picking you up at 5pm, and it was already 4:50pm. Gathering your belongings, you made your way downstairs and out the front door.
Standing there, looking as sharp as ever in a black suit, with a deep red jacket to match your own outfit, stood Illumi, waiting beside a limousene, and glancing at his watch every 5 seconds. Glancing up from his watch, he did a double take, his eyes resting upon you. You smiled and waved, and you panicked a little, because he looked like he might fall over where he stood. The tips of his ears were red, and his cheeks were as red as his jacket, and his eyes were looking you over with burning intensity.
Approaching him, he continued to look you over, in an even more intense gaze, running his fingers over the slope of your shoulder, the curve of your jaw, placing his hand on your waist. Smiling up at him, you gave him a little spin, even if he probably wouldn’t react to it. He simply smiled back gently, and stepped aside to open the limo door for you. Taking the lead, you stepped inside and made yourself comfortable as he shut the door and walked around, getting in the limo himself.
“You look good, y/n.” he said, looking you over once more.
“Thank you, Lumi! You look wonderful too…” you returned, gently taking his hand and playing with it.
After some time, you arrived at the Zoldyck estate, and you almost gasped. Behind those steel dark doors was a lush, winter wonderland, with small lights decorating the trees. The snow itself looked magical and ethereal, and you were taken aback with how gentle such a place could look. Upon getting closer to where the ball would be held, you finally let that gasp slip from your lips, letting it glide into a nostalgic smile. The gardens and the outside in general was magical in every sense of the word, like a small glimpse of a Christmas town tucked away in the mountains.
After a few more minutes, the limo stopped and you were escorted out, Illumi meeting you on your side, extending his arm to you, so that you may slip your arm in his. Doing so, you walked with him indoors, greeted by the gentle scent of pine needles and peppermint, a cozy atmosphere floating around like gentle hazy smoke from a fireplace.
You greeted Illumi’s family and the other guests, which included Killua’s close friends, seeing as he had no date.
For some time, Illumi took you to explore the estate, watching you bubble about the Christmas decorations and how wonderful everything looked, answering your questions about how long it took to this, and how many years back the tradition went back. After some time, he walked you over to the dining hall, where a lavish display of food was set out, and everyone was seating themselves while being served.
Dinner was eventful but not bustling, light conversation about work and Christmas, family traditions and how wonderful you looked, and how you’d make a lovely in-law, causing Illumi to flush scarlet.
After dinner, there was a moment to dance a little, but Illumi declined, saying he’d rather not make you uncomfortable in this situation.
In a move much unlike him, Illumi snuck you outside into the gardens, beautifully decorated and gently lit, with a circular center clear of snow. Looking at him, you searched for whatever motivated him to whisk you outside into the December air.
Standing in the middle of the circle, he realized he was holding both of your hands and looking at them calmly, feeling over your knuckles with soft movements. Finally having a chance alone with him, you took in his features; soft, pink tinted cheeks from the cold, his hair in a low bun, with small wisps framing his face, his lashes catching small snowflakes as they’d begun to fall down. His eyes were always soft around you, his entire demeanor relaxed and became vulnerable around you, an aspect of your relationship and his personality that you cherished deeply.
“YN.” he said, his gaze finding yours, soft and full of earnestness.
“Mmm?” you replied, gently smiling up at him, returning the gentle touches on his hands.
“Dance with me. Here.” he (sort of) asked, pulling you closer, fixing one of your hands on his shoulder, the other slightly raised with his own. Music from the house was playing just loud enough for you to hear; Hallelujah but almost an acapella version, heavenly and bold, but with a lightness to it. You nodded, accepting his request.
He stepped back, and you stepped forward as he brought you into a waltz, slowly at first. A gentle, rotational dance, slowly helping you find your rhythm as he leads you along.
I’ve heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord.
Gently rubbing his thumb against your back, you could feel his heart falling in sync with yours as he spun you a little, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t smile.
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…
He kept his pace, yet he widened his steps, allowing you to cover more of the circle in the garden. You followed suit, the rhythm flowing nicely between the two of you, hearts in sync. You let your head fall against his chest, and he hugged your waist a little tighter, holding you closer to him silently.
And love is not a victory march, it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah…
And surprisingly, a waltz is not dizzying, as one may suspect from watching a pair dance a waltz. However, a waltz is not dizzying for lovers, for it can also be described as hypnotic. Gentle yet strong, a gentle spin, a chaste dip, the feeling of hands in another's, hearts in sync, nothing else to exist but lovers and music, a waltz combining two hearts into a hypnotic tangle, steps not matter, they fall away.
And maybe there’s a God above, but all I’ve ever learned from love…
On the edge of what the future holds bold, untold, the folds of the universe, that balance between reality and unimaginable dreams of dancing, of harmony, of romance, feelings of not feeling anything and feeling the earth's tremors beneath your feet, feeling as you move with a lover, a forever, a walking home, a someone you cherish.
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light…
And what do we dance for? Lovers in the midst of a waltz, where everything’s fallen away? love? For love? With love? By love?
It doesn’t matter, really.
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah…
Nothing matters in a moment of a waltz, in the chorus of a song, in a tangle of hearts mixing with a hypnotic movement of feet, falling into trance, into step, while two lovers fall in love.
Hallelujah…
Hallelujah…
Hallelujah…
Illumi was just as lost as you were, in a blur of a waltz, picking up a startling pace, yet it felt light and beautiful, the blur of snowflakes dancing and falling around you, like small blessings in the dimly lit surroundings of the garden. Holding you as close as he could, falling deeper into the dance that, in reality, had lasted for 3 minutes so far.
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
You could stay like this forever, dancing in his garden, the wintery atmosphere blessing you both with love and spirit and feverish desires for forever to be found between the two of you.
Illumi slowed down with the low, fading out hum of voices from the song, feeling the December cold reach back to you, bringing you down from a gentle euphoria.
You couldn’t be bothered to speak, you felt as though feeling your heart beat with his, his hands still in yours, minimal space between you was loud enough of a response.
#anime#anime fluff#anime headcanons#Hunter X Hunter#hunter x hunter headcanon#hunter x hunter x reader#hunter x hunter fluff#hxh#hxh imagines#hxh headcanons#hxh fluff#illumi#illumi zoldyck#illumi x reader#illumi headcanons#illumi fluff#hxh christmas#25 Days of HXH CCB
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
Magnetic - Part 6
Summary: You and Kihyun hadn’t worked as a couple. The fighting was endless, and no make-up sex could repair the damage unfolding between you. Years on, you cross paths with the man again. Will it be the same as before?
Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x female reader
Genre: exes to lovers / angst / romance
Warnings: none
Word count: 953
Prompt: “It’ll get better, right?”
A/N: This is for the Challenging Words February challenge. The intention of this story is to be shorter in length than my usual series. Most parts will be under 1000 words.
Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
“How did we fight so much in the past?” you wondered as you snuggled into Kihyun’s side and looked up at the man. “We’ve been together now for eight months without a single argument.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Kihyun mentioned with a chuckle, playfully bopping you on the nose. “We bicker often.”
“You know what I mean.” Sitting up from his side, you reached for one of his hands instead and fiddled with his fingers. “Those moments in the past happened from stupid things like what we bicker over now.”
“I was jealous a lot back then. You were always so carefree and talked to anyone. I think a lot of the fights stemmed from my insecurities. I was worried I was going to lose you. And then I got an ego boost every time you came back. I can’t say I’m proud of my actions back then, but I understand them a little more now.”
“Because of the therapy you did?”
Kihyun nodded.
“I’m proud of you. I just cried until I didn’t anymore and never really focused on why I would act as I did. Ashley reminded me that I was really stressed during university. It’s funny that you saw me as carefree.”
“What I see now is a different woman from back then, and I want to only focus on the one I’m holding within my arms now,” Kihyun announced, slipping his arms around your waist and scooted in close. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Can I bring it up again?” Kihyun asked, and you cocked your head to the side with interest. “I know, there’s no rush. But at the same time, we’re both paying rent for places we hardly stay in for more than two days in a row. You’ve stayed here for a week, and I was at yours for ten days last time. Let’s move in together, yeah?”
You had been withholding from saying yes for the past month to moving in together with Kihyun again. It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to share a space with him. You were practically living together now.
The idea of it being official worried you. At least with two homes, you had something to fall back on if something were to go awry.
Yet, you could tell this whole relationship was different from the last. You were both mature and more balanced with each other. You could grant each other space when you needed it and equally comforted the other when feeling needy. You knew what you had with Kihyun was better than any relationship you had in between your first one with him.
It was time to take another leap.
“Okay, let’s move in together. Should we move here or go back to mine?”
“I don’t care which one we pick,” Kihyun announced, kissing you happily. “I just want to be with you always.”
It was bound to happen, eventually.
You couldn’t go the rest of your life as Kihyun’s partner without fighting at least once. And whilst it wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, you were sitting on the bedroom floor crying, wondering if moving in together three months ago had been the right decision after all.
You had only started fighting with Kihyun when you moved into his college apartment too.
No, you told yourself, sniffling back your tears. This isn’t like back then.
Because it wasn’t. You knew this was just a typical couple’s fight. Everyone had them. Kihyun had been stressed with work lately and snapped at you. Even though he had already apologised for it, you ran off to the bedroom and locked the door, his knocking to be let in soon stopping.
You guessed he had left to get some fresh air.
Getting up, you approached the door, stopping in the threshold when Kihyun looked up at you. His gaze washed over yours, and he smiled softly. “Are you okay?”
“I thought you had gone out.”
“Do you want me to?”
You shook your head, diving into his arms and holding on. You didn’t cry anymore, nor did you rush to imprint your lips upon his. You simply held onto him as he did the same to you in comfortable silence.
“It’ll get better, right?”
“Our responses to when this happens?” Kihyun questioned, and you nodded into him. “Of course. You’re scared thinking of what happened before. I can’t say I didn’t worry about it either, but I know we’re both capable of approaching things differently now.”
“I still have my clothes on,” you remarked, and Kihyun laughed.
“Would you like to take them off?”
“No. I like this way better. We never solved anything by physically reconnecting as we used to. I don’t need to feel you inside of me to know things are okay like I did back then.”
“Good. Because I’d much rather this too. Talking it through, holding each other calmly. This is how things will get better.”
“Do you reckon we’ll be like this forever?”
“Well, maybe I might want to show you I’ve still got the ability to blow your mind now and then when we’re old and grey after a fight,” Kihyun suggested with a mischievous grin, and you laughed heartily.
“Let’s make a deal with each other now,” you stated, and Kihyun waited for you to continue. “When we fight in the future, we never go to bed without talking it out first.”
“I like that. And even if we do need to separate from each other to cool down, we don’t leave the house to do it.”
“Deal.”
Holding out your hand, Kihyun shook it firmly, and you both smiled at each other.
Fighting wasn’t so bad anymore.
_________________
Part 7
All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft
[MONSTA X Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]
#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#kihyun fiction#kihyun fanfic#kihyun scenarios#kihyun fluff#kihyun au#monsta x fiction#monsta x fanfic#monsta x fluff#monsta x scenarios#monsta x au#pwyl; magnetic#kpop fiction#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#kpop scenarios
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
It should have been easy
Hi, remember me? I wrote a thing, a while back. It was for a private writing group’s challenge- we do mini writing challenges sometimes to encourage ourselves to grow and explore as writers without the stress of public consumption. Figured I’d share this one after giving it a final edit because I honestly liked it. The topic of the challenge was a fic involving superglue.
Warnings: Passing mention of the Pandemic and a few unimportant details from Stephen King’s The Stand- I happened to have been reading that book at the time of writing.
Rating: PG13- some passive mentions
It should have been easy…
Fixing the bloody overpriced Barbie toy seemed like an easy task. It was just a little piece of cheap plastic that broke off the arm of the pretty pink stethoscope. It shouldn’t have been this hard. It didn’t seem like it would be this hard. Why the bloody hell was it this hard?
“We’ll just get her a new one. She’s on a baby- doctor kick anyway and would love more Barbie babies and another Barbie doctor. She could have a whole damn nursery.” Cassie had said and he scoffed at her.
“I can fix it. Just a dab of superglue and it’ll be right as rain.” It seemed so bloody easy. It should have been so damned easy. Why wasn’t it so fucking easy?
“Shut up, you.” Tom grumbled at Cassie, curled up in the arm chair with a large worn book in her lap. The spine read “The Stand” by Stephen King. He didn’t know how she could stand reading horror stories though she insisted this one wasn’t scary, just a little global world ending pandemic with a side of a demon man thing taking over Las Vegas- Not scary at all, or so she said. “That book’s making you as sadistic as the author.”
“Right.” She laughed, musical and completely at his expense. He struggled to bite back a laugh. Sassie Sarah was asleep in her bed upstairs, completely unaware of the battle of wills downstairs. “Shall I place the order for the new one yet? Or would you rather I waited until you’re actually pissed off at it?”
“I’ve got this.” Tom snipped back. This was their way- bickering and bantering. There was comfort in it. There was safety in it- to be able to snap and not have the world watching. To not worry about one wrong step being blasted across tabloids. To not have to fake a smile.
“Mmhmm” she hummed, nose returning to the well loved pages of the old hardback book and the early stages of Captain Trips making it’s way around the globe. The book had a renewed ability to grip her as the pandemic raged around the world- not nearly as deadly and not unleashed by the Crimson King but a pandemic just the same. “Don’t glue your fingers together.”
“I’m not a child.” Tom glanced up, placing the dob of glue on the pink end and lining up the other end. This was the third glue he tried, the other two didn’t bond fast enough and were washed away. This was his last chance to be right- superglue.
The plastic slipped and he pinched it together, realizing as he did it that he was making a terrible mistake. “Oh, son of a-”
“Glued your fingers to it, didn’t you?” Cassie asked, not looking up from the pages and Larry Underwood’s goodbye to New York. Tom glanced at her and though her nose was in the book, a smirk was upon her lips.
“No.”
“Show me then.” Her eyes flicked up, leaving the world of The Stand for a moment and meeting his.
With all the showmanship of any actor, he held his hand up and to the side and tried to separate his fingers, fully confident that they would indeed separate. The pads of his fingertips held tightly against one another, plastic stethoscope firmly between them even as the muscles and bones of his long fingers tugged to pull them apart.
“They look glued together to me.” Cassie said, laughing.
“Are not.” Tom answered, showing the maturity one would more expect from their daughter than from a grown man.
“Are too.” She clearly wasn’t above such immature antics either.
“Are not.”
“Prove it.” Cassie closed her book, finger pinched between the pages to hold her place. Not that it mattered, she had the basic story memorized by this point.
Tom pulled his fingers apart with more force this time. He tried not to let his face show anything as the skin ripped apart. For an actor, he didn’t do a very good job of it, he knew. When they separated, he gave a triumphant look to her and said, “See!”
She lost it then. Laughter ripped through her and poured from her. She couldn’t make words that made any sense. “Yo-Y-You” She stammered out followed by “It-i-it’s” And another wave of laughter.
“What?” Tom asked, pouting up at her from his place sitting on the floor. She answered with only more laughter and broken sounds that were sometimes something close to words. It was then that he actually looked at his fingers.
On his thumb was a pink line of plastic, the broken earpiece of the pretty pink Barbie Stethoscope. On the pad of his index finger was the rest of the stethoscope. Neither piece was obeying the laws of gravity and both seemed firmly affixed to the pads of his fingers. For all the trouble he had gone through, the pieces were very much not glued to each other.
“Fuck.” His utterance only set off another wave of laughter from her. “Why did I marry you again?”
“Should I order the toy?” She managed to get out. “Are you ready to admit defeat?”
“Fuck you.” He answered, attempting to bring himself to his feet with the goal of washing the glue from his hand. He quickly found he had no feeling from the knee down on his left side and nearly fell over on himself. “Shut up.” He whined. “You’re getting old too.”
Peek comeback, Tom. Bobby yelped once from his place on the dog bed, cheering his master on. Cassie would surely say the dog was laughing at him but he refused to let her speak for his dog. And in moments like this, Bobby was clearly his dog in his mind. Anything to build a bigger team to prove he was right.
Water didn’t do jack all to wash the glue away. Tom came back into the room picking at the glue on his fingertips, annoyed. “How the bloody hell do you get this shit off?”
“You don’t. It’s there forever, until your fingers shed the skin. You’re now part plastic.”
“Did I mention, fuck you?” Tom jabbed back, finally losing the battle to keep the smile from his lips.
“I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m into plastic men…” Cassie laughed.
“I think I could convince you.” Tom said and the air in the room seemed to change, growing heavy. “That is, if your entertainment at my expense didn’t wake Sarah.”
Cassie set her book aside and poured herself from the chair. “I doubt it.” She said before pulling the clip from her hair. Long brown curls tumbled down her back and he longed to run his fingers through it. There was something sexy about the way she laughed, even after five years. Even if she was laughing at his expense.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag List: @dangertoozmanykids101 @alexakeyloveloki, @winterisakiller, @theoneanna, @alcoholic-muffin, @bambamwolf87, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @wegingerangelica, @tinchentitri, @queenoftheunderdark, @xoxabs88xox, @theheartofpenelope, @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123, @myoxisbroken
#tom hiddleston rpf#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston x original female character#pandemic fic
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Breaking Free - BTS (M)
btsIf you’ve enjoyed my story please share & visit the link at the bottom to view the rest. Thank you!
Main characters : Kim Namjoon & a girl an average girl named Jenilyn. All BTS members are side characters. Suga becomes a main character in later chapters.
Genre/Warning : Written as a Kdrama. 18+ Triggers for mature content, emotional abuse, physical assault, violence, & sexual content. Later chapters may contain mental instability, drug use, racial undertones and sexual assault. Read with caution.
Length of Fic : Very long, at least a novel or two in length currently. It is not completed.
Summary : Purely by chance, a ordinary girl's life is forever changed by her favorite man-band. The simple act of choosing a new career path sets off a chain of events taking her on a journey of love, jealousy, heartbreak, desire, destiny, & drama. With a target on her back she fights to stand tall in the face of adversity.
I tried to make this story very digestible for new and old army. There is a lot of the fandom put into it and I tried to keep their personalities as close to accurate as possible.
Chapter 1 - The Meeting
It had been a long night. One of those nights that make you question why you even work there anymore. She was alone, as she usually was. The gift shop was small - only the sound of the FM radio, 90s, 00's and today's. There had not been a customer in hours. It was late, but nearing the end of her shift. She went to the restroom where she could see the eyeliner rubbing under her eyes. She did her best to fix it and laughed at herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair, now frizzy and limp from a long day - rested on her shoulders, cascading down her upper back. Why is it I'm always the one covering the shift when someone calls off, she asked herself. Her breasts were large and bouncy, held up by a small waist. Her hips were wide with an ass to match. She looked ridiculous. Thank god I can go home soon, she thought. The white tee looked stretched out from the day. She untied the black and white flannel shirt she had tied around her waist and put it on over her shirt. Her skinny jeans had torn a little more from when she had put them on, exposing more of her thighs than she liked. She thought about how she looked and quickly brushed it off - it was closing time soon anyway. She planned to crawl into bed as soon as she could.
It was 15 minutes until closing when she noticed lights in front of the store. She had already turned off some of the overhead lights, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness - the headlights all but blinded her.
Great, last-minute customers, she thought to herself, the absolute worst kind.
She could see many figures getting out of what looked like a bus. One by one, seven entered the store. Each bringing multiple pieces of luggage and handbags. They all looked tired, and perhaps a little angry. One last man entered after them. Entering the store he removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his jacket pocket. The man looked tall, mature. Thick black hair and of clear Asian decent. He had slightly beady eyes and a rounded nose. His lips were thick and dark.
"Hi! Can I help you?" she asked loudly from across the store.
The older man walked to her counter, offering out his hand, "Seijin" he smiled. "I know it's late. Our vehicle broke down and there isn't much around here. I realize this is a campground, but I'm hoping you may have somewhere we can stay?"
She took his hand and shook. She looked to the boys, to Seijin, and back again. Trying to piece together what she was seeing, she managed to spit out, "Um, yeah! We should have something available. Let me find out for you. Are you wanting 8 rentals?" She asked him. He nodded.
She could see that some of the boys had sat down on the floor, two more laid down, resting their heads on their bags. There was one in particular who laid on the other members of the group, flopping his arms and legs enthusiastically over them. Another slowly walked around, picking up things and calling to the others to look at what he found before setting the item back down. He was curious about all the oddities to seen around him.
She made a few phones calls and figured out availability. "Okay so, we have 4 deluxe rentals, and 4 regular. The deluxe come with linens but ---" she paused "the regulars do not." She braced herself for him to cop an attitude with her - her years in the recreation industry had toughened her skin giving her the ability to handle any disgruntled customer with ease. She tried not too let it bother her too much, that's just how it was - being mad about it wouldn't change it.
"Okay" one of the boys on the floor groaned, loudly. It sounded like he wanted to lay on an actual bed as quickly as possible.
