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z-iridest · 2 months

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My Hero Academia- I am Phoenix

Chapter 18- Test of Heroes:

"All right, that's it for class today." Aizawa told us a couple days later. "There's only one week left until your final exams begin. I'm sure you all studying constantly, right?" I mean, I am, but I don't know about everyone else. I thought. "Don't forget to keep training. The written exam is only one element. There's also the practical portion to worry about. Good luck." With that, our teacher left the room.

"I'VE BARELY TAKEN NOTES THIS SEMESTER!" Mina and Kaminari exclaimed, Kaminari in horror and Mina laughing.

"And with the Sports Festival and the internship, I didn't have time to read the textbook!" Kaminari added in a panic. On the midterm, those two placed the lowest at 20th and 21st specially.

"It's true that we haven't had much free time lately..." Tokoyami trailed off, having placed 15th, just outside the bottom five.

"We'd barely learned anything when we took our midterms, so they didn't seem all that hard, but I'm kinda worried about these." Sato was telling Koda, both placing 13th and 12th respectively. "We've been through a lot, and they probably won't pull any punches when it comes to testing us."

"As someone ranked in the top ten, I'm not that concerned." Mineta bragged. Much as I hate to admit it, he placed tenth.

"I still don't know how you managed that, you little shit." I glared at him. I'd placed second behind Momo, but I still didn't know how Mineta of all people managed the top ten.

"WHAT?! YOU WERE TENTH IN THE MIDTERMS?!" They both yelled in shock.

"Aw man, and I thought you were one of us." Mina whined.

"Don't you know weirdo little creeps like you are only likeable if they're kind of stupid?! Who's gonna love you now?!" Kaminari added. I mean, I'm not convinced he's not an idiot...

"Everyone, trust me." Mineta replied. See?

"Ashido, Kaminari! We've still got time to study! That way we'll all get to go to the training camp together, right?" Ever the optimist, Izuku encouraged both our classmates. Having placed in 5th himself in the midterms, he had a right to be. Iida, who placed in third right below me, raised his hand as if taking an oath.

"Yes! As Class Rep, I have high hopes that we'll make UA proud!" Iida shouted.

"It's pretty hard to fail if you just pay attention in class, isn't it?" Todoroki asked, the Peppermint boy placing in sixth right behind Izuku.

"You're not wrong." I shrugged, but Kaminari acted like we wounded him.

"Why you gotta cut me down like that?!" He whined.

"Hey, don't worry about it, you two, I can catch you up to speed on the important topics if you want." Momo offered. I swear that woman's too much of a goddess for her own good...

"You're the best, Yaomomo!" Kaminari and Mina exclaimed. Since when has her nickname ever been Yaomomo? She instantly darkened, hanging her head.

"I'm afraid it won't be of any help when it comes to the practical, though..." She trailed off.

"I've been studying but... Could you help me out too? I'm having some trouble understanding quadratic functions." Kyoka had placed 8th, but approached our Yaomomo anyway.

"Really?"

"Tutor me, please! Classical Japanese is killing me!" Seto approached her next. He placed 18th on our midterms...

"Ah..."

"Is there room for one more?" Ojiro asked before Yaomomo could even have a chance to respond. "I'm afraid I'm falling behind a little." He placed 9th in the midterms.

"Pretty please!" They all begged her. She lit up again.

"This is wonderful!" She jumped out of her seat, pumping her arms in the air. "Yes! Let's do it!"

"All right!" They cheered.

"Okay, then. We can hold a study session at my residence over the weekend." Yaomomo went planning.

"Seriously?! I can't wait to see your fancy digs!" Mina squealed. As Yaomomo went on a tangent planning the study session, Todoroki approached me.

"Would you want to study together, Yagi?" He asked. I smiled.

"Sure, did you want to meet up somewhere?" I countered. He shrugged, signalling he didn't know. "Okay, well, there's this little café nearby Tatooine station if that's okay?" I asked. He nodded.

"Sounds good." He answered, making me smile.

"It's a plan then." I replied.

"You think I don't know enough?! Maybe I should be at the lessons into your skull!" We then heard Bakugo (4th place in the midterms) growling at Kirishima (who placed 16th). I sighed.

"I'm counting on it." Kirishima responded.

"Hah, everyone's panicking right now. But it won't do any good to cram this late in the game." Aoyama stated as Shouji- who came in 11th- walked over to him.

"Shouldn't you be more concerned? You didn't do very well in the midterms." He asked, pointing out that Aoyama came in 19th in the midterms.

"Are you talking about moi? I did just fine, thank you." Aoyama replied. At lunch, Izuku, Tsu, Toru, Ochaco, Iida, Todoroki and I sat together.

"I'm kinda scared about the practical. I have no idea what it's gonna be." Izuku said.

"Neither do I..." I trailed off.

"Hard to believe they'd give us anything too crazy." Iida answered, making me look at him.

"Considering those of us who weren't at recommendation level had to fight robots in the practical of the entrance exam, I beg to differ. For all we know, they could put us against our teachers." I brought up.

"Please don't jinx it, Hino." Ochaco and Toru begged me. I shrugged.

"I'm not, I'm just saying."

"Anyways, the written exam questions will all be stuff from class, so..." He took a bite of food. "I should be able to do those." At his words, Ochaco stiffened, probably remembering that she came in 14th during the entrance exam.

"Do you really think it's going be that simple?" She asked, sounding nervous.

"It's driving me nuts. I just wanna know what they'll have us doing." Izuku responded.

"It's a comprehensive test of everything we learned from this year." Toru replied, having placed 17th while Tsu had placed 7th.

"Yep, and that's about all we could get Mr. Aizawa to tell us." Tsu added.

"Okay, so then, it'll cover combat and rescue training. Oh, and basic training." Ochaco summed up.

"We can't just study-we have to stay in great physical shape-" Izuku's stomach suddenly hit the table as he got elbowed in the head. I instantly jumped out of my seat, glaring at the blond asshole who caused it, but got yanked back down by Todoroki.

"Oh, sorry, your head's so big that it's hard to miss." He cracked.

"Yours is bigger, should I put a burn mark on that big ass forehead of yours?!" I snapped.

"Hino!" Ochaco's tone was warning.

"He started it." I looked at her.

"You're from class 1-B. Um... Monoma, right? That really hu-"

"I heard you guys stumbled across the Hero Killer. Just like in the Sports Festival, Class 1-A isn't happy unless they're the center of attention." Monoma was really starting to tick me off.

"Maybe if you'd actually brought your A-game, you would have had the spotlight in the Sports Festival, not my fault your battle IQ's at 20. Besides that, it wasn't like we were looking for the Hero Killer." I replied. I mean, one of us was, but the blond Wanna-B didn't need to know that.

"But you do realize you're not in the spotlight because people think you're good heroes, right? It's just that you keep getting into so much trouble. Here's food for thought: Some day, the rest of us might get caught up in your mess, and then we'll all become unwitting victims as well. What kind of horrible villains will you bring down upon us?"

"Can I burn him yet?" I mumbled with my teeth clenched.

"He's not worth it, Yagi." Todoroki told me, keeping a hand on my arm to keep me from jumping across the table.

"What demon-" He got cut off by a girl with an orange ponytail. She caught his lunch tray as he dropped to the floor, Kairi standing over him.

"That's not funny, Monoma!" Kairi chided him.

"You heard what happened to Iida, chill out!" Kendo told him.

"Kendo." Iida spoke her name.

"I apologize for him... I'm pretty sure he has a hole where his heart should be." Kendo apologized. I glanced at Monoma. And I'm pretty sure you knocked him out! I thought.

"So, we were listening... We know you're all worried about what's going to be on the big final practical." Kendo brought up.

"We heard it's gonna be combat against robots like the entrance exam." Kairi tilted her head slightly.

"Huh?!" Ochaco and I both cried out.

"What? Really? How do you know that?" Izuku asked.

"One of my friends who's a few grades up filled me in. I know, cheating but... Oh well." Kendo answered. While the others were talking, Kairi noticed the fact that Todoroki still had his hand on my arm and looked at me, smirking. I looked away from her, hiding the fact that my face was burning.

"What kind of idiot are you, Kendo?" As Izuku was rambling, Monoma woke up. "You just have away our whole strategic advantage! This was our chance to finally pull ahead of that class full of idiots!" He got splashed with water courtesy of Kairi's quirk.

"You're the idiot!" She exclaimed just as Kendo chopped him again.

"Right, they're not the idiots!" Kendo told him before she dragged him away.

"Good luck on exams, guys!" Kairi beamed, hoping onto one foot as she waved goodbye. As I watched her walk away, I noticed Tetsutetsu join her and sling an arm around her, making her lean her head on his shoulder. Awwww, how cute! I thought.

"ALRIGHT!" Mina and Kaminari exclaimed a while later after we told everyone else the news Kendo had given us.

"This'll be super easy if it's just robots!" Kaminari added.

"Such awesome news!" Mina exclaimed.

"Why do you sound so happy?" Shouji asked. "You both have a hard time controlling your Quirks."

"Yeah, but I can let loose with robots!" Kaminari pumped his fists. Why do I feel like my earlier statement's gonna end up jinxing us? I thought as Mina did the same thing as Kaminari.

"Now you just need Yayorozu to help you study and you'll be all set for finals." Sero was pointing out.

"We'll definitely be able to go to the training camp now!" Kaminari and Mina cheered.

"It shouldn't matter if it's robots or actual people. Why are you morons so excited?" Bakugo growled out.

"Hey, who're you calling a moron?!" Kaminari yelled.

"Shut up!" Katsuki roared, making Kaminari shrink. "You need to learn how to control your Quirk! Ya got it?!" He then turned to Izuku. "Hey! Deku!" The intensity got so thick you could cut it with a knife. "I don't know what's goin' on with your power, but I saw the way you're using it now and I want you to know... It's seriously pissing me off."

"Uh oh... He must mean how Deku was flying around like him the other day..." Ochaco trailed off worriedly.

"Oh, yeah, totally..." Mina realized.

"We'll be getting individual scores in the upcoming finals. New rankings. So we'll all know exactly where we're standing! I'll show you how much better I am." He then turned his gaze on our red and white haired classmate. "And Todoroki? I'll kill you, too." Todoroki didn't respond, and Bakugo turned his eyes on me.

"I'm not holding back." I replied before he could say anything... He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I rolled my eyes.

"It's been a while since I've seen him that worked up." Kirishima commented after a minute.

"Think it's impatience? Or hatred?" Tokoyami asked.

"Hatred? He wants to be the best at everything, so that's how he acts. He's just being competitive." I answered, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the side of my desk. With Izuku, it was different though... Ochaco was right, there was a rivalry there, though it seemed one sided. He did seem to hate me just as much as Izuku in the past, but... It didn't have as much bite to it as it did before the Sports Festival if that makes any sense... Anyway, for the next week, I studied and trained on my own and when the weekend finally came, I met up with Todoroki to do our own study group. I had dressed casually, just in jeans, a T-shirt and combat boots with my hair in a low ponytail pulled over my left shoulder. When I arrived, I was a little early, so I just ordered a drink and decided to study a bit on my own while I waited for Todoroki. But, much as I tried, I couldn't focus. The nightmare was happening every night now. I messed with the necklace around my neck as I sat back in my seat, taking my glasses off for a second to pinch the bridge of my nose. You were meant to be just like me.... What the hell does that even mean? And who's voice was it? The more the nightmare kept happening, the more the other voice took over my own until it was all I could hear...

"Yagi? Are you okay?" I looked up to see Todoroki had arrived. He had his school bag slung over his shoulder, and he was wearing gray pants, his usual light blue sneakers, and a navy blue button up that was left open the reveal the white shirt he had on underneath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I gave a small smile. "Just lost in thought for a second. I'm glad you made it okay." I answered him.

"The directions you gave were pretty detailed." He shrugged off his bag and sat down across from me before he noticed my drink. He looked confused, making me have to bite back a giggle.

"It's strawberry milk tea with strawberry boba, do you want one?" I asked. He looked at me for a second.

"I couldn't ask that..."

"You're not, I'm offering." I interrupted. He blinked for a couple more seconds before nodding. I smiled. "I'll be right back then." With that, I got up and ordered another one for Todoroki.

"Quite the cutie you got across from you." Jarsa, the barista that usually works when I come in, commented.

"Don't even, he's just a friend." I told her.

"Really? Because the way he looks at your reminds me of the way my husband used to look at me." She threw back. I felt my face burn, making her laugh as she gave me the milk tea for Todoroki. "You're not denying it."

"We're just friends, I'm not gonna get burnt again the way I got burned with... Well... You know..." I trailed off, rubbing the back of my neck.

"He doesn't give me the bad vibes that blood manipulator gave me." Jarsa was quick to reply. "Go on." She shooed me toward him again. I shook my head before I rejoined Todoroki.

"Here you go." I gave it to him.

"Thank you." He replied. I watched him as he looked at the way it was sealed, looked at the straw, then looked at me for help. A few giggles left me before I motioned for him to give it back to me. Once he did, I showed him how to unwrap the straw and to stab it through the top before giving it back to him. I watched him stare at the cup for a few seconds before I giggled, muffling it with my hand.

"Go ahead, try it." I encouraged him. Once he took a drink, I put my glasses back on and went back to studying. After a few minutes of silence between us, I heard him speak again.

"Have you always had glasses?" I looked at him to find him staring at me.

"Yeah, I wear them in class all the time." I answered. Had he not noticed this whole time? Then again, he was pretty oblivious so far, so...

"You look pretty with glasses..." He looked away. "Actually, you always look pretty..." Did this guy know what he was doing to me?! I looked at my notebook.

"Thank you." I murmured, feeling him stare at me.

"Are you all right? Your face is really red." I felt him out a hand on my forehead. "Your forehead's really hot..."

"Yeah, I'm fine." I managed to get out, trying to get a hold of myself. I could practically hear the giggle fit coming from behind the counter. Oh my god, kill me now... Once I got a hold of myself, the study session actually went pretty well. Todoroki was definitely smart, logical, and he could solve problems as soon as he saw them. Kinda made me wonder why he'd invited me to study with him in the first place... He probably could have done all the studying on his own in a much quicker time frame. It honestly did help since he knew how to solve the problems I wasn't sure of, and I even helped him figure out the answers to a few things when he wasn't sure. Once I got home, I trained, using everything I'd learned. I suddenly wondered how Kirishima and Bakugo's study group was going, snickering as I imagined Bakugo hitting Kirishima in the head with a rolled up newspaper everytime the redhead got an answer wrong. They probably even got kicked out of the place they were studying because of Bakugo's explosive temper...

You were meant to be just like me. I got startled out of my thoughts by that same voice again, except this time, I wasn't dreaming. I looked around. No one else was there, and I was home, so I would have definitely heard something if someone had entered... I decided to call it for the day, going inside with a shudder. The next day, the exams started. It felt like all the written exams passed in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it... "All right, put your pencils down." Day 3 of the exams had arrived. The last person in each row, bring the answer sheets to me." Mina and Kaminari were already out of their seats as Yaomomo collected our row's papers.

"Thanks so much for all your help!" Mina exclaimed gratefully.

"I didn't leave anything blank at least!" Kaminari added. That afternoon, we were brought to the Central Plaza training area after we were dressed in our costumes, only to find ourselves lined up across from all our teachers.

"Now then, let's begin the last test." Mr. Aizawa began. "Remember, it's possible to fail this final. If you wanna go to camp, but make any stupid mistakes."

"Why are all of the teachers all here?" Kyoka asked.

"I expect many of you have gathered information and believe you have some idea of what you'll be faced with today." Mr Aizawa answered.

"We're fighting those big ol' metal robots!" Kaminari had the gall to open his fat mouth.

"Fireworks! S'mores! Here we come, camp!" Mina exclaimed.

"Actually, this year's tests..." Principal Nezu popped out of Mr. Aizawa's scarf. "... Will be completely different, for various reasons." What is it with our principal and our teacher's scarf?

"Principal Nezu!" Kyoka, Ojiro and Sero all exclaimed.

"You're changing things?" Yaomomo asked in disbelief.

"The tests now have a new focus." Principal Nezu was explaining while he climbed down from Mr. Aizawa. "There will be Hero work, of course. But also teamwork and combat between actual people." Oh no... "So, what does that mean for you? You students will be working together in pairs and your opponents will be one of our esteemed UA teachers! Isn't"t that fabulous!" I felt all the eyes of my friends looking at me. Looks like I jinxed it... Oops... Meanwhile, the rest of the class were wide eyed with shock.

"We're.... fighting the teachers?!" Ochaco questioned.

"Additionally, your partners and opponents have already been chosen. They were determined at my discretion based on various factors, including fighting style, grades and interpersonal relationships. First off, Yayorozu, Yagi, and Todoroki are a team.... Against me." I glanced at Ochaco, seeing her look at me. I'm pretty sure my nerves were all over my face since she gave me a sympathetic look. "Then, we have Midoriya paired with Bakugo." They both were as shocked as I was, looking at each other, but our teacher wasn't done. "And their opponent is..." That's when Dad showed up and my eyes went wide.

"I am here to fight!" Dad exclaimed as he stood upright. I looked at Izuku, nervous for him. It wouldn't have been a problem for me to go against my Dad, considering I knew the exact time limit he was on and his weaknesses. Thinking about it, that's probably why Mr. Aizawa didn't put me against my own Dad, but to put Dad's number one fanboy and successor against him with the kid that hated said successor... This wasn't good...

"We're up against All Might?!" They both exclaimed at the same time.

"You're going to have to work together, boys, if you want to win!" Dad told the two. One glare from Bakugo directed at Izuku told me he wasn't going to listen, though. Dad chuckled.

"And now, let's announce the teams and teachers they'll be fighting in order." Principal Nezu announced. First up would be Sato and Kirishima against Cementoss, Tsu and Tokoyami against Ectoplasm, Iida and Ojiro against Power Loader, me, Todoroki and Yaomomo against Mr. Aizawa, Aoyama and Ochaco against Thirteen, Mina and Kaminari against Principal Nezu, Kyoka and Koda against Present Mic, Toru and Shoji against Snipe, Mineta and Sero against Midnight and finally Izuku and Bakugo against my Dad. Oh great, that fight's gonna be last? "To complete the exam, you'll have 30 minutes. In order to win, your objective is to put these handcuffs on your teacher. Or, you can win if one of you manages to escape from the combat stage." Principal Nezu explained.

"So, we've either got to capture the teacher or run away. It's basically like the combat training." Kaminari summed up.

"Yeah, but is it really okay to just jet?" Mina asked.

"Yup." Principal Nezu answered her.

"It's going to be much different than that combat training you all went through earlier. After all, you're up against people way better than you!"

"Better? Really?" Kyoka mumbled under her breath. "Wait, aren't you just the announcer?"

"Hey, watch your mouth, girl- Have some respect!" Present Mic answered.

"This time, your exam will be very similar to a real battle. As strange as it is, please think of us as villains." Thirteen told us, though her words only made me picture my Dad as a villain that towered over everyone and was too strong for any hero to fight. The thought honestly made me shudder.

"Assumin' you come across your enemy, if you think you can win against them, then fight. However..."

"In instances where you're outmatched, it would be smarter to run away and find help. Todoroki, Iida, Midoriya, Yagi. I'm sure the four of you understand." Mr. Aizawa finished Snipe's thought.

"I won't make that mistake again. I will pass this test and prove that I'm a hero!" Iida exclaimed.

"So, we fight to win.... Or run to win." Izuku murmured.

"That's right! It's a test of your decision-making skills. But with these rules, you're probably thinking your only real choice is to flee. That's why the support course made these super clever accessories for us." Dad held up some kind of... metal bracelet?

"Behold! Ultra-compressed weights!" Present Mic told us.

"These babies will add about half our body weight to our physiques. It's not much, but they will eat up our stamina and make it harder for us to move around." Dad explained. I mean, in your case, you're adding double your body weight since you have four while the rest have two... I thought, just as Dad grunted. "Oh shoot... These are heavier than I thought! We had a contest to come up with these designs, and Young Hatsume ended up winning it." The girl with pink hair and goggles that was zipping across the second obstacle during the sports festival? I thought.

"You think we need a handicap to win against you?" Bakugo growled. "Well think again."

"You seriously think you can take All Might without it?" I countered. Dad just laughed.

"This'll be fun." Dad replied.

"Let's begin. The teams will take the practical exams in the order you were called. We have a stage prepared for you. Sato, Kirishima, you're up."

"Yes, sir!" They exclaimed before the teachers filed into the building.

"Those waiting their turn to fight can either watch the exams or strategize together as a team. It's your choice. That's all." Mr. Aizawa told us before following the other teachers.

"Ojiro, I'd like to discuss how we might be able to coordinate the use of our Quirks." Iida was the first one to speak.

"Great." Ojiro replied.

"Tokoyami? Let's go come up with a plan." Tsu replied.

"Agreed." Tokoyami replied while they went inside together.

"We've got to figure out a way to destroy Miss Midnight's costume!" Mineta exclaimed.

