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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Those Who Are Kind

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Summary: Siblings are the last thing on Marinette’s mind as she begins her frantic search for Tikki. Really, she can’t even consider them siblings, not yet. But they’re along for the ride, whether she wants them to be or not.

Duke doesn’t know what to make of the current situation.

He’s always known that the Waynes are crazy, insane, even, but he loves them all the same, in the begrudging, cautious way he cannot shake. (This approach has served him well over the years, allowing him to avoid multiple schemes that Tim or Jason typically start up to rile up Damian. From there, everything is guaranteed to snowball. The only time things get really bad is when Cass gets involved.) To him, it’s always been a bit uncanny how similar all the brothers looked, despite the fact that none of them shared blood. All of them had the same sharp jaw, piercing blue eyes, chiselled cheekbones and defined bodies. Only Tim and Damian differed slightly, with Tim having a dancer’s figure instead of that of a body builder or demolitions expert, and Damian having green eyes instead of blue. It’s also disconcerting that everybody the Waynes are more intimately involved with have some sort of alter ego. He often joked with other members of the Justice League that heroism ran in Bruce’s blood.

With the new addition of Marinette to their family, he has to say that he’s been proven right.

A girl who had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes in any capacity other than the fact that she and Bruce share blood becoming a hero. The leader of a team. Fighting supervillains at the age of thirteen.

He’s very, very glad that he was not adopted by or shared blood with Bruce. He doesn’t think he could have handled being a superhero at age thirteen. He can barely handle being Signal now some days, and he’s an adult. The amount of responsibility on Marinette’s shoulders is difficult to understand. To be the sole wielder of magic that can revert an entire city back to its original state. To bring people back from the dead.

Dick is strangely quiet. A car is driving them from a pit stop near a zeta tube to Marinette’s hospital.

Hands down, Dick is the most sane male of the Wayne family, not including Alfred. But there are times when Duke sees the weight that he carries. All the times that he refuses to talk about the burdens that he bears. Moving forward with a smile when he’s in pain. When he gets in a mood like this, he’s hard to read. But given the circumstances, it’s fairly clear exactly what’s bothering him.

“He’s known about her this entire time,” Dick says, tinted windows allowing Duke a glance at his expression, carefully devoid of any telling emotions. “Nineteen years. He kept her a secret.”

“It’s Bruce.” The man is known for keeping secrets.

“Yeah, but Marinette is family. She should have been, at least. And now…”

Now she’s all alone when she should be surrounded by people that love her, praising her for her victory, for how she shouldered so much responsibility at such a young age. But by bringing her to a hospital in America, she’s been cut off from her team, and any support system she should have had is gone.

“You and her,” Duke says, looking for a way to comfort him. “You’ll get along. You’re similar, after all.” After they brought Gabriel and Lila to the a top security prison and sent Emilie to a hospital that couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, they got two files from Tim. One detailing Ladybug and all of her exploits. The second, detailing Marinette’s life.

Duke has watched the videos. Has watched how Ladybug leads by example, comes up with the plan and begins the execution. How she shoulders more battles than she should.

He’s seen Marinette pull people together with a smile on her face, even while she’s running on empty after a strenuous akuma attack.

Dick and Marinette are alike.

“We’re too much alike,” Dick says. “I suspected for a long time that Bruce had another kid that he wasn’t telling us about, but I thought that if he was keeping her away from us, then maybe she’d have a shot at leading a good life. A normal life. Not the one she got. Sabine’s�� Bruce’s biological daughter shouldn’t be somebody like me. She deserves better.”

Duke is acutely aware that Dick’s parents were also murdered, but whatever relation he had with Sabine is something he’s never been willing to talk about. There are pictures in his apartment of a petite Asian woman with a soft smile standing next to him, but whenever asked about her, Dick never gives a straight answer.

“Nobody has the ability to change the past.” Duke claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He sags imperceptibly under the weight.

Well— actually, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities, given the fact that magic, aliens, and metahumans all coexisted, supplemented by the fact that multiple members of Marinette’s team do have the ability to travel back in time, but that’s another matter entirely. There’s not a lot of information on the Miraculous, and all of their knowledge is coming from Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Zatara, and even the three of them don’t know everything.

“But you have the chance to do good by her. Be a good older brother, like I know you are.”

A thin smile appears on Dick’s face. “She’s going to need more than just one good influence on her life. And Damian is better, but you saw how he looked at her when Bruce brought her through the Zeta tubes. Tim’s not going to react well either, and Jason is a wild card. She’s not going to get the support she needs if she stays with us.”

Duke crosses his arms, knees brushing up against the back of the car seat. “The only person whose actions you’re responsible for are your own. Don’t worry about them. If they don’t like her, they’ll just avoid her.”

That’s certainly not true— all of the members of the Wayne family are notorious for going hard after all of the things they don’t like. But... it’s comforting to hear. Sometimes temporary and known lies are much nicer than harsh realities.

She’s gone.

All of her belongings are missing, the IV needle is hanging from the stand, the window open, and Marinette is missing from her bed.

At least she left a note?

Be back soon — Marinette

“Great,” Duke mutters under his breath. “Another incredibly vague, cryptic Wayne.”

Dick’s face turns to ash. “Her legs. Her head. She can’t go out so soon. Hold on, maybe Barbara can pull up some footage.”

“On the bright side, there’s no blood,” Duke says.

“That’s not a bright side.”

“It is,” Duke argues. “She fell in the worst places possible, right on top of that broken glass casket. If she’s not bleeding that clearly means she didn’t pull her stitches on her mad escape out.”

When Ladybug fell, they’re not exactly sure what happened, because the screen showed Ladybug collapsing almost gracefully. When they arrived on the scene, she flickered between Ladybug and Marinette as her earrings beeped. Her legs were slashed from falling on the glass with a seemingly unnatural force— simply falling would not have garnered cuts that large— and her head was twisted at an odd angle, debris bloodied beneath her.

Somehow, the Miraculous Cure seemed to be working backwards. Not from the epicenter out, but rather from the edge of the damage, in. It worked slowly, every mile taking minutes instead of mere seconds. It hadn’t happened before in any of the battles.