Seijin laughed at the boy who groaned, "I guess that's fine, then."
She made him a map of where the rentals were located. The park spanned a total of 80 acres. She handed it to him and vaguely gestured to where they were located, which was all over the map in different areas.
He looked down to study it, seeing that all of them were in different parts of the campground he said, "I hate to ask another favor but can you possibly take them to the rooms? They are exhausted - it's been a tough day. Anonymity is of importance."
Still slightly stunned from the strangeness of it all, she managed to get out, "Yeah for sure, but I can't leave for 10 mins when I can close up shop." She pointed to the clock above her.
Seijin, "That is just fine. Boys." He turned towards the boys, who seemed to be getting comfortable on the floor, "do you want to get any snacks before the nice girl closes?"
She laughed to herself. Girl. She was in her early 30s, far from a girl. Although she had always presented younger. Coworkers always assumed she was in her early 20s. She didn't bother to correct them. It must be her skin care routine. In her mind if you act young, you stay young. It had worked well so far.
A few of the boys jumped up. One boy followed the others around explaining what things were as they picked them up. They spoke a foreign language that sounded extremely familiar to her, perhaps a movie she watched with subtitles. Even though they spoke a different language, they riddled each other with English phrases, often spurting out words like "Ok" "Yes!" "Let's go" or "Fighting". The boy following them around laughed and shook his head, often covering his face with his hands. He's super cute, she thought to herself as she watched them walk around the store.
While the boys walked around, another man entered the store, he immediately walked to the counter and greeted Jen. He was tall and just slightly on the chubby side, he had a full beard and looked like he lived in the country his entire life. The boy following the others around the store gave him a side-eye, paying close attention to their conversation. As the member of the group most fluent in English it was hard for him not to listen. Their conversation sounded like they knew each other extremely well.
"Hey Jen" he called.
"Oh hey, Brody!" she chimed, "it's late what are you doing here?"
"We're leaving tonight" he mentioned, "someone at work got into an accident and I have to work tomorrow after all."
"Oh" she said, her voice sounding slightly disappointed.
"I'm really sorry" he apologized, "you know I was really looking forward to seeing you."
She nodded, "it's fine, we'll get together another time."
He laughed, "yeah I hope so." He looked around the store to see the guys walking around, "do you know them?"
"I don't" she said, "they just booked some rentals for the night."
"Nice to meet you" he yelled through the store, "I'm Brody."
The guys turned around and mumbled hellos to him for a second before continuing on their way.
"Not very friendly" he murmured.
Jen laughed, "give them a break, I'm pretty sure they are foreigners."
"I can see that" he said, looking to them again. He moved his gaze back to her. He gave her a big smile and dropped his head sideways.
She laughed, knowing he wanted a hug before he left.
She walked around the counter and gave him a big hug. His arms wrapped around her so tightly they arms reached his body again on the opposite side. He hummed while he hugged her before picking her up in the air and setting her back down.
The boy following the others couldn't help but notice her. She has great body lines, he thought to himself. During the hug, her back faced him.
She stepped back from him, "drive safe."
He leaned forward quickly to whisper in her ear, "the tall one is checking you out." She turned around quickly to find him staring in their direction, only to quickly look away. Jen giggled.
He nodded, "I'll talk to you soon" he said before turning to leave.
She turned around as one of the boys opened the fridge and loudly yelled "SPRITE!" in plain English. The other boys laughed next to him, each grabbing their own drinks. Lots of bottled water and Gatorade - the typical drinks any young guy would choose.
Items were piling up on the counter : chips, snacks, sprite, bottles of water, slim jims - even cups of ramen noodles. Enough snacks and drinks for seven.
She packed up the items, making sure to bag the items separately. Each took their bag and went back to sit on the floor. They seemed a little happier and began eating their snacks. The sounds of snack bags crinkling covered up the music on the radio. She could hear light conversation and laughter coming from them. They reminded her of children.
The last boy stepped up to the counter, shaking his head and laughing, "These guys act like they haven't eaten in days. How much do we owe?"
He was extremely exotic looking. His heart shaped face matched perfectly with his thin eyebrows. He had somewhat soft cheekbones and jawline. His chin sharp when he smiled. His lips were gorgeous and full. She always preferred men who looked different - normal was boring to her. His hair looked to be between a blonde and silver with a hint of blue, as if it was fading out. He stood tall and lean, towering over her 5'4" frame. His shoulders back, he knew how to carry himself to make others feel slightly intimidated. She wasn't intimidated by him in the least, but she did think he was attractive.
She laughed, "$134.89" From the looks of it, they had a very long day.
The boy threw his head back, looking at the others happily eating their snacks. He handed her a credit card. She ran the card on what seemed like an ancient credit card reader.
"Boyfriend?" he asked in very clear English, his voice low and deep.
"Huh?" she asked.
"Brody" he smiled, "is he your boyfriend?"
"Oh god no" she laughed, "we're just friends."
"Not interested in him?" he asked, curiously.
"I um.." she thought for a minute on how she should respond, "We've known each other since we were teens. At one point we considered dating - on our first date we went to see a harry potter movie so that tells you how long ago that was."
He laughed and nodded, "didn't hit it off?"
"We did but--" she laughed, "it turns out he's in love with his best friend and I wasn't trying to get involved with that."
He grimaced, "ouch."
"He's persistent, I'll give him that" she laughed, "to this day he's still chasing her and she has at least a few boyfriends at any given time."
"He's just basically a backup but he keeps his hopes up" she explained, "whatever works for him." She truly did hope he gave up the chase and found someone, she felt he needed it desperately.
He nodded thinking about all the strange things he learned while in America.
He fiddled with things on the counter, accidentally knocking some candy on to the floor. He would occasionally catch a passing glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking, only to sheepishly smile and look down to avoid direct eye contact.
"Sorry" he apologized, bending over to put them back. She laughed. He is clumsy in the cutest way, she thought to herself.
"I'm sorry this thing is so slow" she said nervously. She hated how long it took, waiting for it to finish made her anxious in his presence. Awkward forced conversations were a pet peeve of hers.
He shot her a sideways smile, dimple forming on his cheek. "That's okay" he said, flashing a peace sign over his right eye. "You can call me RM" he said, loosely introducing himself to her.
And just like that she knew exactly who he was. Who THEY were. Maybe it was how late it was, but she hadn't put two and two together. Her heart started racing, she gulped and tried to control her breathing. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG, she thought to herself.
Kim Namjoon, also known as RM was the leader, spokesperson and main rapper for one of the most popular K-Pop groups from South Korea. His singing voice a tenor while his rapping voice ventured closer to baritone - sometimes sounding almost throaty. He grew up in the small city of Islan. As a boy, he had big dreams of being a superhero and changing the world. He felt his music did just that. He chose the stage name of Rap Monster, later changing it to just RM - a better reflection of who he thought he was. During their debut, Namjoon was one of the most hated members. Often receiving hate from "fans" who claimed he shouldn't be in the group at all. He worked hard to prove the naysayers wrong. A lyricist by nature, he provides many of the lyrics for the group. His belief in the group so strong that when asked if he would like to go solo or stay with the group - he chose Bangtan Sonyeondan without hesitation. He believed in the group and each of its members without fault. He had a tendency to hold onto his feelings without letting others know, and doing so has lead him to depression and anxiety in the past. He struggled and continued to struggle with loving himself - something he admitted he will strive for until his death. Although he was technically the "middle child" of the group, he was considered to be in the hyung line - a term used in South Korea that meant eldest of the group. Lover of all things cute and quirky - he had many collections of toys and figurines. If he could choose his own middle name it would be fashion which doubled as his passion.
He looked back over to the guys, "I'm kind of like the leader of the group." He looked back at her and gave her the sweetest smile. His smile is so charming, she thought to herself.
She collected her thoughts before responding, "Jenilyn" pointing to her name tag. "You can just call me Jen."
The credit card finally went through, she handed him the card and receipt to sign.
She added the receipt to the register and checked the time. "One minute is close enough" she announced packing up her register. The boys rolled their luggage outside while she finished closing. She put her register drawer in the safe, turned off the lights and clocked out for the night.
Locking the front door to the gift shop, she turned around to say, "I can't fit all of you in my car at once. I can take two of you at a time." She pointed to her pearl white Hyundai Elantra in the parking lot.
"You guys want to introduce yourselves?" RM asked, suggesting the guys to be more polite towards her. He physically pushed one of them closer to her gently.
Two of the boys stepped forward while RM loaded their luggage.
"V" one said in a low tone, bowing slightly and avoiding eye contact. He was slightly shorter than RM, although he kept his head down making him feel even shorter, closer to her own height. His voice sultry and deep. When he did smile, his mouth formed an almost stretched out heart shape. His dark hair looked messy, slightly curly, covering his eyes. He looks like a shaggy puppy, she thought to herself. He had a beautiful set of eyelashes that would make any girl envious. He was extremely shy towards her. She imagined he would look great in a preppy sweater vest or a leather jacket, his beauty knew no bounds.
Kim Taehung, also known as V. - A quirky guy and baritone vocals for the group. Easily distracted by animals and would occasionally act a little strange - so much so that anti-fans dubbed him as an alien, a nickname which he hated. Considers his dog to be his child. Gets bored easily and sleeps with his eyes open - fans often wondered if he slept during American interviews. Originally considered to be the "pretty" one in the group. While it sounds like a compliment, it was more often used as an insult - that the only thing he had going for him were his looks. Like Namjoon, he worked hard to improve his vocal skills - proving everyone wrong. Very honest about his true feelings in the moment. He was the third youngest member of the group, making him part of the maknae line - a word used in South Korea that referred to the youngest. His personality and quirks made him seem much older than many of the group members.
She smiled at him, "Nice to meet you, V."
RM pushed the other boy on the back softly.
"Suga" he said. He was about an inch shorter than V. His hair also looked a little shaggy, although not as long as V's. His hair stopped just at the top of his eyebrows. His face somewhat round, with a chubby babydoll look. His eyes were dark and almost triangular in shape, as if he was judging the situation. They looked to be a cross between both monolid and double eye lids. His features were soft, even delicate at times. He pulled off the look well. The first thing she noticed about him was his confidence, nothing really seemed to bother him and he had no problems looking her in the eye. He didn't try to present himself in any particular way - he existed as he was. She loved that he could be that way.
Min Yoongi, known as Suga - Another rapper for the group and one of the fastest rappers in the industry of kpop. As a descendant of a very powerful clan during the Joseon dynasty, he had a rich heritage despite growing up poor. He spent much of his time producing his own music as well as music for the group. Slightly anti-social due to his social anxiety, he did the best he could in social situations. He could most often be found observing the group and letting the other guys lead the way. In his down time he liked to sleep, write lyrics and play games on his phone. He thought his fans to be the most special as he saw himself as average looking at best. Slightly obsessed with basketball, his favorite manga featured the sport. He didn't care to show certain parts of his body and remained covered at all times. He suffered from a shoulder injury he acquired during his trainee days, when he took a side job for extra cash. He kept his emotions well hidden, very rarely allowing his true feelings to escape. He remained a loud advocate for mental health and depression as his fight had been long and difficult. Loved to be hugged by the other members but pretended to hate it. Fans called him "sleepy" for his sleeping habits as well as "meow meow" for his cat-like appearance. Even though he looked the youngest, he was the second-eldest member of the group he - was hyung to all members aside from Jin. In their debut days, he felt like he got shafted by the company - he thought he'd be joining an all rap group and with focus on music production with little choreography required. Success and their fan base, known as ARMY, helped him come to terms with and accept his new life as an idol.
"Nice to meet you Suga" she said, opening the car door. Both boys sat in the back of the car, moving the pillows around in her back seat.
Everything in her car was galaxy themed - from the car seat covers to the pillows. Suga picked up one of the pillows, fluffing it in his hands. "You like stars?" he asked.
She laughed, reversing out of her parking space. "Yeah I really like the galaxy patterns. The colors are super pretty."
He nodded his head, placing the pillow next to him and using it as an arm rest.
"I actually have lights installed in the floorboard. Let me get going and I'll turn them on" she put the car in drive and slowly took off. The speed limit was 5 mph in the park. She flipped the switch located under her dash, lighting up the floorboards in purple lighting.
"Oh cool" Suga said checking out the floorboard. He stared at her dashboard, "Bluetooth?"
"Unfortunately, no. But I do have an aux" she said passing the cord back to him. He took the cord and plugged his phone in, playing the next song on his spotify. Drake.
"Do you listen to Drake?" he asked, curious about her.
"I do like Drake. I actually love almost all music" she said pulling into the parking space of the rental. She popped open her trunk. She got out and helped V with his luggage, handing him the key to the rental. She stepped into the rental really quick to show him some key features. "If you need to use the hot water you will need to push this button about 15 minutes in advance." He nodded and said "thanks."
She got back into the car with Suga, who had moved to the front seat in her absence. It had taken several minutes to get V all settled in, Suga still jamming out to Drake when she got back in.
"Geesh, you scared me" she laughed, seeing him in the front seat. He smiled a big smile at her. She pulled out of the parking spot and headed to his rental to drop him off.
"Anyway so as I was saying I really do love just about anything" she laughed, "I remember watching Drake on Degrassi when I was a kid. He was always one of my favorites. Drake is just slightly older than me so I was really at the right age to relate to those struggles in the show." She paused, "I spent a good deal of time watching it."
He smiled at her, still bobbing his head to the music. She pulled into the parking space for Suga's rental. She opened the trunk to help him with his bag.
She laughed, "Oh, wow. You only have one bag? You pack surprisingly light." She handed him the key. "There is extra bedding in the closet."
He smiled at her, his eyes looked tired but he remained attentive to her. "Can I text you?" he asked, holding his phone.
"I uhh.." she wasn't sure what to say.
"As friends" he said laughing slightly.
"Oh okay, sure" he handed her his phone and she entered her number, handing it back to him with a smile, "have a good night Suga."
She got back into her car and made her way up to the front again. She pulled into her parking space and got out, motioning for the next set of boys to get in. RM loaded their luggage into the back.
Another boy stepped up to introduce himself, this one slightly more aggressive than the others. "Jin" he said, "also known as worldwide handsome." He was tall, although slightly shorter than RM with dark hair. Lean, but stockier than the others - very broad shouldered. She imagined he would give a very comforting hug. His eyes were slightly cat-like, flattering his oblong face perfectly. His cheekbones and jawline strong. He had beautiful full lips that looked almost heart shaped when he didn't smile.
Kim Seokjin, Jin for short - Another vocal for the group - one that was renowned for being a "silver voice". His stable breathing and strong falsetto made him extremely versatile in all genres. A funny guy with a mild temper - he was considered the mom of the group, always making sure the guys were well taken care of - bringing them ice cream to cheer them up. Often times preparing meals and lunches for them. Cooking was another passion of his. He had a love of telling uncle jokes. His laugh was contagious and his face would turn red when he felt like people were staring at him too much. He was a terrible liar and loved to be complimented. Easy going until he got worked up - once slightly angered he would speak so fast it was hard to understand him. So handsome that his fans named him "Mr. Worldwide Handsome", meaning he was considered handsome in every country he visited. He was the eldest member of the group.
RM laughed while he put the luggage in the trunk, "It's late can we give the flirting a rest?" He rolled his eyes at Jin.
Jen smiled at Jin, he was very handsome, although in a very traditional sense. Very Hollywood actor. She preferred a man with more unique features but she could appreciate his beauty all the same. He obviously spent a great deal of time perfecting himself and he was proud. "Nice to meet you, worldwide handsome" she said giving him a smile.
His black hair fell over his face as he stepped forward, "Jungkook." His eyes were big and bright as if he was excited about something. Of all of them, he smelled the best, smelling slightly fruity with base notes of vanilla and chocolate. It smelled very familiar to her. He smells slightly feminine but it suits him well. I am pretty sure I own that perfume, she thought to herself. He had beautifully cut features, as if he could pull off both the innocent boy look and a badass at the same time. His lips featured a prominent cupid's bow and reminded her of her own lips. Very full on bottom with a slightly thinner upper lip. He looked sweet and innocent.
Jeon Jeongguk, stage name Jungkook. - For lack of a better word, he was the most "average guy" out of all of them. As the youngest member of the group he was known as the "golden" maknae - a term given to the absolute youngest member. Although he seemed like an average guy with his love of manga, food and video games - his outstanding appearance and professionalism told a different story. His vocals rivaled the greatest of singers - new and old. While the other members preferred to dress in expensive clothing, he stayed with his tried-and-true brands. He was one of if not the most popular member in the group. Fans gave him the nickname of Kookie. Despite their success he had average dreams - he wished to eventually get married and have kids, to settle down and live an average life. Training as an idol from a young age, he joined the group as a teen - his childlike demeanor still holding true. He had an uncanny ability for learning quickly and excelling at everything he tried. It often left him feeling like he needed work harder to feel like he worked just as hard as the other members, to the point of dehydration and exhaustion.
"Nice to meet you Jungkook" she said opening the car door. Jin sat in front with her, Jungkook in the back. Jungkook laid down in the backseat, getting comfortable on her pillows. I'll take him home last since he's so comfortable, she thought to herself. She handed the aux cord to Jin, "Suga wanted to listen to music on the way. You can too if you like." He nodded and set the cord down without playing music.
Her phone sat in the cup holder between the front seats. Her phone starting going off. Her text notification for one of her friends was, "Waste it on me", specifically, RM's part of the song all the way to the end. She quickly took the phone, placing it face down to end the notification. She laughed, slightly embarrassed.
Jungkook immediately started singing and continued singing after the notification stopped. He really does have a beautiful voice, she thought to herself. It was extremely soothing to her and made her feel more relaxed.
"A fan?" Jin asked, curiously looking at her.
She could feel her face getting flushed, "I am." She nodded hoping the moment passed quickly.
"You didn't ask for an autograph?" he asked, although it sounded more like a statement.
She smiled, pulling into the parking space for his rental, "You guys looked tired and honestly I'm not into that kind of thing." She stepped out of the vehicle to help him carry his bags.
He gave her a half smile and raised an eyebrow slightly, getting out of the car with her, "What do you mean?"
She opened the trunk and started removing his bags, setting them gently on the gravel, "I don't really like to get close to celebrities. I like to admire from afar." She paused and stared at him. "In my mind if I can give them one less crazed fan to worry about, maybe their lives will be a little more peaceful." She handed him the key for the rental.
He hugged her, his broad shoulders wrapped around her. I was right, his hugs are the best, she thought to herself. She left her arms to the side without hugging back. He thanked her and headed up the stairs to his rental. She waited until he got inside before leaving.
Jungkook had sat up by the time she got back in the car. In her rear view mirror she could see him smiling at her. He moved close behind her, using her seat to pull himself forward. She felt as if he liked being able to intimidate her slightly. Perhaps he is into power plays, she thought to herself. He was so close to her that she could feel him breathing on her neck. It was kind of weird but slightly erotic. She wasn't even sure if he did it on purpose or not. He looked too sweet and innocent to do it purposely.
She pulled into the parking space, opening the trunk once again. He joined her at the back of the car, removing his luggage. He stood directly in front of her with a big smile on his face. His wide eyes open as if he had a million racing thoughts. After several moments he reached out to her hand, holding it within his. She looked down, noticing the tattoos on his hands. She looked up to see him smiling at her still. She laughed and took her hand back, handing him the key.
"Goodnight Jungkook" she said. He gave her another big smile, this time big enough to crinkle his eyes. He went to his rental while she made she he got in safely.
She drove back to the front of the park. She couldn't stop thinking about how flirty the guys had been. They were all so cute but man are they good at making me feel uncomfortable, she thought to herself.
She opened the trunk and didn't bother getting out of the car this time. It was already nearing midnight and she was exhausted. RM helped load their luggage, lightly patting the trunk after he closed it. Seijin sat next to her in the front seat, another hopped into the backseat, he sat in the middle, leaning in between Seijin & Jen.
"I'm J-Hope" he said cheerfully. He had a very thick Asian accent, suiting him perfectly. He shared a similar height to the other guys, although he seemed noticeably thinner. Very fashionable. He had a slightly longer face cut with a strong jawline and high cheekbones, Like RM he had dimples when he smiled. An adorable nose that turned up slightly at the end. She had always known that he was really cute, but his personality really won her over. He was extremely kind and happy. She often wished she could be that person. Being an introvert, she often tried to conserve her energy for situations she really wanted to enjoy. Being outwardly happy all the time exhausted her in most cases. It was rare she found someone didn't drain her mentally, she thought most people to be energy vampires.
Jung Hoseok, stage name J-Hope and sometimes referred to as Hobi. - The final rapper of the group and another member who received much criticism in their debut days. Anti-fans asked him to leave the group on numerous occasions which he eventually considered before deciding not to - the love and trust of his group pulling him back. He was the best dancer and most fashionable of the group. His laugh was contagious and animated - he had no problems with falling over from laughter. Spending too much time in water made him seasick and roller coasters scared him to death, though he did think it was fun after the fact. He is known as the happiest member of the group - often gritting his teeth and hiding any problems he faced. He was considered to be the second-to-the-last favorite member of the group, after RM of course, in their debut days. His fan base grew as they reached unimaginable levels of success. As the third eldest member of the group, he was a part of the hyung line.