"You are such a little scumbag." Sero mumbled as he followed Mineta inside.

"Come on, Momo, let's come up with a plan." I told her before looking at Todoroki. "You coming?" I asked him. He looked at me before walking away. I sighed. "He already has a plan." I shook my head. Knowing him, it would be having us make a run for the gate while he holds off Mr. Aizawa.

"Then my plan won't work..." Momo answered. I looked at her.

"Hey, not every plan works, we should still strategize just in case his doesn't pan out. Knowing Mr. Aizawa, I don't think the plan Todoroki has in mind will work." I told her. She looked unsure, but nodded, going with me into one of the waiting rooms. But, not even two minutes after we had sat down to talk, the buzzer went off.

"Sato and Kirishima have been knocked out! Exam over!" The automated system announced.

"Seriously?!" I asked, looking up.

"That was fast." Yaomomo commented.

"Yeah, too fast... Looks like the match will be harder than we thought, I'm glad we agreed to strategize about this together." I told her. "What's the idea you have?" I asked after a second. She looked away from me. "Hey, don't close up on me. Please?" I tried again to get her to answer, but to no avail. "Momo, we're a team..."

"Team Tokoyami and Asui have passed the final!" The announcement came. Momo stood up.

"So Tokoyami and Asui have passed their exam... I'm not surprised." She finally spoke, leaving the room with me right behind her.

"Team Ojiro and Iida have passed the final!" The automated system announced the end of Iida and Ojiro's match just as we arrived to our arena. We met up with Todoroki.

"It's our turn now. Let's go." Todoroki told us. Momo was still holding back, and she looked unsure of herself again.

"Yaomomo." I called her by her nickname, which snapped her out of it.

"What's wrong, are you nervous?" Todoroki asked her.

"Oh... No."

"It's okay... With our opponent, I don't blame you." Todoroki, she just said she's not nervous! I thought, but Todoroki wasn't done. "Don't worry, I have a plan in mind for us."

"Todoroki, don't you think we should..." Before I could say anything more, I was cut off by the buzzer.

"Team Todoroki, Yagi and Yayorozu. Practical Exam. Ready. Go." The announcement went over the speakers. Shit, so much for hashing it out... As we ran, Todoroki told us his plan. "Yayorozu, listen, I want you to keep making small objects. When you stop being able to, it means Mr. Aizawa's close by." I knew it...

"Or at least we're within his line of sight... Todoroki, we should have-" I added, once again trying to get Todoroki to listen.

"Our success will depend on which one of us finds the other first. Once we spot him, I'll draw him to me. Then, you two can run to the escape gate and win this thing for us. Just stay close to me until then." Aaand once again, my protest fell on dead ears. This is oddly familiar... Momo opened her mouth to say something, drawing my attention to her. She does have a plan, I knew it! I thought. Todoroki noticed our focused had changed and spoke again. "C'mon, hurry up and start making things." She looked down.

"Sure... No problem..." Momo replied. No, no, you have to tell him your plan, Yaomomo, come on! I wanted to scream at Todoroki for not listening to her, but Yaomomo wouldn't speak up for herself either. As we continued to run, Yaomomo created Russian dolls, small and easy to store away. I will admit one thing, seeing Todoroki's look of utter confusion was hilarious.

"Um... I guess those work okay, but what are they?" He asked.

"Oh, these things? They're just Russian nesting dolls." Momo answered.

"Right... Let me know if either of you notice your Quirks acting strangely at all." Todoroki activated his ice side before continuing to run. I noticed Yaomomo hesitate.

"Yaomomo, if you have a plan, voice it. The only way we're going to pass is if we communicate with each other." I told her. She shook her head.

"It won't work... Come on, we gotta catch up to Todoroki." She told me before hurrying after our teammate, making the Russian dolls as she went. I sighed, following after her as I activated my fire on one hand, at the ready for a fight. "I'd expect nothing less from you, Todoroki."

"What'd you mean?" He asked.

"You were able to come up with a plan to use against Mr. Aizawa so quickly. You knew exactly what was best as soon as we started." It's not the best plan...

"This is nothing." Todoroki waved off her compliment. Yaomomo stopped.

"No... You're wrong." Todoroki and I both stopped to face her. "As students who got into UA through recommendations, you and I started from the same place, Todoroki. But, in terms of the practical skills that a hero needs, I haven't really managed to do anything that stands out. During the Calvary battle, I just followed your orders, and then when it was my turn to fight, I failed before I could do anything..." That was when I noticed that my flames had stopped burning and the dolls were stopped.

"Yaomomo, the dolls!" I pointed out.

"He's coming!" Todoroki realized.

"I'm sorry!" Yaomomo apologized.

"If you know I'm here, then you should be acting." Aizawa spoke from above us. Todoroki and I turned as he dropped down from the telephone wires. "I would suggest that you prioritize evasion since I've taken your powers from you."

"Yayorozu, Yagi, go!" Todoroki attacked Mr. Aizawa.

"Would you pull your head out, there's gotta be another way! We need to regroup and actually talk about this like we should have before the rest even started!" I flared up in anger as Yaomomo ran for it, trying to get him to listen to me.

"Don't argue, just go!" He yelled back. I grit my teeth.

"Todoroki, listen to me-"

"I can handle this myself, Yagi! I don't need your help!" Todoroki shot at me, interrupting me. I stepped back a bit, his words stinging me a bit. Did he really believe that? That I wasn't strong enough to handle this? After everything? "Yagi, go!" He shouted again. I ran after Yaomomo. If Todoroki wouldn't listen, maybe I could get her to listen... I lost track of her after a minute, and despite it being risky, I jumped into the air to look for her with a bird's eye view. I saw Todoroki get captured before I spotted Yaomomo going the opposite way of the escape gate.

"What is she doing?" I asked myself before flying toward her, landing in front of her and getting her to a shadowed area in one movement. She was panting on a panic attack and looked extremely out of it. "Yaomomo, can you hear me?" I asked her. She nodded as Mr. Aizawa passed where we were hiding. "Name five things you can see." I told her. She gave me a weird look. "Just do it."

"The sky, the street, the wall, you and my nesting dolls." She seemed a bit calmer as she answered.

"Name four things you can feel."

"Your hands on my shoulders, my heart racing against my chest, the ground below me and the wall behind me." She was continuing to calm down more.

"Good. Three things you can hear."

"Your voice, my own, and Mr Aizawa looking for us close by."

"We're out of his line of sight for the moment, we're fine. Two things you can smell."

"My sweat and... Hino, are you wearing perfume?"

"Yeah, I didn't go for too strong of a smell. One thing you can taste."

"My spit?" She was back to herself now.

"Gross, but it counts." I smiled back. "Now that we have a second, we can regroup."

"How are we supposed to get Todoroki back?!" She whisper-shrieked.

"Simple, I cause a distraction by shooting my flames away from the direction we're going to go. When Mr. Aizawa's back is turned, I use my wings to get us both back to Todoroki so you can tell us your plan. We'd be well out of eyeshot before he realizes what's happening."

"You're that fast?" She asked.

"Were you paying attention during the Sports Festival?" I countered.

"Besides, I doubt my plan will work." And we were back to the lack of self confidence.

"Well, I don't have a plan besides getting past Mr. Aizawa to get Icy Hot's dumb butt out of capture, so it's either we try yours or we fail this." I pointed out. She blinked.

"Hang on, did you just use Bakugo's nickname for Todoroki?" She asked.

"That's not important right now, do you think you can tell Todoroki and I your plan if I get us to him?" I asked. She stared at me, looking unsure for a minute before nodding, the look on her eyes changing. I smiled. I shot some fire out from where we were, which landed in the alley across from us just as Aizawa was passing by us for another patrol. Just as he turned to look where it landed, I shot into the air with Yaomomo in my hands. I flew as fast as I could, using my fire at my feet to go faster. That dumbass half and half... I wanted to smack him so hard for the comment he made. I knew he only said it to get me to run, but it still hurt... Besides, part of being a team was relying on each other. This wasn't like the Hero Killer, Mr. Aizawa knew what our Quirks were as well as our limits. He should have talked his plan over with us before all this...

"Todoroki!" Yaomomo and I both called to him as I landed, the two of us running toward him.

"Yaoyorozu! Yagi!" He looked so surprised, I wanted to laugh, but remembered I was mad at him.

"I'm sorry I came back! I couldn't-"

"Hey, watch it! Mr Aizawa's coming!" Once again, Todoroki interrupted her, but it was to warn us that Mr Aizawa caught up to us.

"So much for the distraction I caused..." I mumbled before noticing Yaomomo was starting to panic again. But, before I could say anything, Todoroki spoke up.

"Yayorozu, you've got a plan, don't you? I'm sorry to bother of you, I should have asked before and not told either of you what to do! But, you have an idea, right?"

"Your plan didn't work, so there's no way mine will be any good. All of us are gonna fail."

"That's not true." I put in.

"Spit it out already! I'm saying that you're the one who's the better at this kind of stuff, not me!" She looked up at him. "When we were voting for class rep, you had two votes, remember?! One of those votes was mine, because I thought you would be the best at leading our class!" I could see that his words really struck her, but before she could say anything, Mr. Aizawa jumped into the air above us.

"Giving up?" He asked.

"Not yet!" Yaomomo cried out. "Todoroki, Yagi, close your eyes!" She tossed them up into the air, Mr. Aizawa looking confused.

"What are these?" He asked, kicking one open midair. I realized the same that the doll opened what she had actually been making and shit my eyes, turning away for a second as the flash bangs exploded, blinding our teacher. "Flash grenades?" I heard him question.

"You're right! I have an idea. A plan for us to win!" Yaomomo told Todoroki as she let Todoroki down carefully. "This final exam isn't over." We both stood by him as the binds around him loosened, freeing him. "We can still beat Mr. Aizawa!" Just then, our teacher recovered.

"So, you've got a strategy."

"Yes, I've been thinking about it from the beginning. His weakness."

"Just tell us what to do, Yaomomo." I told her before Mr. Aizawa moved to a higher vantage point. We all knew that because of Mr. Aizawa's injuries from the USJ attack, he couldn't use his Quirk for as long as he used to, and he had to rest more between erasures.

"Guys, watch it!" I warned as we all jumped back, avoiding Mr. Aizawa. Todoroki went to use his fire, but Mr. Aizawa used his quirk and erased it.

"Yagi, Todoroki, we have to hide together!" All three of us ran, and I was honestly glad to have our rhythm back on track. "Since he was injured, his Quirk has become unstable!" Yaomomo was pointing out the very weakness that I had been thinking about just a second ago.

"Because of what happened at the USJ?" Todoroki asked.

"We're going to exploit that." I added.

"Not yet. For now, we just need to get out of his field of vision. It's all a matter of timing. We're going to pass this final!"

"That's our Vice President." I grinned.

"Timing? How is getting out of his line of sight gonna help us with that?" Todoroki questioned. "He can still take our Quirks whenever he sees us.

"Just do as I tell you." Yaomomo replied as he turned a corner. "Keep checking to see if you can use your ice power, okay?"

"Not fast enough, kids!" Mr. Aizawa shouted, his scarf heading toward me.

"He's wrong to think he'll be able to keep our Quirks erased the whole time. There will definitely be a single moment... A brief interval when Mr. Aizawa blinks before he can use his Quirk again!" Todoroki's ice power kicked in a second later. "And I'll be counting on you in that moment to attack like you did in the Sports Festival! A giant ice wall!" He used his ice power to create just what Yaomomo was looking for.

"I blocked him with the wall the moment my Quirk came back. We can use our powers again." As Todoroki activated his flame side to counteract the frost that has started on his right side, I noticed Yaomomo moving the sides of her shirt, and I immediately put my wings up to give her privacy. Considering how much shorter I was, I was barely covering her, and I looked away to give her more privacy as her Quirk activated. "So, can you tell me the rest of your plan now?" That was when he turned. Considering the top of my wing only came to just above her chest, it was probably a weird sight to see me standing with my wings out and covering Yaomomo who had her shirt open while I was looking away. Todoroki looked away, sounding hilariously strained as he spoke again. "Is that Aizawa's scarf you're making?" He asked.

"It is. I don't know the material it's made of or precisely how it's constructed, so it's not exactly the same. But, I created my own version with a special material woven into it. Since this is a residential area, we must keep the collateral damage to a minimum. And he moves his own restraining bonds so quickly, it makes it difficult to catch him. So, you see, here is my plan..." After she explained it, it made total sense, and I honestly knew it would work better than Todoroki's plan had. "What'd you think, Todoroki?" She asked our teammate as we looked at the catapult she had made a long with the scarf. "I believe this has the highest chance of success. Or at least... It's better than trying to run." She sighed softly. "We'll only get one chance." She looked at him. "So, is this all right with you?" She asked. I nodded.

"Let's make it count." I replied before looking at Todoroki. He nodded.

"Yeah, no complaints here." He replied before we put cloaks over ourselves and ran the opposite way that Mr. Aizawa was. "Hey, Yagi... I wanted to say to you... I'm sorry for what I said earlier." I looked at him as we ran. "I wanted you to run during my plan, and I realize that I must have hurt you with what I said by focusing on trying to keep you and Yayorozu out of harm's way."

"I know you were doing what you thought was the best thing, Todoroki. Now, let's pass this final." I smiled at him, showing him that I forgave him. Just then, Aizawa took our bait, the cloaks being ripped off us, revealing the mannequins the three of us had been carrying. Yaomomo went to hit the latch, but missed it by a hair. I saw panic cover her face again. "Stay on target, Yaomomo!" I encouraged her, hitting it with her as Mr. Aizawa jumped back, giving us the opportunity to recover. "Todoroki, let's light it up!" I called to him, both us us using our flames before Mr. Aizawa could have a chance to react. Since Mr. Aizawa was in the air, we both aimed at the lowest part of the scarf Yaomomo had made.

"I'm not sure we would have a chance of beating you in a full battle, Mr. Aizawa, but that's okay! Tell me something: Have you heard of nitinol alloy? When heated, it returns to its original shape in an instant. It's a metal with shape memory!" The scarf tightened around Mr. Aizawa with the combined heat of mine and Todoroki's flames that same instant, capturing our teacher. We put the cuffs on him once Aizawa landed.

"I told you it would work, Yaomomo." I gently nudged her.

"It went exactly according to your plan. It was almost a little too smooth." Todoroki piped up.

"Honestly, it shouldn't have worked out... When I was about to trigger the catapult, I made a big mistake. Mr. Aizawa noticed, but still jumped away, even though he could have stopped me easily. I think he allowed himself to be captured by my plan on purpose."

"I was just trying to see what Todoroki would do. Yagi and you were both in my sights, but he still has a cloth over him, remember? I thought he's try to freeze me. So, I decided it would be best for me to back off. In doing so, it looks like I ended up playing right into your hands." Mr. Aizawa revealed to us.

"It really was just a matter of timing like you said, huh? Thanks, teammate." Todoroki thanked her.

"Exactly." I smiled at her. She started tearing up again, probably realizing what we had been trying to tell her the whole time. She covered her mouth.

"What's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Todoroki was instantly worried.

"No, it's nothing, really!" Yaomomo replied.

"If you feel nauseous, there's a pressure point you can press to-"

"No, I told you, I'm fine." Yaomomo interrupted him as the buzzer sounded.

"Team Todoroki, Yagi and Yayorozu have passed the final exam!" The announcement came, and I felt a sense of relief washing over me. Our test was finally over...

(Taglist: @iheartbarbie @qweenexplosionmurder13

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#cannon x oc #mha #hinotori yagi #dadmight #i am phoenix

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seventfics · 4 years

Note

Love your writing. Prompt: Jaskier has abandonment issues, which he tries and fails to hide. Angsty shenanigans ensue

[Thank you! ☺️ I normally don’t do prompt requests but this is right up my alley of emotional suffering, so,]—x

So it’s true that Jaskier has everything anyone could ever want in life. He was born into comfort, held status and name, and had the fortune of education, though that last one was beaten into him mercilessly because he was not an easy child. He had it all—

He still has it all, if he wants it. Nothing stops him from returning to teach in Oxenfurt. No one will deny him his family title, of properties or inheritance. On the contrary, he’s earned even more renown by his lyrics and poetry and Continental ballads, his name known to every court and tavern. People flock to him for his tales of the White Wolf—and that too is part of his renown, for he turned the Butcher into a hero at no cost of his own but a few sore throats after eveningfuls of encores—

They invite him for festivals, banquets, courtly affairs. They propose to him, bed him, threaten him out of towns for having bed the wrong person. He is famous. He is the bard Jaskier. And when his fame and his charm are no longer a novelty, people are quick to move on.

In Lettenhove, in his early years, there was a tutor who praised him for his sharp musical ear. The old man spent many hours of the day showing him the value of the arts, something that left an imprint in his very soul. Not a year later, his parents sent him to temple school to learn his letters. He never saw the old tutor again—

In Oxenfurt, there was a girl who loved him for his voice. She was beautiful and sweet, her laughter like winter bells. By Summer’s end, she found a painter who worshipped at her feet like a dutiful priest at the altar of the gods. He doesn’t remember her name—

There were many like that girl since, and every time, he learned to accommodate a little better to keep them longer, to no avail—

In Posada, there was a witcher who huffed and groused at his company, and yet allowed him to come along on his journey. He was kind in a guarded way, a way familiar to Jaskier—the echoes of someone who has given himself up many times, only to suffer loss and rejection. Heartbreak hangs about him like a cape. And it takes Jaskier some time but he accommodates, learning the witcher’s limits, his preferences, what’s a jest and what’s a jab at old wounds—

“What’s this, you’re going to hunt the drowners now?”

The witcher is packing his bags neatly by the door. He offers a brief nod. “It’s early. They’ll be sluggish.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll come with.”

He’s given a strange look that says nothing of the sort will be happening. “No you’re not, bard. You’ll get yourself killed.”

Jaskier takes the threat of life in stride. “I’ll hang back, I swear, who wouldn’t want to see the great White Wolf in action!”

Sometimes the witcher huffs, indulging him. Other times, dreadful times, he orders him to stay put. So Jaskier waits in taverns, sitting on his hands. It’s the hardest thing for him to do. To wait. He does not sing, not while his gut twists and his fingers flutter nervously on wood. He simply waits and thinks about all the reasons why his company is but a burden on coin and travel, the witcher so used to traveling alone.

And every time Geralt comes barreling through the front door wet with gore, his mind and his chest empty of all aches.

“Oh thank the gods, you’re—still in one piece,” he says, because shouting you’re back, you’re alive, you didn’t die and leave me behind is far too much of a weight to throw on Geralt’s shoulders, he knows.

Geralt merely grunts, shaking off some of the grime. “Of course I am.”

It’s like that. The witcher leaves on a hunt, and on the times Jaskier cannot follow, he waits. Geralt always comes back—if not for him, then at least for the reward. It’s at the end of every crossway where they part face to face, never knowing if they’ll meet again.

And Jaskier continues his own journey, in search not of home, but its opposite. Of a place that will forever change to the years and the seasons and never bore him. Never bore of him. No one should know him any more than he is allowed to know another, except—

Except the witcher Geralt of Rivia who he meets again and again. Knowing him more with every meeting—

—A noise in the forest, distant, and Geralt gets up with his swords from camp.

Jaskier just fumbles, “You’re not just going to leave me here twiddling my thumbs in the dark, are you?”

“I’ll be right back, bard. I have to check—”

—A shared room on low coin, and never a problem between them. Jaskier stirs awake to the bed moving.

“Sum’thing up? Y’have to go?” He tries to mumble through a dry mouth. Geralt nudges his head down.

“No, I just need to eat. You keep sleeping, Jaskier—”

—A storm, and they’re both holed in a damp cave. Geralt looks ready to throw himself out in the rain and hunt for the Kikimore queen anyway.

“Geralt, please don’t leave in—in this storm.”

Geralt does listen, perhaps because he sounds a bit more shaken than usual. They’ve already gone low on provisions because the rain soaked through their bags. They need the coin. And it would have been fine, if Jaskier hadn’t insisted they go through this town—

Foolishly, dangerously, he becomes attached. Years go by. A decade. Two. There is no one else Jaskier knows more in his life. Geralt’s mannerisms, his expressions, his disquiet. He knows them all in the silence across a campfire, and he hopes he is known in return.

He hoped at the banquet in Cintra, barely whispering of a need that he dared not tell anyone else.

He hoped in the chaos of Rinde, of the djinn and the witch, begging for the witcher to choose him first.

And he hoped in the mountains of King Niedamir.

And his hope is not enough.

Jaskier knows to bear smiles and jokes for the right crowds, and he knows how to be serious in certain company. He learned to accommodate a little better to keep people longer, of course, to no avail. Even with Geralt—

He should never have grown complacent, believing that things would be different this once. He became attached—beyond attached, beyond need, beyond affection—

“I'll go get the rest of the story from the others,” Jaskier says in parting on that mountain, because if he makes light of it, then it will sluice off his frame like water, undamaging. He can pick himself up to keep searching for that place—of that someone that will never bore of him, that will never forget him and throw him aside.