It was useful in apprehending Hawkmoth and Pavona, who were still knocked out. But Marinette, even after the Miraculous Cure washed over her, didn’t get healed. Her injuries didn’t revert. There was still a gash on her stomach from Hawkmoth’s cane, still muscles exposed on the back of her legs and blood on her neck. When she was first brought in, the doctors feared that she may be permanently incapacitated.

Good at keeping to her word at least. She came swinging through the window with worry on her face and grief in her eyes.

“I need to go back to Paris,” she says.

Dick will undoubtedly say no. He’s a very protective person, and Marinette is the center of his current efforts.

But she doesn’t look injured. He eyes her stance. She’s standing with no effort, walks with no limp. No hospital dress, no blood on her neck, no bruises in all of the places he was expecting them to be. Marinette does not look like she just faced a world ending threat less than twenty four hours ago. She certainly doesn’t look like she’s permanently lost the use of her legs. There’s the familiar Wayne Brand Stubbornness in her eyes— no way she’s not Bruce’s kid— that tells him that she’s going to get to Paris one way or another, and that they’re either lucky they were even notified in the first place or that she wants to use a resource that they have that she does not have access to. It’s fairly obvious what that resource is, considering that Paris is nine hours away by any normal plane and it sounds like she wants to get there in minutes, and not hours. Duke also knows that if they don’t take what she’s offering now, she’ll use an alternative method that definitely won’t be as nice or clear cut.

He jumps in before Dick can say anything. “We’ll take you as long as we go with you every step of the way.”

Oh, he’s going to get in so much trouble for doing this. Dick is looking at him with his Disapproving Dad glare, and he can imagine Bruce going into brooding silence when he hears that Duke allowed this to happen.

Marinette’s lips pinch together, but she nods. “Where’s the nearest zeta tube?”

Barbara gets Dick’s text and sighs in frustration.

She’s already got her hands full with watching Tim, who’s spiralling trying to find information about the Miraculous, muttering under his breath in the way he does when he gets a particularly hard case to crack. He’s gone through six cups of coffee in the last hour, and he kicked off his research with a combination of 5 Hour Energy, Monster, three packets of sugar, and 10 caffeine shots. Soon, she’ll have to start limiting his caffeine intake, but right now it’s clear that any attempt to get him to stop his research now will fail spectacularly. At least she’s not in charge of Damian and Jason. Wherever they are, they’re definitely on the move and not happy.

She never thought she'd be able to say she’s happy about being paralyzed from the waist down, but she certainly doesn’t want to be chasing after one of the two hellions. Cass definitely has her hands full and whoever’s watching Jason— wait, is anybody even watching Jason? Typically Roy gets stuck with Jason-sitting duty, but he’s been out for a while.

Barbara groans. Jason is probably on his own, wreaking havoc.

Great.

She’ll deal with that later, even though she has no doubt she’ll regret that decision, but if Marinette is gone from her room, Dick needs the footage, and somebody needs to find where she is. The nurse put in her latest report that her legs were almost healed and that she didn’t show any signs of a concussion, but Marinette was in bad shape when she got admitted to the hospital. Even though Barbara doubts that there was any misdiagnosis, given that Bruce sprung for a VIP room in one of the pricier hospitals, in a world where magic and aliens are present, who knows what’s true or not.

“Tibet!” Tim jumps up from his hunched over position for the first time in hours. “I’m going to Tibet, the closest zeta tubes are three hours by car away, but I can get somebody to loan Wayne Industries a helicopter while I’m over there.”

“Sit down, Tim.” Barbara takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Why can’t Bruce rein in his children? Why is she the one stuck babysitting? “Marinette left her hospital room.”

That certainly gets Tim to put the brakes on his movements towards the zeta tube in the bat cave.

“What?”

“I said, she left her hospital room. Just sit down while I send the information over. It’s not going to do you any good to rush into things anyways.”

A quick review of the surrounding CCTV shows that Marinette didn’t travel far, just around the hospital. She’s looking for something, calling out for it, too. Barbara grabs that file and slows it down so she can read her lips. “Dickie? Do she and Dick know each other already?”

A quick text back to Dick reveals that Marinette has already returned to the room and—

Oh, hell.

“Well,” Barbara pushes her laptop away from her, letting Tim watch the files she’s pulled up. “It looks like we’re taking a family trip to Paris.”

Somehow, Marinette almost manages to lose all four of them within the first four minutes of roaming around Paris.

Luckily, their family has an almost absurd amount of luck between all of them (not all of it good) and the person Barbara was half sure she could only find in prison, beating up Hawkmoth and Pavona, runs into Marinette on the streets and herds her back to them.

“Lose something?” Jason asks, arm slung around Marinette’s shoulder, the smaller, younger girl looking rather upset at having her plans thrown off.

“I told them that they could follow me,” Marinette argues without much real bite. It’s not my fault if they can’t keep up, is the clear meaning of her statement.

Again, Barbara is very impressed that the barely nineteen year old somehow managed to shake off vigilantes with decades of experience with ease. But it is, at least, partially due to her disability. Every time she goes out in her wheelchair, her heart aches a little, especially as the civilians she passes eye her with pity. Barbara doesn’t want pity. Doesn’t need pity. She shouldn’t feel anything when people look at her like she can’t keep up, because she can keep up.

Most of the time, anyways.

It doesn’t matter how she uses her tech skills to modify her wheelchair and deck it out with all the equipment she could ever need, or that she can easily get up to speeds rivalling sports cars for short periods of time before the power runs out. When she’s stuck in her wheelchair, she loses the maneuverability she had when she wasn’t paralyzed.

She couldn’t follow Marinette through the alleyways because she was stuck. Barbara was the one who noticed her escape first. If only she were more capable, she could have—

But it’s okay now. Jason ran into her. Marinette is back with them.

“I need to search for something, and none of you can help.” She’s not intentionally being rude when she says it, and if anything, sounds apologetic. Barbara sees the similarities between Marinette and Bruce. It makes a lot of sense that the two of them are father and daughter, when the two of them are so insistent on keeping major issues to themselves. Marinette twists herself out from underneath Jason’s arm, clutching her purse. Her head doesn’t move, but her eyes are wild.