Seijin sat quietly as J-Hope talked both to, and at, Jen. He often nodded his head in agreement, listening to him be so happy. She pulled into the parking space for Seijin's rental. She had her hand on the door handle when Seijin said, "I'll get my bags. You stay here." She smiled at him and handed him the key. He returned a smile adding, "thank you" before exiting and grabbing his bags. She waited until he entered the rental before backing up. She pulled into J-Hope's rental, a mere 40 feet away. She exited her car, helping him remove his bags. He had more bags than most of the other guys. She set his bags gently on the gravel.
He smiled at her, he swayed back and fourth slightly as if he was nervous. She handed him the key. He picked up his bags and turned away for a brief moment before turning around to ask, "phone?" he asked in English, making a phone call gesture next to his face.
She laughed, louder than she probably should with how late it was, "You are the second person to ask tonight. Let me see your phone." He handed her the phone and smiled, a low chuckle escaping his lips.
"Second? Who asked first - V?" he asked.
She entered her number into his phone. She handed it back to him, still laughing about it, "Suga."
He looked at her stunned before returning the phone to his pocket. "I can't believe that. He doesn't even respond to us."
Her laugh died down into a smile, "Well he hasn't actually texted yet so...." her voiced trailed off, dropping her smile. She could feel how tired she was now, even with the excitement of meeting BTS she felt like she could fall asleep at any given moment.
He smiled at her again, giving her a thumbs up before entering his rental. She waited until he got inside and she could see the lights pop on.
Seijin & Hope's rentals were in the back in the campground, it took her awhile to get back to the front. Pulling into her parking spot she could see RM and Jimin outside the store. Jimin laying on the ground, resting his head on RM's thigh. RM staring off into the distance, resting his head against the window of the store. They both looked fatigued. She couldn't imagine what they had gone through.
She exited the car, and gestured them to get in.
The last boy she had not been properly introduced to stood up slowly and whined half-playfully and half-seriously, "I'm hunnnnngry."
RM rolled his eyes. "Jimin, you just ate" he said with a sigh.
"No, real food" he whined again. This time almost stomping his foot, his blonde hair bouncing with the motion. Compared to the others, he looked petite, but strong. His lips plump and a generously handsome smile. His had slightly chubby cheeks yet still prominent cheek bones, very doll like. He seemed comfortable in his sexuality and that in itself was attractive to her. He presented himself in a very fun, childlike manner. She could see immediately that he often needed reassurance from the others.
Park Jimin, stage name Jimin. - The second-youngest in the group after Jungkook. Lead vocals and well known for his falsetto - he had the voice of an angel. He was a sensitive guy with a need for attention. He loved being the center of it just as much as he loved showering the other members in it. He loved to compliment and purchase gifts for the other guys, always holding on to or touching the other members. In their debut days, he felt out of place when they would strive for a "bad boy" image. In more recent years he allowed his true personality to shine brighter and was met with complete acceptance from his fans. As one of the most popular members, he loves his fans more than life itself. In their early days, he was one of the most hated members - not by his fans but by fans of rival groups. So much so that he had received multiple threats on his life. He struggled in the beginning with loving himself as he was. In his quest to find perfection he often starved himself to the point of exhaustion. Recent years had treated him much better and he was a happier person because of it. He was one of the sweetest members of the group and his love for army knew no bounds.
RM sighed loudly, tilting his head back, letting his arms fall to the side.
"I have food, not a lot but I can probably get you something?" Jen offered.
"It's really not necessary--" RM said before being cut off by Jimin.
"What kind?!" Jimin asked, practically jumping up and down.
"Umm, chips, fruits" she said thinking, "maybe some spicy ramen?"
Jimin didn't even say anything before getting up, he bounced around happily next to her.
"It's been a really long night for everybody, we don't mean to waste more of your--" RM rebutted, trying to calm Jimin.
"It's really no big deal. I live in the apartment up there" she said, pointing towards the sky above the gift shop.
RM looked up to see there was an apartment above the A frame building. Jimin looked to him expectantly. He smiled, rolled his eyes slightly and said, "Well, let's get it."
They walked around the building and up the set of stairs, dragging their luggage behind them. Jen helped Jimin with his as she noticed his struggle.
She placed her key in the lock and turned the doorknob, forcefully pushing the door open. Immediately the smell of blueberry pancake filled their senses.
"Mmm" Jimin said, smelling the air, "what smells so good?"
She giggled at him, "It's a candle. I love candles but I'm especially fond of fall scented ones."
The apartment was small, but cozy. She loved the shabby chic look and decorated her space to reflect that. Lots of white and ivory with subtle pops of pink. It was calming to her.
Jimin dropped his bags near the door. Walking through the kitchen, he immediately opened the fridge and started pulling things out, naming things as he went. "Strawberries, blueberries." He found the bananas on the counter. She handed him a plate, smiling at how happy he was.
RM sighed loudlly, giving up at this point.
"If you keep walking straight you'll find the living room. You can sit down if you want" Jen offered.
RM thanked her with a smile, and headed to the couch. He removed the pillows from the corner and placed them in his lap, laying his head back and letting his neck hang. It feels so good to sit on something other than a bus seat, he thought to himself. He looked around to survey the room - clearly a girls space. Candles. Blankets. Throw pillows. He found the remote and turned on the TV, scrolling through her apps. He scrolled through, finally deciding on Funimation, he reached across to grab a blanket. Covering himself he could smell the faint scent of perfume. It smelled beautiful and warm, just like she did. Slightly expensive, but not too expensive. He breathed deep and let the scent fill him.
She walked into the hallway leading to the living room, stopping at the console table to empty her pockets. She usually carried so many things with her, always her phone but also lip balm, a small vial of perfume, and a pen. She plugged her phone into it's charger. "I'm going to change my shirt" she yelled, unsure if they would even care. It felt super awkward having them in her apartment but they acted like it wasn't a big deal. They are probably used to meeting strangers, she thought to herself. She closed her bedroom door and took off her shirt, adding it to the laundry basket. She rummaged through her drawer to find something comfortable, but appropriate. She chose a plain white tee that ruched on one side. She typically preferred to get comfortable as soon as she got home - getting out of her jeans as fast as possible. To her, pants were leg prisons and shoes were foot prisons.
She entered her living room. "Comfy?" she asked, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. She admired how cute he looked snuggled in her blanket.
He smiled, "Yah" purposely snuggling a little more.
She giggled, "Jimin found the fruit and he's having a good time in there." She said, reaching for another blanket.
He laughed and shook his head, "I bet he is."
"We can share" he said, throwing a corner of the blanket at her.
Damn he's cute, she thought. She wasn't even sure how she was containing her inner fan-girl. Her heart was screaming but she managed to play it so cool. She thought her heart might burst with how fast it was beating. She covered her legs and snuggled on the couch. She was happy, but so very tired. She could feel her eyes slowly closing against her desire to stay awake.
Jimin finally emerged from the kitchen, smiling and rubbing his tummy. He sighed, eyelids half closed.
"Ready to go?" Jen asked, sitting up on the couch. Jimin nodded. She got up to take Jimin to his home for the night.
"Do you mind if I stay here?" RM asked "Thinking about that ramen now."
"Oh yeah sure. Pans are in the cabinet near the sink. Ramen in the upper cabinet" she said heading out the door, carrying some of the bags for Jimin. He watched through the blinds as she helped Jimin into the car, loading his bags for him. Jimin seems to like her a lot, he thought to himself, I can see why - she is lovely.
RM got up and began looking through the cabinets, finding the extra spicy noodles and boiling the water. He finished the noodles, drained and then mixed them together.
She had gotten halfway to drop Jimin off when she realized she forgot her phone. CRAP, she thought to herself, It's late anyway, I will be okay. Jimin sat in the front seat next to her, leaning his head against the door. He fell asleep on the ride. He looked peaceful, as if the car ride comforted him in ways he had not been comforted in a long time. She pulled into the parking space, letting him sleep a minute longer before waking him up.
RM sat the bowl down, deciding he needed to find the bathroom. He entered her bedroom. Small, but plenty of room with a desk and vanity. Curious, he opened her closet doors. The closet was surprisingly big for how small the apartment was. He looked over her clothing, fashionable, mostly tees and denim. Comfortable shoes - Adidas and converse. Clearly a girl who dresses to be cute and comfortable. He closed the doors. Exactly what he expected based on the little he knew about her.
He went to the bathroom, located next to the closet.
Exiting the bathroom, he had a clear view of her desk across the room. He walked closer and realized that her screensaver was none other than BTS. He moved the mouse to see that her background had a picture of him, specifically from the "Butter" concept photo shoot. He raised an eyebrow and smiled.
On the other end of the wall sat her vanity, slightly messy as if she used it often. It had a large Hollywood glamour style mirror, surrounded by fifteen bright light bulbs. Exiting the bedroom he could hear music. Getting closer to the source, he could hear it was a BTS song. Mic Drop, in particular. He picked up her phone from the table and looked at it, recognizing the number that texted her.
The text message contained only one word. "Hey." He laughed a little, shook his head and said, "Suga" to himself out loud.
He set the phone down, only for it to immediately begin ringing again, this time a phone call. He picked up the phone again to see "Ex" calling. He let it ring, setting it down and listening to "I'm fine" playing. He sang along softly to it.
He picked up his bowl of ramen again about the time she walked in. She shut the door quietly.
"Jimin is safe" she said turning off the porch light. "Poor thing fell asleep on the drive" she mentioned.
RM, slurping his noodles, raised both eyebrows, "You had a call."
Immediately she knew that her ringtone was on. He heard it. Oh god he heard it, she thought to herself.
"It was Ex?" he asked.
"Yeah" she sighed, "my ex husband."
Still eating his noodles, he made a sound between huh and oh?
He gave her a big smile, "And Suga texted you." She blushed, slightly embarrassed. He laughed, louder this time, "I can't even get him to text me."
She picked up the phone, adding Suga as a contact. She returned the call to her ex. He listened to her from the kitchen.
"Yeah what did you want?"
"What does it even matter?"
She sighed.
"We've been through this. I'm done and it's over".
RM heard the anger rising in her voice, and gestured with two fingers for her to give him the phone. She handed it over, giving him a sideways look.
"Yea man, she said no. Its over." He ended the call and smiled - both dimples showing this time.
"What did you do?" she asked, panicking.
"Now he knows you're with a man. He'll leave you alone" he shrugged.
It was silent as they returned to the living room, "Not something you can fix?" he asked out of curiosity.
She laughed. "No, it is not" she said, plopping down on the couch.
He sat down on the other end, one eyebrow up as if he questioned her.
She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. It was always hard for her to hold back her tears when someone asked directly. "After five years of marriage he decided that he would rather have girls on only fans." She looked at him dead in the eyes, "and fuck them." She looked down this time, "more than a few times."
RM was quiet. He had no words that would comfort her in the moment. She seems like a really chill girl, he thought to himself. He moved closer and rubbed her upper back softly, offering what little support he could think of.
She laughed as she wiped away the tears. "Its alright. He's the one that's missing out. I'm fucking great" she announced.
RM laughed. She's kind of cocky - I like it, he thought. Clapping his hands together he said, "It's been a long night and I think we're both tired.."
She blinked at him a few times. She didn't really want to go anywhere at this point. She wanted to fall asleep when Jimin did earlier. "You can stay here if you want?" she offered, half question half offer.
He nodded his head in agreement. She brought him some pillows and a larger blanket for the couch.
"Bathrooms off my room if you need it" she smiled. She went into her room, changing out of her jeans and into ruched shorts. She faced the desk fan towards her bed before getting in, she preferred the cold when she slept.
She fell asleep quickly.
The group chat that they used to communicate with each other was on fire that night :
Suga : Thoughts? She's cute
V : Very
J-Hope : Her car smelled nice
Jimin : Her apartment smelled nice too
Suga : What?! You went to her apartment?
V : I'm thirsty, do you think she'd help? :D
Jin : Too much V
RM : Jimin complained he was hungry
Jimin : I'm full now : )
Jin : She seems really nice. Reminds me of my mom.
Suga : She likes drake
Jungkook : Cool girl
Jin : She likes us
Jungkook : Yeah all of her ringtones are bts.
RM : I can't believe Suga is actually responding to us in group chat.
J-Hope : A pretty girl will do that to him.
V : We should invite her to the show tomorrow night
Suga : YAS!
RM : We will ask Seijin in the morning.
Jimin: *clapping emoji*
RM : *sent a picture of him laying on her couch to the chat*
J-Hope : You stayed with her?!?!
Suga : OMG
He didn't respond further after sending the picture. He laid on the couch, thinking about the day. She was obviously a fan but she treated him like any other person. It was refreshing. He thought about Suga asking for her phone number. It almost pained him to think about and he wasn't sure why. To think of it, all of the guys seemed really smitten by her, he thought to himself before falling asleep.
He fell asleep for a couple of hours before waking up in the night. He walked through her room to the bathroom. He could see her silhouette in the moonlight. She was sleeping on her stomach with one leg bent. He could see her butt poking out the bottom of her shorts. He went to the bathroom and came back. He admired her figure. Her butt was idealistic, the kind that many women would photo shop to copy. Almost too good to be real, he thought. He slowly climbed into bed next to her.
Him laying next to her woke her slightly. She was a very light sleeper, with any kind of noise waking her. She could feel his body next to hers. Wiggling closer she rested her head next to his and offered him half of the blanket. They slept together but in the most innocent way. Similar to how you would sleep with a very good friend - cuddled together without sexual expectations. Neither of them had been cuddled in so long, both enjoying it immensely.
He woke up very early. He stared at her while as she slept. He wished he could lay next to her for awhile longer but there was a van waiting to pick them up. Before he left, he took a selfie with her phone, entering himself as a contact. He noticed Suga had sent her another text message as she didn't respond to the first. He smiled, surprised that Suga tried a second time. It was unlike him to pursue someone more than once.
He found a notebook on her counter and wrote her a note before grabbing his bags to head out the door. He quietly closed the front door when he left, his luggage behind him. Before getting into the car he dug out his journal. He sat between Suga & J-Hope. Once settled and on their way, he wrote yesterday's journal entry :
"Today was a great day. The day was long and the ride even longer. Our vehicle broke down on the way to Chicago. We stopped at a campground and met a really nice girl. Pretty. Smart. I slept on her couch and then moved into the bed with her. It was lovely."
He read his entry over, adding small details he wanted to remember. J-Hope couldn't help but notice his entry, "She's pretty" he admitted.
RM laughed, "Yeah so pretty Suga got her number." Suga laughed, letting out a little snort.
"Had to try" he responded.
J-Hope blushed, covering his face.
RM laughed, "You asked for her number too didn't you? How many of you do you think she can see at once?"
V, who sat behind RM, leaned forward between the seats, "I wanted to ask her but I was too shy. She seems really confident."
Suga laughed at V's misfortune. "You weren't able to form words around her."
RM smiled as he listened to the boys jokingly fight over the girl. They often fawned over pretty girls, but usually not the same one. His mind got lost in thought.
Suga's phone went off. He looked at it, seeing a text from Jen. "I win." he said, showing the text message around as if it were a gold medal.
Both V and J-Hope sighed. RM laughed at their behavior. It was cute and charming, but also somewhat childish. He rolled his eyes listening to them talk about her.
Jen woke several times during the night to find him snuggled with her pillows. She thought he looked like a sweet angel when he slept. He snored softly and looked at peace.
In the morning, he was gone. She yawned and stretched. He didn't wear a cologne - instead he smelled of incense with hints of honey and lemon. His scent lingered on her sheets. It smelled as interesting as he was.
It was her day off, she wasn't in a hurry to do anything today. She made her morning coffee. She looked out the window, mug in hand, to see if the bus was outside. It wasn't. For a minute she thought it was all a dream until she noticed a note on her console table.
"Thank you for everything. -Namjoon"
She smiled at the note and looked at the dishes in the sink from the noodles and in that instant it hit her like a truck. Last night was real. And amazing - but short-lived. She honestly had the best night of her life. It really doesn't go up from here, she thought to herself.
Her doorbell rang. She opened the door to find flowers on the deck. A beautiful bouquet of mixed flowers of all colors. Bringing the flowers in, she set them on her dining table and checked the card.
https://www.wattpad.com/story/278213084-breaking-free-bts-rm-kim-namjoon-fanfiction
#bts#bangtan#rm#btsrm#suga#btssuga#bangtan sonyeondan#kim namjoon#namu#rap monster#rapmon#kpop#idol#korea#south korea#fanfic#bts fanfic#joonie#kdrama#love#angst#smut#desire#fluff#fantasy#romance#drama
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Old Ways, New Age Chapter 4
A major akuma attack hits and Ladybug has to seek out heroes to wield the miraculous if they will have any hope of stopping them.
@marinettemarch
Enjoy!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
Read on Ao3
“As much as I hate to say it… the best place I can hide it is in my own room for now.” Ladybug sighed and looked at her partner with a serious expression on her face. “Do you think you can hold off the akuma long enough for me to take this back?”
Chat Noir was staring off into the distance, where the head of… something… was poking over the buildings. His tail swished behind him, low and lazy. He nodded.
“I’ll do my best to keep it distracted.” His eyes landed on her. “Hurry back though, okay?”
“I promise. Now get going, and I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can.”
With a grin, Chat Noir gave her a quick salute and leapt off the roof. A moment later, he soared back into view, propelled by his extending baton. She watched him go for a few seconds longer before taking out her yoyo and swinging away.
On the way back, her mind was racing. She had been banking on hunting down Namdak to keep the miracle box safe - but now she was going to be distracted by the akuma battle for who knows how long. Would he be bold enough to try again? If she hid it somewhere else in the city, would he be able to find it? Or would she end the battle only for it to have vanished?
The thought of some random civilian - or, even worse, an agent of Hawkmoth - finding the miracle box outside during the coming battle sent shivers down her spine. No, she’d tuck it in her room and hope that the same paranoia that made the Guardians so cautious would keep the box safe for tonight. At least then if it disappeared, she could be sure it hadn’t fallen into Hawkmoth’s hands.
She’d hidden it away the best that she could and was about to leave her room when she got a call on her yoyo. Lowering her hand from its throwing position, she backed into a corner before opening the yoyo to answer the call, ensuring that the view of her room was minimal.
“Something up, Chat?”
“Uhhh yeah I don’t think-” A wall of noise from an explosion nearby on his end drowned him out. “-and we’re gonna need some help on this.”
“Help?” Ladybug blinked down at his video image. “How much help?”
“Um…” The scene behind Chat was a blur thanks to his running and even her partner was a little hard to make it with how the screen was shaking. “How about two? Someone strong—” He cut himself off to duck and the wall behind him burst into rubble. “And maybe some insurance, too. Are there any healing miraculous?”
Ladybug cupped her chin and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do. Can you keep it busy for a little while longer?”
Even in the middle of a fight, he took a second to flash her a grin. “For you? Anything.” A shadow fell over him and his grin evaporated. “Gotta go, LB!”
His screen went dark and she put the yoyo back on her side. Her mind racing, she pulled out the miracle box from its hiding spot and looked over the miraculous at her disposal.
This was the first time they’d had to call on new miraculous heroes since the Miracle Queen fiasco - everyone she’d already brought out was out of the running for now. At least with the miraculous they’d used before.
Someone strong… The physically strongest miraculous was Stompp, the Ox kwami. Hopefully that was what Chat meant. On the bright side, since she had never called on it before, she could give it to practically anyone she wanted.
As for insurance, well… she wasn’t aware of any healing abilities outside her Ladybug Cure, but the ability of the Snake miraculous, Second Chance, was a good runner up. Although that did mean that Luka and probably Adrien, too were out of the running.
Her eyes widened with realization. The two she had in mind might not be the perfect fit for the miraculous, but they would be the best fit she had. After checking her notes for her friends’ schedules, she hid the miracle box away as best she could and hoped that she could bring down this akuma in time.
-----------
Ladybug landed at the front door of a gym. Quips and puns could just barely be heard above the explosions and maniacal laughter of the akuma of the day, none of which was all that far away from where she was standing. Even more worrying was the occasional tremor that shook the city - was it a giant amok, or a tunneling one? Practically everyone with any sense left was long gone.
Which just left those who were too caught up in their own competition to worry about something as trivial as an akuma attack.
Upon entering the building, she peered into the various exercise rooms looking for her duo of potential heroes. Despite being inside, the sounds of battle still reached her, driving her to move faster in locating them. As much as she wanted to keep them separate for identity purposes, she had no idea if Chat would be able to hold on that long.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the door to a basketball court to see the two of them locked in the middle of a game. One which only had a passing resemblance to basketball, judging by Alix’s rollerskates and the obstacles set up on the court.