Despite his efforts, there’s a chasm in his chest. A breathlessness like a wound that doesn’t want to heal. And he lingers at the foot of the mountain when he sees Roach nibbling on dry grass, tethered by the inn’s poor stable poles.

He doesn’t know how long he stays with her, petting her coat. She indulges him, preferring his company over the stablehand’s. There’s a joke there somewhere, about her being as obstinate as her rider, but he can’t bear to say it. Can’t bear to speak through the stone lodged in his throat—

And he shouldn’t be with her, not if he wants to avoid the witcher who so clearly and plainly told him to take off for good. But Roach is sweet. For once, she doesn’t bite his wrists. Instead she nickers, snuffling his dusty doublet. Maybe she’s learned to accommodate for heartbreak too, as it seems to follow where Geralt goes, whether caused by his hand or brought upon him—

“Jaskier.”

He freezes in place. He cannot turn. To see his blazing expression would be too much—

“Sorry. I won’t be staying. I’m just,” his voice fades as it starts to shake. How can he explain why he’s touching the witcher’s mare, for the simple comfort that she offers in not shying away from his touch?

“Jaskier.”

It is a demand for him to turn. He recognizes it in Geralt’s voice. Jaskier clenches his hands on Roach’s mane—

Refusing doesn’t work, as the witcher takes his shoulder to pull him back—

There are no fixed smiles left in him. No jest, no shrug. He hurts too deeply to put forth the effort. He is the bard Jaskier, but in front of Geralt of Rivia, he’s just alone. He has everything anyone could ever want in life, and not a lick of it matters with no one to stay for him, no one to call a friend—

But Geralt is not angry. He doesn’t quite look like anything except intense, keeping his wide yellow eyes on Jaskier’s own as he grips his shoulder tight.

“Let me go,” Jaskier says because he cannot take being seen so deeply, so closely, and not being wanted—

“No.” Geralt’s grip turns painful. “You—don’t want me to.”

Something breaks in him at the words—the truth in them—and it burns in his eyes and it burns his throat—and burns to tears shed pressed to black leather, his hands scrambling at the hard surface of Geralt’s armor.

He doesn’t want to be let go. Geralt holds him to his chest and he feels like stone cracking under pressure. Like gravel being crushed—

“I was angry,” the witcher says, swallowing against Jaskier’s ear, “I didn’t mean it,” tucking his face into Jaskier’s hair, “I don’t want you to go.”

And maybe it’s cruel or greedy but he wants for Geralt to ache like he does. To feel terror at being left behind. At it being Jaskier who walked away—hurting, choked by his own surging feelings—from the mountain first, by his offense—

Another part is relieved. Because Geralt does know him, after everything, after Jaskier’s efforts to know the witcher. He knows him well to strike where it hurts the most. He knew where to tear into with harsh words—

And that by doing so he went too far and tore into Jaskier’s heart too—

There are no apologies, but there are amends. There is a wavering conversation and one more stay at the inn.

At the crossroads they’ll part again, but not with goodbye. Not with tears or screams or hidden fears. They’ll meet again, like they always have. Better than they always have—

Because this time, and every time since, they part with a promise to see each other again.

#reply #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #abandonment (:#prompt #did i go full into post ep6 fix-it? y eh #1k

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aspiringauthorintraining · 4 years

Text

The Shoe Thief

“Bo-chan, mind letting me go?”

“Why don’t you love meee?” he whined in your ear.

The Fukordani and Nekoma boys were taking a short break from having finished a practice match, and Kotaro Bokuto was currently holding you hostage in his arms. He clung to your back, preventing you from leaving the gym.

You looked to Akaashi for help, but he only gave you a look of pity in return.

To the Fukurodani team, namely Akaashi, you were a godsend.

You didn’t have any plans of joining a club in high school at first, not really having interest in any of the clubs offered at the academy. So for the first year, you focused solely on your studies. Not that you really needed to, already being in the top class for your grade.

And it wasn’t until finals rolled around, that you met Bokuto. Or rather, Bokuto came looking for you.

You had overheard conversations in passing of a boy on the volleyball team that was in the top five ranking for spikers under 19. But that was the extent of your knowledge of the said Fukurodani “Ace”. You weren’t in the same class as him, nor were you in the same social circles. With you occupied with studying and him with volleyball, it made sense that the two of you had never met before.

But fate had other plans, it seemed.

It was a requirement that all students in clubs needed to have a passing grade in all their subjects, in order to be able to participate in club activities. And you had found out, from Bokuto telling you himself, that he was on the brink of failing. Although, it made sense once you realized how much the boy was obsessed with volleyball.

He had asked you one day if you could help him in some of his subjects, making a dramatic monologue about how everyone was counting on him, and how he would just be devastated if he weren’t able to participate in the Spring High Nationals for the first time. He had also brought back-up in case you had said no at first, in the form of the rest of the volleyball team. And you, not having the heart to say to no a pleading group of boys, especially the upperclassmen begging you on their knees with Bokuto, agreed to weekly tutor sessions in the gym after their practice.

What you thought would be a one-time deal, somehow ended up turning into study group sessions with the rest of the volleyball team. Apparently Bokuto had told his team how nice you were when tutoring him, that some of the other boys who were also struggling in their studies, stayed back after practice one day, to shyly ask you for help.

Kaori and Yukie, seeing how well you handled the boys, especially Bokuto, had asked you to join the team; you having no choice but to say yes after Bokuto kept pestering you about it for a whole week.

By the time you all became third-years, it was safe to say that you were Bokuto’s manager more than the Fukurodani’s volleyball club manager. Your main job was to handle Bokuto, to the joy of the coaches, managers, and the rest of the team.

Therefore, when Bokuto got clingy with you, it meant that he wasn’t bothering Akaashi or going into emo-mode. Which was why Akaashi and the others could only give you a pitying look, but not do anything else. Better you than them.

“Bokuto, I need to go help prepare for dinner with the rest of the managers.”

“Whhhyyy?”

His chin was perched on your left shoulder, his head moving around from all the whining he was doing.

“Because I’m a manager, duh.”

“But whyyyyy?”

Shaking your head, you struggled to pry his arms off of you- damn his volleyball muscles. Quickly realizing that you wouldn’t be able to break free with your strength, you were about to give up. But when he thought you were done trying, he loosened his hold on you just a bit. And as soon as he did, you ducked out of his embrace, making a run for it. Thankfully both your indoor and outdoor shoes today were slide sandals, making it easy for you to change shoes in record time. You didn’t dare look back, knowing time was of the essence, and Bokuto was quickly nearing you.

“Sorry Bo-chan!”

“Hey hey hey!” you heard him whine as you dashed out the door.

__________________________

“Bokuto, where did you hide my shoes?”

“What makes you think I hid them?”

Bokuto continued feigning innocence, refusing to admit to being the shoe thief.

Five minutes ago, you along with the other managers were heading outside to start preparing for dinner again. While all the other managers were changing into their shoes, you realized yours were missing. And when the other girls noticed you were looking around for them, Yachi mentioned that she saw a certain Fukurodani captain holding said shoes while laughing to himself during their break.

So while you weren’t one to accuse anyone of anything without substantial evidence, Yachi’s witness testimony was more than enough for you to confront Bokuto about your missing shoes.

“Bokuto, someone saw you holding my shoes before they went missing.”

“Who told you that?” His eyes went wide, realizing he had been caught in the act.

“My source will remain anonymous.” You were pretty sure that Yachi didn’t want to be brought into the mess. “And don’t try to change the subject! Bokuto, I need my shoes- I’m the only one not helping with dinner right now.”

Knowing there was no way of denying he was the perpetrator now, Bokuto then decided to avoid eye contact with you.

You could only heave a sigh at the boy, who was pouting at the ground.

“Bo-chan.” you called out to him.

“That’s not fair (Y/N).”

“Bo-chan~” you tried again, knowing he was weak against your nickname for him.

“Must resist.” he murmured to himself, now just closing his eyes.

You walked up to him, grabbing ahold of his cheeks in the palms of your hands, bringing his face down to your height. He flinched, opening his eyes in surprise at the sudden contact- not realizing you were so close to him. You couldn’t help but giggle at how he rubbed his face against your hands happily, his face melting into a content smile.

People liked to say that Bokuto looked like an owl, but you always compared him to a puppy with the way he acted towards you.

“Bo-chan, I promise I will give you all my attention and as many hugs as you want once the training camp is over.”

“Really?!”

You nodded. “Yup. I’ll be stuck to you like velcro. And you’ll end up being sick of me and my hugs for a while.”

“That’ll never happen. I’ll always want your hugs!” He refuted, not even fathoming the idea of ever getting sick of you or your touch.

You smiled at his declaration, giving him a quick peck on his lips. He seemed to short-circuit at your kiss: blushing, stuttering, and smiling sheepishly, all at once.

“But I really do have to go help, so could I please have my shoes back?” you asked, looking softly into his eyes.

Bokuto seemed to contemplate the choices given to him for a second, before answering.

Don’t give back your shoes and hold you hostage in his arms now, or return your shoes back to you and get as many hugs he wants in the future. Deciding the latter was the better choice in the long run, he then happily led you over to the bleachers where they were hidden under.

“Here you go!” he brightly smiled, placing your shoes in your waiting hands.

You shook your head with a laugh, amused at his puppy-like antics. You couldn’t even be mad at him if you tried.

“Thanks Bo-chan.” you said, throwing him a wink before heading outside.

________________________

Bonus:

You watched Bokuto worriedly with an unconscious frown from the sideline.

He was blocked for the fifth time in a row, preventing him from successfully slamming down one of his famous spikes.

Everyone on the team could see the frustration manifest on his face, which was understandable. It was stressful for a wing spiker to not be able to do what their position entailed.

Akaashi signaled to the coach for a timeout, the usual drill for the team when Bokuto started showing symptoms of his emo-phase. And following the sound of the whistle blown would normally be the Fukurodani captain dramatically ordering his setter to not pass to him anymore. But instead of sulking like always, Bokuto stopped right in front of you with expectant eyes.

Keeping good on your promise to him, without hesitation you opened your arms, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. You let him keep hugging you, as the team talked strategies about how to get through the blockers.

“Akaashi…” you heard him mumble quietly from your shoulder.

“Hai, Bokuto-san.” The vice captain replied.

“One more time.” Akaashi’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by the captain’s words. “Toss me the ball one more time. I’ll break through.”

Raising his head up from your shoulder, Bokuto’s eyes showed determination in them. Unlike the usual pout on his face, in its place was a confident grin.

“Hai.” Akaashi nodded, then quickly explained the plan to the rest of the team.

The referee blew the whistle again, signaling the end of Fukurodani’s time out.

“I got this.” Bokuto assured you, reluctantly stepping out of your hug.

“I never had any doubt that you did Bo-chan.” you replied, smiling at his reappeared confidence. “Go show them what it means to be a top five spiker.”

_____

(A/N): Aaahhh, I hope you liked it! I didn’t know Bokuto day was 2 days ago. So I know it’s late celebrating, but better late than never! Safe readings!

#Haikyu!!#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagine #kōtarō bokuto #bokuto #bokuto imagine #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #fukurodani #fukurodani x reader #fukurodani imagine

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kenjikutie · 4 years

Text

in which kageyama is a stubbon jerk

you realize that kageyama is bad at managing both his time and his grades

[ bird watching masterlist ]

—{*}—

- a few days in to your new manager position, you had quickly begun to see why kiyoko and yachi needed another set of hands

- these boys were some of the craziest, most volleyball obsessed people you had ever met and you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing

- however, there was one member of the team that you were specifically worried about

- kageyama tobio seems to have a very hard time with prioritizing and it doesn’t look like volleyball is leaving the number one spot anytime soon

- while you could admire his dedication, you were worried about his grades slipping while his volleyball skills increased

- the team had a training camp in miyagi coming up soon and if the boys didn’t have their grades up in time, they weren’t going to be allowed to go

- kiyoko had pulled you aside and asked if you could tutor kageyama since yachi was handling hinata

- “uhh, okay, but is he gonna listen to me? does he even leave the gym?”

- kiyoko broke a small smile and set her hand on your shoulder, “he might if you remind him that he won’t get to play volleyball without your help.”

- while the rest of the team put away the equipment, you called kageyama over to you and could see the nerves bouncing around him

- “relax, kageyama, you aren’t in trouble.”, you laughed at how tense he was and at the flush on his cheeks

- “i-i wasn’t thinking that! what do you want anyway?”

- you explained his predicament and could see all light leave his eyes after you mentioned him not attending the training camp

- kageyama had zoned out after you said no volleyball and he quickly grabbed a hold of your shoulders

- “teach me, please! i can’t not go and let stupid tsukishima and hinata get better than me! teach me!”

- “okay, okay! chill bakageyama!”

- the two of you scheduled a study session for the next day after practice and you arrived at the library before him, figuring he had just gone to get a yogurt

- but, when more minutes started to pass by, you could feel yourself getting more and more annoyed

- when the clock struck over two hours past the scheduled time, you huffed and took your back over your shoulder, storming out into the hallway

- opening the door to leave, you were surprised when kageyama was standing right in front of it, panting heavily

- you raised a brow and glared down at him, watching as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly

- “uhh, h-hinata and i got distracted with passes and i... uh-“

- “do you wanna pass your class or not kageyama?”

- his eyes widened and he nodded his head sharply, “y-yes!”

- “then take a break from volleyball every now and then. i know you love it, but it’s not worth getting poor grades for and being held back another year.”

- you could see the gears turning in his head, “but if i get held back, i get to play more volley-“

- “oh my god! you are so stubborn! this isn’t gonna work.”

- before you could take a step past him, kageyama tugged at your wrist, avoiding eye contact with you

- you had never seen him so embarrassed and guilty and suddenly, you regretted what you had said to him

- “listen, kage-“

- “you’re right. i have to take a break sometimes. but please, please don’t give up on me! i will be on time tomorrow, i swear! and if im not, you can hit me with a spike!”

- quickly releasing your wrist, kageyama looked up at you, begging for your help, and you relented without hesitation

- lets just say, you didn’t have to spike a ball at kageyama ever again

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #karasuno #karasuno x reader #karasuno manager #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama imagines #kageyama #kageyama tobio x reader #tobio x reader #tobio kageyama #tobio kageyama x reader #bird watching

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jamielea81 · 4 years

Text

When We Were Young

Chapter 1

Description: Leaving the only home your daughter had ever known wasn’t part of the grand plan. But then again, sometimes taking chances can change your whole life. And you should know that, you’ve been doing that since the start.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, maybe a curse word or two.

Word Count: 2,271

A/N: Super nervous about this one. As always, this is strictly for fun as I know nothing about the personal life of Chris Evans. This series takes place in 2018.

*Italics are internal thoughts*

This is it. This…is…it. Okay, deep breath. Plaster on that smile.

“We’re almost there,” you sing-songed.

“Mom…” your daughter Ellie groaned.

Turning your head to the side, your co-pilot was currently nose deep in a book.

Better than her phone.

She’s a great kid and you really couldn’t complain. At fifteen you were pulling away from your parents as were most of your friends. It had been the two of you for so long that you were closer than ever. She didn’t keep secrets from you and you didn’t keep any from her. That had been your deal for years.

“I’m hoping we beat the moving truck there. Would hate to pay them to sit around,” you said eyeing the clock on the dash.

“It’s a moving truck and you don’t exactly have a light foot,” she replied, tucking in a bookmark and setting her book on her lap.

“What are you implying Ellington?” Smirk ever-present in your voice.

“It’s just that you tend to speed mother dear. When we were on the open roads in North Carolina that was one thing, but I don’t think you’ll get away with that in Boston.”

“Just wait until you start driving. You’re going to be worse than me!” you laughed. “But your probably right.”

“Don’t forget to sign me up for classes. You promised after the move you’d enroll me.”

“I know and I will. Let’s just get the school tour and the first few days of classes settled first. One step at a time,” you replied, giving her a soft smile.

Where did the time go?

“And are you ready?” she questioned.

“Ready for what?” you asked, small frown appearing on your lips.

“You’re new job. The new house. It’s an entirely different part of the country. It’s a lot,” Ellie sighed out. “Even I know that and I’m the one that wanted this change.” She placed her hand over your right hand that held the steering wheel.

“I’m ready.” You nodded your head because you really were. “This is for you, baby. But a little part of this is for me too. Change is good,” you said shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what they say right?” You gave her a questioning look which she chuckled at.

“Absolutely, mom,” Ellie agreed.

Despite your concern, the two of you made it to the townhome before the movers. The car was unloaded and food ordered before they even pulled up.

All of your furniture had survived the move, but now that you had it in the house, the beach vibe really wasn’t matching with the old brick row home. If your savings weren’t mostly depleted, you’d consider purchasing a new living room and dining room set. Only one box of miscellaneous knickknacks was damaged beyond repair from the move up the coast. According to your daughter, it was just an excuse to go shopping.

Ellie was tucked away in her new room organizing her clothes, promising she’d actually go to sleep in the next thirty minutes. It was a big day for her and you as she would tour her new school. The school specializing in engineering was the reason you were here. While Ellie didn’t inherit the social awkwardness you experienced in junior high and most of high school, she was also incredible smart. How your beautiful daughter turned out so well rounded only being raised by you was a bit of a mystery, but you thanked your lucky stars every night.

When Ellie came to you ten months ago with a glittery pink folder filled with the school’s brochure, a list of courses she planned to take, a breakdown of tuition cost, nearby neighborhoods, and a recommendation for one of her teachers, you knew she was serious. She had been talking about Harvard since she was nine years old when her school had a special speaker that had mentioned graduating from the esteemed university. She reminded you that when she did start her college career there, because she knew she’d get in, it would be a lot easier on you if you lived locally. Sometimes she was too smart for her own good.

Reaching out to a of couple old NYU classmate who lived in Boston was the easy part. Getting your small two-bedroom bungalow solid was the tough part. The house sat on the market for two months without so much as a nibble. The two of you got to work painting every room, replacing light fixtures, baseboards, and outlets. It paid off in the end as your house was in escrow a month later.

While you liked having a detached home, it wasn’t in the budget in Boston or in any of the surrounding suburbs. Your old classmate Hillary, who was happy to reconnect really steered you toward a row home. After searching Google for months, you found a rental in the town of Belmont that was conveniently located near Ellie’s high school. And just like that, you were saying goodbye to the only town she had ever known.

Wine. You needed wine if you were going to stop worrying and get some sleep yourself. If only you could find a wine glass. Digging through the one of three boxes labeled “dishes”, you gave up your search when you came up empty after the first box.

“A coffee cup will do.”

Filling the mug three quarters of the way full, you headed back to the couch, resting your feet up on the cushions and thought about how your lives were going to change. Ellie was excited for a new city and school, but you were sure she also held onto some anxiety on the inside as she tended to do.

When you were three months pregnant, you moved to Wilmington North Carolina with your college classmate Peter who was nice enough to offer you a place to stay. You certainly couldn’t go home to Kentucky. Not when you were pregnant and single. Not that you wanted to anyway. Wilmington is where you built your life for the last sixteen years and you missed it already.

You grew up in a very structured home. Middle child to wealthy parents who weren’t shy about how much they had. They had goals for you and for the most part, you obeyed. Piano lessons, cello lessons, dance, although, that one ended shortly after you started. Private schools, tutors, math camp, really anything that would help you succeed. You did well in school because you worked hard. Not that you had a choice really. College and then back home to work for your father’s company. No doubt they had a short list of potential husbands handpicked for you by your sixteenth birthday. You’d be engaged by twenty four, married, by twenty five, first child by twenty seven. It wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted to plan out the rest of your life, not have it planned out for you. Having a child on your own terms was very much a part of your plans.

Leaving work early after only two weeks at Hayward Financial was not on your calendar for the day. Two appointments with new clients had to be canceled with new ones set up for the following week. Receiving a call from Middlebury Engineering Academy that your daughter missed third and fourth period was most certainly not a call you expected to get. She loved school. Always had perfect attendance except for that one year where she got very sick with the flu and had to miss three days. Missing class was more painful to Ellie than the illness itself. Maybe you missed something. Maybe she wasn’t as happy as she seemed. She already had a small group of friends but maybe they weren’t good kids. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel.

“Where are you Ellington Rae?”

You had already called her cellphone three times and texted her twice as much but she wasn’t responding. Home was your first stop but she wasn’t there. The coffee shop was next. It was a favorite for the two of you, stopping there at least four days a week. Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen her. The pizza place, sandwich shop, frozen yogurt kiosk, library, that clothing boutique she had been begging you to take her to since her friend Carmen had mentioned it, all turned up empty. On the verge of tears, you pulled back into your driveway for the second time that day and called your best friend who not only felt a thousand miles away but actually was a thousand miles away in Wilmington. This was the hard part about moving somewhere new. You hadn’t met the neighbors, hadn’t introduced yourself to the parents of Ellie’s friends, barely knew her teachers. You had never felt more alone than you did at that moment.