“We can help,” soothes Duke, ever the voice of reason. “You know who we are.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve all either deduced who I am or have been told my identity,” counters Marinette. “Which means you should know why I can’t have you helping me.”

Barbara and Duke exchange pointed glances.

“That’s not really clear to us, actually,” says Barbara. Marinette isn’t moving, but the way her shoulders tense makes her believe that the younger girl is ready to run at the drop of a hat.

A small group of people from the parade on the streets tumbles into the alleyway they’re resting in. They smell like cheap booze and sweat.

“What are all of you doing in this alley?” one says, after he finished vomiting up his last (very colorful) meal. “You should be out there partying with the rest of us! Celebrating Ladybug and her team.”

“Fuck Hawkmoth and Pavona,” says another solemnly, with neon face paint and pigtails with glitter string intertwined. “Their defeat should be celebrated by even the darkest souls.”

Jason, easily amused by their antics, looks very willing to join them. “Yeah Marinette, we should be celebrating Ladybug not—”

As one, everybody looks at the place where Marinette was, just moments ago. The alley is decidedly empty of a small asian girl with blue eyes and pigtails.

“Fuck,” Jason curses.

“Fuck is right,” Duke agrees, placing a hand over his temple.

Marinette manages to disappear for three hours.

Three full hours.

“She’s good,” Tim says, typing into the holographic computer embedded into his sleeve.

Paris’ CCTVs are painfully easy to hack into, though he suspects that the lack of attention to them may have to do with the fact that everybody in the city is celebrating. Policemen, politicians, artists, students, scientists— people from all walks of life are in the streets today, screaming and shouting and being free for the first time in years.

He spies more than just a few dozen people bawling their eyes out within a few minutes. But that’s not surprising, considering how long Parisians have had to suppress their emotions for.

Dick and Barbara are still in the midst of profiling Marinette, trying to determine the most likely places where she’d stop by, either as Ladybug or herself. All of Ladybug’s usual haunts are decidedly devoid of the young heroine, though Tim does manage to catch a good amount of footage of the other young heroes like Carapace and Rena Rouge, who are most definitely in a relationship based on their makeout session on top of the eiffel tower (one of the first places Tim checked), Viperion, who seems to be the only one from Ladybug’s team to be seeking out the crowd which seems rather atypical considering that the hero never frequented interviews or was spotted on news coverage all that frequently, and Chat Noir and Queen Bee who Jason insisted were in a relationship as well, though the rest of them believed they were only embracing each other out of comfort— Chat Noir looks like he’s been crying for hours, and Queen Bee looks like she’s barely holding it together.

Ryuko has not shown up on camera once today. Neither has Ladybug.

The second place Tim checks is the bakery. She is not there either, though another girl is. It doesn’t seem like the girl has any ill intent, but Duke is more than happy to pull up past files to see if she’s been there before, if she has any reason to be there, and who exactly she is.

Just as Barbara and Dick are debating the chances that Marinette would be at Le Grande Paris, she walks past one of the cameras focused on Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Tim has the system rigged up so that any facial matches for Marinette automatically alerts the room. He hadn’t been able to replicate that with Ladybug’s face for some bizarre reason which is why he, Barbara, Dick, and Jason are manually combing through the areas where Dick and Barbar think she may be (magic is why, but Tim has always believed that technology can be used against and with most forms of magic) so it’s lucky that she enters as Marinette.

“Kagami Tsurugi,” Duke says triumphantly. “She visited often when Tom and Sabine were still alive. Potential candidate to represent France or Japan for Sabre in the next Olympics. Definitely friends with Marinette.”

“Thank God,” sighs Dick. “Now let’s get over there.”

It’s truly, truly unfortunate that they set up shop quite a distance away from the bakery.

They take too long to arrive.

Perhaps it was a mistake, telling Kagami first.

No, not just perhaps. It was a mistake. A bad one.

But Kagami was pushing so hard, and Marinette was so tired and so alone without Tikki at her side, without the knowledge that her parents would be waiting for her. Kagami pushed and pushed and pushed about why the house felt so empty, why there was dust on the floor, why the bakery was closed for so long, and where were Tom and Sabine? Why weren’t they there for the team yesterday, when the battle was won, when they knew how important it was to be there for Adrien who had just lost all three of his parental figures?

The moment the words fall from Marinette's lips, she knows she shouldn’t have revealed it at that moment, because Kagami draws in on herself, lips turning downwards, hands curling into fists.

Kagami has come a long way from the girl she was in lycèe. The thrill of victory is still something she enjoys, but not something she needs to feel secure in her place in the world. She has trouble expressing her emotions, but when it comes down to it, she communicates everything necessary to understand why.

With the news of Tom and Sabine’s death, she withdraws into herself, shifts back into that thirteen year old Marinette first met. Logic and rationale thrown to the wind in favor of cold anger.

It’s no secret that Ryuko, Ladybug, and Viperion are the main strategists of their team. Viperion, out of his duty of using Second Chance and his ability to keep a level head in the face of constant death. Ladybug out of necessity as her position as team leader and the power of Lucky Charm. Theoretically, the two of them should have been enough. But over the years, Kagami became Marinette's favored confidante; though Ladybug trusts all of her team to keep a tight hold on any information she gives them, Kagami is one of the few who is able to pick apart a given situation and transform the monsters they face into manageable pieces.

Today, it is Kagami who has broken to pieces. Very angry, razor sharp shards that seek to hurt.

“You lie to the media, tell them a pretty tale of how they died due to a break in. Why do you avoid pinning their deaths on Lila as you should? To absolve a quality woman from guilt?”

Marinette can’t look Kagami in the eyes.

Her parents deserved a peaceful death. To pass on in old age, hand in hand. Not looking on as a family member died, in fear of what would happen next for their daughter.

“The police know. The judges know,” Marinette protests weakly, but without much eight behind her words.

Kagami just scoffs. “Tom and Sabine were kind people. To not tell the media what truly happened— that’s preventing Lila from getting the full force of what’s coming to her. What happens if she gets out of prison one day? Without any real deaths to her name, she could just flee to another country to escape it all. And when another person loses their life because of her…”

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. If somebody else gets injured in any way, shape or form at the hands of Lila Rossi, it’s Marinette’s fault. Marinette gets what Kagami is trying to say. She thinks the same thing, after all.