Alix noticed her first, giving her a double take as she tried to dribble across the court.
“Ladybug?!”
The price for her inattention came immediately when she collided with Kim. Ladybug watched the basketball bounce forlornly past her and hit the wall. Clamping down on the last minute doubts she had about them, she walked over to the pile of athletes as they were trying to get to their feet.
“Woah!” A grin spread across Kim’s face. “Did you come to coach our match, Ladybug? Pipsqueak over here could definitely use some pointers.”
Finally getting her skates under her, Alix shot a glare at him. “You wanna try that again, airhead? Cuz the scoreboard sure as hell doesn’t agree with you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kim snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not my fault you’ve got all those dirty tricks to get ahead.”
“You-!”
“Cut it out and listen to me!” Ladybug had enough of their bickering at school - she wasn’t about to tolerate it now. “There is a big fight going on and we need help. Who’s in?”
“Oo, oo, pick me!” Kim raised his hand and put the other on Alix’s head and shoved her back slightly. “I, uh… Let’s just say this isn’t my first lap around the pool.”
Kim gave an obvious and exaggerated wink to Ladybug, who could only pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
Alix rolled her eyes. “She said she needs help, not someone that she’ll need to babysit. Besides,” Alix added with a knowing grin. “I’ve been hoping to hop into a fight for ages now. Know what I mean, LB?”
Ladybug put her hands together to cover her face, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she felt a little more composed, she looked back at them.
“I’ve got two miraculous here - the fight is going that bad. Are you still interested?”
Alix and Kim looked at each other for a moment before nodding. Ladybug gave them each her usual speech and handed them the miraculous - the Snake for Alix and the Bull for Kim. Both seemed surprised at the specific miraculous they got, but took it in stride.
With two new heroes in tow, Ladybug rushed out of the gym and hoped that she would make it in time.
-----------------
As he examined the locking box trap that had captured his hand, Master Namdak took a moment to respect the chosen of Creation. Fire and boldness were likely pairs when dealing with those who wielded the miraculous, but deviousness and cleverness were a rare pearl.
Sadly for her, mere tricks were not sufficient to guard the miracle box - another reason why it needed to be returned to the order.
Tapping the box twice with his staff, the hinges flew open and the trap dropped to the ground, leaving the miracle box securely in his hand.
He leapt out of the room and stood on the rooftop. Deep in his bones, he knew that he needed to leave for Tibet soon. The journey was long and the return home would be equally as arduous. He stood still, quietly taking in the scenery. His eyes roved the horizon, taking in the sight of a city from two hundred years in the future.
Which was when he saw the villains that had been so helpful in acquiring the miracle box. They were locked in a desperate battle against the heroes of this city. Despite himself, Master Namdak was drawn closer to the fighting. Even setting aside his time spent removed from the world, it had been long decades since he had last seen the miraculous in action. Curiosity could not be ignored.
He watched from a rooftop as a team of four heroes battled against the puppets of the butterfly and peacock, saw the ebb and flow of the battle.
Master Namdak had long years of experience - he could see the clash of personalities apparent on the heroic team. By all rights, a lack of cohesion ought to have been enough to destroy them.
And yet... despite that, Tikki’s chosen held them firm. They followed her instructions without question, no matter how baffling they might seem. Her knowledge of the miraculous strengths was astounding as she used each power of her allies like a familiar tool in her armory. If circumstances were different, perhaps she could have been a Guardian as well. Perhaps even risen to the rank of Master, like himself.
But they fought a losing battle. Even with aid, Master Namdak knew that they were on the backfoot and edging closer and closer to defeat.
He turned to leave.
Long moments passed, but he could not take a step forward.
He looked over his shoulder at the heroes battling against evil, his heart torn between duty and compassion.
#Miraculous Ladybug#Ladybug#le chien kim#max kante#Chat Noir#Marinette March#ml fanfiction#my writing#Old Ways New Age
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anjali: Jinana’s Familiar
Got hold of this meme and decided to just fill it out in a post of my own instead of going for ask prompts or cluttering up the rebagel train...
General Questions
1. What is their name, pronouns, and species?
Anjali - she/her - Sand Lynx (Catclaw Desert variety)
2. Describe their appearance!
Anjali is large even for a sand lynx, over two feet high at the shoulder and weighing well over 60 pounds. Like all of her kind, she has a pale coat with faint lilac-grey spotting that helps her blend into the gypsum sands of the Catclaw Desert. The color shades into a darker lilac-grey around her lower legs and paws, the end of her tufted tail, and her ears. She has long black ear-tufts and dark markings on her face and muzzle. Her nose and paw pads are black, and her eyes are a pale blue with rounded pupils.
3. What is their personality like? How are they around strangers vs. people they know?
Anjali is suspicious of strangers, and will place her own body between them and Jinana, hissing quietly if they get too close for her comfort. (Like a caracal, she will hiss at anything she dislikes the tiniest bit.) With people she knows, she is a shameless beggar for food and attention. With people she adores, she acts like a daft kitten, despite being the size of a large dog, and will throw herself to the ground and roll around at their feet (’social rolling’).
4. What are their magical abilities?
Once per day, Anjali can use an ability that functions as a Jump spell for one round. This triples her already-impressive jumping ability for a single bound that can cross 75+ feet of horizontal distance, or 36 feet vertically. Imagine this creature just... appearing on the roof of a three-story building... terrifying.
5. What’s their goofiest quirk?
Anjali is fully capable of using a doorknob, standing up on her back legs and using her paw pads to get traction. The quirk, however, is that she always closes the door behind her. 😆
6. What snack will always get their attention?
Cheese. She adores any kind of cheese, but the stinkier the better. She won’t (intentionally) knock you over to get the cheese in your hand... but almost.
7. Do they have a pet peeve? (pun intended)
Anjali does not like to have her ear tufts played with... but it’s so hard to resist...
8. What’s their most special skill?
Sand Lynxes are known for their jumping ability, and Anjali is no exception. She can leap up to 12 feet vertically (an ability shared by real-life caracals and lynxes) and catch birds on the wing.
9. How energetic are they?
Like most felines, Anjali spends a lot of time sleeping. But when she is awake, she is a ball of energy and needs some time each day playing, running, and jumping.
10. Do they enjoy attention or are they more of a loner?
Anjali loves attention and will actively demand it if she feels she isn’t getting enough. She will bump with her head, smack with her tail, pat a person with one of her paws or even lightly chomp a limb to get attention.
11. What’s their level of mischief like?
Relatively high. She is endlessly curious and forever poking into things to investigate them. Like all cats, she enjoys knocking things over and getting into high places.
12. What’s their favorite way to let off steam?
She actually loves to play fetch! She also loves to try and catch an airborne toy in mid-air (but it has to be thrown like... really high), and to play tag.
13. What were they like as a baby? Did your OC know them back then?
Originally, Jinana discovered Anjali as a lost, hungry kitten at an oasis in the Catclaw Desert, not terribly far from Nopal. S/he hand-reared the sand lynx, who bonded with hir over time. Anjali was pretty much like any other kitten, except larger!
14. What song would you use to describe them?
"Jump” by Van Halen 🤣🤣🤣
15. 3 emojis that sum them up?
😼🍖😻
16. Most likely to…?
Shove herself into bed between Jinana and anyone else who might be there, where she will then sleep belly-up with her legs in the air.
17. What’s the most unique thing about them/makes them stand out?
Anjali is capable of running small errands at the Market, wearing a set of saddlebags with a pocket for coin and a note from Jinana. The merchants aren’t sure if she can count... but they’re not about try and cheat her! (Don’t send her to pick up meat or cheese though... most of it won’t make it home...)
OC Relationship Questions
18. How did they meet your OC?
Having lost or become separated from her mother and littermates, Anjali was discovered at an oasis in the Catclaw Desert, starving. Jinana coaxed her into eating and drinking, bringing her back to Vesuvia with hir and raising her to adulthood, magically bonding with her in the process.
19. What is their relationship with your OC like?
Anjali adores and is very protective of Jinana. She would go everywhere with hir if allowed to... so long as it isn’t raining. ;P All the same, she can be kind of judgmental (like all cats) and has strong Opinions on things.
20. If your OC lost their memories, do/did they remember their familiar? If no, do they now and how did the reunion go?
In the Apprentice continuity, Jinana did not recall Anjali, nor vice-versa. Because of the way that mage and familiar are bound, bringing Jinana back to life brought Anjali back as well, her spirit arriving in the body of a newborn kitten. (Asra suspected but could not confirm this.) She is three years old and has had litters of her own by the time that Jinana finds her again. In the interim, they regularly dream of each other, but neither of them know why until Jinana gains the knowledge of hir own death and resurrection.
21. How do they feel about other people in your OC’s life?
Anjali likes Asra, but was slightly jealous of him in Jinana’s previous life. She adores Heron. She likes Julian because Jinana likes him, but also enjoys making him nervous. (“I think she wants to eat my face.”) Portia’s delight in meeting a cat so large charms Anjali in turn. Inanna, being one of the few familiars around that is larger than Anjali herself, gets particular respect.
22. What’s your OC’s favorite thing about them?
EAR TUFTS GO FWIP FWIP FWIP (only Jinana is allowed to play with them!)
Also Anjali will sit up on her back legs and ‘dance’ with Jinana when s/he is practicing, it’s adorable.
23. What’s their favorite thing about your OC?
HUMAN NAILS (they give scritches)
24. What’s one thing they do for your OC that no one else can?
Anjali can sense when Jinana is feeling disconnected or having intrusive thoughts, and will come and sit with/on hir or even just flop on hir to squish hir soul back into hir body, so to speak.
25. How often are they with your OC?
More or less constantly, outside of times she is sent on an errand, or stays at home because a) it’s raining or b) Jinana is going somewhere that a 60+ pound cat-thing is probably not welcome.
26. How easy is it for them to get away with things with your OC? Vice versa?
In non-Apprentice timelines, Anjali sees Jinana as a parent figure, and while she might have Opinions, she generally defers to hir and doesn’t act out much.
In the Apprentice timeline, however, having raised two litters in the wild, Anjali sees Jinana as her charge, and won’t let hir get away with things like not eating or resting enough. It’s going to take some time to re-establish a balance in their relationship.
27. Which Disney character-animal sidekick duo is their relationship most like?
...I don’t have enough background in Disney to be able to pick one. Open to suggestions, though!
Creator Questions
28. What was your inspiration for this familiar?
Real-life caracals and lynxes, but bigger and adapted for true desert life. Sort of a Big Floppa of the desert. 😂
29. Why did you choose them for your OC?
I considered a bug familiar, which would have been on-brand, but it’s also very on-brand for Jinana to have rescued this ‘poor kitten’ which grows up to be a big horrible sand lynx that follows hir everywhere.
Heron: “Jinana, that is a sand lynx. It’s going to get almost as big as you are.” (Jinana did not care.)
30. What’s your favorite trait or bit of lore pertaining to them?
Anjali has a strong maternal instinct and will attempt to raise any small animal that comes into the household... including Julian’s wrinkly little puppy. He probably freaks out the first time he sees her carrying the puppy in her mouth (having just rescued the critter from its own curiosity).
31. If you were to meet this familiar irl, how would you react?
By herself? Terrified lmao
In the company of her person? Fascinated and dying to peT THE LORGE KITTY
32. What would your familiar be? Why?
A housecat. Because that’s just how it be. 😸
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 3//
(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)
(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @emikadreams)
The following couple of days passed in a blur as I tried not to count down the hours leading up to Rhys’s return. After a week apart, the ache for my mate to come home was nearly stifling. I didn’t want to compare it to the near-month we had been separated before the war with Hybern; when I had acted as a double agent for my court, for my family, in order to save them. It was agonizing, my daemati abilities and magic being drained by the faebane slowly poisoning me; all while being unable to fully communicate with Rhys through our bond. Last night, our last apart, I had to remind myself that this was nothing like it; we were in the same court and he was due back in a few hours. Just as I was turning in for the night, I found a note on my dresser and nearly knocked it over as I lept for the folded piece of paper with a simple sentence scribbled in his handwriting:
I’ll be home first thing in the morning.
I smiled at his words for far longer than was probably necessary, recalling the notes we used to pass each other in the early days of our friendship; before I realized that we could simply communicate through our bond and shared daemati powers, before I even realized we were mates. My heart swelled at the gesture; imagining him writing the quick note and sending it off with a no-doubt smug grin. I chose not to write back and set it back down on the dresser before enduring a fitful sleep. I was glad the symptoms of my illness were nearly gone and no longer plagued me at night; the strange glimmer at my core remained and flitted about from time to time, but it remained calm now as I laid in bed with eyes trained on the wall of windows across from me. The rising sun was beginning to bathe the sky in morning light; oranges, yellows, and soft pinks blending into the night sky as the sun began its slow ascent. I bit my lip as I glanced down at myself, picking off a stray speck of dust from the red and lacy underthings I wore—a favorite of Rhys’s and one I saved for special occasions.
I sighed deeply, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I stretched my stiff limbs. I didn’t have to open my eyes as I felt him a second later. I smiled as the room was filled with his scent—salt, citrus, and rain. I breathed him in, relief filling every inch of me; noting a very faint, yet familiar, aroma radiating between us. Before I could name it, strong arms enveloped me as I opened my eyes and met with violet.
“Hello Feyre darling,” he purred as he pulled me against him.
I arched my back, allowing his arms to encircle my waist. My hands brushed through his dark locks, making the first contact between us delicate and loving, as he hovered over me. My breathing hitched as I realized his Illyrian leathers were already gone and he pulled me closer.
“You’re here,” I breathed.
His lips met the skin between my neck and shoulder, “I did promise I would be here first thing in the morning.”
“I didn’t realize it would literally be at the crack of dawn,” I teased; one hand moving to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other gripped his shoulder, my hips rolling against him.
His hands moved to admire the undergarments I wore, tugging at them with an achingly slow ease, “What can I say? I couldn’t stay away, Feyre darling.”
My breath hitched again as his lips finally caught mine, and any restraint I exercised before now snapped. I kissed him feverishly, hands dragging down his back as his wings flared out instinctively at my touch. I grinned on his lips, “Extra sensitive, are we?”
He growled in response, pressing my hips down as I tried rolling them again, “To think, I almost forgot what a cruel, beautiful thing you are, mate.”
My grin only widened as he moved from my lips down my neck, and further. Leaning my head back with a soft moan, I briefly thought of where the other two Illyrians might be. If Rhys was here, had they remained at the camps to wrap up any leftover business, or-
“Are you really thinking about other males while I’m doing this?” He drawled, nipping at my collarbone as his hand slid between us.
I gasped at his touch, arching my back against him and realized my mental shields had been shamelessly thrown down the second our lips met. Blushing, I tugged at his hair lightly, his eyes meeting mine again as I breathed, “Maybe if you weren’t taking so long, I wouldn’t let my mind wander.”
He growled lowly and the sheer intensity behind those now darkened violet eyes caused me to shiver against him as any previous thoughts and taunts I had vanished; I pulled him back down for a vigorous kiss.
x
Not too long after, we decided not to leave our room for the rest of the day.
He spent the remainder of the morning cherishing every inch of my body, and I did the same, unable to resist him for more than a few minutes before we launched into another round. I couldn’t help feeling amused at our frenzy; reminding me of when we were newly mated. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered what Rhys told me then, about the inherent need to ensure his mate was impregnated. Maybe that was why the frenzy was renewed now; after a week apart, our mating instincts were trying to pick up where we left off before his absence.
Rhys inhaled my scent deeply as a strong hand flattened on my stomach, his face buried in the crook of my neck as we lay in bed--finally allowing ourselves a break. I traced lazy circles on his chest as he took another breath. “Something’s different,” he commented casually.
“What do you mean?” I asked, tracing the dark whorled patterns of the tattoos on his chest; admiring them and dreaming of how to include them into my next painting.
“I don’t know, but something feels off,” he said a little more seriously, and I heard the concern beginning to brew.
I hesitated. I made sure my mental shields were intact as I contemplated revealing my mysterious illness to him. The first night I was sick, my mental shields had been lowered during my vulnerable moment and he was able to guide me through my panic--no doubt being awakened as abruptly as I had been by my nightmare and the illness that followed. Since then, I battled to make sure they remained whole during my nausea spells in order to prevent him from worrying about me further. He noted the delay in my response and frowned.
“You’ve been sick,” it wasn’t a question.
I sighed, “Just a little,” I quickly added before he could protest, “It wasn’t a big deal. I just had a couple of bad days feeling lousy, but I’m much better now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His frown remained, fingers curling into my waist protectively.
“I didn’t want you to worry. You, Cass, and Az had business to take care of in the war camps. How did that go?” I raised a brow, wondering at the slight curl of his lips at the mention of his brothers.
He reigned himself in and sighed, “There were no female recruits in this year’s Rite, as I suspected.”
I rolled my eyes, “I bet Cassian loved that.”
He snorted, “Oh, he loved it so much that Az and I heard all about it for the remainder of our stay.”
“I don’t blame him. He worked hard to train those females, to make sure they were caught up enough to survive out in the mountains,” I empathized. I personally worked with Cassian to train alongside the female Illyrians; giving them my own advice and even instructing some of them on how to properly hold a blade. Tired of Devlon’s constant excuses as to why the females were so behind in their training, Cassian brought them to our own training pit at the estate. After spending several months training with the females of age, I knew how excited they were at the prospect of participating in the Rite.
“I don’t either,” Rhys amended, tracing a finger around my navel; eyeing his own movement as contemplation settled on his face. “We’re going to put more pressure on Devlon for next year. Apparently the other camp lords ‘overwhelmed’ him in their vote to include the females this year.”
I frowned, “Was there any more news on the other camp lords?”
Rhys sighed deeply, already knowing what I was referring to. Ten years ago the son of the camp lord of the Ironcrest camp, Kallon, began spreading post-war dissent among other war camps; putting all the blame of their fallen comrades on the High Lord of the Night Court’s shoulders. Kallon also placed equal responsibility on Cassian and Azriel’s shoulders, seeing as they were not only Illyrian bastards but also close to Rhys and followed his orders. However, after taking over his father as camp lord of Ironcrest, Kallon was silenced once Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel visited the camp. Rhysand made sure to make his presence in the camp known by having Cassian add it to his rotation of monthly check-ins. Not even a year later, the rumors of his insubordination had quieted. We thought the issue was over until Azriel’s recent reports picked up on more of Kallon’s old talks resurfacing among the war camps. During this year's Blood Rite, the trio made it a priority to scavenge any details during their stay in Bloodhaven under the guise of attending and observing the Rite and all its ceremonies and celebrations for their new Illyrian warriors.
“I had Azriel scout the surrounding war camps, and he only picked up on a few of the details we already knew of. It seems they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut with their High Lord present,” He said, moving to press his nose against the hollow of my neck and inhaled my scent once again.
I giggled, tangling my fingers in his hair, “Stop trying to deflect, I want to know more about what happened.”
“So do I,” he breathed deeply, spreading his fingers out on my stomach again as if he were still trying to inspect it.
I furrowed my brow, “Why do you keep touching my stomach and smelling me?”
“Now who’s deflecting?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he said, raising his head to look at me. “You were sick while I was gone, and lied to me about it. Now I’m back and your scent is off, I’m trying to figure out why.”
“I didn’t lie,” I muttered, avoiding his consuming gaze for a minute before eventually meeting his eyes; nothing but sheer worry lined them and I sighed, “I was only sick for a few days. It started the night I woke up from that nightmare and puked my guts up. The next day I was sick to my stomach for a few hours, and it was on-and-off for a few days after. I’ve been really tired ever since, but the puking stopped two days ago.”
He frowned, “What could have possibly made you sick?”
I shrugged, “You know how many children I’m around during my painting lessons at the studio. Odds are one of them had something I caught. But I’m fine now, really,” I promised.
His shoulders relaxed a bit, but his hand remained on my stomach, “That doesn’t explain why your scent would be different.”
“Are you saying I smell bad?” I pretended to be hurt.
“Well…” he grinned mischievously as I rolled my eyes and tried turning away from him, but his strong arms kept me in place gently. “Maybe it has to do with our mating bond. A sick female would alarm her mate via her scent.”
“Well there you go. Now that I’m getting better, my regular old scent will come back,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.
He chuckled, his nose returning to the soft hollow at the base of my neck “Maybe you’re pregnant.”
I rolled my eyes; he liked to make that joke every time I so much as yawned or expressed any mild manner of fatigue. “I’m not pregnant,” I reluctantly admitted, “I’m due for my cycle in a couple of weeks, if anything that’s probably why I’m still so drained.”
“Should I send for Madja?” He asked, half serious.
I shook my head, “We don’t need to bother her every time my cycle returns, Rhys.”
“You say that every time, and every time she ends up prescribing pain relieving tonics and a slew of herbal teas,” he reasoned, his finger tracing lazy circles around my navel once again.