“Gwen…” you said, voice barely holding on.

“What’s wrong? Shit. Give me a second, I’m going to step outside,” she said.

You got out of the car, walking up the stairs with the phone attached to your ear and your bag in your other hand. You pushed your shoulder up to hold the phone in place while you dug for the keys.

“Okay, tell me what’s going on.

“It was a mistake coming here,” you sobbed, dropping the keys on the kitchen island. “I miss Wilmington.”

“Oh babe. You love it there. You already told me you do,” she sighed.

“Not anymore. We’re coming home. I just need, um I just need to get out of my lease. We can stay with you right?”

“Always. But that’s not going to happen. Now tell me what’s bringing this panic on.”

“I can do this. Just act like you know what you’re doing,” Ellie said to herself, taking a big breath, straightening her shoulders, and walking out the door.

Leaving campus after second period was a lot easier than she thought it would be. Between the hustle and bustle of the hallway, watching the exits apparently wasn’t a thing teachers did. She walked three blocks from campus and ordered an Uber. The app was already on her phone from when her mom’s car got a flat and they decided to get lunch rather than sit around the repair shop. Her mom would be mad at her, but this was worth it and she would apologize for it later.

Her driver dropped her off in front of the booming convention center. She’d always wanted to go to one of these things, just never figured she’d be ditching school to do it. The building was massive with an impressive architectural roof. The engineer in her was beaming, but she wasn’t here for that. No, she was on a schedule. This was her one chance and she wasn’t going to blow it standing outside. Walking past the dozen or so smokers, she made her way inside the convention center, making a stop at the registration table to grab her credentials. While most attendees lined up early to be let in as soon as the doors were open, Ellie was not the average attendee.

Checking her phone for the time, she saw the dozen or so missed calls and texts. She was going to be in so much trouble when she got home and she honestly hated herself for making her mom worry. Ellie had an hour before she could line up for the one photograph she purchased months ago. Deciding to kill time in the vendor room seemed like the best option. Maybe she could buy something for you to make up for giving you wrinkles at an early age.

After browsing for some time, Ellie settled on two matching beaded bracelets in your favorite color for each of you. Maybe when you finally forgave her, you’d wear them and go to brunch like the two of you enjoyed doing back in Wilmington.

Combing her fingers through her hair for the fourth time, Ellie leaned to the side to check the length of the line once more. There were maybe twenty to twenty five people ahead of her, so she knew it would go fast. But if she had to hear how hot Chris Evans was one more time, she was going to scream. Ellie had rehearsed what she was going to say a million times in her head, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able verbalize the words. An opportunity like this wouldn’t happen again, at least not one this easily.

She was led into a room with two other girls not much older than herself. They were here together and couldn’t stop giggling. Chris said hello and both said hello in unison causing Ellie to sigh.

“How do you want to pose for the photo?” Chris asked.

“Could we both hug you?” one of the girls asked.

“Yeah, that would be okay,” Chris replied, giving them each a smile which only caused them to giggle more and Ellie to roll her eyes.

After the girls said goodbye, two more people were ushered in the room behind Ellie. The assistant urged her forward to a smiling Chris.

“Hi sweetheart. How would you like to pose for our photo?” Ellie gulped in reply. “Don’t be nervous. How about I just give you a side hug?”

Ellie nodded her head as Chris wrapped his arm around her waist. She turned her head to face him, seeing that he wasn’t looking at her, but at the camera.

“You’re my dad,” she exclaimed.

Chris whipped his head to the side to face her. “What?” he whispered.

“You’re my father.”

Chapter 2

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rokutouxei · 3 years

Text

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 6 OF 22

Take hands. There is no love now. But there are hands.

- Laura Riding Jackson, "Take Hands".

When she first started hanging out with Theo and Arthur, Theo had left with her one piece of advice—one very, very important piece of advice: “If you’ll only ever listen to one thing I say, let it be this one: do not owe Arthur a favor, ever.”

Of course, in the usual Theo fashion, he did not give her any sort of context about it, no explanation as to how he had come to that very grave conclusion. Except that he knew he was right. And she was going to ask, but after hearing Arthur’s triumphant laughter at having overheard that—well, maybe the mystery was a little more than worth it.

And just like that, she had tucked that advice off at the back of her mind.

So now, she’s in the bookshop again, 2:00 pm on a Sunday, holding Arthur by the hand asking him a favor.

“Please, please, please, pretty please Arthur?” she begs, shaking his hand side to side as she goes. It is the midterm season now, and leaving your fellow students on their own isn’t really a thing in this university. Where possible, everyone is gathering to have group studies and teaching sessions. She figures Arthur could afford her one. Or seven. “You’ve taken his class, haven’t you? The infamous worst professor of the College of Arts.”

Of course, Arthur has. If he’s going to kind-of-not-really minor in Literature, the way he’ll do it is the way he loves the best: the hardest, most challenging way. Of course, that means he got the toughest classes out of the way first.

“Hardly the worst, love,” he says, with a mock-flip of non-existent long hair. “I’d say that fancy fake British accent woman teaching poetry is much worse than that bloke, but that could only be because I couldn’t stand what she was doing to the syllables.”

“Yeah, sure but—that’s not the point,” she says. “Look, I need a recommendation letter from this grumpy, wrinkled banana of a professor, and I’m not getting it unless I pass his exam. But you know how his exams are, he teaches you the English alphabet and then quizzes you in Spanish kind of exams, I just need to prepare properly and—well,” Dazai’s face flashes before her eyes, “you’re the most reliable one I could ask for? Please?”

Arthur lets out a small overdramatic sigh that’s really entirely theatrics. She knows better. “Here’s to me rescuing your sorry little ass, little miss. I’ll help you, but I have two conditions.”

“Yay!” she claps her hands excitedly and grins. “Yes, any! Give me!”

“First, you’ll owe me one favor.”

“Yes, sure, got you,” she nods.

(From the counter, she hears Theo murmur: “You have made the worst mistake of your entire life,” but she ignores it.)

“And—you’ll bring my old chap Theo.”

“What?”

She and Theo both look up at the same time.

And answer at the same time.

“What?” “Wait, wait, why is he coming?”

Arthur laughs. “Are you both so against it?”

“No, I’m just—curious?” she hesitates. “Does he even want to go?”

Theo and Arthur take a moment to glare at each other, which at this point you already know is the equivalent of them doing a high five or a handshake—it’s pretty much harmless.

Arthur’s flat smile turns into a big grin. He sing-songs: “Theo~”

“I can’t owe you a favor for asking you to shut up,” Theo says.

But Arthur is brimming with confidence when he says, “Well, no, it was a favor to me, so you’ll need to respect it.”

And Theo knows that resisting Arthur just spells trouble, so he settles for glaring even sharper, larger daggers into Arthur’s face, but does not argue: “Klootzak.”

And the Brit grins. “That’s why you shouldn’t try and owe me anything, old chap.”

She blinks and wonders what is going on.

Of course, work in the bookshop doesn’t end, and there are more and more customers looking for supplementary readings (or even distractions) so Theo and Arthur only get to join her after the shop closes at 5:00 pm. She’s announced that she’ll be studying every day at the Little Owl, the café Vincent works in, and Arthur had gleefully agreed to follow instead of having her move places. Besides, Arthur insists he cannot work without the taste of the coffee the cute barista (“not Vincent,” Arthur promises Theo) makes for him. Theo sighs, longing for the quiet and Arthur-lessness of the College of Business’ library, but decides to follow through with his promise.

Theo was alone at the bookshop today—Monday, Arthur’s day off—and so only follows suit to her and Arthur at the café once his shift ends. Vincent’s shift at the café ends an hour earlier than Theo’s at the bookstore, so the two brothers just miss narrowly miss each other. Which is a good thing, because even if Vincent already knows, he would be a little bit horrified if Vincent saw him headed to the two rascals already there. Is this who his brother thinks he hangs out with? No, Vincent, they are the exception, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to argue with his brother during work.

“Why hello there, dear slave of capitalism,” Arthur greets happily. He’s wearing the glasses he wears when “he’s taking the world seriously,” the one Theo asked him to wear more often, for god’s sake.

Theo shakes his head. “We are slaves to the same bookshop, Arthur.”

“A really good bookshop!” she pipes up, looking up from her little studying set-up just as she finishes writing something down. In front of her, she has an old book borrowed from the library laid out on a book stand, a standing pencil case with all sorts of markers and pens, a notebook, and a little notepad to scribble on. Then, she points at Arthur with her pen. “I know you said don’t owe Arthur favors, but this doesn’t seem to be that bad an idea.”

“It will eventually be,” he says nonchalantly. “Well, don’t let me interrupt in your studying?”

“He’s actually done tutoring me for today,” she says, “so we can actually study on our own now.”

“But together,” Arthur insists. “That was my condition. Also, are you not forgetting something, little bird?”

Theo blinks. She pauses and then gasps. “Oh right! Right!”

She pulls out a lunchbox.

This isn’t entirely surprising on its own, because the two of them had decided to work for a good amount of time, and it might be cheaper to bring your own food than buy over and over again at the counter, even if it’s just a cookie or two. It’s midterms season so the café allows outside food, if for the sanity of its usual customers.

Except.

“I brought these for you, Theo.”

For Theo? But it’s nearly dinnertime, and he won’t be here for long…

Theo cautiously takes the lunchbox but doesn’t open it.

“This isn’t poisoned, is it?” he asks—jokingly.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Oh, if I wanted to off you, Theo, there are better ways. Open it up, won’t you?”

And Theo does; pops open the little container to peer at what’s inside, and—

The lunchbox has pancakes inside.

Not full-sized pancakes, but small ones the size of poached eggs, fluffy and golden. Theo flushes.

“A little angel told me you liked them,” she says, grinning at his expression.

Theo realizes how transparent he has been about it and glares at Arthur in response. Arthur looks as remorseless as ever to his misery, but—does not claim the act with a smirk or a holler.

But the surprise isn’t over yet, because then she takes out of her bag the smallest commercially-available bottle of his favorite brand of syrup, giving it to Theo. And with a smirk in her voice, she says, “Can’t have pancakes without this, no?”

Theo’s ears are aflame , a deep red. Of course his own brother would betray him. Always looking out for him in the best of ways and then betraying him in the most expected of ones.

Theo takes the pancakes with a gruff Thank you that seems to be enough for her, and then the three of them return to their studying. Not that he does it entirely well that day, because has trouble focusing on his studies at all thinking of how delicious the pancakes she’s brought him actually are.

They study together the rest of the week.

It rains on Tuesday, and the café is more crowded than usual. For the first of three hours they spend there, it is only her and Theo, heads turned low into their thick books. Arthur arrives late because he said he had to take a detour for a “sweet skirt” from the medical department. Theo asks if it’s one of his professors he’s trying to talk into giving him a passing grade for his piss-poor efforts. Arthur does not deny. They pick up dinner at a local convenience store before heading their separate ways home on their respective bikes.

It is still raining on the evening of Wednesday, and Arthur and Theo have to run (without umbrellas, because—well, because they’re idiots) the distance from the bookshop to the café where she is waiting, jumping in between eaves and doing their best not to end up too drenched. Not that it works out that well, because she still looks at them pitifully before ordering the both of them coffee for their little misery. They dry off pretty well though, but they don’t get to stay too long because she insists they go home and actually dry off properly before they get sick.

Arthur finally takes their little study session a little seriously for himself on Thursday. Their usual spot—her favorite spot, mind you—is occupied when they arrive, so they’re camped out at a long table, she and Arthur sitting side by side and Theo across the both of them. Theo’s brought bound books for the past few days, but today he has sheaves of papers (readings, perhaps) and a leather-bound notebook (“That’s when you know he’s down for srs bsns,” Arthur says, and she asks how the hell he was able to say it like it was type-speak in real life). Arthur’s no different, with his thoroughly annotated medical anatomy books sitting in front of him, glasses on his nose.

But Theo… Theo is so distracting.

When they decide to study separately—that is, when Arthur isn’t clarifying a particularly complicated concept or Theo isn’t helping her out by quizzing her—the three of them work side by side in comfortable silence, all working with an earpiece or two on to at least dull the sound of the rest of the café working in their own little worlds. So this isn’t exactly odd; they’ve been doing this since Monday, after all, and if she were to be honest, she’d enjoy it if they did this a little more often in the future, if possible.

So then why… is she so distracted?

Why does she keep looking up from the poem she’s turning upside down with annotations and notes and markings to see if she can sneak a discreet glance at Theo, his eyes trained on the things he is studying? Why does she keep looking hoping she can stare at least a few more seconds at the unusual side of him, none of the crease marks on his forehead when he’s being rude or sarcastic, just concentration, deep blue eyes not straying from the pages through the rim of his glasses. And oh—Theo with glasses is such a sight! She’s not interested in him in that way—no—but by god, does he look different with glasses. Maybe she’s just gotten so used to Arthur with glasses that it doesn’t strike much in her, but Theo—

“Stop staring at me,” Theo huffs, looking up at her and meeting her gaze. His bangs are pulled to the side where he’d brushed them off, the back end of his hair standing a little cutely upwards because he was fiddling with the nape of his neck earlier with his pen, and—well.

It’s hard to not be blown away when he looks like that.

“Oh shit, sorry,” she says, snapping out of it with a shake of her head. Getting caught is such a rookie mistake! “I was zoning out.”

Arthur chuckles next to her. She and Theo pretend not to have heard him.

On Friday, she and Arthur decide to go have a little quizzing session to prepare her for the oral part of her exams. (“Hehe, oral.” “Shut the fuck up won’t you, Arthur?”) They get Theo to work with them as the scorekeeper. She gets a good percentage of the questions right (80%) but she still does not feel confident enough about it. She turns back to work on her laptop with Theo sipping coffee by her side as Arthur leaves to go on a dinner date with said sweet skirt from Monday. Theo repeats the joke, and this time Arthur says, “And what if it is?” They do not know if he is joking, at this point.

When their usual time to go has struck, Theo closes the book in front of him and stretches a little, bending his neck side to side. She turns to him and frowns.

“Look, I know I asked you yesterday we could do the book club today but… can we just skip it to next week instead? I’m really fried after today.”

“That’s fine,” he says, but then pauses. “You work too hard. I didn’t really expect to do it today.” He sips from his already-cold mug of coffee.

“Hey, I actually wanted to do it, alright? I just—I’m writing a short paper on 19th century literature right now” she answers. “For my portfolio. I’m submitting it as an extra right after the exam, and I want it done so I can focus on studying for the exam afterward.”

So that’s why she’s been typing away on her laptop with not much pause after Arthur left. “Portfolio?” he narrows his eyes. “Applying for something?”

“Yeah, the OSR’s scholarship.”

“The international one.”

“Yeah, that one,” she confirms. “I’ve been waiting for a bit for them to reveal the requirements and… I don’t know, it feels like it gets longer and more strict every year. I’m trying to up my chances by having a strong portfolio.”

“I see.” Theo pauses, takes in the disappointment still apparent on her face, and sighs. “Look, if you still want to do the book club—we can do it while we walk home.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he nods. “So if you’re tired, then pack up and let’s go. Schiet op.”

“Geez, just give me a sec!”

By the time she and Theo make their way out of the café, the sun is long out of the sky, the street lit in a beautiful shade of warm yellow from the streetlamps. The both of them live roughly in the same area of town—at the southeast residential side, but pretty close to the center, where the café is—but their houses are still around 20 minutes apart by foot. There is, however, the main boulevard that connects their ways home up until a certain point, so they decide to make the most of it by walking the 30 minutes up to that fork in the road even if she did technically have her bike with her.

“Okay, so, book talk, huh?” she says, digging into her bag to find the Kerouac he’d lent her. His copy of On the Road had weathered down rather beautifully over the years; the paper a shade of yellow just right for the eyes, no mottling of the pages, and despite the red matter cover being dog-eared and slightly faded, it’s the kind that’s endearing—the kind a book gets after being held well while being read, and then being kept away so lovingly. With the book in her hands now, she looks near hesitant to even part with the book at all. “Kerouac… was one hell of a read.”

He takes the book she hands back and thumbs it carefully. “What do you think about it?”

“I actually don’t know where to begin,” she says, staring off at the road beyond them. “The contrast of them going to these vast empty places to fill something deep in them...” She sighs, a happy sigh coming out of her. By this point, Theo already knows the kind of face she makes when she’s remembering the hours she spent reading the book—the expression she has right now betrayed that. “And then they were always—well, as with the title I guess—I felt like they were always on the road, even if not literally, then within them?”

Theo nods. “Always going somewhere unknown.”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s not like they were not established right, just that… there were so many possibilities you know? They were talking about crossing America and going from here to there and they seemed to… change with every landscape they went in. And it was exactly all those possibilities that were so fun. You definitely hit that request of mine, because I’m 100% sure all that going away made me want to go away again.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s kinda sad though, that things won’t be as mysterious as back then.” She waves her hand. “What with social media and all.”

“The insight that comes with travel is different now that the world is more connected to one another.”

“And the connection is so accessible!” she notes “Like, one of us can go away but it’s not the end of the world? We can still talk if we wanted to, there are so many ways to do it. And that’s great, but now… now when you go away it doesn’t feel as spiritual an experience? I mean, you can easily Google what a place looks like and…”

Theo turns to her after she abruptly stops. “And what?”

A beat. Two. She hasn’t stopped walking, with her eyes facing in front of her, but her eyebrows are narrowed like she’s carefully choosing how to put what she’s thinking into words. Theo patiently waits throughout the full minute it takes her to speak. “…Do you ever feel like you’re only a visitor in a certain place? Or maybe even anywhere. Like you’re only meant to be there for a few days, a month, maybe a year, but—never in the long term, never for the rest of your life.”

That… isn’t what he was expecting.

But then again, he doesn’t really know what to expect with her around, at this point.

Things are always more than with her.

For a moment, Theo ponders. Sure, he’s had instances feeling uncomfortable in the places he’s in, or maybe acknowledging that there are better places to be—such as when he left their hometown to go here, to follow his brother—but he hasn’t really thought about the rest of it. He’s always imagined the tides would just bring him to places, and he wouldn’t have to work hard to be brought elsewhere; to just let himself be washed ashore to new islands.

“I’m not sure,” he answers, thumbing the side of On the Road once more. He wonders what it was like during Kerouac’s generation—dreaming of a spiritual journey, going out there and exploring the unknown, how so much was left to be learned. How will his generation be remembered? What difference will they make, will they go down in history?

She nods simply. “It’s okay, I’m just the kind of person who likes to think about all this. Sal’s changing views on Dean was… I don’t know how to put it, it’s just like being in a different place, having a different experience with people changes the way you see about them, even if that place is… geographically, and not like a situation. Does that make sense?”

“You have to admit, most of the book doesn’t make sense,” Theo notes.

“…I did hear Kerouac wrote a good portion of it pretty high.”

“Maybe it’ll make sense when you read it high, too.”

They grin at each other, and Theo turns to get the Neruda book out from his bag.

“I’m so close to memorizing the content of this book, with how many times I read it,” he admits, passing the volume over to her. They touch fingers for only the briefest of moments. “Neruda has an interesting way with words.”

She nods. “I still feel bad that I don’t get to read him in his original Spanish because I feel like that makes a difference. The translations are still pretty good though. Any poem you liked particularly?”

“Maybe I Remember You as You Were.”

“Oooh, that’s very romantic,” she says, flipping right to the page he was talking about. “Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.”

“Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul,” he continues. “The passion in some of his love poems get overwhelming sometimes. I remember You is just the right touch of romance and longing I like in a Neruda.”

“Hmm?” She turns to him curiously. “Mayhaps you’ve already been a Neruda fan from the start?”

“I’ve read him in the past, yes.”

That’s not that surprising, really, considering how much of a household name Pablo Neruda is to literary enthusiasts at this point. One of the more “modern” classics of poetry, arguably. She’s not satisfied with his answer, of course. “Which, pray tell, is your favorite?”

It takes him a moment, biting the inside of his cheek in thought. After a beat, he answers, “Don’t Go Far Off.”

“And you say you’re not a romantic,” she says while shaking her head.

“I am not a romantic.”

“Theo, I know the poem by heart. You can’t tell me that shit isn’t romantic.”

Every minute he spends with her, the more drops of confusion fall onto his mind about himself. And not the bad kind; simply, why is it that she can see him so differently compared to others? What is it about her that she catches what sneaks past others?

He wouldn’t call the poem romantic, but maybe if she says it…

No. Instead, he looks at her. Challenges her. “Prove it.”

“Okay, you start.”

He takes a deep breath before beginning. “Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because—”

“Because—I don’t know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you.” She doesn’t miss a beat when she answers.

He continues. “As in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

The way she traces the sounds of the syllables so delicately, like it would shatter if she wasn’t careful with their sound, isn’t missed by him. Does she read all poetry, all literature with this much adoration? “Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together.”

At this point, Theo is already nodding, very much impressed. “The smoke that roams looking for a home will drift—"

(And together, they say) “Into me, choking my lost heart.”