“My parents would not want their death publicized in that manner.” It’s the truth, but it’s said so weakly that the words come off as little more than a weak defense, and Kagami takes the words and twists their truth.

“You know little of your parents, considering that you’re their daughter.” Kagami stands stock still, not a single extra muscle moving. “Perhaps if you spent more time with them as Marinette instead of unsuccessfully gallivanting around as Ladybug, you’d have realized that Tom and Sabine admire truth above all else, even if it is painful.”

Kagami does not ask a single question about where Marinette was last night, or how Marinette felt over the loss of her parents or when she saw all those she held dear lying still on the ground after Hawkmoth and Pavona’s final attacks. She just purses her lips and sweeps out the door.

And then she’s gone, and Marinette is alone once more.

The bakery is bone-achingly quiet.

Every step Marinette takes creates such a disturbance in the peace that moving hurts.

But she can’t stay here. She can’t stay here. She does not deserve to stay here. Kagami is right. Marinette was a bad daughter. She could have prevented their death, could have given them justice sooner, could have—

And Marinette can’t breathe. She tries to, she tries so hard to, but she chokes.

She kneels down on the floor— Kagami is right again, the place is dusty, because Marinette couldn’t bring herself to use the living room and kitchen without her parents, could barely bring herself to sleep in her bedroom because she knew that her parents were not sleeping soundly in the bed below hers— and scrabbles at her throat, vision coming in and out.

Her legs burn. She knows that during the final battle, her legs were cut towards the end of it, and they should be healed, she should be okay now, she’s better than this, she’s—

Somebody gathers her in their arms. They smell slightly of Lotus flowers, just like Maman, and cradle her ever so gently.

Marinette’s eyes open— black hair, greyish eyes filled with understanding and love and—

She can breathe again.

She falls asleep.

“Cass?” Dick’s eyes widen at her unexpected appearance at Marinette’s home.

“I thought you were on Damian guard duty,” Barbara says, fixating on the red around Marinette’s eyes and the barely dried tear tracks on her face.

“Where’s that Kagami girl?” Jason scuffs his shoes on the hardware floor, silently marking the footprints on the floor and getting a general idea of what occurred before they were able to get here based on Marinette’s current state and the other girl’s absence. “I want to have some words with her.”

Cass inclines her head sharply, eye sparking with anger. Jason’s fists rise unconsciously— Cass rarely gets angry, and whenever she gets angry at a specific person, that means they’ve done something very, very wrong— ready to hunt down Kagami. Marinette sniffles and shifts in Cass’ one armed embrace, to which Cass places a finger over her lip and shakes her head, a universal sign to be quiet.

Jason scowls but settles down.

They’re quiet as they wait for Marinette to wake.

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness @iamablinkmarvelarmy

@emark7 (i will have the edited version of these on ao3 eventually but i think the link to ch 1 on this one works)

where i ended this doesn’t feel very good but ehhhhhhhhhh my writing process is summary then word vomit that barely correlates which means nothing makes sense unless i edit but looking back at my work makes me cringe so at a crossroads yayyy

also can you guys tell which prompts ive written these for because i’m curious

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dad bruce #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #duke thomas #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #barbara gordon #tim drake #cassandra cain #batfam

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Your Heart

Chapter 3 -- Introductions

READ ON AO3

Word Count: 8831

Sleep. Ah, blissful sleep. The Holy Grail Danny had spent his entire high school life looking for, and that still eluded him from time to time. That wonderful feeling when he just collided on his bed after a long day of balancing his secret identity and his civilian one, of ruling over a race whose reputation had earned him the contempt of many, of fighting rebellious spirits...To just let the tiredness wash over and slumber take him was pure bliss.

Could there be anything more amazing?

At this point Danny’s perfect day had evolved from the amazing activities normal people looked forward to ーgoing to the beach with friends, binge-watching an entire season-worth of episodes in a day, ice skating…ーto the simple joys in life, such as getting a full night’s sleep (maybe even sleeping in, if he was lucky), going to the Nasty Burger with Tucker, and just having a normal day.

But, as an aggravating sound would remind him, those days were far and in between.

Twisting around in bed, eyes tightly shut and his face forming a grimace in annoyance, the halfa did everything in his power to ignore that damned noise. Trying hard as he might, there was no turning off the volume of that obnoxious beeping. Giving up, he reached out a hand from under his covers to tap the snooze button.The fucking alarm clock; his worst enemy after Plasmius. And the second most annoyingーthat title belonged to the Box Ghost.

Stifling a yawn with his hand, he got out of bed. Half-heartedly rummaging through his closet, he picked the first thing he could find and went inside his bathroom, having no choice but to start a new day. Once inside, he locked the door and took one look at himself in the mirror, well, as good as a look through sleepy, half-lidded eyes could be. He was greeted by the sight of his ghost form’s nuclear white hair and glowing green eyes. Seeing his reflection, Danny jumped back in surprise, until he remembered the previous day’s events.

After officially meeting the Witch Queen he decided to crash in his lair in the Ghost Zone, too exhausted to return home.

He attributed not realising it sooner to his chambers’ appearance. Soon after he became the Ghost King, he was instructed to create a lair of his own; to cement his current position as ruler among his subjects, and to have a place where they could go in case they needed his help that wasn’t Fenton Works. Clockwork helpfully pointed out that keeping his secret identity from his parents and the citizens of Amity Park would be considerably more difficult if the ghosts had to look for him around town whenever they needed him.

It was also Clockwork who gave him the idea of designing his lair taking himself as inspiration. “Try creating something both familiar and completely foreign; such as your own condition.” the Ghost of Time advised wisely, “Combine things that remind you of your human halfーtry not to make it very obvious, while you’re at itー with the sort of elements typical of the Ghost Zone.”

And hence, he created his lair.

On the outside it looked like a house belonging to the neighbourhoods he and Tucker grew up in, but on the inside he drew inspiration from Pariah Dark’s castle. Only it wasn’t nearly as frightening, just lavish enough to give the impression that someone powerful resided there. But his favourite room was, without a doubt, his own. An almost exact replica of the one at FentonWorksーthe main difference being that this one had its own bathroom and a few large one-way windows he used to oversee his realmー Danny could feel at ease. And, again, it explained why he hadn’t noticed he wasn’t back on Earth. That, and the sleepiness, of course.