I smiled, “Which is why I stocked up last time she was here, so don’t call her.”
He sighed reluctantly, but I felt his smile on my skin as he pressed a kiss to the spot, “Fine, but I reserve my right to take care of you.”
I nodded and placed a hand on his chin, tilting his head up in a gesture which he immediately responded to by joining our lips in another deep kiss. “I guess I can deal with that,” I allowed.
He chuckled darkly as he moved from my lips and down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses. I sighed deeply, wanting to give in to another round with him, but I needed to know more about the war camps.
“Did Cassian and Azriel stay behind this morning?” I asked him.
I blinked in alarm at his feral growl as he heard their names, his hands holding me a little more protectively, which seemed to shock him as well. He cleared his throat, “Yes, but they’ll return this afternoon,” he said quietly.
“Rhys,” I began, but he shook his head in apology.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what that was,” he said, true remorse behind his words.
“You haven’t acted this way since we were newly mated,” I said with a frown; now it was my turn to be concerned.
He nodded in agreement, “I know. I think after our time apart, some of my primitive instincts have returned,” he admitted sheepishly.
I smiled in understanding, “I guess this means you’re not allowed to be apart from me for this long ever again.”
“I don’t want to be overbearing,” he divulged, and I knew the thought troubled him.
I shook my head, “You’re not. I didn’t enjoy our time apart anymore than you did,” I reassured, running my hands down his arms before adding “And when you came back...well, you saw how eager I was.”
His feline smile sent my heart fluttering wildly, and I felt that subtle glimmer return at my core for a few seconds. Rhys must have felt it too, because his hand returned to its place on my stomach, “Ever since I felt that tremor between us, my instincts have been heightened. It took everything in my power not to winnow back home to you that night,” he explained.
“It’s probably because I was sick,” I reasoned. “If your innate fae instincts tell you your mate is sick and you can’t tend to them, of course those possessive feelings return.”
He didn’t seem to be that satisfied with my explanation, still ashamed of his behavior, but he nodded. His eyes glanced down at his hand, that earlier scrutiny lining his eyes again. Before I could press him about it, he leaned in to kiss me and sighed deeply.
“Still, I promise I’ll do my best to repress them. Will you bear with me in the meantime?” He asked solemnly.
I nodded, giving him another reassuring smile. “As long as you bear with mine,” I said quietly, shifting my weight in his arms so I could hover over him.
That mischievous grin returned to his handsome face as I straddled him, but faltered when my stomach growled. “Maybe we should have some breakfast first,” he suggested, hands gripping my waist lightly to nudge us apart.
I didn’t budge, instead nipping at a particularly tender spot on his neck that I frequently favored. “Later,” I breathed, a hand dragging down his chest lightly.
He agreed with a groan and leaned his head back as he yielded to my touch.
#feysand#rhys x feyre#feyre x rhysand#feyre cursebreaker#feyre archeron#feyre darling#high lady feyre#rhysand#high lady of the night court#high lord of the night court#high lord rhysand#illyrian#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acotar fanfiction#sjm fandom#feysand babies#velaris#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#a court of nightmares#a court of frost and starlight#court of dreams#a court of silver flames
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
There’s a definite chance I might not be writing this BUT
I had a detroit become human idea for a Mob Psycho fic, it’s pretty loose considering I had the idea while sitting in the back of a car and standing under the shower head.
There’s probably a chance I would be writing it but it’s kinda leaning to a “Nah, probably not”.
With that being said, I kinda don’t want to trash the idea as a whole without it meeting the light of day, so I’m gonna spill my ideas here so I can look back and think; “Wow. That’s shit.”
To add, this whole thing will sound more like babbling than an actual summary, so excuse me lmao.
Tsubomi doesn’t have any friends. But coming from a wealthy family, her parents decides to buy her a friend. Cue Shigeo/Mob.
I had a funny model name for all the child androids ‘ESP(insert number, for Shigeo it’s 100)’ despite this being a no powers AU. Then I realized it probably wouldn’t fit because I am low key planning for all the espers to be androids and realized ‘Wow, ha ha, that’s a lot of androids’ so now SOME of the espers are androids.
Okay so fast forward and Tsubomi’s parents are thinking, “We should replace Shigeo, he’s kinda old fashioned now.”
“Mom we only had him for 4 years.”
“Exactly.”
But Tsubomi’s really attached to Mob because he’s her best friend, and doesn’t tell him he might be replaced until he finds out himself. He goes bat shit crazy and tries to kill himself and Tsubomi. Cue Serizawa, a cop android.
Serizawa calms my boy down and Shigeo’s like, “You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m so--” bang. Tsubomi low key gets traumatized, Shigeo is bleeding blue on the floor.
We shift to the next scene where Shigeo wakes up on like a bed except it’s actually a table. Cue Reigen, he works at Cyberlife as a child therapist/repair worker. Actually, my man was suppose to be just a repair worker but he got promoted to child therapist for calming down a raging Teru.
“Kid, you remember anything?”
“I- Sorta? Where am I, am I gonna be killed?”
Reigen’s like sweating because he isn’t sure himself, Shigeo’s the first kid who tried to commit murder. But as they talked, Reigen’s kinda surprised to realize that Shigeo’s actually a really really sweet kid.
Shigeo asks how Tsubomi is doing and if she hates him. Reigen tells him she’s fine and she misses him. Which is the truth, but he doesn’t mention that Tsubomi did end up getting a replacement in fear of ticking Shigeo off. Cue Ritsu, the replacement android best friend.
There’s a sort of cell holding all the ‘defect’ child androids, like a little playroom but also an actual cell, and inside there’s: Gou, Rei, Takeshi, Daichi, Kaito and Teru.
Cue Teru, who is the only one who has a similar case to Shigeo; he punched a kid in the nose and sent him to the hospital, which made his mom very very pissed and sent him for repairs. Because of this, he’s enraged further and the staff can’t send him back unless his attitude changes to the “ideal son”.
Teru thinks being an android is a gift, he can’t die and he’s pretty much flawlessly shaped. When he meets Shigeo, he asks why he looks so plain, and it’s revealed it’s because Tsubomi didn’t want anything flashy.
And mostly because Shigeo’s an older model.
Each kid (except for Teru) had an actual defect to their system. Gou has somehow obtained a built in lighter function, which isn’t suppose to be there. Rei has the reconstruct and construct feature for unknown reasons. Takeshi is basically a walking magnet, except he doesn’t really know when it’s turned on or off (when it’s turned on, it’s strong enough to accidentally pull all the others towards him and it gets pretty annoying). Daichi and Kaito’s memory cloud keeps syncing with one another, which disrupts them from being able to remember the right things correctly (i.e Daichi gets Kaito’s memories and believes they are his own and vice versa).
The only reason they’re still stuck here is because they come from middle class families (except for Teru), so they’re way behind on the waiting list to get repaired.
Shigeo, on the other hand, came from a rich family, so he’d be out in no time. This makes Teru very mad, he states it isn’t fair that Shigeo gets to be let out sooner than them even though he just got here.
He tries to attack, but unfortunately for him, they’ve installed a software that prevents Teru from being able to kick and punch. Like a parental lock sorta? The same has been done to Shigeo.
Shigeo only makes Teru even more mad when he says he wishes he was human. If he wasn’t human, none of this would’ve happened, “Teru, if you were human, you wouldn’t be right here y’know? Your mom wouldn’t need to send a real human boy for repairs.”
And Teru is pissed because he knows Shigeo’s right.
But being the cunning bitch he is, he smiles and pretends to accept Shigeo’s opinion, and he asks for a hug. Shigeo happily agrees and let’s Teru wrap an arm around him.
Then Teru squeezes.
“Teru, I can’t, you’re crushing- I can’t--”
“Oh, I know. If I break you enough, you’ll have to stay here with us even longer.”
Shigeo tries to retaliate, but due to the software, he’s unable to kick himself free. The rest tries to intervene, but Teru threatens them to stay back or he’ll squeeze harder.
“Can a human do this? Shigeo? Can they?”
Shigeo manages to break through the system and finally breaks free, he’s back in his aggressive mode and actually starts attacking.
He takes it too far when he rips Teru heart out.
Everyone is screaming at this point and Reigen’s rushing towards the cell like mad. Serizawa is there too, because he wanted to visit Shigeo to see how he’s doing.
“Why are you running?”
“Something bad is happening, I need to be there- Woah there buddy!” Serizawa picks Reigen up and surprises him. Then the android fucking bolts.
When Reigen finally reaches the cell and enters, he finds Shigeo on the ground, bleeding out once again, and Teru staring motionlessly at Shigeo.
“He...gave me his heart.”
Shigeo is sent to be repaired again and this time, he’s kept in a separate cell, because no one knows how he managed to break through their system. It’s almost impossible for a child -and not to mention an OLD- model to be able to do that.
While Reigen’s thinking in his office, cue Mitsuura, who says it’d be a shame for all those child models to lose their cool abilities. He jokes about just creating a child model meant to possess those abilities, like a tiny cop or something.
Cue Suzuki, no no, the other Suzuki. Mommy Suzuki. Except she’s a single lady who surrounds herself with Touichirou, the first ever android model made. That’s right, she’s head of Cyberlife.
She comes in, because she can’t sit still, and says, “Not a bad idea, man.”
Mitsuura has a fit and thanks the woman.
“So, about that old model that broke my parental control lock?” She turns to Reigen and he huffs, shrugging.
“I really don’t know, ma’am.”
She hums, definitely interested. Unlike the OG DBH, in this AU, they’re more lenient in the deviancy of androids because Suzuki believes they can have rights too. Except they don’t need to get paid, unless they want to? Honestly my idea for that aspect is low key fuzzy.
So anyways, Suzuki remembers Mitsuura’s idea and basically starts sketching out the draft. Cue Shou, who doesn’t exist yet but he’s in the making.
“Can you take the extra components of those child androids and keep them somewhere for later use? I’ll be needing them.”
“Ma’am, those androids are at the back of the waiting list, we can’t just--”
“Just do it.”
Cue Roshuuto, who seriously believes they should just kill Shigeo. “He’s too dangerous” blah blah blah SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Anyways, Reigen doesn’t want to do that because a) android or not, that’s a kid and b) You can’t make that decision and neither can I. Only Suzuki can.
Roshuuto sorta frowns, because everyone knows Suzuki plays favorites; and that favorite is Reigen. He’s the reason why Touichi now has a bit of sentience, before that android was pretty ruthless.
So if Reigen personally doesn’t want to get rid of Shigeo, then Suzuki would say the same too.
Meanwhile, Teru has been showing signs of positive improvement in attitude, there’s a speculation it might’ve been because Teru now has Shigeo’s heart, but that’s just dumb. That kid believes he just killed another android and he’s not sure how he feels about it, so he decides the least thing he could do was to be a better android.
Since Shigeo doesn’t share the same cell as them and nobody told them Shigeo survived, everyone in the playroom thinks Shigeo is dead.
Teru gets sent back after that, and the rest of the kids got their needed repairs.
Meanwhile, Shigeo and Reigen has daily consultation sessions, where they try to find the source of Shigeo’s issues. It takes about a month and Reigen hands Shigeo his cellphone number, saying if Shigeo ever needed him, Reigen would be there.
Shigeo gets sent back to the Takane’s family, because if he doesn’t, Tsubomi will throw a fit. She doesn’t do it often, but when she does, it’s ugly. It’s not like she’s spoiled, but when she strongly and firmly wants something, she’s determined enough to get it.
Originally, Ritsu was meant to be a direct replacement of Shigeo. He even had the bowl cut and everything, but Tsubomi’s intelligent and manages to figure out Ritsu’s a fake. She doesn’t get mad at him though, he doesn’t deserve it, instead she just befriends him too. Ritsu becomes a whole new person he wants to be, even mussed up his hair to look different.
So Shigeo meets Ritsu for the first time, and he’s sorta confused and upset, but Tsubomi got attached to Ritsu as well and refuses to leave him. Ritsu says he’s glad to finally meet Shigeo, because he has heard so much about him, and Shigeo decides he could like Ritsu.
I kinda stop making ideas from here, but I had a rough idea what happens next. Teru and Shigeo do meet again at some point, and Ritsu does meet Shou at some point too.
There will be background Serirei, and Shigeo does eventually grow a crush on Tsubomi and confession and oh no it went wrong. I think that’s when Shou makes his first appearance?
Because they think a child can calm another child down. It doesn’t work.
Nobody realizes Reigen’s probably the only thing that can help until the very very last minute.
So anyways, that’s the end of it. I don’t know what to do with this idea because now that I’ve spilled them all on the table, I kinda feel like writing it now. Though I already have two other projects planned, one being Nap’s birthday gift fic and another being a secret project that features Ritshou and amnesia, so it might be delayed to maybe June :(
#mob psycho 100#mp100#detroit become human#alternate universe#kageyama shigeo#reigen arataka#serizawa katsuya#hanazawa teruki#takane tsubomi#kageyama ritsu#suzuki shou#fanfic ideas
35 notes
·
View notes
Photo
BASIC INFORMATION
FULL NAME: samuel william winchester.
PRONUNCIATION: pronounced how it’s spelled.
MEANING: so from the hebrew name שְׁמוּאֵל, it means god has heard, or name of god. it’s a little ironic considering sam is lucifer, god’s fallen son’s, true vessel.
REASONING: sam was named after his maternal grandfather, samuel campbell.
NICKNAME(S): sam, sammy, little winchester, moose, 738273 other height related nicknames.
PREFERRED NAME(S): sam.
BIRTH DATE: may 2, 1983.
AGE: honestly he’s not sure. he’s died 3-4 times, been the vessel for demons and archangels which probably stalled his physical aging too. i say he’s probably biologically somewhere around 35, even though he’s technically 47ish.
ZODIAC: taurus.
GENDER: cismale.
PRONOUNS: he/him.
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteroromantic.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual. ( he can appreciate that men are attractive, has probably even slept with a couple, but has no desire to be in romantic, serious, relationships with men. )
NATIONALITY: american.
ETHNICITY: wonderbread white.
CURRENT LOCATION: san francisco, ca.
LIVING CONDITIONS: a crappy two bedroom apartment he rents by the month. it’s small, not in a great neighborhood, but it does the trick.
TITLE(S): n/a.
BACKGROUND
BIRTH PLACE: lawrence, kansas.
HOMETOWN: technically lawrence kansas, but they moved around frequently.
SOCIAL CLASS: blue collar.
EDUCATION LEVEL: undergraduate degree from stanford.
FATHER: john winchester.
MOTHER: mary winchester ( neé campbell ).
SIBLING(S): dean winchester, adam milligan ( half ).
BIRTH ORDER: dean, sam, adam.
CHILDREN: jack kline ( adopted / unofficially )
PET(S): n/a.
OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: bobby singer, pseudo uncle. castiel, pseudo brother / brother-in-law.
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: natasha herrera, wife. ( separated )
PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: jessica moore, amelia richardson, meg, sarah blake, ruby, a few one night stands, amy pond ( first kiss ), etc.
ARRESTS?: a few, yes.
PRISON TIME?: minimal, seen in folsom prison blues.
OCCUPATION & INCOME
PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: credit card scams, illegal activity.
SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: n/a.
TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: hunting, but it pays for shit.
APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: unknown.
CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: this is never the job he wanted. so no, definitely not.
PAST JOB(S): student.
SPENDING HABITS: extremely frugal, only on necessities.
MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: john winchester’s journal.
SKILLS & ABILITIES
PHYSICAL STRENGTH: peak physical condition, human, in-shape.
OFFENSE: extremely skilled with weapons and hand to hand.
DEFENSE: extremely skilled with lethal and non-lethal defensive moves.
SPEED: faster than average.
INTELLIGENCE: educated and above average.
ACCURACY: above average.
AGILITY: above average.
STAMINA: above average.
TEAMWORK: below average. he doesn’t work well with people he doesn’t know or trust. it takes time to develop a bond / ease of working with others.
TALENTS: computer skills, digesting information, critical thinking skills.
SHORTCOMINGS: stubborn, naive, reckless, deep psychological trauma, suicidal ideation, a nice grabbag of issues.
LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: latin, english, probably a bunch of other old, dead, languages that might come in handy. he probably also took spanish in school.
DRIVE?: yes.
JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes.
CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes.
RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes.
SWIM?: yes.
PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: no.
PLAY CHESS?: yes.
BRAID HAIR?: no.
TIE A TIE?: yes.
PICK A LOCK?: yes.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS
FACE CLAIM: jared padalecki.
EYE COLOR: hazel.
HAIR COLOR: brown.
HAIR TYPE/STYLE: long and flowing.
GLASSES/CONTACTS?: n/a.
DOMINANT HAND: right.
HEIGHT: 6′4
WEIGHT: 220 ish lbs.
BUILD: slender but muscular.
EXERCISE HABITS: rigorous. he jogs in the mornings, does sit ups / pull ups at night, and lifts weights during the day in between cases. he stays in shape.
SKIN TONE: tanned.
TATTOOS: anti-possession tattoo over his heart. it was carved out in 2026 but the scar has been tattooed over, replacing the original.
PEIRCINGS: none.
MARKS/SCARS: he’s died and come back so many times, it’s hard to say what’s still there and what’s gone. he does still have the bullet wound from where he shot chuck though. it never healed.
NOTABLE FEATURES: nose, hair.
USUAL EXPRESSION: smirk of disbelief, concern.
CLOTHING STYLE: lumberjack lesbian.
JEWELRY: he wears a chain with his wedding ring around his neck, the one he never got to put on for real.
ALLERGIES: none.
BODY TEMPERATURE: normal.
DIET: not great. hence the need to work out.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: general fatigue from a rigorously active lifestyle.
PSYCHOLOGY
JUNG TYPE: INFJ
JUNG SUBTYPE: Introvert(47%) iNtuitive (34%) Feeling(31%) Judging(38%)
You have moderate preference of Introversion over Extraversion (47%)
You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (34%)
You have moderate preference of Feeling over Thinking (31%)
You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (38%)
ENNEAGRAM TYPE: the reformer or the challenger.
MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good.
TEMPERAMENT: melancholic.
ELEMENT: taurus are usually earth elements, but i think air suits sam better.
PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: logical-mathematical, probably.
APPROXIMATE IQ: unknown. we know he scored a 174 on the LSAT, which is incredible, but that doesn’t always translate over to IQ. i would say he’s got a pretty high IQ even if he lacks a few common sense points.
MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: undiagnosed depression, anxiety, PTSD, imposter syndrome, and survivor’s guilt — and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. don’t ask me to psychoanalyze the winchesters, it’ll break us all.
SOCIABILITY: he doesn’t seek it out but he can keep up with the joneses.
EMOTIONAL STABILITY: not good. he has exhibited severe signs of codependency, suicidal ideation, lack of regard for his own life, and believe that he’s cursed. the boy is a mess.
OBSESSION(S): vengeance after significant loss, saving people ( even if it’s from themselves ), trying to make up for all of the blood on his hands.
PHOBIA(S): clowns. not a fan.
ADDICTION(S): demon blood ( previously )
DRUG USE: no.
ALCOHOL USE: recreationally.
PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: can be, yes.
MANNERISMS
SPEECH STYLE: casual.
ACCENT: american. nothing specific.
QUIRKS: chewing on pen caps, tapping to songs on the radio against the steering wheel with his fingers.
HOBBIES: reading, researching, pool, morning crosswords.
HABITS: stress pacing, irritability under extreme pressure.
NERVOUS TICKS: jaw clench, nostrils flaring, hands curled into fists.
DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: vengeance, restoring order / protecting people, survival.
FEARS: losing the people he loves, hurting innocents, isolation.
POSITIVE TRAITS: dependable, loyal, protective, determined, strong, honest, vulnerable.
NEGATIVE TRAITS: impulsive, reckless, guilt-stricken, naive, obtuse, too trusting.
SENSE OF HUMOR: dry, sarcastic.
DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: no.
CATCHPHRASE(S): damnit, dean. jerk / bitch.
FAVORITES
ACTIVITY: long drives.
ANIMAL: hedgehogs.
BEVERAGE: monster energy drinks.
BOOK: probably the classics, or something by neil gaiman.
CELEBRITY: he doesn’t have one.
COLOR: blue.
DESIGNER: doesn’t have one.
FOOD: philly cheesesteak. maybe mashed potatoes, if not the cheesesteak.
FLOWER: sunflowers.
GEM: none.
HOLIDAY: none.
MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: car.
MOVIE: mallrats.
MUSICAL ARTIST: none. he’ll just listen to whatever they have in the car, or is on the radio. before i think he was probably into top 40, maybe even classic rock as much as he complained about it.
QUOTE/SAYING: none.
SCENERY: autumn leaves falling from trees.
SCENT: linen.
SPORT: none. he doesn’t care.
SPORTS TEAM: see above.
TELEVISION SHOW: none. he probably only watches soap operas every now and then again. he doesn’t watch anything he would have to invest time and energy in. maybe pawnstars, or mythbusters.