The two of them look at each other quietly, the poem’s imagery settling in the spaces between them.

In a way that makes them feel content.

He continues. “Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.”

“Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest.”

“Because in that moment you'll have gone so far.”

“I'll wander mazily,” she breathes, “over all the earth, asking—”

Theo sighs. “Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?”

With that, the two of them relish in the silence at the end of the poem, letting it all dissolve into the air like the puffs of smoke from their breath.

“Nice of you to know that start to finish,” Theo says, by way of compliment.

She makes a little mock-bow with her skirt. “Thank you. I also really like that poem as well, actually.”

For some minutes, the two of them share a companionable silence, the moon shining over them, casting a silver glow. It is only when the itch to ask the question becomes too much that Theo finally opens his mouth.

“Why are you so fixated on going away?” he asks.

She stares at him. “What?”

“You’re always talking about the out there and the going away. And now you’re planning to leave for a scholarship—when you get in,” he says. “Have a boner for it?”

She makes a face. “No, what the hell,” she says. “Is it so bad to want a little adventure when you live in such a small town like this?”

“Not really,” he hums. “You strike me as the kind of person who disappears from everyone because you’re chasing something far off into the unknown,” he says.

She opens her mouth, about to say something, before she takes a deep breath to hold it back in. Theo feels like he’s overstepped a boundary he shouldn’t have. But instead of talking back at him or refuting, she says, “That would be a great story for a small Literature major like me, huh?”

It’s a non-answer.

The one Theo knows means there’s a more complex answer—that she’s not just ready to tell him yet.

It’s alright.

He can wait.

A few more minutes pass, this time in comfortable silence. Theo considers small talk, about the bookstore, or Vincent and Arthur, but she looks so deep in thought he decides not too. Sooner than he would have liked, they reach the fork in the road. He stops and turns to her fully.

“Books?”

She blinks as if torn away from a daydream. “Oh right, books. Nearly forgot.”

The two of them pull out the books to exchange from their respective bags; she catches the title The Night Circus in the one he hands her, another dog-eared, well-loved, black book; and she also catches the twitch of his eyebrow in interest when she hands him Atwood’s Dearly.

They keep their books away and fall back into their usual quiet.

“You sure I don’t need to walk you home?”

“It’s a well-lit road. I’ll be fine,” she insists. “I can bike from here to there, it’ll take me three minutes tops.”

He nods, the smallest of smiles on his face. “I’ll see you around, then. I hope you enjoy the book."

This isn’t the first time Theo has lent her a book. And this isn’t the last time Theo will lend her a book, either—if there’s anything about their kind-of friendship she knows for sure, it’s that he’ll need to try harder to get rid of her if he doesn’t like the company.

But somehow, the arrival of the new book in her small, rented dorm room leaves her unbalanced. She knows she has better things to do like her essay for the portfolio and studying for the exam—80% correct for the oral test is pretty good, but not good enough—but she lets the book taunt her anyway.

It is Saturday now, and she places it on her desk with the cover facing up, black and red and white with an intricate illustration of figures. Is it because of the conversation they had last night? It wasn’t odd for their little book discussions to wander into personal territory, because it is true that the way we read books is very much influenced by the things we have experienced in real life, but that one… that felt different. Somehow, it’s as if the both of them had opened up a pandora’s box of—well, something, and all of that is nestled in between the pages of the lent book.

It wasn’t like her wanting to go away was a secret in any way, shape, or form. Friendship with Theo or not, she was meant to leave this place. Or at least, that what she likes to believe. She’s pretty sure she’s mentioned even in the past that this town is too small for her; too little; there is a wider world out there to discover. And it wasn’t like Theo being some sort of hidden romantic was a surprise either—she’s known from the moment he didn’t stop asking her for poetry books. Nothing new was really uncovered last night, but then…

Why can’t she seem to let it go?

Her eyes rest back to the book on her desk. She said she wouldn’t read it until after the oral exam on Tuesday at the very least, but—she has peered into it the night before as she was going to bed, and yet once more this morning.

She’s not sure what it is about yet, but it seems that he’s lent her some sort of fantasy-romance, because she had asked for a book with a magic system in it. (Thinking about the wonders of magic is a great stress-reliever in the midst of exams.) She had expected Theo to be a good level of well-read because he worked at the Hoard—but somehow, he was always blowing away her expectations. Theo is always saying about how weird she is for pursuing him, but isn’t he the weirder one? At least she shows no pretense of being any sort of normal. He does his best to look put together.

Did that big looming man look like the kind of person who would read a novel title The Night Circus?

Not really, not to her. But it’s because he is that kind of person that keeps her so hooked, so interesting. She doesn’t quite know what has happened yet, but—whatever it was that unlocked between the both of them last night, it can’t be that bad. So by 3:00pm, when she said she would be running through drills for her exam, she closes her laptop shut, makes herself some tea, and curls up into her armchair to read.

Just because they get along with each other doesn’t mean they agree with everything.

For example, she’s explained that she’s the kind of person who marathon-reads whatever she can get her hands on, if she finds it interesting enough. It’s not that she doesn’t have patience for reading; she does, and she thoroughly enjoys being lost in a good book. It’s just that she can’t do what the others do when they like a book—read it leisurely, enjoy it from page to page, taste every word like it’s sweet. She’s more of the kind who sits down at eight in the morning with a interesting book and being unable to stand until it’s done in the afternoon. There is no waiting in her vocabulary, only the going.

Oppositely, Theo likes to take his time with his books, the same way one would do a walk. Take the scenic route; enjoy the scenery, take in all the details with your sense. To Theo, reading a book is going into it, getting lost in between the world that is hiding in its pages, and there is no need to rush that. The book is not going anywhere, and he can always open it up and return to where he’d stopped. Theo rarely reads books in one go unless he’s in a rush to do it, like say in a required reading for a class.

So when he sends her a message on Sunday, saying,

[ 9:44 | Theo ] Good book choice this week. Had fun with it

less than 48 hours from the moment she had given him the book…

She yells.

Really loudly. Her next door neighbor pounds on the wall between them, and she shouts out a “sorry!” as she begins typing on her phone.

[ 9:43 ] You finished it already?

[ 9:44 | Theo ] Is that so surprising?

[ 9:44 ] 😊 You don’t understand how happy I am rn

[ 9:45 | Theo ] It’s just a book, relax.

[ 9:45 ] Yea sure but don’t you read slowly on purpose? Kinda thrilled you liked it enough to polish it in one go.

She pauses, hand hovering over her phone, before she writes out another message.

[ 9:46 ] Thanks for telling me. This has def made my day.

And it takes a minute for him to reply, but then he returns:

[ 9:47 | Theo ] Isn’t this what friends do?

Well, let’s say that something in her belly does a flip, and—

It makes her feel weightless.

#the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

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oingo233 · 3 years

Note

I am loving how much thought you're putting into these ship requests ❤ so I thought I'd ask too!

I'm a heterosexual Ravenclaw female. I like to read and write. I used to peer tutor. I like to laugh. My sense of humor is pretty sarcastic. I like to play board games and watch movies and TV. I like being outside but just to relax and enjoy the weather. No camping or serious hiking for me lol. I have green eyes and dark blonde hair. Think you could do a ship for both ears? If not whichever you want is fine. 😊

You sound so awesome! (Total side note: but yall or too cool for me wtf I just adore you) I kinda went off with the marauders ship, and since I wrote so much for it I decided not to do the Lightning Era ship, which I hope you don’t mind, but if you really want one just let me know and I’ll get to it. Also sorry this took me forever, I’m the worst at posting/writing. But I hope you enjoy it! <3

Anyways, based off of everything here is what I think....

Marauders Era

I ship you with James Potter...

- He saw you were giving peer tutoring lessons so he lied and said he needed “loads of help. Please, you’d be doing me a huge favor. I’ll pay ya back?” he’d say with a wink, you’d roll your eyes and fight your smile because truth be told him and his friends always made you laugh with their pranks and you were always a little curious about this charming and handsome boy.

- You agree, in the name of education and graciousness of course. No other reason... none at all. Definitely not because he smelled good, and you knew he was passing that class with flying colors and so he had to be into you too, right?

- He was, oh god he was so into you. He spent more time staring at you than the books you used to study. It was often you’d look up to see if he was “registering” the information and he’d just be gazing up at you through his glasses, mouth slightly agape in a smile. You’d blush and ask him an on-topic question, he’d answer correctly and you’d only blush more.

- He always made you laugh till your stomach was in knots and the two of you were kicked out of the library. It was one of those time when he asked you out on your guy’s first “date”.

- The two of you were standing outside the library doors, cheeks flushed and eyes alight with humor. He told the worlds best story about his first time on a broom, and how he thought he could fly into outer-space and bring back a star for his mom. (he was very little and didn’t know any better, his dad of course was right next to him and raced after him, but James was so fast. Afterwards at dinner they scowled him, but knew he would be just great at quidditch.)

- “But it’s all true, all of it,” he says, laughing as you shake your head in disbelief. He is walking beside you as you two wander the halls, not sure where to go but not wanting to part from one another. “But I’ll tell you, nothing has ever made me feel so free. Just flying like that, nothing can hold you back.” he says, a large smile on his face. You smile up at him and his heart nearly drops.

- “Sounds nice,” You mutter, only half paying attention to your own words because James looked so kissable then. He smiled wider and walked closer to you, blushing as his nerves took over. “I could teach ya? If ya want, of course.” He asks you. Without hesitation you say yes.

- That weekend you spend the whole Saturday together, learning, it seems as though he was the tutor now. You nearly fell off the broom from laughing so hard, and James’s face would genuinely twist with worry when you would try new moves, he wouldn’t want you getting hurt. The weather was just wonderful and the brisk breeze caressed your skin, yet the sun kept you warm.

- It was on that beautiful day, that you two laid back on the field of grass to rest and enjoy the weather, he leaned over and kissed you. You were in shock and he almost pulled away, ready to apologies and die from embarrassment but then you started kissing him back and he found something he for sure liked more than flying...you.

- You two fell in love and have been dating ever since. His sense of humor is both terrible amazing puns, and sarcasm so you two are always laughing your hearts out with the rest of the Marauders or even just alone.

- You two play board games a lot because he actually started to like them around the same time he found out you did (coincidence...I think not). When you two played together he’d get so into it, he’d just stare down at the board and figure out his next move, giving you perfect time to admire him in silence. He truly was beautiful. You’d see his glasses inch down his nose, and he’d slowly push them back up, still focused.

- Whenever you let him win (rarely) he’d would boast about it all day, but it made him so happy you learned to sit there and take it, you knowing the truth about your mad skills was enough. Sirius and Remus knew it too.

- He’d always watch movies and TV with you, but only if you two were cuddled up. It’s the only thing that helped him stay still long enough to really get lost in and take in the film. His fav cuddle positions were when you’d lay in-between his legs, ontop of him, and cuddle your head on his chest, you were so warm and he’d play with your hair and give you forehead kisses .

- Or, his all time fav cuddle was when it was switched, and he was laying atop your chest. He loved how he could hear your heartbeat, and feel when you laugh. You also just run your hands through his hair and if he isn’t careful he could just fall asleep like that, zenned out and warm.

- Since you like being outside so much, but no hard activities (gurl, same!) he would always set up a picnic for the two of you. Outside on nice days, he’d cover your eyes and lead you across campus to this spot beneath a nice, shady tree. Lying underneath it would be a blanket, your favorite book and foods, and some pillows. He’s let you lay your head in his lap and he’d read aloud to you. He’d put on voices for the characters and make sarcastic commentary that always made you laugh.

- During quidditch matches he gave you his spare jersey to wear and begged you to “Just for one day, be a Gryffindor. I’ll give ya me jersey, splash some face paint on ya, and no one will tell the difference.” because he’d want for you to sit with Remus, and Sirius and Peter and cheer him on, because then he wouldn’t have to look all over the stands for his favorite group of cheerleaders. You always kissed him before a match for good luck, he swears by it.

- But he also loved that you were a Ravenclaw. He admired your intelligence, wit and creativity the most and it wasn’t like you were lacking the Gryffindor traits that he took so much pride in. He also liked the different perspective you could give him on situations considering your different houses really shaped you both individually and he spent a lot of time with fellow Gryffindors.

- He’d pull the best puppy eyes to convince you to let him read whatever you are writing. He adores every word you put on paper and even asks to keep his favorite story of yours that you’ve written so he can read it over summer.

- Overall, you both love and support one another so much! And it was a match made by cupid himself aka me

I hope you liked this!

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ajoy3fanfics · 4 years

Text

Captive Chapter 3

AO3 FF.NET

Earlier

There were several moments of pause between when the king gave the order to fetch the oldest princess and his answer. He had collapsed into his throne, high backed and rigid, wordlessly reminding him that a ruler must sit tall and look stern.

‘You mustn’t let them see you smile, Kaname.’ He has told his young son, placed upon his knee, many, many, years ago. ‘If they see you smile, they think you weak. And you know what happens to rulers whose subjects find them easy?’

The young boy shook his head, ringlets bouncing from the movement, eyes large in worry and wonder. ‘No,’ he whispered. A boy not yet 4, and he already had a ruler's furrowed brow. He would carry the weight of the crown well.

‘They will tear you down, my son. They will strip you of your power, and ruin all that you hold precious. You must always make them think you are sterner than you are, for the good of this family, and the good of our country. That is not to say you must treat your subjects badly. Be fair and wise, but never forget that magic runs through your veins. You must never let your people forget either. If you do, the consequences will be dire. Do you understand?’

As if to prove the lesson had hit home, the young boy practiced his scowl, a look he would wear until his dying day. In that moment, the king had been proud, suppressing the urge to smile at his little heir, obedient to a fault and eager to please.

He wished he had smiled more. It was easy, in the moment, to wish to raise a great soldier, a fine leader for the country. But once gone, he mourned not the prodigal heir, but the son he once was. It was a regret he went to bed with each night and rose with every day. He carried it, heavy in his heart, the weight much greater than the fate of the kingdom on his shoulders.

In moments like these, the weight felt greater. His granddaughter, the jewel of the country, the prettiest rose in the land, was soon to be plucked from the kingdom and planted in foreign soil. The old king slumped now, head supported by his hands, bone-weary. When he heard the shuffle of the guard's feet, armor heavy on the palace floor, he readied, wanting to greet her entrance with a smile.

“My dear princess-“ he started, only to look between the silver-clad men in confusion. “Where is the princess?”

“My King,” Naraku bowed low, perhaps not low enough in some’s opinion, but royal advisors were known to be rather cocky. “The princess has barricaded herself in her chambers. She has ordered the maids away, and the guards request your permission to remove her by force.”

“That will not be necessary.” The king dismissed their concern with a wave of his hand. “Send her sister. She has never failed to quell Princess Kikyo when she turns an ill mood.”

Advisor Naraku nodded to the guard, as if offering his approval to do just that. Turning on their heels, they stormed off to retrieve the second princess and do their bidding.

“She has caught wind of it then.” The king commented.

“You can’t be surprised, my grace.” Naraku smiled, rather toothy and slyly, even for a spider demon. “Lady Kikyo matches the scholars wit for wit. She may have thought of this solution before we.”

The king nodded, conceding that it was true. “If only she had been born a man, then my troubles would surely be over.” In truth, he had not planned to rule this long, and had long looked forward to passing the crown and the kingdom, indulging in the responsibilities of being a grandfather and attending to the ladies in his harem. Fate, of course, had other ideas, and thus he was left to wait for a boy of 8 to grow.

“Our princess is gifted in many ways other ways, my lord. She will serve her purpose, as is her birth right.” Naraku tried to comfort the king, standing beside the throne.

The room remained silent, the air hot and heavy, turning his thoughts dull and vision blurry. When was the last time he slept? Two days ago, three? Not since news of the army came at least. It was only when the soft voice of his granddaughter caught his ear that he paid attention.

“Grandfather,” she bit her lip in that childish way that Kikyo never did. The king wanted to shake her- royalty does not fidget, hadn't the tutors taught her so? That was a lesson for another day. “My-Kikyo is....”

“Out with it girl!” Naraku spat, making the princess shoot the advisor a cold look. “Kikyo is gone. She’s disappeared.”

“Gone?” Her granddaughter repeated, the word lost, faded. “How-“

“The maids have not seen her since yesterday. They say she sent them off, wishing to spend the night alone. She told maid Aki that she felt a chill, and did not wish to get the others sick.”

“By all the Gods...” the old king, at a loss for words, slammed his fists into the arm of his throne, torn between disappointment and anger. How could she do this? Had he not raised her well? Taught her that the price of leadership is heavy, and requires sacrifices only a ruler could bare? Yet she ran, stole away in the night, alone and unguarded.

“Send the guards, leave only the minimum here for protection. Keep it silent, do not let the country know she is missing.” He answered.

“And what of the marriage?” Naraku prompted, “What are we to tell the king? They are expecting Princess Kikyo in 3 days time.”

“We will find her before then, surely!” The king's voice was shaking. “The girl could not have gone far without help. Did you know of this, granddaughter? Did you help her plot?”

Princess Kagome shook her head eagerly. “No, of course not grandfather. Why would she run? What is happening?”

“She is to be wed to the Hojo tribe. Their army advances and she is the key to peace. Or at least, she was to be.” Naraku added bitterly.

“She will be found!” The king yelled, anger flaring in such a way that made Kagome grimace.

“Yes, and what in the meantime? How do we hold off the invasion?” The advisor demanded.

Two sets of eyes fell on Princess Kagome.

A decision- a plot- had been made.

-.-

Her shoes were not made for this.

They were a fine silk, light in color and offering little protection if any. They were suited for the marble floors of a palace, washed daily, scrubbed bright, so as not to sully even the soles of her shoes. Yet here she was, dirt kissing her delicate ankles, filthier than she had been in years and exhausted.

She had chosen to walk, the idea of being restrained not particularly appealing; if possible, she would like to defend herself against this beast, although rationally, she knew she never stood a chance.

He was a fast walker, continually having to slow his pace to match hers. A princess should not rush, should not move in a way that made others question her dignity. Even as a child, when her muscles screamed to be stretched, she had to slow her movements and conduct herself with grace. Apparently, this rogue had little knowledge of her training, and frequently threatened to toss her over his shoulder if she did not pick up her speed. causing her to bunch the silk fabric into her hands, revealing white, creamy legs and practically sprint after him to catch up.

By the time the sun had set she was bone-weary, hungry, and afraid. She had never been so far from home, let alone in the woods by herself.

“We’ll camp here for the night.” He grunted, nodding his head towards the bank of a river. “We should wash up then eat.”

“I won’t eat anything until you tell me where you’re taking me.” She protested. She had to look a mess, hair flying out at all ends, sweat and dirt covering her face. Kikyou would never have allowed this to happen. She would have demanded the respect of royalty from the start. With one glance, the captor would have fallen in love, never wanting such a delicate woman to blister her precious feet. Kagome, unfortunately, lacked the skills her sister possessed.

“Princess, I think you misunderstand what’s happening here. You’re not in control anymore. No one is taking orders from you. Eat, or don’t eat. I don’t give a damn.”

He unstrapped the armor over his shoulders, the heavy metal falling to the ground with a thud. The weight of it must have been significant, yet he wore it with such ease. His pure strength made Kagome shiver.

He assumed a lot, for a soldier. Believing that the carriage belonged to Kikyo, the famed beauty, he did not even question that she could be another member of the household. She was to be a messenger- a stand in- yet he took her for so much more. If she wasn’t so terrified, she may have been flattered he made such a leap.

“If I don’t eat, I’ll slow you down. I’ll faint. You’ll have to explain why the Higurashi Princess was so mistreated. You obviously want to keep me alive, I would assume you were told to deliver me unharmed.”

Rolling his neck, the demon gave a soft laugh before walking towards her. Kagome stuck her chin out, determined not to show him her weak points, though she knew he could probably smell the fear, see her knees shaking. Narrowed amber eyes assessed her as he stepped closer. He was a foot taller than her at least, body firm with muscle. He could bring her to her knees with no effort.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He rolled his broad shoulders, his muscles bunching as he stretched, before brushing past her, almost nonchalant, as he made way to the bank of the river. “I don’t give a damn what happens to you.” He looked almost disinterested in her threat. “Eat, don’t eat. Sleep, don’t sleep. If you slow me down, I’ll just throw you over my shoulder. Either way, you’re coming back with me, Princess Kikyo.” His molten eyes roved over her figure, giving her goosebumps. No one had ever dared to openly stare at her in such a manner. No one had ever wanted to, not with her sister around. Swallowing hard, she planted her feet firmly in the ground, begging the Gods for strength.

“And what is to happen to me once we reach your land?” She asked. Terror began to flood her, tales of women taken against their will, sold or forced to be part of a harem. The beast shrugged.

“How should I know?” He yawned, a move that took both parties by surprise. “My job is just to bring you back. It’s up to the king to decide what to do with you.”