Shrugging, he summoned the twin circles of light to surround his body, the familiar, chilly sensation running down his spine. Once he was Danny Fenton again, he stripped off the clothes he’d worn the previous day, got into the shower, and got the water running.

As he showered, his mind raced back to the previous day. In particular, to his meeting with the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. She was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Even with his alter egos, both of his identities were fairly well-known in the public eye. Danny Fenton was the son of Amity Park’s most notorious ghosthunters, not necessarily for their skill or captured ghosts, but his parents had certainly always been very present around town. With their ghost conferences and pep talks, their field trips searching for ghosts around town, that one time they felt like dressing up like back in the 80’s and embarrassed him and Jazz in the middle of the Nasty Burger just because he’d forgotten his wallet…

Between his parents, puberty, and his new-found ghost powers, his teenage years sure were a blast...

And speaking of ghost powers, there was Danny Phantom. The ghost boy that one day appeared out of the blue, first seen fighting a giant meat monster. The public menace who once attacked the mayor. The spectral intruder who trashed Axion Labs, got one of its employees fired, and was responsible for the rise of the Red Huntress...who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it-was-complicated ex-girlfriend. The young hero who valiantly fought against the terrifying, tyrannical Ghost King and defeated him, saving both worlds in the process...only to be then crowned King of the Ghost Zone himself and ignite the ire and distrust of the town whose respect he had just won not even a week prior.

The very same Ghost King who was still doing his best, day after day, to protect everyone from the most malicious ghosts who still challenged his rule. But did anyone care? Well, aside from a, thankfully, ever-growing fan club, if the burn he’d received the other day courtesy of none other than Valerie Gray was any indication...Nope.

Summing up, Danny was fairly well-known.

But the Witch Queen, on the other hand… The only reason he even knew of her existence or where to find her was because he’d found a few pages of Sojourn’s legendary journal flying around the Ghost Zone while he investigated the cause for the numerous portals opening. According to the wandering ghost’s notes, although there were several covens scattered throughout the globe, one in particular had settled in Amity Park after years of travelling around the colonies, fleeing from an event they called ‘The Great Burning’. Although Danny had no idea what that was, even if it did sound bad, what caught his attention was both their abilities, therefore his idea to ask them for help, and the last place Sojourn saw them before continuing on with his own search. He remembered his own eyes widening at the location. A location he knew from personal experience.

The fact that his messenger actually delivered the letter was pure luck, though. For all the halfa knew, the witches could’ve left Amity Park in the centuries between Sojourn’s disappearance and his accident.

Reaching his hand to the faucet, he turned off the water. He grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his lower half while he used a smaller one to dry his hair off. Then he grabbed his clothes from the floor where he put them and got dressed. Combing his unruly hair with a hand, since he had long given up on doing anything with it, he stared at his, now, fully-dressed human reflection.

He looked the same as his fourteen-year-old self, except for the more defined physique that came with daily ghost fights. At least there were some perks to getting your ass handed to you on a regular basis. The only other thing that changed was his wardrobe. It was still casual, he wasn’t going to start wearing Giorgio Armani suits anytime soon (it’d make him look like Vlad), but more grown-up, too. In his sleep-induced blindness he managed to pick up some decent clothing: a baby blue shirt over a long-sleeved, white undershirt, dark blue jeans, and beat-up red sneakers. Not bad.

He left the bathroom after brushing his teeth in the sink. Walking down the corridors on his way to the kitchen, his mind went back to his encounter with Lady Arcana. When he became king, Frostbite served as a tutor of sorts. The leader of the Far Frozen made sure he knew everything he would need about the Ghost Zone and its history to be an effective leader. It was because of his lessons that he even knew who Sojourn was! But, most importantly, it was thanks to them that he learned of the existence of witches.

And what he’d learned about them and what they’d done...it was so horrifying he couldn’t blame the ghosts for having a grudge against them that kept them apart for centuries. Thanks to what he’d read and was told about them, Danny knew what to expect from the spellbinding group of women.

Witches were scheming, often fooling people into making a deal with the devil (figuratively speaking, that is) in exchange for things their clients would never be able to afford. They were selfish: the Witch Queen herself only cared about what happened to her people, never mind two entire dimensions! Much like Vlad, they only showed interest in a confrontation or making a deal if they had the upper hand.

Frostbite had every right to be wary of his decision to ask them for help. After all, not only were the witches malicious, they were dangerous. Even if they lacked the standard ghost abilities such as flight, invisibility, and intangibility; their knowledge of magic was enough to give any ghost a hard time. And it was said that the Queen was the most dangerous of them all…

Danny could definitely attest to that. Although he hadn't seen her in action per se, he could feel an inner strength radiating from her the moment they locked eyes. And the way she fiercely fought for her people's safety only proved that. Even if he really found it selfish that she only cared for her people’s sake, Danny had to admit, it made sense, it even made her a good ruler. The only reason he cared about both worlds was because he lived in both worlds. Had he been fully human or fully ghost, deep down he’d only have cared about whatever dimension he belonged to.

Despite all the red flags and warning signs, there was this part of him who truly believed Lady Arcana (what an odd name) was his only hope. He just hoped that part of him had some kind of clairvoyance and wasn’t just indigestion or something.

“Your Majesty, you’re awake!” A high-pitched voice broke him out of his musings. Looking around, he realised he was in the kitchen and the voice belonged to Dora, his maid. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to eat, so I made everything I could think of.”

When his eyes landed on the food served on the table, he almost had to do a double-take. She sure went all out… Before him lay a carton of milk, eggs cooked in all ways imaginable (fried, scrambled, boiled, Benedict eggs…), over a dozen toasts, a few jars of different jams, bacon, pancakes, around three boxes of cereal, and an arrangement of fruit and juice.

Mouth watering and eyes as big as the saucers set down on the table, he turned to the ghost maiden, “When did you have time to do all this? Did you even sleep?”