WEATHER: drizzle.
VACATION DESTINATION: somewhere warm, tropic, and free of monsters.
ATTITUDES
GREATEST DREAM: to have a normal life. he knows he’ll never get it, has come to terms with the fact that he was never going to be normal.
GREATEST FEAR: ending up alone, watching everyone he loves die.
MOST AT EASE WHEN: around the people he loves.
LEAST AT EASE WHEN: on a hunt that’s starting to go awry.
WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: turning into a monster — the very thing he’s dedicated his life to hunting, or becoming evil. being forced into killing his own brother, or someone he loves like family, would also make the list.
BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: in a really soft way, i want to say it’s becoming a pseudo dad to jack. it might not have been what he saw for himself, or how he imagined being a dad, but he loves the kid. if not that, maybe stopping the apocalypse. not that it lasted for very long.
BIGGEST REGRET: not telling jessica the truth. he will always believe he got her killed. that guilt will set with him until the day he dies.
MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: too many to count.
BIGGEST SECRET: he remembers a lot of what the demon did when it possessed him in 2026. he fought with everything he had, but every time he broke through they pushed him back down.
TOP PRIORITIES: figuring out what comes next, i suppose.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Memories Past
Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe
Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au
Pairing: Kris x Reader
Summary: The last thing Kris wanted was to move on. He was perfectly content wallowing in his misery while pretending everything was okay. But when you come walking into his shop with a broken down car, he realizes the thing he’d been avoiding the most just might be the cure he always needed. He just couldn’t believe that it’d been you all along. Kris had been your best friend when you were kids before he’d moved away without a word of goodbye. Now nearly fifteen years later, you run into him again by pure coincidence. The memories come rushing back to you, stirring something inside. A childhood crush shouldn’t upend your picture perfect life, but sometimes, destiny has other things in mind…
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I Final
**
This was the ultimate adrenaline rush.
Running through the woods with the stars above was definitely a thrill for any average werewolf. That was the time they were one with the forest, truly at home. It was only natural for that to be where a wolf sought solace.
But this. This right here was its own kind of high. With the rumble of the engine vibrating the whole car, Kris felt in complete control. Pushing his foot down on the gas pedal, he revved his motor threateningly, letting his opponent know who the winner would be at the end of this mile.
The flag girl stood safely off to the side, the white polyester cloth held up high for both drivers to see. At the race handler’s signal, she threw the flag in the air and they took off.
Kris nearly cursed to see his opponent had half a car length’s jump on him. Shifting gears, he pushed the pedal down even farther, the engine roaring and straining in protest. But Kris knew his car inside and out. He knew what it could take, having torn the engine apart before rebuilding it to the perfection it was today. And his baby never let him down as he watched the nose of his car inch up to be head to head with his opponent.
Flipping up a hidden switch, Kris pressed that fun little red button, giving him just the boost he needed. The car shot forward thanks to that punch of NOS, propelling him past the other driver and crossing the makeshift finish line.
Victory was his. Little yelps and laughs of celebration escaped his lips as he grinned from ear to ear. As he circled around back to the main area, he parked his car along the rows of other souped-up vehicles. Getting out of the car, he rounded to the front and leaned back against the hood to wait for his payment.
Jimmy, a short bald man and Kris’ fellow Chinese man, came up to him with too much energy. Kris held out his hand for Jimmy to take, pulling him into that classic brother half-hug.
“What’s up, man?” Kris smirked, knowing exactly why Jimmy had come over to him.
“I gotta say, you can race like no one else I’ve ever seen before,” Jimmy praised.
Kris laughed. Little did any of these people know that what made him so good was his werewolf reflexes. His timing was better as well as his ability to process a situation and make a quick decision. Very handy when the race usually only lasts ten seconds or so.
“Just lucky, I guess,” he shrugged.
Jimmy scoffed. “Yeah, right.” He held up a thick roll of cash. “Your take in the winnings, Racer King.”
“Thank you,” Kris grinned, pocketing the money.
“Still not going to count it?” Jimmy sighed.
“Told you,” Kris said as he headed back for the driver’s door, “I don’t do it for the money. It’s just a nice bonus.”
“I’m going to start taking a bigger cut, then,” Jimmy warned.
Kris shook his head. “No, you won’t.”
Even seated inside the car, Kris heard Jimmy mumble playfully, “Punk.”
Taking off down the road, the smile on Kris’ face began to fade.
Illegal street racing wasn’t exactly the safest hobby or activity to partake in, no matter how good and isolated the location was. Years ago, he’d dabbled into it. Until Jiyoon scolded him and made him quit.
Now, almost as soon as he’d settled back down in this town, he’d scoured all over the place to track down the races.
Was he being slightly self-destructive? Not completely. He was safe in how he raced, careful until the finish line.
Was he just running away without going anywhere? Plausible.
The drum-heavy music that blared from his phone mercifully pulled him out of his thoughts. Pressing the phone button on his dash, he answered the call through the Bluetooth set up.
“Yes, Tao?”
“Kris-ge,” the younger wolf whined. “Are you almost home? Sehun and Chanyeol are threatening to leave without you.”
Kris shook his head, exasperated. Twelve was just too many members for a pack. “If they do, they’re on bathroom duty for two weeks.”
Tao repeated Kris’ threat to the others which lead to several unintelligible cries of protest in the background.
“I’m almost there,” Kris groaned. “Hold on for five more minutes. Think you guys can sit still long enough?”
“Sure,” Tao replied. “I can, at least.” There was a pause and Kris almost hung up the call when Tao added, “Hey, Kris? Where you have been going lately? Between you and Junmyeon, I’m getting worried.”
“I’ve just been out running a few errands,” Kris lied, if a little guiltily. He knew if he told the others that he’d been out racing, they’d want to come along to watch. Considering the fact that drag racing in the streets was highly illegal, there was always the chance of the cops coming out and breaking it up and topping it off with a few arrests. Kris didn’t mind if he spent the night in jail, but if the others got locked up with him, Junmyeon would have a fit. Better to keep his brothers out of it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’m pulling up into the driveway now.”
“Okay.” Tao hung up without saying goodbye.
Pulling up around back, Kris turned off the engine and sat in his car. Without any prompting the boys ran out the door and huddled around the car’s left side. It was hard, but he resisted rolling his eyes as he got out of the car.
“Let’s go.” He tried his best to not sound as irritated and annoyed as he felt, but considering the questionable glance that Chanyeol gave him, he must have failed. At least tonight, Yixing and Minseok were going with them. That meant they’d be getting back earlier from the run since they had class in the morning and would be more adamant about getting some sleep.
They all headed for the forest, stripping themselves of their clothes to be picked up on the way back.
**
“Are you serious?” Ji Yeon gasped.
By pure luck, after Huan had dropped you off fairly early for class, Ji Yeon had found you just sitting at one of the stone tables in the courtyard as you waited for it to be an appropriate time to head to class. The two of you were quick to exchange numbers and then you told her about your ordeal on the way home the previous night.
“I knew yesterday was just going way too well for me,” you laughed, shaking your head.
“Where did you take your car?” Ji Yeon asked.
You frowned as you thought to remember. “Um, it was called Lang Auto Shop?”
Ji Yeon’s eyes lit up. “Really? I know the guy that owns that place! You, ma’am, are in very good hands. He’s a magician when it comes to cars. And, he won’t overcharge you. That is the real magic.”
You couldn’t help but giggle. The picture forming in your head was of a kind old man with a too-long beard that felt like everyone’s grandfather.
All too soon, it was time for both of you to get to class. Luck seemed to be on your side as your lecture halls were right next to each other, giving you a little more time to talk before you had to separate. Unfortunately, your schedules didn’t match up for the rest of the day, but Ji Yeon promised to text you to set a time for lunch tomorrow.
The rest of your school day was spent with your mind pacing back and forth. You wanted to focus on the lectures and PowerPoints that occupied your class time, but you were worried about your car. Two different people had sworn up and down that the owner of the body shop was a fair mechanic, but there was only so much they could do if your engine needed a part that cost more than a grand. The move had put a dent into your savings as well as Huan’s and the last thing you needed was a hefty mechanical bill.
Finally, the time for Huan to come pick you up from the university and take you to the shop had come. You had to miss out on your last class of the day to make it before the shop closed, but you figured one missed session early in the semester wouldn’t hurt you.
Hopping into the passenger’s seat of his well washed black Mercedes, you leaned over the middle console and gave your fiancé an appreciative kiss before greeting him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he purred back, stealing another kiss. “How was your day?”
You shrugged. “Fine. It’d be better if I wasn’t panicking over my car, but, you know, life.”
Huan just laughed at you. “Yeah, life does that.” As you put your seat belt on, he turned to the GPS, “Okay, what was the name of the shop?”
“Lang Auto Shop.”
Just like you, Huan seemed to find the name strange, but interesting.
It only took about fifteen or twenty minutes to get to the shop from the school. Huan parked right outside the garage doors and both of you got out to find an employee.
“Can I help you?” One of the mechanics approached you, wiping his hands on an already dirty rag. The patch on his coveralls said “Brian”. He certainly looked like a Brian with his blonde hair and cheerful grin.
“Yeah, my fiancé’s car broke down last night and she had it towed here,” Huan explained. “She left the spare keys with a note about what happened and so we were just seeing if there was any update on that or if you were able to even get to it.”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Silver four-door, right?”
“That’s the one.”
“It was actually a simple fix,” Brian said to your relief. “Two of the wires under the hood had been rubbing together and the heat had melted the rubber coating on the outside and shorted the fuse box. We were able to replace the box and wrapped up the expose parts of the wire. I think it ended up being about a hundred dollars or so. We’ve got the invoice in the office.”
Brian motioned for you to follow him, but while Huan did so, still talking to him about the wires and what had gone on with your car, another mechanic in the shop had caught your eye. Bent over and inspecting the engine of a nice mustang was someone that you never expected to see again in your lifetime.
“Kris?”
At the sound of his name, Kris turned and met your eyes. When he did, his jaw went slack and his hand that was keeping him balanced above the engine slipped, causing his head to hit the lifted hood.
You snickered, not quite able to believe this situation in the slightest.
Rubbing the top of his head, he stuttered, “(y-y/n)? W-what are you doing here?”
Over your shoulder, you pointed with your thumb as your good-as-new car parked just outside. “My car broke down last night and we brought it here. This is just insane. Is this where you guys moved to?”
Eyes still wide open in shock, Kris gave you a shaky nod. “Yeah. Yeah, this is where we moved to.”
Something… strange was happening inside you. While Kris had always been slightly taller than you, now he just seemed like a giant, much taller and toned than you had ever imagined him to be. Not that you imagined what adult Kris would look like. Much.
As his brown eyes stared down at you in amazement, your heart started speeding up on its own. You scolded it for getting so worked up over nothing. Of course, Kris did seem to turn into a very handsome man, but that was to be expected. He was a cute kid so why shouldn’t he be an attractive adult? The ring on your left hand was suddenly much heavier.
“Hey, honey.” Huan came over and joined you, planting a kiss on your cheek. Affection like that was nothing new from him, but now you felt uncomfortable at his public display. Sensing some of the tension between you and Kris, he asked, “Do you two know each other?”
“Yeah,” you admitted quickly. “Huan, this is Kris, an old friend of mine. Kris, this is my fiancé, Huan.”
Huan, ever the pleasant and outgoing type, held his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”
On the other end, you could see the strain it took for Kris to return the gesture. “Pleasure to meet you, too.”
“Wait,” Huan grinned down at you. “Is this the Kris that you used to talk about all the time?”
Your own eyes went wide with panic. “N-not all the time.”
Kris laughed. “I’m a pretty impressionable guy, so I’m not surprised.”
That made you roll your eyes. Some things never change.
Huan didn’t seem to like the direction the conversation was going, so he looped an arm around your lower back. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Kris, but we should probably get going.”
“Yeah,” you agreed halfheartedly. Seeing Kris again so randomly was making your mind fuzzy. You needed to get out of here, but you didn’t want to leave.
“It was nice to meet you, Huan,” Kris said sincerely. Looking back to you, he gave a soft smile, “It was really good to see you again, (y/n).”
It was impossible not return it. “You, too, Kris.”
Your footsteps were heavy as you walked away from the shop. What strange coincidence was this?
Driving home in your newly fixed car, you were too preoccupied and lazy to cook anything for dinner so you picked up some take out instead, getting both of your usual orders.
At the table, Huan talked about his day like normal, but you found yourself only replying with “hms” and “huhs”. Kris’ face kept floating along in your mind. What had he been up to all these years? Did he go to the same school that you went to now? Did he work at the shop or own it? How were his parents, who always treated you like one of their own?
The muscles in the corner of your mouth pulled up at that last question, remembering the fond memories of playing at Kris’ house and being a bit spoiled by Mrs. Wu. Having no daughter of her own, she kind of doted on you, much to Kris’ irritation.
“What’s the smile for?” Huan asked.
You blinked, looking up from your food. “What?”
“You’re grinning,” he pointed at you with his fork. “What were you thinking about?”
“Just… fond memories,” you shrugged. “Kris’ parents were always really nice to me. I was just thinking about them.”
Huan nodded, looking a little relieved. “Oh, okay.”
He dropped the subject, much to your own relief.
Later that night, after the two of you had crawled into bed and said good night, you found yourself just lying there, staring at the wall and unable to fall asleep. Huan had no trouble drifting off, snoring loudly behind you with one arm draped over your waist, lazily holding you close.
Careful not wake him up, you slowly got out of bed, letting his arm slide off of you. Walking into the closet, you closed the door before turning on the light.
While most of your belongings were unpacked and put away, there was one box that you hadn’t quite gotten to yet. Most of the objects inside were things you didn’t really touch or hadn’t thought about in a long time so there wasn’t any hurry. Pulling the box down from the high shelf, you quietly set it on the floor and opened it up.
A lot of the knick-knacks were from your childhood; first day photos, crappy art projects, a yearbook here and there. Underneath all of that, though, was a very special shoe box. You’d put it away a long time ago, sometime before your sophomore year of college as your teen years were put behind you and real adulthood was coming along.
The contents inside were your most precious items. Items that reminded you of your best friend before he abruptly moved away without a single word of goodbye. It hurt to think about still, how you cried for a week straight while your mother held you and rocked you to sleep. All you wanted was your best friend back, but you didn’t know where he’d gone.
And now he’d magically appeared in front of you. What a jerk.
One by one, you pulled the items out, smiling as you did so. There were a few pictures of you and Kris from your zoo trips and birthday parties. Random rocks you’d found that you once thought were cool and even a red leaf that you’d laminated because you thought it was pretty and you didn’t want to lose it occupied space in the box. But the one thing that you were actually looking for was buried all the way down at the bottom.
Trying not to break the somewhat tangled chain, you pulled out the necklace and held it up.
On your thirteenth birthday, your mother surprised you by having the dumb moonstone that you’d always carried around in your pocket turned into a necklace that you could wear. The rock had always served its purpose, the one Kris had disposed upon it all those years ago. With it in sight, you really couldn’t think of anything else but him.
Sitting there on the floor of your closet in the middle of the night, you fiddled with the necklace, turning the stone in your hand over and over again. Was it a work of fate that he magically appeared in your life again? Or was it just a stunning coincidence?
Either way, you had an inkling feeling that your life was about to get a little complicated.
**
It was supposed to be a normal day at work. Kris was simply supposed to go in, work on the cars for the day and then go home to have dinner with the boys and maybe get some work done on his own baby.
The silver car that was parked out in front of the shop when he arrived in the morning didn’t seem like anything extraordinary. By lunchtime, he was able to get to the car, finding the problem right away thanks to his good eyes and the note left by the owner. He’d smiled when he read the name, thinking immediately of his childhood friend.
Never, ever in a million years would he ever expected that the same person who left the car and note would really be his old childhood friend – you. And not only that, but the biggest surprise was yet to come.
You were his mate.
The clenching feeling in Kris’ chest was almost overwhelming the second his eyes settled on you. Of course, he recognized you right away. You’d hardly changed at all, even though more than fifteen years had passed.
It was incredible. Something like this was rare, having known his mate since he was young. It seemed impossible that the one destined for him would be you.
And of course, being the smooth operator he was, he’d managed to slip and hurt himself on the car he was working on.
Then things just got worse.
A man came up to you and kissed you on the cheek. Reflexively, Kris’ muscles tightened on the wrench he gripped in his hand. The wolf inside growled at him to do something, to get that man away from his mate. But that was your fiancé. He couldn’t exactly just shove the guy off of you and steal you away.
Driving home that night, Kris felt like there was a war going on inside him. He’d held onto the memory of Jiyoon for so long, he didn’t know it would be this intense like to have those feelings washed away.
Kris had never wanted to find his mate. To him, no one could compare to Jiyoon. But… you felt like a mercy from Fate. The only person who could out shine Jiyoon would be the first girl he’d ever had a crush on.
But you had a fiancé. You’d already promised to spend your life with someone else. What was Kris to do about that?
Maybe this was for the better. If you were with Kris… something bad could happen to you. He couldn’t let you end up like Jiyoon. He didn’t want the same thing again. So, maybe this was meant to be. Kris had found his mate, but you could be happy with someone else. And… maybe you two could just be friends in this lifetime. The wolf didn’t like that idea.
A ferocious war indeed.
With heavy footsteps, Kris walked up to the farmhouse and stepped inside to the kitchen, expecting Kyungsoo to be slaving away at the stove on dinner. However, the house was quiet and no one seemed to be around.
“Hello?” Kris called out.
“No one’s home.” Junmyeon stepped into the kitchen. He was dressed down in sweats and a tank top, the complete opposite of his usual professor get up. In fact, he looked like shit. “They all went out for pizza a few hours ago. Chanyeol said he would text you.”
Frowning, Kris pulled out his phone. Sure enough, there was the text on his screen. He never heard the notification, probably because he was too lost in his thoughts. It was miracle he even made it home without an incident. He shrugged it off, not too put out by it. There was plenty of food in the fridge that he could eat and by now they’d be done and on their way home. Instead, he turned back to Junmyeon.
“What’s going on with you?”
Junmyeon sighed heavily, shuffling over to the breakfast booth. He sat down with a thump and rested his face in his hands.
Kris sat down across from him. “Junmyeon?”
He looked up and stared at Kris. “You don’t look much better.”
“Yeah,” Kris scoffed. “I just got the surprise of my life today.”
Junmyeon raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? I bet I can beat it with what happened to me last week.”
Sitting back, Kris smirked. “Really? Fine. We’ll say it at the same time and see who wins.”
Junmyeon actually laughed. “Alright. Deal.”
Kris held a hand up along with three fingers that went down with the numbers. “Three. Two. One.”
“I found my mate.” “I found my mate.”
The alpha wolves stared at each other in shock.
“Well,” Junmyeon swallowed, “this is quite the development.”
“Yeah,” Kris nod. “You got that right.”
Thunderous footsteps shook the house and the rest of the pack came tumbling into the kitchen from the front of the house. They were wrestling around and joking with each other, but when they noticed the two alphas sitting in the booth, the chatter stopped.
“Anything you guys want to share?” Minseok asked.
Kris looked at Junmyeon and waved his hand out. “You first.”
Junmyeon dropped his head down to the table and groaned. For Junmyeon to be this conflicted about finding his mate, the situation had to be either highly comical or deep trouble. Kris was curious to find out which one it was.
#exo#exo fanfiction#exo fanfic#exo wolf au#exo wolf!au#exo werewolf au#exo werewolf!au#exo supernatural au#exo scenarios#exo series#kris wu x reader#kris wu#wu yifan#Memories Past#untamed wolf universe
542 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Boy in the Belfry Pt. 4, a Bungo Stray Dogs fic.
The structure was still as ominous as ever. It didn't help the grim picture that he was standing in the middle of a storm. The thunder and lightning made his scars ache as a reminder of what had transpired inside of this church, many years ago.
But, he wasn't here for nostalgia.
He hobbled carefully towards the locked gates of the black-painted fence that protected the graveyard surrounding the run-down church.
In one of the lockers in his hospital room, he’d been relieved to find his tan coat, cleaned and hanging nicely on a wooden hanger. Luckily, the old brass key he’d received in the letter was still in one of the pockets.
He picked it up.
Once again, like the week before, he turned the key in the rusted lock, though, with a bit more trouble. It released the chains keeping the gate together and fell to the ground.
Dazai cursed under his breath at his failed attempted to catch it. The strain had been a little too much for his back, and now he would have to bend down to pick it up when he left. If he left.
Well, he would have to deal with that later.
He closed the gate behind him to the best of his ability with his limited range of movement, not wanting to raise the suspicion of anyone else that would possibly venture by at this time of night. Idiots like himself.
The short stairs to the large wooden door also proved to be a challenge in his weakened state, but with a little bit of patience (that he truly didn't have right now), he managed to get up, only to be greeted by a very much bolted-up-door.