Kagome considered the man before her; he was well armored, the metal precious and expensive. He was a skilled fighter but spoke roughly. What was his status? Where did he come from? Cocking her head to the side, she finally spoke.

“Who are you?” Even in her questioning, she sounded well-bred, royal. It was a question that she expected to be answered, spoken like someone who had been raised never to wait.

“I’m the man who saved your ass back there.” He smirked. “So do me a favor and don’t try to pull any tricks while I sleep tonight. I’m tired, but I rest with one eye open. Try and kill me and I’ll end you before you even get close. Try and sneak away, and I’ll hear you, find you; or worse, something out here will get to you before I do.”

~.~

Kagome did not sleep that night, and she was paying dearly for it. The last time she had gone a night without slumber it had been intentional. She had locked herself away, the candle burning bright as she cradled a book in her hands, blankets wrapped around her midsection as she devoured the text in her hand.

Back at the palace, it did not matter if she slept in the next morning, as long as she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for her lessons. Kagome would stretch out, her silk sheets cool against her skin as she lounged, pillows high and fluffed, breakfast ready on the tray.

This was different.

Each step felt like agony, and she was positive that it was pure adrenaline, a dash of fear and her anger simmering to a boil that kept her awake. That, and her captor��s constant snide remarks to keep moving.

He was relentless in his pace; did he not realize that she had never had to walk this far in her life? If Mistress Yura could see her now, mud up to her knees, hair askew and dirty with sweat, her strict teacher would faint. Or threaten to strike her; Kagome really unsure what the woman would do. Yet it did not really matter, Mistress Yura was tucked away in safety, and Kagome was assuming the name of her sister, on her way to who knows where, off to Gods knows what fate. Kagome could feel her brow furrowing, lines etching deeply into her forehead.

“I need a break.” She commanded, stopping dead in her tracks.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” How could an endearment sound so bitter? “I’ve got better things to do than babysit you all day. The sooner we get to the village, the sooner I’m free of you.”

“I need to rest.” She said again more sternly. “My legs ache, my feet are sore, I haven't ate-”

“We’re losing daylight, Princess.” The man called over his shoulder, her title slipping off his tongue like a threat. “Pick up the pace, or I’ll sling you over my shoulder like a bag of damn rice.”

The first words he had spoken in hours, and they were vile. How could a man treat a lady in such a manner? How could he treat a person like cattle?

“You will not touch me, sir.” She bit out. “This is inhumane!”

“This is nothing.” He snapped. “A light walk in the woods. You’ve lived such a pampered life that anything real makes you wilt.”

The heat of her fury was so real she swore she felt it licking her insides. “You know nothing- of-”

“I know that if you do not shut your mouth and start walking, I won’t be as kind as I’ve been.”

Kagome's jaw fell slack. “K-kind?! You think yourself kind?”

“Princess, I’m a demon. Half demon, but still one. I can make this journey in less than a day if I run and take to the trees. But because I know you’d be sick and likely scream so damn loud you’d strip your vocal cords, I’ve opted to walk.” He stretched out his arms wide, palms up for effect. “Kind.” He smirked.

She was at a loss for words. This beast thought he was chivalrous!

“Now, if you don’t start puttin’ one foot in front of the other, you’ll see a side of me you don’t like.”

Kagome smiled menacingly as she dramatically took a step. “You assume too much. I find this side is deplorable. I can’t imagine you could get fouler.”

Inuyasha laced his hands behind his head as he casually strolled on, now satisfied that his hostage would cooperate again. “Your lack of imagination will bite you in the ass someday.”

~.~

By the time night began to fall, Kagome was sure that her blisters had developed blisters. Her muscles ached, her legs felt weak and wobbly. The soles of her slippers had worn thin, leaving her feet exposed to every rock and stick on the road, her feet throbbing and bloody.

And the hunger; she had rarely skipped a meal at home, and even when she did, she could easily call on the chef or kitchen maid to bring her some treat. Hunger had never carved its way into her bones the way it had others, and for the first time, she felt the hollow of her stomach as it ached.

When was the last time she took a drink of water? The man was a beast in more than a name. He never stopped, kept dredging along. Did he ever thirst? Feel hunger? Pain?

She needed to stop, needed to rest. She needed to be home again, needed so many things-

“I think I-”

The world faded black as Princess Kagome fell to the ground.

#inuyasha and kagome #inukag #inuyasha #inufanfic #fanfiction #kagome #ajoy3

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griffinsandpeacocks · 4 years

Text

GET UP & WRITE! Section 5: “If you were logical, you would’ve killed me already.”

Slowly over the years Erestor marvels at how dedicated Glorfindel is with courting him, the elf had sung for him and had lead him out on dates far into secret glades in the valley to lay beneath stars and hold each other as they listened and watched. It was beautiful to see that the elda had not changed. He was still a sweet caring vanya that would dote on those he loved and put his all into his passions.

Erestor was nervous but had dug out the rings he’d somehow managed to hold onto. The rings that were meant to be worn on their wedding day. He wonders at the possibility. Could he let go of that shadow of fear and fall into Glorfindel’s arms? It wouldn’t ever heal the pain he still had at the fact Ecthelion would not be there, but maybe, just maybe he can swallow that pain and let in this happiness he’d been denied and was now denying himself.

“Erestor there is a diplomatic issue I would like your help with.” Elrond says across from the distracted darkling who blinks looking up to see Elrond he places the rings back in his desk drawer and stands.

“We’ll discuss it in your office?” He asks and the other noldo nods. They walk and Elrond has a dark look on him and Erestor wonders. Elrond rarely looked like this unless something was going on that was terrible. When they enter his office Elrond goes to the window and stares out across the Valley for a long moment.

“I’ve gotten reports that some diplomats we sent out never reached Galadriel. I want you to go the same rout they did and find out what happened. I sent out three of them with two archers as their escort they all had former combat experience and I felt they would be capable. Something happened and I want to know what.” Elrond says turning to look at Erestor who knows what the elf will ask of him he nods and bows.

“I am a arrow ready to loose at your command.” Erestor swears bowing and Elrond sighs looking down.

“I do not ask this lightly, old friend, but please find our missing people, with the mercy of the Valar they’ll be alright.” Elrond sighs and Erestor stands straight and nods and folds his hands behind him.

“I’ll need the route, can you deliver them to me while I prepare to ride out?” Erestor asks and Elrond nods.

“Shall I send anyone to tail you?” He asks and Erestor paused.

“Anyone who knows how to hang back and can come back here to gather the needed troops, Glorfindel can’t hear of this he’ll insist on coming with me.” Erestor says and Elrond nods.

“I foresaw that and sent him on a boarder patrol out at the western most boarders. He’ll be no where near you as you pass out of our lands.” Elrond says and Erestor nods pursing his lips and he walks out he let’s his assistant know he’ll be leaving on a task and the younger elf frowns in worry and nods.

“Is it the missing scholars?” He ass and Erestor paused looking at him in shock, “One is my brother.” He answers and Erestor’s hands clench.

“I shall find them, worry not.” Erestor says and he smiles shakily and nods wishing Erestor swift and safe travels. Erestor hopes so too. He gathers clothes for the journey and hides his smaller hide-able blades on his person and braids a pick low into his hair and hums softly as he removed the circlet and wrote a small note to Glorfindel and left it pinned to the door it was short merely saying he was off on a simple errand for Elrond and would return within a few days all things willing.

“Erestor this is the route they took.” Elrond says laying the map down before quickly sweeping off to go take care of other matters and Erestor looks over it folding it in his pocket and gathering some simple provisions and taking a nondescript horse of a pale brown coat and he rides out an archer he knows follows on a sable horse. He let’s distance grow between them but he does tell Erestor he’ll be as swift as death should anything go amiss. Knowing the elf Ersetor had smiled and agreed. The elf had been old not one of the few to survive Gondolin but he was a descendant of one.

“I believe you mellon.” He says softly and they follow the trail. Erestor knows it’‘l be outside their lands. He isn’t comfortable as he travels and he can see his shadow but knows a human would not. He does signal they drop back further though as the map is with them. He hopes it is not a group of elves doing this but on the chance he doesn’t want them both caught.

It’s once he’s far along the road while he’s setting camp they strike. Several bleed out of the shadows and he sighs softly. They’re far from skilled, he wonders how they managed to get the first group. Then again his gut says something is off. They’ve surrounded him yes, but perhaps it was different with the others? He looks around at the humans and grits his teeth wanting to let loose scathing words.

“I see I am out numbered. Is there a reason for this?” Erestor asks having one hand on his sword he’s scanned out the archers of the group but he can see a few hiding in trees. They’re clever enough he’ll give them that much, if their prey was humans.

“Come with us and no one gets hurt.” The seeming leader says and Erestor hesitantly released his hold on his blade he lifts his hands palm out.

“Lead the way then.” He says and they close in ushering him behind the leader as others gather up the camp site and he whistles and the horse bolts. He gets a sharp blow to his head for that one and hissed but grit his teeth and bears it. He walks on and eventually they reach a campsite nested into a cave he sees the five he looks for at the back all bound and knelt the archers look worse for wear but the scholars seem well enough. Minor bruises on their faces one sports a split lip but that’s all. The archers look like they’ve taken a couple beatings.

“Lord Erestor!” One gasps sitting up struggling with what Erestor hears are shackles the chains rattling as the elf strains but a sharp kick in his chest sends him sprawling back. Erestor growls low in his throat.

“A lord eh? An who should we make the random out to?” The leader chuckles and Erestor narrows his eyes.

“You lot think being this cruel will help your case once my Lord hears you have me and want payment? Lord Elrond would sooner pin you all with arrows that stand for this.” He hissed pretending to be what humans perceived of elven high standing, arrogant and unskilled in war, more likely to frolic in flowers than properly handle a sword.

“That so? Then maybe we should make sure he knows any my lads die then it’ll be your head he’ll receive?” The man says and Erestor growls but when one of the scholars cries out Erestor’s attention snaps to see one brigand has the elf by his hair and has a blade to his throat.

“Calm, if you hurt them we will all die fighting and what good are we dead?” Erestor says looking between the Leader and the blade fearing for the younger elf. The man lowers his blade and the elf’s thrown face first forward into the cave floor. The leader chuckles.

“Smart one. Shackle him with the rest we should look at our options boys. They’ll fetch a fair price on any market for sure, but what can we get out of a lord for another?” The leader asks. Erestor is roughly shoved down onto his knees his sword taken and set aside somewhere and he’s left with the five. The main group walks out to jest leaving only two guards a little ways away. Erestor looks at the other who all look angry and upset.

“How did they get a hold of you?” Erestor asks softly keeping an eye on the guards. The archer that has already spoken up pursed his lips.

“There’s a woman with them, she pleaded for help saying bandits were attacking her home and she begged us for help. We walked into a trap.” He explains softly. Erestor sighs softly. That explained it. They were cocky with him because he was alone.

“I’ll get us all out of here. If not there’s help on the way already.” Erestor says softly seeing that the one thrown to the ground earlier is crying softly. Erestor takes a deep breath and sighs as right now he holds no sympathy for the humans. He hears a slight commotion and takes the chance. He tilts his head and sits back on his heels he manages to get a hold of the pick and slowly gets it into the lock and manages to click open the cuffs as the guards look away and start towards the cave entrance Erestor unlocks the others swiftly and sees his sword he grabs it and leads them out taking down the guards swiftly from behind before they could respond. Thankfully the other’s are able to arm up with their things as they’d been with Erestor’s sword.

“If you were logical, you would have killed me already.” Erestor states as he emerges from the cave to hear the leader bragging to the group that had come to help that if they got closer he’d signal his men to kill Erestor and the others. He spins around and growls launching at Erestor who does a simple sidestep bringing his blade over the man’s throat in a quick swift motion and he stumbles and falls. The others are all relived and thank Erestor for seeing that the others were rescued and that they’d see them safely to Galadriel’s realm from here and that he could take the mare he’d ridden out on back if he liked.

Though the scholar that had been beaten the most opted to return with Erestor to Imladris. No one blamed him. He was scuffed up pretty badly not only a split lip but a nasty bruise forming on his forehead and Erestor had a feeling an issue with his wrist and there was a cut on his throat. He found out it was his assistant’s brother. He was younger and had gone to get some training and learn a bit but now was returning and Erestor felt bad. This young elf had training sure but he had no real combat experience.

“I’ll help tutor you once we return if your anything alike to your brother you’ll do quite well. I can have our librarian Dillothon teach you more as well depending on what you seek to do.” Erestor says and the younger elf flushed and looks down upset.

“You’ve already so many duties you need not trouble yourself teaching me, Lord Erestor.” He says and Erestor snorts and assures him he needed the distraction as he’d had too much free time as of late regardless. When they return the younger elf is whisked away, his assistant, Gloron comes and smiles seeing his brother safe and thanks Erestor and warns him Glorfindel had returned from the patrol as it had been called short due to foul weather and had been pestering him on Erestor’s whereabouts. Erestor thanked him quickly ran to Elrond’s office and gave a verbal report before heading to his rooms and washing up. He isn’t shocked Glorfindel is waiting on the chaise when he comes out.

“I heard from the soldiers you’d gone out to bring back some missing Scholars.” He says and looks tired and Erestor sighs and goes to the other and kneels before him.

“Aye, and all of us are now safe. The others went to Galadriel as they had intended and one, my assistant’s brother, chose to come back with me. I was in no grave danger a scout trailed me and would have gotten help as soon as it was needed. I was captured less than a full day.” Erestor comforts and Glorfindel nods and pulls Erestor into his lap trying to calm the hissing voices in his mind that said Erestor could have been hurt. He wouldn’t damage Erestor’s pride, his meleth was more than capable. He just... Worried.

Word count: 2,118

#GET UP & WRITE!#GET UP & WRITE! CHALLENGE #Lord of the Rings fanfiction #Glorestor #Glorfindel #Erestor #Elrond #OCS #humans being trash #Galadriel

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wingedquill · 4 years

Text

over the mossy roots

@geraltwhumpweek

TITLE: over the mossy roots

SHIP: Gen

PROMPT DAY: Day 1: Ostracism

MEDIUM (Netflix, Books, Games, Hexer): Netflix

WARNINGS: Child abuse (of the magical mind manipulation variety), Hurt/No Comfort, Unhappy Ending

SUMMARY: Ciri has been running too hard for too long. When Visenna stumbles across her in the woods, it's no wonder her mind welcomes in the warm, comforting feeling of her magic. It's no wonder she bends to her suggestions, becomes the perfect daughter Visenna has dreamed of since she was forced to get rid of her last child. And, when Geralt finds them, it's no wonder he's horrified.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is the second part to a lil series I’m working on where Geralt has inherited some of his mother’s druid magic. You can find the whole series on AO3 here

Ciri is so tired of being wary. Of looking at every stranger like they wish to rip her heart out.

It’s a necessity to keep her alive, she knows that. If even the familiar is dangerous—she still dreams of Mousesack twisting into a monster—then the unfamiliar is even more so. The Nilfgaardians wouldn’t even need to disguise themselves, they could just send a soldier to pose as one of the dozens of well-meaning women that have tried to adopt her.

And yet, part of her—a very large part of her—is begging the rest of her to just take the offer. To let herself be someone’s daughter again, to live in a simple, warm house, and take whatever name her new mother might want to give. To stop running, to stop looking for a man she suspects doesn’t want her. To be safe.

Right now, she’s huddled in her makeshift camp in the forest, shivering as the wind skitters across her back on icy feet. Her fingers are growing numb, but she can’t risk a fire—not so close to the nearest town. So she keeps them clenched into fists in Dara’s gloves, tucked under her armpits. Hopefully that’ll be enough to stave off frostbite.

Something growls.

She snaps her head up, staring intently into the undergrowth. Four pairs of yellow eyes stare back at her.

Shit.

She should have built that fire after all.

She stumbles to her feet and takes one step backward, then another, not breaking eye contact with the wolves. She fears that, if she does, they will take the opportunity to attack.

Breathe. Stay calm. Don’t let them smell your fear.

Sweat pricks at the back of her neck as, pools in her gloves. One of the wolves slinks forward, slipping from the undergrowth, followed by his fellows. He’s a monstrous thing, gray fur stuck through with twigs and burrs, the fur around his mouth already matted with blood. He’s just eaten then, but he’s clearly still hungry, drool dripping out of his mouth as he stalks towards Ciri.

He snarls and Ciri trips over a tree root, jolting her wrists as she tries to catch herself on the muddy, mossy earth. The wolf seems oddly satisfied as it moves towards her, like it can taste her panic in the air. Easy prey.

She reaches inside her, tugging at the part of her soul that tore a rift in the Earth, that fell the boys that tried to hurt her, but it feels stifled, buried deep beneath something else. Something stronger.

“That’s enough, dearies,” a voice says. It’s a woman’s voice, clear and calm, and that something else shifts over Ciri, rolling across her mind like a warm wave. Her limbs feel heavy, fuzzy with sleep, the aches of five months on the run sliding away from her as easily as a shed coat.

The woman moves forward, into Ciri’s line of sight. She walks through the forest as if it’s her court, and it bends to her like a loyal subject. Roots moving away from her feet, clearing the path between her and the wolves. The wolves that are no longer, snarling, bloodthirsty beasts, but docile puppies, whining and wagging their tails as she kneels down before them.

She’s never seen this kind of magic before. Nature magic, yes, from the women of Brokilon, from Mousesack. But never something this warm and weighty.

“Hush now,” the woman says, stroking the lead wolf’s nose. “Hush.”

The wolf goes to the ground, closing his eyes with a huff as sleep rushes over him. His pack follows suit, and soon, the woman is surrounded by snoring wolves.

The woman turns her head over her shoulder, locking eyes with Ciri.

“They’ll sleep for a while,” she says. “Would you like to pet one?”

The warmth slips through and around her brain, enveloping her in a feeling of safety so full and complete that she thinks she’ll cry. She doesn’t trust herself to speak so she just nods, slipping forward to crouch down next to the lead wolf, the one with the bloody muzzle.

She wonders if he ate some other little girl without a druid to protect her.

“These ones aren’t scared of people,” the woman murmurs as Ciri rests her hand on the wolf’s head. It’s softer than she imagined it would be. “They see them as prey.”

Ciri knows what happens to wild animals that aren’t scared of people.

“Are you going to kill them?” she asks.

“Oh no. It’s not their fault they’re hungry. Not their fault they were born with the taste for blood.” She keeps stroking the wolf’s head. A glow forms at her fingertips, the sickly yellow of half-rotted flowers.

“This will keep both them and the humans safe,” she explains as the glow covers the wolf from nose to lazily-flopping tail. Ciri feels like she’s being lectured by one of her tutors. “It’ll cause them pain to be within fifty feet of a person. They’ll turn and run when they feel the pain, and while it might hurt them a bit, it’ll cause less death and suffering overall. Does that make sense?”

Ciri nods.

“Good,” the woman says. She moves her hand to the next wolf. “I’ll teach you how to do this someday. You should be able to. I can sense your power. It is strong, but misguided at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” The nearly-forgotten wariness is back, shoving insistently through the artificial safety.

The woman smiles, but there is sadness in her eyes. She brings her free hand up, stroking her fingers through Ciri’s hair, and Ciri can’t stop herself from flinching. She half expects the yellow glow to cover her too, a punishment for her chaos.

“When you’re in danger, your first instinct is to lash out,” the woman says. “To kill. There is no need for this.”

They tried to kill me first, Ciri wants to protest, to defend herself. But her tongue feels very heavy in her mouth.

“I’ll take care of you,” the woman says, and then her arms are around Ciri, hoisting her into the air. Panic coils in Ciri’s throat, but it is quickly soothed away by safe, safe, safe. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a child in my house.”

“But I have to find—”

Who does she need to find again?

“You just need a place to rest,” the woman says. “To grow. To become something wonderful.”

She’s forgetting something. Something important, slipping further and further away from her brain as safety, warmth, home, comfort, quiet, quiet, QUIET, slips in.

The woman turns her head to look at the place that Ciri had fallen.

“I am Visenna,” she says. “But you will call me Ma. And you…”

“I’m C—”

“I will call you Moss,” she says decisively, shifting Ciri—Moss—Ciri, her name is Ciri, she won’t forget that too, she can’t forget that too—so that her weight rests against her hip.

“Why are you doing this?” Ciri manages to ask as the warmth floods her brain. She knows she won’t be able to hold out against it much longer.

“I told you,” Visenna says, running a finger over Ciri’s cheek, almost lovingly. “It’s been so long since I had a child.”

Ciri sleeps.

***

Moss wakes up.

She stretches lazily, staring at the first rays of sun as they play over her bedroom wall. Something is lingering in her brain, a dream of a forest, a star, a pair of flashing golden eyes. She shakes her head, blinking back the last bits of sleep and readying herself to start the day. Ma said she could start learning taming magic today, start coaxing restless piglets into contented slumber. She can’t wait.

She climbs out of bed and heads into the kitchen, where Ma is already up and slicing up thick slices of bread.