The green-skinned spirit raised a hand to politely cover her mouth, chuckling in amusement. “My Lord, you forget we ghosts don’t sleep. So of course I had time to do this.” She smiled at his flushing face, embarrassment for having forgotten about that apparent on his features. “But, please, don’t trouble yourself with such things, your Majesty. Just sit down and eat.”

He did as he was told before reaching out for a few toasts and strawberry jam. He actually hated toast, but then again, that was probably because the Fenton Toaster always made them way too dry. As Dora poured some coffee on his glass, he spoke up, ignoring he was speaking with his mouth full. “I thought I told you to just call me ‘Danny’”, he swallowed, “We’re friends, Dora, remember? You are under no obligation to treat me as anything but that.”

Princess Dorothea, or Dora, was a ghost he met back in freshman year of high school. The first time they met her magical amulet got him in trouble, since it transformed his former crush into a dragon whenever she got angry. The next time they met, though, was when her asshole of a brother was looking for a bride but, being too out of the loop to try online dating, he forced her to organise a beauty pageant with him as the judge. When he defeated Aragon and freed his kingdom, he also freed Dora, who swore to be his ally after that. And the moment he rose as king, she offered to be his maid.

“I know, but what can I say? My brother kept our kingdom in the Dark Ages for 1600 years. Old habits die hard, I suppose.” She defended.

“But you have no trouble keeping up with the current time’s peech pattern.” He pointed out.

Dorothea just shrugged in response.

They stayed in silence for a while after that. While Danny ate his breakfast, Dora cleaned the kitchen. It was usually like that when he stayed in the Ghost Zone long enough to need the kitchen running. Looking at his cellphone, Danny almost spat his food. In an instant, Dora was by his side, making sure he didn’t choke. “Shit! I’m gonna be late!”

With that, he quickly finished his plate with a quick “See ya!” thrown at Dora and transformed, flying around the Ghost Zone until he could make out the Fenton Ghost Portal in the distance. It was still a little early for his parents to be up and running around the lab, so he didn’t have to turn invisible once he reached the lab. Phasing through the ceiling, he was about to make it to the door when the sound of footsteps startled him.

“Danny? Is that you?” came his mother’s voice.

Panicking slightly, he dropped the transformation. By the time his parents came down the stairs, he was nervously waiting for them at the door, fully human. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” He waved at them with a nervous smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Son.” Jack patted his son, who almost reached his 6’1 height, being 5’9 now, on the back. “Did you sleep well?”

“Um, yeah. Fully rested. And you guys?”

“Oh, you bet, Danno!” the Fenton patriarch exclaimed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I dreamed I had that putrid, ectoplasmic apparition of a monarch right where I wanted him; with an ecto-blaster aimed right at his forehead!” Jack boasted, completely ignoring how his son suddenly lost some colour in his face.

Sipping at her own mug of coffee, Maddie chimed in, “We didn’t hear you last night. Did you come too late from college, sweetie? Did you need anything?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Although he’d got much better at lying to his parents over the years (a fact he hated), that didn’t mean he felt comfortable doing it. “Yeah, sorry. It was late when I was done studying at the university’s library, but before I could get into my dorm I realised I didn’t have the keys with me.” He explained, hating the way the lie naturally rolled off his tongue. “I came here thinking I must’ve forgotten them the last time I came to visit, but no such luck. Anyway, it was too late to return so I decided to crash. Hope that’s okay with you guys.”

His mother went over to place a kiss on his forehead, mug still in hand. “Don’t be silly, honey. This is your home! You’ll always be welcomed here.”

Jack came to stand beside his wife, a hand resting on her shoulder. “That’s right, Son. We were just a little confused. We didn't hear you coming in, that’s all.”

“Care for some toast?” Maddie offered.

“No, thanks. I already ate, besides, I’m gonna be late for class.”

“Then don’t let us keep you! See you later, Danno!” Jack said with a wave of his hand at the same time as Maddie said, “Bye, sweetie! Come back soon!” After closing the door behind him, he swiftly hid behind a nearby car to transform before leaping into the air and speeding up towards APU (Amity Park University). He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to be late.

Besides, he’d promised Tucker he would meet up with him and someone he was dying to introduce him to today.

...............................

When her alarm clock blared, Sam lazily reached a hand out from her covers to hit the snooze bottom. As the weariness wore off, she arched her back in an attempt to stretch and barely managed to cover her mouth as a yawn came to her. Yanking her red comforter aside, she got up from bed and walked towards her vanity, getting ready to start a new day.

Flopping down her chair, she hazardly opened her eyes to stare at her reflection. An over-sized Humpty Dumpty t-shirt she used to sleep hanging low from one of her shoulders; her disheveled black hair sticking out in disarray; a clammy, pale face contrasting greatly with the dark circles under her eyes… “Aren’t you a sex symbol, Sam.” She drawled sarcastically.

Well, things could only get better from there. Walking over her closet, she picked out the clothes she’d be wearing for the day and then got into the shower. Once she was out and dry, she sat back down her vanity chair and picked up her brush. People always said handling straight hair was easier, but they were wrong. Oh, they were so wrong. Untangling her onix mane was a challenge fit of Hercules himself, with all the tugging it required; case on point, whenever Paulina or Star had to work on her hair, they always marveled she wasn’t already bald.

With her hair taken care of, Sam slipped on her favourite tank top, a black one with a purple circle in its centre. Then came her pants; a pair of black shorts that were ripped at the sides she complemented with a white belt sporting a skull-shaped belt buckle. After that she slipped on a pair of thigh-length purple socks and her favourite steel toe combat boots; black with a row of three buckles on each side. When it came to accessorizing, Sam opted for her trademark black choker and bracelets and a purple opera glove on her left arm; Star recommended it, saying, “there’s just something so fashionable about asymmetry.”

Last but not least would be her make-up. Sam went for her usual style; not too over-the-top, but not too bland either. And so, she carefully applied a heavy coat of eyeliner and mascara on her eyelids and lashes, respectively; and her trademark violet lipstick. Now, the only thing left to do was the spell.

After listening intently and making sure no one was coming, Sam conjured in hushed tones, “Mutatio speciei.” With that, a swirly mist enveloped her head and, where once were her back-length inky locks framing her face, was now a different hairstyle. While the right side of her face remained the same, her left side was shaved with purple undertones, a tiny green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking out. Her lavender eyes had been replaced by a pair of hazel ones, and due to her hairdo, the two orbital piercings decorating her lower lobe were visible.