'No, why did he bolt it shut?'
The familiar anger started to clutter his vision. Despite himself, he tried to knock.
“Hey!” He knocked harder. “Hey! Come on out, you... you... fuck!”
His voice broke as his knocks against the door grew to desperate thunder. With one hand. Then two.
“You're such a fucking coward!”
Crutches fell from armpits and landed on the stone flooring with two separate clangs. Instinctively, Dazai lowered his broken leg to keep his balance , bones still attached to the external fixation device.
The amount of pain that shot from his leg through his entire body was inhumane.
The moment his leg touched the ground, he collapsed. He couldn't keep himself from screaming out from the agonizing sensations and violent spasms, as he thrust on the ground in anger and hurt.
...
After some time, he was able to calm himself. He had finally managed to execute his stupidest stunt yet.
Probably. It definitely was up there.
The rain was pouring, and every inch of the pitiful man was soaked. If the fall hadn't killed him, pneumonia was a pretty good contender right now.
He needed to get out of this mess.
There was no way he could get up by himself. His back opposed to any movement, and his leg seemed to have pinned itself stuck in a crack in the stones he was now, miserably lying on.
'I have to do it... I don't want to. But, it's not the best time to die right now. It would be rather inconvenient actually... Goddammit.'
Painfully, he was able to reach into his pocket and retrieve his phone, mindlessly scrolling through numbers until it came to a stop in the last part of 's'.
Slug.
...
Chuuya's phone was ringing. It was in the middle of the night, and the high buzzing sound and a default ringtone woke him from a deep sleep. Hazy, blue eyes looked at the display- which said; Mackrell.
Nope.
He went back to sleep.
A few minutes later, his sleep was again interrupted. This time by a text message.
“Fucking bastard,” he growled and picked up the phone to see what could possibly be so important that his mortal enemy would text him in the middle of the night.
If it was another fucking video of a cat playing the piano, he would (secretly be pretty amused) unleash his ultimate power on that stupid walking roll of toilet paper and he didn't even care if he'd die if he could just...
- I need your help.
Chuuya pressed his face brutally against his pillow and groaned audibly.
He texted back and pressed send.
- Fuck you.
Then he turned around on his back, phone in hand and waited for some whiny and annoying response or some 'witty' reply with an invitation to do just that.
A couple of minutes went by. 10 minutes. 15.
Chuuya rolled his eyes and sighed.
'Great, now I'm getting worried.'
He reluctantly opened the message again and texted.
- Where?
A couple of moments went by before his phone rang. Chuuya pressed on the accept button so fast, that he got embarrassed for a moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, placing the phone to his ear.
“What? Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night! I swear to God, if you're not already dying, I'll personally make sure that you-”
“I might be dying,” Dazai's hoarse voice cut him off.
Chuuya kept silent, a bit set back by the deadpanned reply. A guttural cough was heard on the other end.
Chuuya let out a deep breath. “Where are you, bastard?”
“Church,” was all he said before the connection got cut.
“Church...? No. No, no, no. Dazai? Dazai!” Chuya looked furiously on the screen and tried to dial back, He waited. No reply.
“Fuck, Dazai, you stupid...” he sneered to his phone and got up from the bed, pulling on the first pieces of clothing he could find and sprinted out the door.
The big black landrover was almost comically opposite its small red-haired owner. There was nothing comical about the man’s expression of absolute terror though, as he sped through the dark street towards the church that he usually planned his trips to avoid at all costs.
He was about to pass it before he stepped on the brakes, and he jerked forward, only stopped by the seatbelt. The rain was pouring down so heavily at this point, that he could hardly see through the windows. He opened the car door and ran outside.
He saw him. Dazai was lying on the ground, right outside the door.
'What the fuck is he even doing here?'
The gate was slightly open, so he had no problems pushing past it. He looked wearily to each side, as he jogged the couple of feet between the gate and steps.
“What are you doing, you scrawny idiot?” he tried calling out, hoping to get a response.
He didn't.
Shit.
He kneeled by the limp man's side.
“Hey, Dazai. Come on.” He slapped his cheek tryingly. His cheeks were so cold.
Chuuya looked him over quickly, only then noticing the metal sticking out of his left leg.
“Jesus Christ, you really are an idiot,” he mumbled.
Dazai was still holding his phone, so Chuuya took it from his hand to make sure it wasn't already broken from all the water. To his surprise, it lit up when he touched the screen, only to realize that it was a message for him there, that he apparently hadn't been able to send before falling unconscious.
No hospital
Hatrack :-)
“You rather took the time to... fucking bastard.”
...
In spite of his moderate size, Chuuya was more than strong enough to carry Dazai from the car to his dormitory. There was no way in hell that he would show him where he lived.
Chuuya was a man with a plan. He had already found Dazai's keys while in the car, and without too much struggle he retrieved the right one and got them inside.
He didn't bother to show the courtesy of taking off his shoes before grimy loafers stepped inside, aqua eyes scanning his surroundings.
Dazai had a modest apartment. It was a small kitchen corner with an island for eating, a brown leather couch placed to face an old-looking bookcase and a kotatsu in the opposite corner. A sliding door lead into what Chuuya figured was the bedroom and lifted Dazai inside.
The bedroom was even more modest, only decorated with a futon and a small dresser.
He walked across the wooden floor and carefully placed the passed out man on the bed, lifting the blanket up and threw it on top of him.
Then, he stood up and looked around. There really wasn't much to look at.
The dresser had endless boxes and rolls of bandages on top of it, and a pair of glasses. Chuuya chuckled and lifted them up, trying them on.
“Jeeze, Dazai. When did you go blind?” He proceeded to squint around the room, realizing that there wasn't a single mirror. Of course, there wasn't.
Chuuya placed the spectacles back onto the dresser before he heard something stir behind him.
He turned to look at Dazai, now with eyes half-lidded, peering up at him.
“Look who finally decided to wake up. Pretty conveniently after I've struggled to drag him up the stairs.”
“Just wanted you to carry me over the threshold, chibi,” the weak voice snickered, before letting out a painful sigh. “Chuuya, would you mind handing me some clothes from the dresser. Whatever's fine.”
“Glad you're finally ready to listen to my fashion advice.”
“If I wanted to join the circus, perhaps.”
Chuuya grimaced but opened the first drawer. The only thing laying there was a grey cotton shirt and a pair of black joggers.
“You literally have one shirt and one pair of pants.”
Dazai shrugged and forced himself to sit upright with his teeth clenched.
After a short break dedicated to catching his raspy breath, he started to take off his soaked jacket.
Chuuya turned with the clothes in his arms, first now noticing that Dazai was wearing a hospital gown. With the back showing, he could see that the ties in the back had come undone, and the soaked bandages underneath had started to loosen.
“Did you... escape from a hospital or something?”
“Yeah,” Dazai breathed and disposed of the gown. The bandages were completely loose now, and Chuuya could clearly see the familiar disfigured back.
The scarring that embroidered every inch of Dazai's body.
Dazai couldn't reach around to cover it back up. His fractured spine made his movements very limited, and he had realized that it just wasn't going to happen.
Chuuya noticed the fresh surgical scar in the middle of his back.
«I can't reach,» Dazai said silently, but suddenly turned his face towards Chuuya with a cheeky grin. «Hah, it must be nice hearing someone else say that for once.»
Chuuya snorted but finally chipped his shoes off, returned to the dresser to pick up some new bandages and crouched behind his former friend, giving him a slap across the head and not holding anything back.
Reaching for a piece of gauze, he peeled off the protective layer and carefully placed it along the scar.
«Do I even need to ask what happened?» he mumbled, reaching for a set of fresh bandages on his right.
«I didn't try to kill myself,» Dazai answered with a faint smile.
«Really? Are you telling me that you're finally maturing?»
«Tch, never.»
Chuuja continued his work in silence, covering every little blemish on Dazai's back, as he knew he needed.
«Are you in pain?» he finally asked.
«I'm fine,» Dazai sighed.
«That bad, huh?»
A melancholic smile appeared on Dazai's face. Chuuya had always been able to read him like a book. He probably knew him better than he knew himself.
«There, is that okay?» Chuuya asked, fastening the last piece of the bandage.
«Sure. Thank you, Chuuya.» Dazai hesitated and turned to face Chuuya. «So, about today...»
«Yeah, I'm kinda curious. Spit it out, patchy.»
«He's back.»
The small red-head looked thoughtfully on the slender man on the bed.
“Fuck... Yeah, I kinda figured. And I'm guessing it has absolutely everything to do with your sorry-ass-state?”
Dazai didn't answer. Chuuya sighed.
«I need alcohol. Do you have any wine?»
«Aren't you driving?»
Chuuya shot back with a venomous stare, telling him not to go there.
«In the kitchen cabinet. Do you mind bringing me some sake?»
«Aren't you on pain medications?»
Dazai gave him a stare, telling him not to go there right back.
#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#fanfiction#Boy in the belfry#Dazai Osamu#Nakahara Chuuya#dazai centric
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE LOST CAT PODCAST TRANSCRIPTS: SEASON 4: THE HOLLOW CITY: EPISODE 05
SEASON 4: THE HOLLOW CITY: EPISODE 05
Episode released 9th November 2018
http://thelostcat.libsyn.com/season-4-the-hollow-city-episode-5
“The very first beginnings of the Hollow People are quite mysterious,” Dr Uremides said. “There are hints, certainly. In the shadows of faded paintings, or in the scribbled out margins of ancient books. The insides of people, people inside out. I fear any origins are buried beneath layers of folklore, superstitions and fairy tales. I am sure you have heard stories of puppets coming to life, or of people under spells made to do terrible things against their will?” and his eye spun in glee. “Some of them are very nasty indeed!”
THE LOST CAT PODCAST SEASON 4, BY A P CLARKE: THE HOLLOW CITY: EPISODE 5.
In a city underneath the city, Dr Uremides walked Lisica through its tunnels, towards the Vampires’ lair. Lisica walked, very patiently, at the Doctor’s pace.
“You Hollows are not what I expected.”
“For you humans, your surface is just a mask you can play a performance upon, but for us it is the play entire. Nothing underneath, nothing hidden, as it were. We are an honest people, I suppose you can say. I see you sometimes wear a mask too.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Sometimes it can be useful to hide things.”
They walked past corridors leading to further spaces, opening up beyond her sight. Though the corridors were basic, they were draped in curtains and ribbons and banners, all in green and yellow colours. The banners often hid the wires for the electric lights, but they hid them well. People had cared about these spaces, and the corridors curved round and round.
“And what of those above?” and Lisica indicated the sky at this.
“Of gods, I can not speak.”
“Where were you? Before this place?”
“We were lost. Our story starts a century or so ago. This was a time of great change in this country, and a time of great cities. It is from this age Hollow people know our history.
In the villages there was no where to hide and none lasted long enough to pass these stories down, you see. In the cities they could go unnoticed in the crowds of dirty workers. They could slide between the bricks, they could take advantage of their abilities.
Some were thieves and connivers and all the other benighted activities open to those who live beneath the boundaries of a society. Most were scavengers so filthy they could not be told apart from the packs of dogs they shared the streets with. They had no idea how to do anything else: Hollows, you see. And what they looked like on the outside was simply who they were. But then, some decades ago now, two Hollow men came and started gathering the scattered people together, organised them, gave them purpose, gave them an identity: a society made for them. A society made of them.”
And as they walked Lisica noticed how, on almost every corner was a statue, either of a rotund, boistorous gentlemen, or a tall, distinguished man. Around them were green and yellow banners, but also flowers: fresh.
“To find somewhere to hide, they took their people underground. And they found there was space underneath the city. Enough to survive. Enough to grow. Green and Yellow are the colours of our great leaders, Barnabus and Xavier, and the people of the city wear them with pride.”
“Nice,” said Lisica.
This place was big, and Lisica realised they had turned about so much she had almost no idea where they were at all. Such novelties of the age, such as GPS, simply would not work down here.
And finally they arrived at a great central concourse, with shops all along the edges, people and animals scurrying to and fro and, at the far end, two great doors, as high as the ceiling, draped in the most shining green and yellow material: quite obviously the residence, indeed palace, of the leaders of the Hollow people. Its walls glistened with trickling water, and the slightly stuffy smell of gas-lamps and old air was replaced with hints of a strange fragrance she could not quite place. It even had a balcony from where the leaders could address this central concourse. It was, in its own humble way, really quite grand.
“This is our city. This is us.”
“Well, I like it, friend.”
“Thank you. Now this is as far as I can take you, sadly. But, as promised, I will tell you how to reach the Vampires from here.”
He did so, and then turned and walked towards the gates of the palace, and with a raise of his hand the gates began to open for him, which Lisica idly thought was fairly impressive for a doctor.
And, once he was out of sight, she turned in the direction of the Vampires’ lair, and started running.
Now she could not deny: the strange rivalry between the Ghost and the Vampire spoke to some hidden story - she knew that. And The good doctor’s history was full of fascinations. But she did not pretend that it was the sniff of mystery that made her heart pump and her skin prickle as she raced on.
The directions Dr Uremides gave were: “Head down, to the east beyond the sties, the tunnels will turn to brick and you will have entered the old sewer systems. Spiral clockwise, and keep going until the ground gives out. This is The Plunge, and you will know it when you find it. And that is where the Vampires live.”
This Hollow City stretched out far further than she would have thought. But she followed her nose to find the sties, followed the spiral down and found herself in ancient, broken, unused sewers. The bricks grew sparse, then the air changed from close to thin. Her steps began to echo.
She lit a flare and threw it forwards. Ahead of her the entire tunnel gave way in to a great hole: wide, open and completely dark.
She threw a stone down the hole. She listened for the hit. But nothing came.
Then there was a low stretching sound as of some membrane put under pressure. There was a sound as of wet tearing then a great and growing howling, beginning as high pitched as a kettle’s boil and descending into a roar, as a flume of putrid air blew up the pipe and filled the chamber with a noxious smell that Lisica, who was no stranger to slaughterhouse nor ossuary, had never experienced the likes of.
The shriek died down, and the air slowly cleared, and a glolloping noise from beneath suggested the tear had been sealed.
Lisica peered down in to the darkness.
“Don’t fall,” she said, and started climbing down.
She had no idea how far she had descended. It was pitch black both beneath and above her. There was simply no way to tell other than the tiredness of her arms. Her arms grew very tired. But still she descended in the pitch black. Now Lisica was good enough that she knew that when he main senses were denied to her, to pay attention to whatever ones she had left. And lacking anything else, and even in this foetid hole, She paid attention to her nose, which was picking up the faintest of smells, separate and distinct against the somewhat pungent effluvium of the atmosphere around her. And so it was this she followed down in to the plunge until her fingers rounded on an opening in the wall.
“Ah,” she said, with something approaching smugness.
She dropped down and began walking down a corridor. The corridor stretched out endlessly. But the smells grew ever steadily stronger. A rhythmic sound could be faintly heard, and the silhouette of the walls could now just be made out, suggesting a light source, in pulsing oranges and pale purple, was somewhere up ahead.
She could not recognise the smell, it was far too faint, and far too complicated. She carried on down the corridor.
It was the smell you get when you boil enough bones.
It was the smell acid makes as it finally breaks the surface.
The sound of a thousand teeth in a mortar.
The sound of flesh being pressed dry.
It was the light you get when you burn the hair.
The light of fillings glowing.
Now there were small alcoves on either side of the corridor. Empty at first, but then filled with the shapes of things.
She peered in as she passed and found the mounds were collections.
Every room a different thing. On the right were old coats, all piled in chaotic heaps. On the left, suitcases. On the right, watches: thousands of watches, ticking. On the left were teddy bears, of every size in a drift in every corner of the room. The ones near the bottom were sodden black and decayed from years of the damp while others scattered on the top still had their bright coloured fur.
There was also a skittering sound of something moving, and Lisica ducked in to an alcove. The floor squelched.
A figure scuttled over the lip of the arch about halfway up the wall. There it perched and looked around the dark corridor. It sniffed, turned its head this way and that, sniffed again. It turned its head towards Lisica. It sniffed once more.
Lisica could see the pale skin and shining eyes, the flicking tongue behind beautiful lips of a Vampire, almost eerily similar to the dark lady she had met back then, in the street.
Lisica looked around her hiding place for some further cover, but only saw piles of bone pale bags stitched of an indeterminate leather, dripping with thick and sticking blood.
“Nope,” Lisica said to herself. She took a deep sigh, and then strutted out in to the corridor “Hi there! I wonder if you could help me. I’m looking for someone.”
The figure skipped lightly to the floor, looked Lisica right the way over, tilted its head upwards and gave out a long screeching call. The screech swept past Lisica and up stairs into every hall.
“Ah nuts.”
The skittering sound grew, became many. The screech became a chorus.
“Intruder!”
“Defiler!”
“So I should run?” asked Lisica.
The answer came back screaming.
Lisica ran, remembering full well how long that corridor was. She ran on down along dark, dank walls.
The walls began to move as shapes flashed past her, over her, around her. She fled past all the collection rooms, out towards the opening, and a black figure rose up before her. It towered over her. She was knocked back to the ground and when she looked up, the entire ceiling was seething.
Then the mass of black shapes above her unfurled and they all dropped down and then everything went...BLACK.
THIS HAS BEEN THE FIFTH EPISODE OF THE HOLLOW CITY, THE FOURTH SEASON OF THE LOST CAT PODCAST, WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY A P CLARKE. COPYRIGHT 2018.
THANK YOU FOR LISTENING.
Links
thelostcat.libsyn.com
twitter.com/LostCatPod
thelostcatpodcast.tumblr.com
facebook.com/lostcatpodcast
soundcloud.com/a-p-clarke/sets/the-lost-cat-podcast
apclarke.bandcamp.com/releases
#cat#lost cat#lost cat podcast#the lost cat podcast#transcript#podcast#audiodrama#audio drama#horror#adventure#goth
1 note
·
View note
Text
OC Interview Tag Game
Technically tagged by @timetravelingpigeon (I’m counting “anyone who wants to do this” as me ok :P)
Rules: Pick a character from your WIP, and have them answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people
1: What is your full name?
Orthrive’poliea.
2: What does your full name mean?
[There’s a pause.]
That’s incredibly personal.
[Warren loudly clears his throat in the corner of the room. Thrive closes his eyes, exhales calmly through his nose.]
...Traditionally, Orthrive is my heart name, and Poliea is my honor name. Poliea is a nebula formed when the Ammathu ripped a dying star from the sky. In its original old-world Solnai, “Poliea” is “Honor of Power;” The Judge.
3: What are your other names/nicknames?
[Thrive glances over at Warren.]
He’s partial to calling me Thrive, though, in essence, it means nothing in the context of my full name.
...Mr. Sympa has taken to calling me “old man.” Or...“gorge.” A shortening of “gorgeous.” Which I question, but don’t necessarily discourage.
4: What’s your gender?
There is a complex answer to this. I am, under the scrutiny of human binary or lack thereof, considered male. In obhelian biological terms my gender was classified under r’ahy as 3130, or HY3130, which is....
[He stops.]
...Not important.
5: What’s your sexuality?
[Thrive rolls his eyes.]
I will never understand the need to differentiate the various classifications of attraction in regards to sexual interest, romantic interest, et cetera. There was no sexuality amongst the obhelians. We found love, we lost love. Continued the cycle. The biological need to reproduce and the subsequent feelings separate from such had evolved out of us long ago.
And not that it’s anybody's concern, present company excluded, but I can only feel arousal when making physical contact with someone else who is feeling aroused at the time due to my ability to read emotions through touch.
[Warren waggles his eyebrows. Thrive deadpans at the camera.]
6: Where are you from?
I was born in a country on Slodia called Tey, presumably under the scrutiny of the Slodian government.
7: How old are you?
Eight thousand, two hundred and sixty-nine years, roughly estimated.
[Warren snorts.]
The silent commentary is unsolicited, Warren.
8: What is your magic form/what species are you?
...I’m obhelian.
9: What does your human form look like?
Blond hair, green eyes, tall, bronzed skin, mildly muscular—
[“With bangin’ assets,” Warren interrupts.]
...I have no say in the appearance of any form that I take, so this is what the universe chose for me, I suppose.
10: What’s your aesthetic?
...Explain.
[He waits patiently for Warren to finish explaining, after which Thrive narrows his eyes and frowns.]
...Well...Slodia was very cold at night and had many sprawling deserts and a vast ocean. My aesthetic, if we must sum it all up, is crippling loneliness.
[There’s another pause. Warren lets out a bark of laughter and the corner of Thrive’s mouth twitches upward.]
11: Who’s your best friend?
[He looks over to Warren, who doesn’t see this as he’s too busy laughing. Thrive’s face dawns with secrecy and he gives the camera a cryptic smile.]
12: Would you ever get a piercing/ tattoo?
I don’t believe either would be permanent on the skin of any of my unnatural forms. I wouldn’t want anything, anyway.
13: When are you happiest?
That’s....