“Morning, Ma,” she yawns, snatching an apple out of the bowl on the table.

“Good morning, Moss,” Ma says, dropping a kiss onto Moss’s hair. Her touch is soft and gentle, her voice is soft and gentle, her magic is soft and gentle. And part of Moss thinks that that isn’t quite right, that her Ma is supposed to be burning violet eyes and fire and fierce protectiveness.

But that isn’t right.

She’s lived here all her life.

Must just be the remnants of a dream.

***

She’s happy.

***

She’s safe.

***

But some days she feels like she’s not supposed to be happy and safe. She’s supposed to be grieving something, something greater than a single person’s death, something huge and all-encompassing. She’s supposed to be terrified of something equally vast. Something coming for her.

She’s just a simple druid. She has made no enemies, has lost no family, has no reason to be sad and scared in this warm, bright forest.

And yet she is.

***

Ma teaches her how to coax the flowers out of the earth, how to calm piglets and wolves alike, how to soothe away small storms, how to encourage trees to grow into useful shapes—houses and walls and the like. She cultivates a gentle kind of power, and the urge to scream, to run, to get away(and why does she feel that anyway, in her own home?) lessens day by day.

***

There’s a knock at their door.

A man standing there, all shining white hair and fierce yellow eyes. He balks at the sight of Ma, staring at her like she’s a monster, like she’s dangerous. Moss bristles in indignation, glaring at the man as she comes to stand by Ma’s side.

(Part of her hollers in triumph, that someone else recognizes Ma for who she is.)

“Can I help you, sir witcher?” Ma asks, looping an arm around Moss’s shoulders. There’s frost threaded through her voice. She noticed the man’s stare too.

“I’m here for Ciri,” he growls and Moss—

That name sparks something in her, clamps down on her heart until it hurts, until she’s biting down on her fist to stifle a sob. Ma gently steers Moss—that isn’t your name, and that isn’t your mother, wake up—behind her, putting herself between her and the man.

A wave of warm safety rushes over Moss and she leans into it with a sigh, letting go of the fear that had flooded her system at the sound of a name that she’s quickly forgetting. The man shakes his head like he’s shooing away a fly.

“Stop that,” he says.

“You’re strong,” Ma laughs. There’s no humor in it. “Even for a witcher.”

“I always have been,” the man says. His voice is shaking, no matter how tough he tries to sound. “Give up the girl.”

“I have more than mind magic you know.” She steps forward, but the man doesn’t flinch.

“So do I,” he says evenly. It’s not just his voice that’s shaking now. Fine tremors run up and down his body, making him tremble all over except for his right hand, which rests steady against the hilt of his sword.

“You won’t take my child,” Ma says. “I’ll die before I let that happen.”

And the man laughs. It’s bitter. Wounded.

“That’s a new tune for you,” he says. His knuckles are turning white. “How long will you want to keep her then,Visenna?” He spits Ma’s name like it’s poison. “A year? Five years? Until she gets a mind of her own?”

Around them, the trees that make up the framework of their house creak in warning. Ma stretches out her arms, trying to cover as much of the space in front of Moss as she can.

Run. Go to him. He’s here to save you.

SafetyWarmthQuietQuietQUIET

She stays still. This feels more like a dreams than her dream had.

“You’re breaking her,” the man says. He sounds close to tears. “You’re shattering her mind, surely you must realize that—”

“I’m helping her,” Ma insists. “Her chaos is destructive. Dangerous—”

“As is mine,” The trees shake more violently. Three of them break free of their contorted (wrong, wrong, they shouldn’t growlike that) positions and curl inwards, branches snapping threateningly.

Ma stretches her fingers up and the trees fall still. Her shoulders heave as she takes in the man.

“So what will you do with her when her chaos escapes your shackles?” The man storms forward. Branch after branch peels away from the ceiling. “Take her off to market? Leave her alone by the side of the road?”

Leaves spin around them like a gathering storm and Moss doesn’t even know how to counter this kind of power. More than that, she doesn’t know if she wantsto counter this kind of power. Because Ma isn’t denying the man’s accusations.

“Aspen,” she breathes instead.

“Not my name anymore.”

The branches descend.

Moss thinks, for a moment, that she’s about to watch Ma die. Fear and relief burn through her, so intermingled she can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Her head burns like something is tearing apart her brain piece by piece. Just when their home is about to pierce through Ma’s heart, she waves her hand and they freeze in the air.

She’s trembling, clearly straining against the man’s power, but she holds fast.

“You want me dead,” she whispers.

“I kill monsters,” the man says. He draws his sword. There’s pain on his face, stark and stricken, flashing in his eyes and twisting down his mouth. “And I’m sorry that you are one, but you are.”

“I’m not the one trying to pull apart a mother and her daughter,” Ma says, and she twists her right hand in a familiar pattern.

“No,” Moss says, as her hand glows sickly yellow. She’s seen this spell used before, on countless wolves and bears and kikimora. The thought of using it on a person is just—it’s unimaginable. Unthinkably cruel. “No!”

QUIET.

Her mouth snaps shut and she falls to her knees, the pain peaking in her head. The man growls and charges forward, swinging his sword at Ma’s head. She ducks under the swing and darts past him, brushing her hand across her chest as she goes.

The glow spreads over his skin, eating up every inch of him, and he drops to the ground with a scream, his limbs jerking uncontrollably. He curls in on himself, the scream still piercing the air, writhing and gasping like a dying fish.

“Wh—Wha—?” he chokes, reaching for his fallen sword. Ma takes a step closer to him and his hand curls into a useless claw. His question cuts off as he chokes on air, curling even tighter as agony racks through him. Moss can practically see the pain shuddering through him, wave after wave, his muscles twisting and jerking against it.

Her mother did this.

Her mother cursed a human being to feel pain whenever he goes near another person.

Her mother has effectively cut this man off from the rest of the world.

Moss is going to be sick. She’s sure of it.

“I had to,” Ma—no, Visenna, this woman doesn’t deserve the title of mother—says, cupping the man’s cheek in her hand. He wails as soon as she touches him, jerking backwards in a feeble attempt to get away from the pain. “You’re dangerous. You’d murder your own mother. You can’t be trusted around people.”

“Wha—?”

“Fifty feet,” Visenna says, getting to her feet. Her voice is clinical. Instructive. “That’s how close you can get to humans, before the burning starts. It’ll keep you and me safe, both. And keep others safe from you as well.”

“Y—You—” He’s trembling, and Moss isn’t sure if it’s from pain or fear. She wants to go to him, comfort him, but that will only make it worse.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But we wouldn’t be here if you’d just listened to me, all those years ago.”

She sighs, regretfully but not mournfully, like she’s discovered one of her plants—not even her favorite plant—is infested with aphids.

“Be well, Aspen,” she says, ignoring his earlier insistence that that isn’t his name. Ignoring the fact that he could hardly expect to be well with this kind of curse, that killing him would have been kinder.

She turns around to pick up Moss, and for the first time in a long time, Moss struggles against her grip.

“No!” she screams, as Visenna hoists her into the air and carries her towards the door. “No, no, you have to undo it, you can’t just leave him like this, you fucking—”

“Language,” Visenna says idly as a wave of safetywarmthquietquietquiet rushes over her. She fights it with everything she has, thrashing against it like a fish caught in a net. But Visenna has always been stronger than her, will always be stronger than her, and she can feel her mind slipping out of her control.

And then, another command. One that she dimly realizes she’s felt before.

Forget.

The man lies on the floor of their house, shaking and shuddering as the pain pours through him.

Forget.

He tilts his head and meets Moss’s gaze with panicked golden eyes.

FORGET.

And she remembers. The White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia. Her destiny.

FORGET. SLEEP.

Ciri closes her eyes.

***

Moss wakes up.

#geraltwhumpweek #the witcher #geralt of rivia #ciri #angst #no happy endings in this installment folks

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ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut · 4 years

Text

Fate’s Divergence Chapter 5

Hey guys! Here’s Chapter 5 of Fate’s Divergence! Thank you so much for the support for this story! Also, I updated the other chapters with Ethari instead of Tinker to be season 3 compliant. Hopefully I got all of it. Let me know if I missed one and where.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragon Prince

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Rayla made a face at the clothes that were provided for her. She didn’t want to wear dresses or human garments. She stubbornly kept on her dirty clothes, hoping the snub wouldn’t change the minds of the humans to execute her after all.

The human male and his wife exchanged a look before giving her smiles, though it did nothing to ease Rayla, despite their promises not to hurt her.

“We’ll get clothes you like.” The human male promised, but to Rayla, it was nothing but gibberish. She didn’t know what they were saying, and it continued to frustrate her as they led her and the human boy to a large dining area. Any doubt they were not royalty left Rayla’s mind the more she took in of the castle, leaving her with more questions.

If these humans were royalty, did that mean they were planning to attack the Dragon King? But then they would’ve held her as a hostage, wouldn’t they? So many questions circled Rayla’s head, and she grew more and more frustrated with the language barrier imposed on her.

A tiny hand took hers, and Rayla was yanked from her thoughts as she met the human boy’s gaze. He gave her an excited smile.

“Moonlily, after breakfast I’ll show you my room okay? We’ll have lots of fun!” the boy promised. Rayla furrowed her brow, catching he kept saying ‘Moonlily’. Was he insulting her?

She wished more than anything to know.

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

“Now Callum, you have lessons after breakfast.” Sarai lightly chided him, her eyes sparkling playfully.

“But I want to play with Moonlily!” Callum protested. He didn’t want to leave Moonlily alone again, afraid she’ll be lonely and start sobbing again. Callum couldn’t describe it, but when Moonlily cried it made his chest ache.

“Moonlily needs to go to the tailor after breakfast.” Harrow told him smiling. “It seems she’s more a fan of pants than Claudia’s old dresses.”

“She’s speaking sense.” Sarai grinned at Harrow. “Pants are much better than dresses!”

“Speaking from experience now?” Harrow quirked an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Of course! After all, I don’t wear dresses for that reason!” Sarai winked. Harrow and Callum laughed while the elf girl watched them with a frown, her brow scrunching up.

“Are you all right, Moonlily?” Callum squeezed her hand gently. As for his Moonlily, she gave him a pensive expression.

“Amin delotha sut amin uma il- rangwa mani lle naa ilya sayien!” Moonlily said with a sour expression. “Amin merna an edhel a' talk a'…”

Callum studied her, stroking her hand with his thumb like his mother would do for him to soothe him. His Moonlily stared back at him, irritation and perhaps a bit of sorrow in her gaze. He wished more than anything he could understand her and her understand him.

An idea came to him then, and he grinned excitedly, squeezing his Moonlily’s hand to reassure her.

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

“I beg your pardon, Prince Callum?” Opeli blinked as she paused in setting up for Callum’s lessons.

“I want to learn Elvish, Miss Opeli.” Callum repeated, his expression determined.

“Prince Callum, I’m supposed to teach you politics and Katolis’s traditions.” Opeli told him, though not unkindly.

“Well, shouldn’t being able to communicate with other nations count as politics?” Callum wasn’t giving up. Opeli gave him an impressed look.

“Very good point, Prince Callum, but I still can’t teach you.” Opeli told him.

“Why not?” Callum was shocked. “Miss Opeli, you’re the smartest teacher on the king’s council!” Callum protested.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Prince Callum.” Opeli smiled softly at the young boy. “But the reason I can’t teach you is because I don’t know Elvish.”

“What?” Callum blinked, but straightened his shoulders, trying to appear more like a prince. “Well… is there anyone who does know Elvish?” he asked politely, but with a professionalism he’s seen King Harrow use when addressing his subjects.

“Humans haven’t needed to know Elvish for centuries.” Opeli replied, eying him sadly. “I doubt there’s any human tutor that could teach you.”

Callum’s shoulders slumped, and he appeared sad. Opeli watched him in pity. She had seen the little elf King Harrow and Queen Sarai had brought home. She knew eventually it would have to be brought up in the council that King Harrow was housing an elf. She knew some of her other council members wouldn’t be as welcoming to the prospect of an elf in Katolis as the King and Queen were, and she couldn’t help but pity the poor elf. She was just a child, and Opeli knew despite being taken in by the highest authority in Katolis, it wouldn’t be enough to deter others from showing her spite.

“However,” Opeli began, catching Callum’s undivided attention. “The castle’s library has many ancient books, some collected before Katolis was formed. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was at least one book on what you are looking for.”

The smile that spread on Prince Callum’s face was brighter than the sun, and Opeli found herself smiling as well.

“Thanks Miss Opeli! I’ll check out the library!” Callum said happily. Opeli smiled, and they began their lesson.

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

Rayla made a face as she was directed to hold still as the unknown male appeared to be measuring her. To occupy herself, she watched the man who spoke with a condescending tone to her before speaking to the human king and his wife. She squirmed unconsciously when his children surveyed her curiously.

“Do you think elves bleed the same way humans do?” the dark-haired girl spoke, circling her. Rayla didn’t know what she was saying, but her gut told her it wasn’t pleasant with the way the girl watched her like she was a specimen and not a living being.

“Don’t get too close, Clauds.” The boy told his sister worriedly. “I heard if they bite, you get moonshadow madness!”

The dark-haired girl burst out into laughter, and Rayla furrowed her brow in frustration.

“Pfft where did you hear something so ridiculous?” the girl directed at her brother. He appeared embarrassed.

“Camp…” he murmured. The dark-haired girl laughed even harder. Rayla felt herself grow annoyed with them, feeling like she was the butt of some joke.

The tailor barked at her something, and Rayla assumed it was because her posture tensed up. She grumpily put herself back into her original stance as the siblings continued to bicker.

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

“Harrow, you can’t be ridiculous.” Viren pinched the bridge of his nose. “You surely can’t present her as your ward to the public.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s under our wing now.” Sarai gave Viren a look, not liking what he was implying. “We’re not keeping her a secret.”

“Think about what you’re saying, Queen Sarai.” Viren tried to advise. “The elf—”

“Moonlily.” Both Harrow and Sarai corrected him. Viren sighed.

“Moonlily.” He acquiesced. “Yes, we’re now her home, and we all agree we can’t take her back to Xadia, but think about it. Humans hate elves. The public would absolutely hate her—your subjects would question your sanity, and your rule could be shaky.” Viren tried to persuade Harrow.

“Perhaps that can change.” Harrow argued, determined. “She’s just a child. She’s harmless. Surely no one would hold anger towards a child?”

“No one will see her as a child. They’ll just see her as an elf.” Viren countered. “Perhaps give her to me? I would be less conspicuous and not as controversial.”

“Forgive me, Viren, but before you spoke to Moonlily disrespectfully so I’m doubtful you want to suddenly take her in as your own.” Sarai raised an eyebrow in skepticism. Viren sighed in frustration.

“I understand you’ve grown attached to her, Queen Sarai.” Viren spoke, “but you can’t let your emotions rule your common sense. Some of the castle is already talking in displeasure about your new ward. It would be better if she was hidden away.”

“You mean lock her up?” Harrow was appalled. “She’ll be miserable!”

“She’ll be safe!” Viren told them, frustrated at their stubbornness. “She’ll be safe, and your rule won’t be questioned! Everyone wins.”

“But at what cost?” Harrow challenged. “I preserve everyone’s peace of mind but condemn hers. I will not punish Moonlily for being born an elf. I will not be ashamed of her.”

“You can’t force change, Harrow.” Viren frowned at him. “I’m not speaking to you as your high mage, but as your friend. You may not be ashamed, but there are those who will make sure she feels shame.”

“Then they will answer to us.” Sarai said, determined. “We’re Moonlily’s family now. We’re all she has.”

“Viren,” Harrow’s stance carried all the authority of a king, “I understand your worries, but I won’t turn my back on Moonlily when she needs us.” He smiled then at his friend, placing a hand on Viren’s shoulder. “The people will see. I’m sure of it.”

Before Viren could answer, there was a commotion and the three of them turned to see the elf girl biting the tailor while Claudia and Soren were yelling.

“He’s gonna get moonshadow madness!” Soren cried.

“That’s not real!” Claudia countered.

“Ow! You savage! I was trying to fit you!”

The elf girl wasted no time in fleeing the room, with the three adults pursuing quickly.

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

Rayla hurried through the hallways out into the courtyard. She didn’t stop running from the human male with the sharp pointy needles. She didn’t need new clothes. She wanted her clothes, and she did not need some human poking her every time she fidgets and yelling at her when she moves. Eventually, she grew tired of this and just bit the human. His yell made her feel insanely better about the torture he was putting her through.

However, her satisfaction was short lived when she tripped, falling straight into a mud puddle. Rayla froze, looking down at her clothes caked in mud. Her hands shook as she fingered her clothes. They were her only piece of home, and now they were dirty.

Would the humans now throw her clothes away?

Rayla panicked when she heard the humans getting close and quickly got up, before someone snatched her up.

It was the silent lady who made weird hand gestures.

The woman surveyed her critically before giving her a teasing smirk. She wagged a finger at Rayla, which Rayla recognized as the universal gesture of ‘don’t be naughty’ and recalled the woman did that gesture to her before. Rayla huffed, crossing her arms, giving the woman an intense glare. The woman simply quirked an eyebrow in challenge.

“Moonlily! Are you okay?” her female kidnapper ran up to them. Rayla realized the woman holding her and the king’s wife appeared quite similar. Perhaps they were related?

The woman continued to make more gestures with her free hand, the queen speaking out loud, possibly translating for her husband and the stingy man.

“I saw the little one running and tripped into the mud. Seems like she now needs a bath.” The queen translated. Rayla tried making out some words she could possibly know, but as usual, she didn’t understand. Rayla had to wonder why she even bothered.

The woman holding her turned her gaze to her, poking her nose playfully. Rayla squeaked, scowling.

“Common naa y' confusien lammen.” Rayla grumbled. The woman didn’t appear bothered by her foul mood.

“I’ll take her, Amaya.” The queen said, holding out her arms, and Rayla understood the gesture. Rayla huffed as she was transferred to her kidnapper’s arms once again.

The human queen gave her a gentle smile, and Rayla refused to smile back. She knew she was pushing her luck, but they set her up with the human who poked her with needles, and she was still not happy with that experience.

“I’ll take her for a bath while you and Viren cast the spell.” The queen told her husband and the stingy man. They nodded, and Rayla was carried off by the human queen.

She observed she was being carried throughout the castle, and she wondered where she was being taken. The human queen seemed to know where they were, so Rayla told herself to relax, despite the irrational fear they would put her in a cell after all.

But she reminded herself these humans also promised not to hurt her. She could see there was no lie on her kidnapper’s face when she confirmed that to Rayla. If Ethari was here, he would tell her to stay positive and hopeful, and replayed his soothing voice in her mind to calm her.

However, when they entered the bathroom, and Rayla saw where the human queen intended for her to go, all the calm flew out the window.

“N'uma! amin uma il- merna natul- poika!” Rayla struggled in her kidnapper’s arms. She abhorred baths!

“It’s okay, Moonlily! It’s just a bath!” the human queen spoke, and Rayla didn’t care if the woman was trying to reassure her, Rayla was still incensed.

“N'uma alu! amin merna mataya amin dal yeste'!” Rayla protested, grabbing onto the doorframe for dear life. The human queen then snorted, and Rayla glared at her. “Sina naa il- amusien!”

“Oh Moonlily!” the human queen, despite Rayla’s complaint, was laughing. “Don’t tell me you hate baths!”

Rayla’s glare was waspish. She didn’t know what the human queen was saying, but she knew it was at her expense. She tightened her grip on the doorframe. The human queen’s eyes glinted, and she smirked in teasing.

That did not bode well for Rayla.

Rayla yelped when she felt the human woman’s fingers tickling her sides. Rayla hurriedly let go of the doorframe in order to protect herself. Seeing the human woman’s triumphant smirk, Rayla realized her error and her eyes widened in horror.

No! She kept falling for this trick! That was how Runaan and Ethari got her in the bath!

Rayla didn’t get time to escape before the human woman shut the door and removed Rayla’s muddy clothes. Rayla tried the same strategy she had with the human male with pointy needles, but the queen easily evaded her teeth while maneuvering the faucet and filling the tub.

It wasn’t long before the human woman deposited her into the huge tub and was scrubbing her clean. Rayla scowled as bubbles surrounded her entire body.

“Mom?” a voice called as someone knocked on the door. Rayla recognized it as the human boy’s voice. She realized he was calling for the human woman. “The king said you were in here. Are you okay?”

“Just fine, sweetie! Moonlily fell into some mud so she’s getting a bath!” the human woman replied. Rayla took her distraction as a chance to try to escape, but the human woman blocked her attempts effortlessly. Rayla gave her a grumpy look.

The door opened and the human boy peaked his head in. She must have looked a sight because the boy tried to hold back some giggles. He turned to his mother.

“I guess she doesn’t like baths?” the human boy asked her. His mother chuckled.

“You got that right. Why don’t you come in and help me calm her down? She might like you talking to her.” The human woman told her son. Rayla raised an eyebrow when the human boy came into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He hurried over to the tub, and Rayla tilted her head.