Satisfied with her look, she stood up from her chair, closed the door behind her, and descended the stairs to her kitchen. Yes, her kitchen. Not the one at the clan’s manor. While the large mansion located at 917 Maple Street, which the citizens of Amity Park believed to be an abandoned townsend place that could be rented for Halloween (they had to get funds from somewhere), served as her coven’s headquarters, training grounds, and shelter, the relatively lavish home in the upper class part of town was when she was raised.

In fact, every single witch had a house outside of the manor, for it was crucial to keep their identities hidden. Since having purple eyes and ebony hair was a huge giveaway of her real identity, Sam had to perform that one simple shapeshifting spell to make sure nobody ever recognised her. And now that Danny Phantom had seen her face, even if he didn’t know her real identity, all the more reason to be careful.

After her talk with the king of the Ghost Zone, Sam was almost tempted to think he was someone she could trust. Almost. Even with the explanation of their worlds depending on each other to exist, the Witch Queen still didn’t cross out the possibility of having been lied to. Phantom was known for being capable of anything if it saved the day. And lying to the leader of a tribe of magic users was sure to be nothing for him.

Even if he’d seen a lot less arrogant than he gave the impression of whenever he battled a rogue ghost, with all those puns and the constant taunting, he acted rather...humble towards her. He didn’t even show signs of animosity until she tested the waters and sneered at his kind. But that didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down around him anytime soon. If there was one thing dating that lying, good-for-nothing, Hungarian wannabe had taught her, it was that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

After setting a carton of soy milk, a bowl with cereal and an apple down on the kitchen table, she sat down on her chair. Her dad, Jeremy Manson, read the newspaper with a steaming mug of black coffee beside him. Registering movement from the corner of his eyes, he lowered the paper. “Good morning, Sammy. Did you sleep well?”

Sam sent her dad a small smile. “Yes, Dad. How ‘bout you?”

Jeremy lifted a shoulder up, a nonchalant expression on his face. “Oh, you know… Same all, same all. It’s a bit harder to sleep when your mother’s away, planning events. But that’s how it is, isn’t it? While I oversee the company, she takes care of the social gatherings. We’re a great team like that.” He stated proudly.

“Yeah. You sure are…” Sam commented despondently. She didn’t have the heart to see what being married to a witch meant for her dad. Even though Jeremy was a true Manson, being Ida’s only child, the fact that he was a man meant he had little to no affinity to magic, and therefore, he could never be a part of their clan. The closest he got was marrying Pamela, a witch from a lesser family he somehow fell in love with. Neither Sam nor her Grandma put it past her that she’d been purposely hunting him down, since not only was he the Queen’s son, but Ida’s own father had been a successful and wealthy inventor.

Her Grandma often told her the main reason she accepted her mother was because she, somehow, made her dad happy and she’d given her the most wonderful granddaughter anyone could ask for.

Grandma Ida, on her part, always did her best to show her son how much she loved him, but their circumstances made it very difficult for them to spend time together; especially because Jeremy didn’t even know his mother was a witch. And neither did any other man involved with a woman from their clan, for that matter.

Being part of a secret, women-only tradition made it very difficult for them to have normal lives. It was imperative that the coven never died, which meant they needed children. There were only two ways of doing so: either a witch went downtown in search of a one-night-stand during her fertile days, or she used her civilian identity to start a family. The latter alternative also meant she’d have to protect herself and her children from a possible betrayal, hence, there was a special spell designed to keep their husbands in the dark when it came to their wives and daughters’ activities. In the worst case scenario, that is to say, that they’d been caught doing something suspicious or even performing magic, their partner was bound to forget all about it.

That was the reason why her dad thought Pamela was out planning social events for the sake of the company when, half of the time, she was actually in the manor. It was also the reason why he never commented on the way his daughter’s appearance would constantly change in ways it shouldn’t.

“I like what you’ve done to your hair.” He suddenly said, before taking a gulp of his coffee. “Did you use that new eco-friendly shampoo you wanted to try?”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at the way his father, who was incapable of remembering or realising certain things due to a spell, never failed to realise others. Especially if it concerned her. “Yeah. It’s got passion fruit, blackberries, and I don’t know what else.”

“Well, I like it!”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Jeremy started, giving his daughter his full attention with a soft smile on his face, “since your mother said she’d be busy next Saturday, what do you say we go check out that new vegetarian restaurant you wanted to try out, um?”

Sam’s entire face lit up at that. “Are you serious?”

The blond man chuckled at his daughter’s child-like excitement; it’d been too long since the last time he saw it, “Yes, why not? I’m free that day and you’re always saying how much you want to go. So, what do you say? Do you have any extracurricular activities planned?”

‘Extracurricular activities.’ That was what she and her mother said whenever they talked about her role as the Witch Queen around the house. “I think I’m free, too. Sounds great, Dad.” The young woman smiled at her father warmly.

It was ironic, she couldn’t help but think. Due to all her responsibilities now and growing up, Sam never got to spend much time with her father; she was always near Pamela or her grandma. And yet, she was much closer to him, who actually made an effort to understand and encourage her interests ーespecially if Pamela wasn’t aroundー, than her mother. Then again, perhaps it was precisely because they weren’t together often that she was closer to him. Maybe she’d feel as suffocated around him otherwise.

After all, wasn’t that what people always said? ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’?

“Got any plans for today, Sammy?”

“Oh, you know, same as always. Go to class, pay attention in class, go to the library, my...extracurricular activities,” she coughed nervously at that, “come back home, and repeat.” Taking a bite of her apple, her eyes suddenly widened as she remembered something important. “Shit, I almost forgot! Today I agreed to meet up with a friend and someone he wants to introduce me to!”

Sam facepalmed herself. How could she have forgotten about that?!

“First of all, language.” Jeremy admonished her lightly. “And second, then I guess your day won’t be the ‘same as always’ after all.”

The raven-haired girl snorted at her dad’s sense of humour. Dad jokes. They weren’t her cup of tea, preferring witty remarks and dark humour, but they did the trick. Sometimes. “I guess not, Dad.”