[He trails off, silent for a long time. His frown this time is thoughtful. The longer he takes to think, the more he seems to realize something, and when he and Warren make eye contact, he closes his mouth and doesn’t answer.]
14: What’s your biggest secret?
If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a secret anymore, would it?
Though I suppose I could tell you there is something about me that’s...different. Something about my genes. And even that’s saying far too much.
15: What was your first impression of [Warren]?
I didn’t trust him. Didn’t care for him. Wished he would...what was the phrase you used, Warren? I wished you would “play in traffic?”
["Uhh yeah that sounds about right.”]
Well.
[Thrive smirks.]
How the passage of time shifts the universe.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Day He Died (pt 2)
--> the last one got cut off bc we love 100 paragraphs limit so we'll just continue off where we left off.
"My father- is he okay? Where is he?"
Grace's smile faded. Sympathy etched her eyes.
"Your father did not make it, but you protected your friend."
Emotion swelled up and a sob escaped from your mouth. It was ugly and loud and you clamped a hand over your mouth as tears poured from your eyes.
Grace rubbed a hand over your arm, trying to sooth you.
It was later in the afternoon that you heard a knock on your door. You had been crying for hours, but it finally felt like there were no more tears left in your body.
The door slowly opened and the timid boy, Ben, from the party peeked in.
He wasn't wearing his mask, but when he entered the room you could see he was still wearing the uniform.
"Hey... I just wanted to check on you.." His voice was almost like a whisper. He stood awkwardly next to the door, his hands held behind his back.
He looked around the room, his nervousness nearly palpable.
"I, uh, brought you something?"
You looked up at him and gently smiled. After all, your whole childhood was meant to be the perfect little girl your parents had raised you to be. If someone felt uncomfortable around you, you were doing something wrong. So, you invited him to sit on the bed with you.
He perched nervously on the edge of the mattress and held out a store bag to you.
"Oh, you didn't have to, Ben."
He raised his eyebrows. "You remember my name?"
"Of course I do."
He seemed touched by this. You assumed he must've been neglected as a child. Living with four other kids could do that.
You grabbed the bag and opened it. You picked up a small white box, and inside the box was a silver chain with a small blue pendant hanging from it.
"It's beautiful."
He gave you a weak smile, but he seemed happy by your gratitude.
You both sat in silence for a bit, but a question pressed at you.
"What happened? At the party."
He scratched the back of his neck.
"Ben..?
He glanced over at you, and then the door. Finally he spoke up.
"Some guys with guns came in. They shot the Vice President. And you."
"What happened after that?"
He cleared his throat and shifted on the bed.
"My brothers and sister and I, we fought them off." He looked over at you, then down at your stomach, where the blankets hid the bandages that were probably still soaked in blood.
"You killed someone."
Your face felt like someone threw cold water on it.
"I- what?"
"You killed someone. He stood over you and you just stared at him and- I don't know how to describe it. The blood on the floor- it moved towards you, like-like a vacuum was sucking it back towards you. And then he just started shaking, then he got a nose bleed and fell down." He spoke frantically.
What did you do? You put your head in your hands.
"I- I killed someone? I'm a monster..."
Ben's hands grabbed yours and suddenly he was staring intensely at you.
"No. You are nothing of the sort. You defended yourself."
"Ah, Miss Y/L/N. You are awake."
Ben jumped off the bed and stood at attention, like a soldier would. Sir Hargreeves walked into the room. His shoes clicked off the floor and his back stood very straight.
Everything about him freaked you out.
"Hello Sir Hargreeves." You kept the sentence very curt. You wanted him to leave.
"I hope Grace and Ben have attended to you dutifully. A politician's daughter deserves the best."
The mention of your father sent a pang of pain through your nerves, enticing tears to creep into your eyes, but you held it together.
"Due to the unfortunate events of last evening, you have been enrolled in the Umbrella Academy. When you are healed, you will begin training at once. Breakfast is at 8 a.m. Studies are from 9 o'clock to 3 o'clock. You may observe my other children's training at 4 o'clock. Dinner is at 7 p.m. You will find your uniforms in the closet. Rest well now."
Hargreeves turned his back to you and began to walk out of the room.
"Wait!" You called out to him.
He turned on his heel and he looked annoyed.
'My mother, what happened to her?"
He smirked a bit. "She felt that you would be better suited at the Academy and has found herself unable to attend to a child."
He walked out without another word.
That was the day you began to feel hate. Hate for Reginald. Hate for your mother. Hate for yourself.
Now, over a decade later, you returned to the house you despised, to celebrate the death of the man you despised. You were Number 8. You could control blood. And you were ecstatic that Reginald's blood no longer flowed.
The reunion was bittersweet. You all sat around the kitchen table, listening to each other's stories. Allison became a pop star with a decaying marriage, but reading about her in the magazines always interested you. Oh how her reality seemed like a dream. Probably because it was. You hadn't spoken to Luther since you left the house. Apparently he went to the moon- which he wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. Poor Daddy's Boy was perturbed by Reginald's death. It was probably wise he didn't know you were happy about it. He seemed all too excited to blame one of his siblings for the death. Diego wore this leather superhero costume. You observed him. You guessed growing up a superhero didn't easily wash away from someone. The whole vigilante thing did scare you, as Diego's safety was always a concern for you. Giving knives to a small child wasn't a smart idea of Reginald's, so that seemed to have some lasting effects to Diego's recklessness. Klaus's drug addiction took over his life. You watched him stumble into the house, obviously high, and a hospital bracelet circled his wrist. He looked tired, his eyes dark and sunken, yet his energetic self drew attention away from his own mess. It was probably for the best that he wasn't in a state to contact Reginald. Vanya was the last to show up. Growing up, she was always very quiet and pushed to the side. She still acted like that, like a victim. You tried being friends with her as a kid, but she always seemed intimidated by you, maybe even jealous. Being a politicians daughter though, you learned not to bother yourself with people who were not constantly in the lime light, and so, you never had a relationship with Vanya. You quietly watched the messed up kids you grew up with sit around the lounge. You kept separate. You never felt like you fit in, not the way Vanya did, but because you didn't want to. They all accepted the life they were drawn into by Reginald, but you despised it. This wasn't your life, and it never would be.
You grew up to become a politician, like your father. You advocated women's rights, children's rights, and adoption rights. You traveled the world, met world leaders, and rose through the ranks rapidly.
How you did it? Well, your father raised you right, but so did Reginald.
Like the Academy, you learned how to fight, but instead of becoming a superhero, well, you became a villain. And no, you weren't the "I want to take over the world" villain, you had a goal, and you were going to accomplish that goal by any means necessary. You've drained the blood out of dictators of third world countries. You've seen the blood flow from the eyes of abusive parents. You've had political dinners end with corrupt politicians, face down in their soup with blood dripping from the table cloths to stop all out nuclear war. You were the best of the best. And yes, you were technically a bad guy, but you were damn good at it.
And that's how Reginald died.
It was two days ago, you were in the city in which your step-"father" lived, and you wanted to visit Grace, the robotic woman who was more motherly than your own mother. You had walked through the mahogany double doors and were greeted by Grace's warm embrace.
"Sir Reginald isn't in right now, but please stay for tea or coffee or whatever you like." She had patted your head and led you into the kitchen. She learned when you first joined the family that you had no intention of calling Reginald your father, and she respected that, which made you love her more.
She had made you tea and sat with you, listening to the March rain patter against the windows. Her presence relaxed you and made you forget about the bloody lifestyle you lived. After some light conversation about your job, Allison's front page scandals, and whatever small talk you could think of, you eventually found yourself wandering the house.
You then found yourself staring at the doors of Reginald's study. The doors were shut and the room itself emanated pure coldness that bit through the normal warmth of the rest of the house.
For some reason, you were compelled to go inside. You gently brushed your fingers against the old books on the bookshelves. The smell of the room was like a library, but Reginald's cologne choked through the papery smell of the books- really any trace of him made you angry.
You looked at his desk and noticed an open book with his large scrawling script etched onto the pages. You gently picked up the book and turned to the cover. Pressed into the leathery black cover was 00.06 in small golden numbers.
Ben...
Why would Reginald review his notes on Ben? He had been dead for years now. The memory of the accident burned your eyes and your vision became blurred. Sucking in a breath and telling yourself to be a big girl, you flipped back to the page Reginald had left off on.
The page was dated that day, but as you read on, more and more hatred for Reginald brewed.
"Number 6 held some of the best potential, the monsters beneath his skin held power that he could have unlocked if he accepted who he was, alas, he rejected himself. He became useless to me, but he also had a natural born gift: persuasion. That's why I did what I did, his ghost would unlock the abilities of my next best potential: Number Four. He possesses abilities that he shuns with his drug abuse, and I believe Number Six's ghost will persuade him to delve into his true potential."
You heard the study doors open and looked up. Your eyes locked with Reginald's. You expected him to be furious, but he calmly walked in and stood across from you on the other side of the desk.
"Number Eight-"
"Its Y/N."
His lips thinned in annoyance, but he continued.
"Y/N... You understand why I did what I did."
Pure hatred for him swelled up within you.
"No, I don't. You had no reason to-"
He stopped you with a wave of his hand.
"You understand because you have become me."
"Excuse me?"
Reginald walked around the desk, cornering you. You tried to back up, but the back of your knees knocked into his chair, throwing off your balance and nearly pushing you down into the seat. Reginald stared down at you, his expression bland, yet his eyes cold and grim.
"You kill to get what you need done. I had Number Six killed because I needed my other children to thrive. He stood in the way of progress, but now his death can benefit the Academy, rather than be detrimental to the group's overall health." He paused a bit, letting the words crash over you. "All those orphaned children and abused women that you protect? Their rights and liberty are soaked in the blood you spill."
You felt the tears climb up your throat. You pushed the emotions aside, not letting Reginald see how his words had affected you.
Without another sentence, you pushed past him and out of the study. You ran out of that horrid house, and the rain outside mixed into your sobs as you ran down the sidewalk.
It was later that evening, and you sat in your hotel room. The same grief you felt when Ben had first died hovered over you, but you decided that instead of reaching out to your siblings about your revelation, it was easier to drown your sorrows with a bottle of whiskey. The sting of the liquor distracted you from how your throat scratched from sobbing for hours.
You sat up from bed and replayed that evening for the millionth time in your head. All you could focus on was the lack of emotion on Reginald's face- how Ben's death was nothing more than a ploy, an experiment, a plan- whatever you want to call it. You hated this man. Hated him so much. He killed the one person who showed you true, human kindness in that wretched house.
You looked up into a mirror that faced the bed. You looked like a mess, with your business suit wrinkled and hair disheveled and mascara runny. What you really focused on was the redness in your face; the red tip of your nose, the puffiness of your eyes, your overly heated cheeks, and your bloodshot eyes. The red- a color that represents love, lust, and your favorite matter- blood. You wanted to see that red drained from Reginald's body, just like it drained from your father and all those you introduced to an early and awful death.
And that's exactly what you did.
Late in the night, you crept back into that house. Well, more stumbled in your drunken state. You climbed the old stairs, past Grace who was recharging- which meant she was offline- perfect. Pogo was no where to be found, probably asleep in whatever cage your horrid step-"father" kept him in.
Then, you slowly opened the doors to Reginald's room. A single lamp was on and he sat at a desk in his room, reading some book.
His back was to you and in all his glorious ass-holiness, he muttered, "Grace, I am busy."
You swallowed, preparing you to finish the deed that had brought you here.
"Too bad I'm not Grace."
Reginald's head whipped around, his monocle nearly falling from his face.
#the umbrella academy imagine#umbrella academy#the umbrella academy#ben hargreeves imagine#ben hargreeves#klaus hargreeves imagine#klaus imagine#klaus hargreeves#luther hargreeves#allison hargreeves#diego hargreeves#diego x reader#fuck reginald#luther hate club#tua ben#The Day He Died
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Token, My Liege? Pt3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | ????
((Posting this piece here because I want to make sure the read more works consistently on this one.
Warnings:
Bullying -- name calling, implications of sexual favors for privileges, hints of potential steep escalation in the near future
Things will likely get a lot lighter in the next segments. Honestly from this point on everything is mostly focused on Uryuu’s life getting better. I mean, there will still be a bit here and there, but mostly Ichigo comes down heavy on everyone involved and most of the worst of the lot get scattered to distant parts of the kingdom.))
Ichigo holds his magic in close, exactly how Hat’n’Clogs taught him years ago, and moves with careful steps through the knights’ hall. He’s invisible, but neither intangible nor soundless — Shiro’s never been interested in learning the finer points of illusion and sensory-deception magic, and Ichigo has even less of an aptitude than his twin.
So he keeps to the walls and strains his hearing, moving between conversations and trying to find any hint of the rot that apparently exists.
He thinks he knows how he could have missed it for so long; almost everything he’s overhearing is innocent, just common chatter that he’s heard time and time again. Except here and there…
“—can’t wait to see him get his—” “—he’s a loner, that’s reason enough—” “—fault if he gets separated—”
Ichigo scowls and tries to determine if whatever he’s overhearing is trouble or he’s just reading into things. If it /is/ trouble, he doesn’t like where it’s leading; with a war on the horizon and deployment inevitable, talk about loners and being separated leads his mind down a dark path that he’d rather not tread.
(But that’s not enough to go on.)
(He hates sneaking around like this.)
He circles the room again and closes in, wending his way through the tables and straining to pick out the different threads of conversation going on all around him. He scans expressions as he moves, looking for something, /anything/ obvious, and knowing he isn’t going to find it.
“—mag-null, right?—” “—say we didn’t know—” “—sounds good, let’s—”
Ichigo freezes the instant he hears ‘mag-null’ and tilts his head, turning in a slow circle and trying to find the source. He spots one of his knights sporting an uncertain look, and steps closer to the table the man is at.
(That’s not language he has /ever/ approved of.)
(Mag-null. Someone born without magic. Someone of /lesser value/ because of it.)
(He despises the word and the intent behind it.)
“—should be easy enough,” another knight is saying, her hand waving absently. “He likes solo missions, right? And the commanders are always giving them to him.”
A second knight scoffs and pushes aside his empty bowl, then sets his elbow on the table and props his chin on his hand. “It’s about the only way a mag-null like him can get any missions, solos like those.”
“Mag-null or not, who’d want to work with /him/?” a third asks incredulously, gesturing about with her spoon before digging it back into her food. “He’s insufferable enough around the castle, constantly showing off. I’d hate to imagine what he’s like in the field.” She gives the whole table a look, and Ichigo is disgusted to see every knight there nodding in agreement, even the ones who are only listening.
(Even if this isn’t about Ishida Uryuu, Ichigo isn’t about to let talk like this slide.)
“I dunno,” the second knight says with annoyance. “His superiors seem to like him. He only has to ask, and off he trots on a solo.”
The first snorts and shakes her head. “Kenta, you poor, innocent soul.” At the man’s frown, she leans forward with a wicked smirk and says in a low tone, “There’s a /reason/ his superiors like him, and it’s certainly not his attitude.”
Ichigo bites his lip hard enough to taste blood when one of the other knights snickers and makes a lewd gesture. He’s had more than enough of this conversation, even if he doesn’t know for sure who they’re talking about. But if he lingers here any longer, he’s going to be too tempted to just… start bashing heads together and pitching everyone involved out of the knighthood.
But Shiro’s right, they don’t know how far this goes, or how many people are involved. So instead, Ichigo turns to memorizing each knight’s insignia; he’s never been able to put names to faces reliably, but he’s found ways around that as he grew older.
Like the insignia, unique for every knight under his command, and attached to a dossier he keeps in his office. He’ll be able to make a list of /everyone/ in this conversation, and he’ll make sure to mark the apparent ringleaders.
Halfway through memorizing the insignia, though, one of the knights makes an excited noise and stands. There’s a cruel gleam in his eyes, and his smile is less than friendly as he waves at someone walking through the door.
“Hey, Ishida!” the knight calls out, then narrows his eyes when the newcomer doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”
Ichigo frowns and scans the rest of the hall, taking in the way the other tables have quieted down a bit, and the way some knights are hunching forward. None of them are speaking up, though, not even the ones that appear unaffected by the call-out. They’re all studiously ignoring what’s going on, except for a few covert glances.
(How did he /miss this/? How long has this behavior been going on under his nose?)
The standing knight growls in frustration and leans forward, resting his hands on the table. “Well, if you want to sit by yourself, be my guest,” he drawls. “I was only going to invite you to sit with us, since everywhere else is full.”
“Are you certain you don’t require glasses, Faran?” Ishida asks, tone dry as dust. He gestures at the tables around him, many of which have at least a bit of room, then shrugs and turns away. He starts to make his way towards one of the nearly empty tables in the back, throwing over his shoulder, “Perhaps you should look into that. The battlefield is no place for poor vision.”
The first knight barks a laugh, her smile sharp. “Speaking from experience, Ishida? Is that why you’re always taking solo missions, because you don’t want to look helpless in front of your peers when the enemy knocks your glasses off?”
“You should let us help,” Kenta pipes up, voice heavy with fake sympathy. He flashes Ishida an insincere smile when he freezes and turns back, and continues, “There’s no shame in weakness, after all. That’s what we’re here for, to help.”
Ichigo swallows his disgust at the words, and hastily finishes memorizing the insignias of the knights at the table. Forget listening further, he needs to leave and return openly, before the darkness he can see in Ishida’s eyes turns into something /worse/.
(No wonder Urahara decided to work around his promise at last.)
“Your help?” Ishida repeats, lips curling up to expose the tips of his teeth, disdain in every line of his body. “And what help would that be, Matsunu? If it’s your usual brand, I feel the need to warn you that Swallow takes… poorly to those she believes are threatening me.”
“That old nag? I don’t see why you still ride her, Ishida,” the first knight says with a scoff. “Just because your mother gave her to you as a child, doesn’t mean you should still be forcing her into battle. All she does all day is sleep in the stable.”
Ishida gives the knight a blank look, then glances at the others around the table, looking for something that he clearly doesn’t find. His shoulders slump a bit, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, saying, “If you want to be that blind, be my guest, please. Keep proving to me you’re all failures as knights.”
“Damn mag-null,” Kenta mutters darkly, then bares his teeth at Ishida in a pretense of a smile. “Failures, are we?” he asks while rising to his feet, one hand settling over the pommel of his sword. “I think it’s the opposite, isn’t it? At least we’re capable of working as a team and supporting one another. All a mag-null bow knight like you is good for is getting into trouble and being shot down by a mage.”
(’Shot down’?)
(Ichigo doesn’t have any aerial knights under his command…)
Ishida stalks closer, chin tilting up and expression a blank mask hiding a fury that Ichigo can nearly feel. The sight makes Ichigo stiffen and cast a confused look at the group of knights; he /knows/ that expression, that look of leashed fury, and it’s enough for his mind to finally link faces to positions to /names/.
Ishida Ryuuken is one of the strongest War Priests that Ichigo has ever met. For his /son/ to lack magic beggars belief; magic doesn’t simply /die out/ in a single generation. It dwindles, lingering in the bloodline for generations and providing skills and abilities that those without a drop of magic cannot duplicate.
(So who taught Ishida Uryuu to hide himself so thoroughly and consistently?)
(And what does Ishida’s dossier say about his ability — or lack thereof — with magic?)
Ichigo shakes his head and digs his nails into his palms, trying to clear his mind. It doesn’t matter who taught Ishida what, not now. Not when he can almost taste the coming violence.
(He wonders if intervening now is too little, too late. If there’s anything of Ishida’s loyalty /left/ after who knows how many years of torment.)
(Torment that Ichigo has been blind to the entire time.)
He can’t afford to think like that, though. Not now and not ever. The only thing he can do is try, and right now ‘trying’ means breaking the coming violence up before it begins.
Ichigo hurries out, keeping his steps as silent as he can, and slips into a hidden passage. Everyone knows that there are hidden passages in the castle, and everyone /knows/ that the passages are shielded against people sensing those within them.
Ichigo strips Shiro’s spell from his body, allows his magic to unfurl from his core, and breathes a sigh of relief.
(He hates hiding. Hates restraining his power so thoroughly. But needs must.)
Then, squaring his shoulders and gathering himself, Ichigo strides from the hidden passage and towards the knight’s hall.
He has a fight to stop and a group of knights to examine carefully.
Maybe he’ll even figure out why he’s missed this mess for so long.
#bleach#my fic#drabbles#unedited#ishida uryuu#Kurosaki Ichigo#random knights#for anyone curious#the 'shot down' comment thrown at uryuu is directly related to how his mother died#so yes they're also implying that his mother was magicless#and that all he's good for is dying like his commoner mother#(despite the fact that she was a decently high ranked pegasus rider#in FE terms she was a falcon knight#)#and yeah she had magic too
32 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
karmonysan
KARMA TV
submissive-bangtan
caro 🐯
aauenee
aauene+e
lifeofyellowpearl
Life of Yellow Pearl
allyssaleola
dream more. complain less.