“No hurt.” The human boy repeated, and Rayla relaxed her shoulders, understanding the phrase. “My lessons are done for the day. We should play when you get cleaned up!” the human boy spoke excitedly to her. “Or maybe we can go see Ezran? You seem to like him.” He continued to babble in a language Rayla didn’t understand but found herself being less tense as she listened to his voice.

The human woman shampooed Rayla’s silvery white hair while her son continued to talk Rayla’s ear off. Again, she couldn’t help but wish she had someone she could talk to that she could actually understand. The boy’s voice was very comforting, but she wished she could know what exactly he was saying. It was nice to have someone her age around her in this ordeal, but it did nothing to give her peace the way someone who could understand her could.

Rayla closed her eyes, replaying her family’s voices in her mind, the familiar Elvish making her heart ache.

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

I hope people enjoyed this chapter. I hoped everyone was believable in this chapter since Harrow has a tendency to rule with his feelings and Viren is too pragmatic without considering feelings. They’re both extremes and they both bring up good points, but both aren’t entirely right because in reality, there is no easy solution. There is no clear-cut answer and Rayla is in the middle of it.

Translations of Rayla’s words:

Amin delotha sut amin uma il- rangwa mani lle naa ilya sayien! = I hate how I do not understand what you are all saying!

Amin merna an edhel a' talk a'… = I wish I had an elf to talk to…

Common naa y' confusien lammen = Common is a confusing language.

N'uma! amin uma il- merna natul- poika! = No! I do not want to become clean!

N'uma alu! amin merna mataya amin dal yeste'! = No water! I would want to eat my foot first! (she’s basically saying I would rather eat her own foot first instead of getting in water)

Sina naa il- amusien! = this is not amusing!

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kuromantic · 5 years

Text

Whumptober Day 14: Tear-Stained

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848466/chapters/50031587

warning: mentioned abuse

Exam season isn’t an easy time for anyone, Tsukishima knows that very well.

But even then, Kageyama’s crabbiness is unparalleled. He’s growled at the second years on more than one occasion, and acted un-captain-like dozens of times. Nobody thinks it odd, but Tsukishima isn’t an idiot. He knows Kageyama needs to be talked to.

“Hey, idiot captain. Why are you acting like you’re running for world’s biggest asshole championships?”

Tsukishima isn’t the best at confrontation, especially when it comes to Kageyama. There’s less of the resentment they had for each other during their first year, but their relationship is far from perfect. Neither are willing to listen to each other’s criticisms with a calm attitude, however right they are.

“It’s none of your concern.” Kageyama turns away from him, crossing his arms and sighing loudly. “Go away.”

Tsukishima shakes his head. “You have a problem. Admit it. If you don’t use your words, how can we help you?”

“You won’t get it anyway!” Kageyama yells, a little too emotionally. “Just fucking leave me alone. I never asked for your help, okay?”

Kageyama leaves angrily, and Tsukishima rubs the side of his head with a groan. He hadn’t intended to make it go so horribly, but their personalities have never mixed well. It’s not like Kageyama would accept help from anyone, if he could get away with it.

And Tsukishima doesn’t dig any deeper after that. He’s busy with his own exams, and if Kageyama wants to act like he pissed in his milk, then so be it.

“Kageyama, bring it to me!”

Hinata’s spikes are as powerful as ever. The ace of Karasuno- the title fits him, more than Tsukishima would care to admit. His shitty receives have improved over the years, and the freak quick duo have evolved to become the top players in Miyagi- no, the entire Tohoku region.

Kageyama isn’t in top form. His tosses miss the mark more than average, and he stumbles with every receive. But when vice-captain Yamaguchi opens his mouth to say something, Kageyama gives him a look to shut him up.

Tsukishima fights the urge to roll his eyes. He eyes Kageyama closely, while coaching the first years on how to block. It’s not easy, but he’s gotten better at managing them.

All of a sudden, there’s a high-pitched yell.

“Kageyama! Hey, what's wrong?"

Tsukishima's head snaps sideways. To his shock, Kageyama is on the floor, curled up and groaning. He dashes towards him without thinking, placing his arms under him to lift him up.

"Is he feverish, do you think?" Yamaguchi asks, sweeping Kageyama's fringe up.

“Kageyama, when was the last time you slept?”

Kageyama groans, lifting himself off the floor and rubbing his eyes. “Two days ago…”

“Jesus, Kageyama. No wonder you were intolerable.” Tsukishima heaves a sigh, picking him up and placing him against the wall. “Why were you up so late?”

Kageyama leans back, almost slamming his head. “I need to study… for exams…”

Tsukishima blinks. Kageyama, the book dumb captain, has been studying all night?

But there’s no reason for Kageyama to lie. It only furthers Tsukishima’s concerns. He doesn’t know as much as he thought about Kageyama, after all.

“Look, I’ll help you study for your exams. So don’t be pulling all-nighters. No wonder you’re not getting any information retained.” Tsukishima remembers when he’d made Kageyama beg for his tutoring sessions as a first year, but that’s different. They’re on better terms now, and he won’t make fun of Kageyama for his lack of academic skills.

But still, it’s not easy to teach Kageyama everything.

“Right, so when the sentence structure is like this, the verb comes after the noun. You get me?”

Kageyama squints, and shakes his head.

Tsukishima wants to scream. It’s the fourth time he’s explained it through and through, in a way that even a middle school student would understand. But he’s promised himself not to yell or lose his temper, and takes a deep breath to compose himself.

“It’s fine,” Kageyama mutters, “I know you’re pissed at me. I’m mad at myself too. I just- I can’t fail these exams.”

“Look, it’s fine. It’s not the end of the world. We'll figure something out.” Tsukishima reaches for Kageyama’s notebook, and notices it’s tear-stained. A stab of concern hits him. He's irritated at how bad the study session is going, but it's worse for Kageyama, who doesn't even get what he's saying.

Kageyama’s lip trembles, and hot tears drip onto the table. Tsukishima’s words die on his tongue.

“My parents will hit me if I don’t pass all my exams.”

Tsukishima feels the blood drain from his own face. Kageyama’s concern wasn’t about missing training camp. It was about whether he would be abused or not.

“Kageyama. Did you just say your parents hit you?”

Kageyama nods. “I don’t fail on purpose. I’m trying my best, really. I’m just not enough.” Kageyama sniffles, tears running down his cheeks. “I hate this.”

Tsukishima feels guilt seep into his veins. He can't help blaming himself- how come he didn't notice something was right? Why did he never question why Kageyama would invite nobody to his house?

“Come here.” Tsukishima holds Kageyama’s shoulder, pulling him close into his arms. “It’s all right. It’s not your fault, okay? Don’t be blaming yourself for what your parents did to you.”

That’s what really sets off the waterworks, and Kageyama breaks down into his shoulder, sobbing. He shudders quietly as he cries, and Tsukishima runs his hand down his back, smoothing out the creases in his shirt.

“I know. It must have been really bad.” Tsukishima whispers, guiding his hand through Kageyama’s hair. “I’m here for you. If you need to stay at my house until the exams are over, you can.”

“I want to stay.” Kageyama pleads quietly. “I don’t want to go back home.”Kageyama wipes his eyes on Tsukishima’s shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

Tsukishima’s shoulder is tear-stained and damp, but he continues to pat Kageyama’s back until the sobs gradually stop. Kageyama nestles in his chest, resting his head beside Tsukishima’s heart.

“Thanks.” Kageyama murmurs, and Tsukishima lets out a huff.

“You don’t need to thank me, captain.”

Tsukishima kisses Kageyama’s knuckles gently. Kageyama lets out a sound akin to a purr, and he loosens, eyes closing as he snoozes and curls up beside him.

“You’re a huge baby, even as a third year.” Tsukishima murmurs, allowing Kageyama to use his legs as a pillow. He had been planning to get some water for Kageyama after his tears had dried out, but he supposes staying like this for a while isn’t bad either, after all.

#whumptober2019 #tsukikage #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #tw abuse

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imaginethathaikyuu · 5 years

Note

OOOOOOO OKAY so like,, imagine dad bokuto being really overprotective of his princess if she gets an s/o around high school,, like he HAS to meet the person before the date and HAS to know their crime records just to see if they're good enough for his lil baby, and most of the time they will NEVER be good enough for his precious little baby girl

look his daughter needed a name so i just googled “japanese names” and picked one that i think bokuto would pick im sorry if Kosuke happens to be your name too adfjhl

After spending a long week at training camp with the high school team he coaches, Bokuto is more than excited to finally return home to his little family. The family’s texting group chat had been inactive for the whole day, so he had no idea what the two of you were up to.

When he got home, you were both just sitting at the kitchen table - you were on your laptop, and his daughter was on her phone.

“Hello…? I’m back! Anyone home?” he asks, looking directly at you two. You look back up to him, smiling happily, but his daughter still says nothing.

“I missed you,” you say, getting up to give him a big hug, which he returns.

“I missed you too,” he says, kissing your cheek.

Then he walks over to his child, who’s yet to look up at him. He taps her shoulder as he walks by, quickly walking passed so she turns around and doesn’t see him there.

“Whoa, she moved!” he said, feigning disbelief. “You’ve been on your phone the entire time I’ve been home, you couldn’t text me at all today?”

She didn’t respond, instead looking up at you. You just give her a soft smile as you sit back down.

“Don’t you have something you want to tell your dad?”

Her eyes widen, and Bokuto is immediately interested.

“What is it? Did you fail a test?”

“No -”

“Do I need to hire a tutor? My daughter isn’t going to struggle -”

“I didn’t fail a test!”

He scratches his head. “Did you miss another practice? I didn’t pay for those lessons so you can miss practices -”

“I didn’t miss practice either!”

“Then what is it?!”

He’s got his hands on his hips, and the girl feels small sitting in her chair with him looming over her. She looks up to you, begging you with her eyes to tell him so she doesn’t have to.

“Koutarou,” you say, your voice high pitched. He knows you’re about to tell him something he doesn’t want to hear. “Yesterday, Kosuke… had her first date.”

“She what?!”

The room was silent for a moment. You and Kosuke were looking at each other, and Bokuto looked back and forth between you two.

“That’s funny. You two need to stop playing jokes on me - I’m not falling for it this time.”

No one speaks as you look up to your husband.

“Y/N, tell me this is a joke.”

“I’ll tell you it’s a joke if it makes you feel better.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen, and now he looks over to Kosuke.

“Who gave you permission to go on a date?!”

She looks at you, and that’s when he realizes it.

The person he’s devoted his life to, the one he had a child with, the love of his life… had betrayed him.

“You let her go on a date?! Without talking to me about it first?!”

“…Yeah?”

“What the hell?” he says loudly. “I have two rules: no dates, and no drugs. You broke the most important one!”

“Kou, you’re being dramatic -”

“You could’ve sent our daughter out with a serial killer! Or a creep who wants to do creepy things with her! Or a drug addict! She’s not old enough for dating -”

“She’s 15!” you argue. You’re still on your computer, as if this isn’t that much of a big deal.

“Yeah, she’s basically still a baby!”

“She’s not a baby, Koutarou.”

“She is to me!” he pouts. He turns to look at her, but that’s when he realizes she had already left the room - probably upset. “God dammit.”

He didn’t hesitate to go to her bedroom, finding her clung to her pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks her, sitting on the edge of her bed next to her.

“I made you guys fight,” she says sadly. He scoffs.

“We aren’t fighting, come on, we never fight.”

She doesn’t respond, and Bokuto feels awkward. He isn’t sure how to have this conversation - he doesn’t want to. He can’t believe his child went on a date - his baby is dating someone. He isn’t sure how to handle it.

With crossed arms, he says, “Have you done a background check on this person you went on a date with?”

“No?”

“I didn’t think so!” he replies. “I have to do everything around here.”

“Do you really think I’d go on a date with someone who needs a background check?”

Bokuto raises a brow. “No,” he says. “But I think you’d go on a date with someone who isn’t good enough for you.”

“That isn’t true -”

“You don’t think it is,” he says, “but you can’t see it from my point of view. And my princess isn’t going to waste her time with someone shitty -”

“Dad!”

“What?!” he asks. “You’re not going on another date until I decide they’re good enough - now tell me everything about this person, including their address.”

got a dad bokuto request? send it in and i’ll write it pronto

#dad bokuto #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #scenario

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soranihimawari · 4 years

Text

No Risk, No Reward

taglist: @kaidasen

Side notes: part 3 of this tale and well i hope you like some cafe banter and maybe some calculus problems. this was my favorite conversation(s) to write between muda, akaashi, and bokuto, lol.

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ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟛:

18:17

To: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

Frm: ಥ⌣ಥmiserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ

Waiting on you guys to show up and I texted Bo-kun. He said you weren’t coming? What the hell Akaashi? It’s not my turn to babysit him

18:38

To: ಥ⌣ಥmiserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ

From: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

Listen, Bokuto literally begged me to have you tutor him (last minute mind you because I knew you were home right now), Hotaru-san [1/2]

We were in a practice match and he just freakin’ blurted it out of left field after he was called out by our coach for his low grade in the trigonometry quiz this week. Then he went into his “dejected-emo mode,” and to make matters worse, he heard from Kaori-senpai archery club is going to be disbanded by the student council. He got all worked up and every time he kept missing the tosses Shuichi was giving him. Bokuto means well, and he’s a big dumbass because he doesn’t know how to properly act around you.

TLDR: just lecture Bokuto about sin cos and tan today.

18:40

To: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

Frm: ಥ⌣ಥmiserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ

…? Bokuto’s always been the kind one Keiji-san. Did Bo-kun actually catch feelings for me? Or are you just being snarky with that?

18:41

To: ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘blessed_setter keiji┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

Frm: ಥ⌣ಥmiserablerage_muda ಥ⌣ಥ

ISTG AKAASHI-BOKE! YOU BETTER OPEN THIS WHEN YOU GET HOME! >..<

After reading Akaashi’s essay of a text, I propped open my thermos and began drinking the warm tea in hopes of hiding my grin. Oh no, is Bokuto starting to catch feelings for me? Oh crap! I thought. This can’t be happening, bonk that noise. Let’s do some calculus homework!

I nodded my head back and forth like an Etch & Sketch. I then took out my notebook and calculus textbook in order to prep my mindset for trigonometry tutorials.

Once I got into my studious rhythm, I had thoroughly solved two limit equations where one answer yielded “the limit does not exist,” and the other was just a graph of a function, f(x) = x3 − 3x + 2.

I saw a hand reach out for my parfait and I smacked it away.

“Oww,” Bokuto yelped. “I was just going to taste one spoonful Hotaru-chan!”

“You’re late Bokuto,” I mused. “So no parfait for you!”

I picked up my spoon and took another portion into my mouth. The blueberry tartness made my facial muscles contract into a slight pout. I was humming along to the cafe playlist absentmindedly when Bokuto pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. We sat in silence for a few minutes as I let him settle down post-volleyball practice. He took out his notebook and without even thinking, he leaned into my personal space bubble. I had to lower my gaze away from his because I had one final equation to complete before I could devote some time to a proper tutoring session.

“Are you going to be ok Hotaru?”

“Yeah, why do you ask Bo-kun?”

“...,” he paused for a moment before continuing; his silver hair was being swayed by the air vent on top of our table. I smiled gently because I know Bokuto usually has trouble with trying to say many thoughts at once but he does have a particular sweet tooth (i.e. he loves lemon ice pops on a spring morning; appreciates me coming to all the volleyball matches especially if Nekoma’s captain is involved (and the fact that he kept the friendship owl-origami Akaashi and I made for him on his birthday last year). He had a hard time communicating properly, but his body language telegraphed to me that what Akaashi’s text said was true.

“If this is about the archery club being dissolved by our student council, then don’t worry ab-”

“I do worry about you because you’re the coolest captain our school’s ever had!”

“Coming from the captain of the volleyball club that sounds more like an insult.”

“You don’t mean that, right?” His eyes were darting all over the place and suddenly, I wished I hadn’t said that aloud.

“Bokuto, of course I don’t mean that, but have you or Akaashi ever come to any of my tournament matches?” I closed my calculus textbook after I had copied the last problem in pencil in my notebook.

“No, we haven’t. It’s not like we can pick and choose when our matches are either.”

There was a silent rage building in the back of my mind and maybe now wasn’t the time nor the place to say this to my friend, but he needed the reality check since he’s the ace.

“Kotaro, please hear me out as a fellow captain first then as your friend second.”

I closed my notebook and stuck the spoon inside my parfait glass; I pushed the dessert toward his side of the table and he began to pick at the whipped lemon-zest flavored cream.

“OK, Hotaru. I’ll listen, but man! This whipped cream is amazingly refreshing!”

I chuckled at his childlike wonder when it came to beautiful and photogenic desserts. Wait a second, has Bokuto always seemed this handsome in the evening sky? Oh, oh no. I thought. I shook my head in order to tuck those nsfw thoughts away in the back of my mind. I took in a deep breath and on my exhale, I started to stare into the space behind his head where the window to the outside public was.

“I’m the only member of the archery club left in Fukurodani, Bokuto. All my third year senpais graduated in our second year. You and Akaashi were always so busy and dedicated to your own club that you even got to be in the top five aces of Japan. I’ve been to every single match I could because I was able to finish my practices early enough to catch some of the highlights on the evening news.

“You never asked me once when my tournaments were or what the awards ceremonies were like. Akaashi is equally as guilty because you’re always together with the club or hanging out with other teammates during away training camps.”

“Well, those were trips arranged by our coach and managers, but that can’t be helped. Are you angry at me? What did I do wrong?”

“Ko, please listen to me first and you didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t stay mad you (or Akaashi) forever, but I need to say this so you can understand what is making my voice sound bitter.”

He folded his arms over the table and leaned forward almost as if he wanted to receive some sort of praise but with his stare being more obvious now, I had lost my train of thought.

Bokuto is many things to the outside world (loud, kind, ace, etc), but for right now, I needed to level with him as a captain and set aside our mutual friendship for once. When this conversation would cease, would he still want to give it his all on his court? Will my emotions cause me to lose my sense of pride as an archer or worse, his and Akaashi’s camaraderie?

“The student council told me that when the inter-high games start up again for volleyball, I was given a month left to clear out and organize the archery club belongings. My mornings are spent alone on the target fields, Kotaru. I set up and clear out an hour before classes begin because I know the other sports teams need the space.

After my meeting today, Kaori and Yukie saw me sauntering off into the faculty office to let our maths-sensei know what had occurred minutes prior. That’s why Kaori asked Akaashi about me and when I heard you were having a rough day too, Akaashi told me you were going to meet here like we always did for our tutoring sessions.”

I closed my spiral notebook with a solemn face. Bokuto, who is usually brash and fearless was eerily quieter since his voice was softer than normal when he spoke to me.

“I didn’t know you practiced alone in the mornings, if I did, then maybe I would have texted Shuichi or Akaashi to help you. Hell, even if I would have woken up too.”

I reached out to place a hand on his right shoulder to show I had appreciated the gesture, but I pushed my calloused fingertips on to the knots that were forming there. Being an ace is tough work, but being an archer has left my hands “unpretty” with calloused fingertips.

“Did you or Akaashi know that I’m in the top three inter-high archers for our prefecture? Did you know that I have fired nearly three hundred arrows since we gained club captain status?” I inquired. “That’s almost the same amount as spike tosses Akaashi practices with you in like the last four years alone.”

I felt the sting of my own angry tears glaze over and even if Bokuto was maybe three hours overdue for another deject-mode, he got all mopey again because I invaded his personal space bubble without meaning to. He was able to relax a little bit while the tensed knots loosened; I noticed he was looking at my right hand because it was swiftly tucking away pens into my messenger bag pocket. I released my firm grip off his shoulder when he reached out to hold my hand in his.

If this were a shojo romance, maybe this would have been an amazing meet-cute idea to introduce the main couple. However, Nanase Ohkawa did not write my life with the parliament of owls, although Cardcaptor Sakura was the only magical girl manga I truly loved. I actually was more interested in reading more horror manga at this point in my life since I was a fan of early 1930-1950s monster films (cira the Twilight Zone reruns on YouTube) nowadays anyway.

“Your hands are rough,” Bokuto stated in an empathetic tone. ��They’re pretty though. I like how they feel calloused from your bow. Do you want me to hold your hand?”

Smooth as hell, this one, but thick headed when it came to trigonometry, I thought. I shrugged my shoulder and extended my other hand to him.

“I have two hands, Bokuto,” I said. His laughter shook through his entire body. Two of us can be as sweet as we wanted because we were too stubborn to admit that maybe, just maybe, we might actually like each other in the same way as when someone hands you a warm cup of hot chocolate on new years’ eve.

“Can I walk you home like this?” Bokuto raised our linked hands.

“Of course, but first, I need you to tell me what the difference is between sin, cos, and tan.”

#norisknoreward #haikyu!! fiction #fukurodani vbc and archery club #ocs ans ot3s #a gal & 2 best buds #let's write a short story because i'm a hoot

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