“And who’re you meeting up with, kiddo?”

“Oh, my friend Tucker. I don’t think you know him because we mostly hang out at campus. Last week he came to me to ask me for a favour.”

“What sort of favour?” The blond middle-aged man raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“He wants to introduce me to a friend of his. Apparently, he’s writing a paper on a subject I know quite a lot of.” She was just surprised there were classes teaching her subject of expertise that she wasn’t already a member of.

“His friend’s writing a paper on environmental law? Then you probably know them already!” Jeremy stated, setting his newspaper down.

“Dad, I’m in college, not high school, remember?” She sent him an amused look. “Even in regular classes there’s tons of people I don’t even know the names of.” Sam was tempted to tell him Tucker’s friend was probably not writing about environmental law, either, but she held her tongue. Better play along.

“Well, have a nice day anyway, honey.” He pointed at the clock hanging from the wall with a knowing smirk. “You should hurry up, too.”

Following the direction his thumb pointed at, Sam barely held herself back from cursing again. Eating the remaining food in a couple of large bites, she lunged herself out of the house the moment she grabbed her purple, spider-shaped backpack from a nearby chair. Once outside, she slid her arms through the straps before adjusting them. And with that, she ran to the nearest bus stop.

She couldn’t be late.

...................

“Did you have fun last night?”

The bespectacled young man watched as his best friend all but threw himself face-first at his bed on the other side of their room. A groan was all he received as a response. With a sigh, he set his tablet down on the table, directing his full attention to the exhausted half-ghost in front of him. “Could you please repeat that? My Groan-ish is a bit rusty.”

With great effort, Danny rose his head from his pillow, shooting a tired glare at Tucker. “Not in the mood, Tuck.”

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’”. He said before getting up from his chair to grab a mug and pour Danny some coffee. An intense espresso with no milk or sugar. Just like the dolt was addicted to.

Their room was an average one. Two beds, each on either side of the room; a kitchenette as you opened the door to step inside whose only appliances they used were the fridge and the microwave, both college students being way too dangerous to be trusted with their daily food. Each of them had a little, wooden desk on their respective side to work on projects and study, and in the middle of the room was a modest table where they ate.

When they first stepped foot in, he and Danny knew the room would undergo some major changesーor as big as the campus’ rules would allow. As time went by, though, only Tucker’s side looked almost identical to his own room back home. But since Danny often ended up crashing in his lair in the Ghost Zone or back at Fenton Works, that was to be expected. Case on point, while Tucker’s side was filled to the brim with screens, computer parts, wires, and the occasional top secret ghost-hunting project; Danny’s only way of telling there’d been some kind of change since they first got the room were his clothes in his drawers, and the occasional space and rock band poster on the wall. Other than that, it couldn’t be any more impersonal.

When he offered the mug to him, Danny snatched it from his hands like a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert would snatch a water bottle. “Correction: I’m gonna take that as ‘rough night doesn’t even begin to cover it.’”

“You have no idea…” Danny said in between gulps of caffeinated goodness. “Remind me again why I thought organising a meeting with the Witch Queen on a Sunday, knowing full well I had several killer classes the next day, was a good idea?”

“Probably because the rest of your week was booked anyway.” Tucker replied offhandedly as he grabbed his chair and got it closer to Danny’s bed. Spinning it around so its back was facing his best friend, he flopped down, a smirk on his face. “Speaking of, how was it? Was the Witch Queen as much of an old troll as we suspected?”

Turning around on his back, Danny rolled his eyes. “I’d wiー” he stopped himself short; one never knew when Desiree was lurking. Clearing his throat, he went on, “I mean, if only. That would’ve made talking to her easier. But, no! She had to be a purple-eyed, hottie brunette!”

Tucker perked up at that. “Wait, she was hot?” A nod from Danny. “Dude, that’s awesome! Wait a minute. Are we talking about Paulina-from-high-school hot, or regular hot?”

“Believe me, there was nothing regular about her.”

“So she was Paulina-from-high-school hot.”

“No, they’re completely different. Lady Arcana ーyeah, that’s her name. Don’t give me that look; I’m not the one who came up with it!ー has the kind of looks that come with a warning sign: ‘you can look, but if you so much as lay a finger on me, you’re dead.’”

“Okay,” Tucker drawled, “So, again, she’s basically Paulina-from-high-school hot.”

Danny shook his head. Tucker wasn’t there, so of course he wouldn’t get it. “No. If you got on her bad side, Paulina would throw the football team at you. Lady Arcana looked like she could kill you with her bare hands.”

The technophiliac tapped his finger against his chin pensively, registering the new information. “I see, so she was drop-dead gorgeous, but in a literal sense.”

“Are her looks all you’re going to fixate on?” Danny asked flatly, before conceding, “But yes, that is a more accurate way to describe her.”

Seeing as his friend was having none of it, Tucker limited himself to raising his palms up in a placating manner. “Sorry, dude. Just trying to dissipate some of the tension coming off of you. Serious talk, now, though. How did it go?”

The blue-eyed young man ran a hand through his jet-black hair, groaning. “Fine, I guess?”

The techno geek frowned. “Fine, you guess? What’s that supposed to mean? Did she or did she not agree to help you?”

“She did.” Danny nodded, but the uneasy expression didn’t leave his face.

Now it was Tucker who wasn’t having none of it. “So? Come on, man! Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”

“I don’t know. Frostbite has warned me several times now that asking the witches for help might bite me in the ass...Not with those exact words, of course, but you get the idea.” He elaborated as he repositioned himself on the bed until he was seated on it and facing Tucker.

“So you’re afraid that might happen now.” Tucker guessed.

Danny nodded. “But that’s not all. I have the feeling I might have brought this on myself.” Before Tucker could get a word in, the halfa stopped him with a raise of his hand. “I mean, I already knew I’d be risking a potential betrayal the moment I sent that letter butー.”

“Letters,” Tucker scoffed in disbelief. “In the 21st century. Only for that I already have a feeling I would never get along with one of them.” When he noticed Danny’s withering glare directed at him for interrupting him, the teal-eyed young man smiled sheepishly at him. “Uh, sorry.”

With a roll of his eyes, Danny went on. “As I was saying, I already knew what was on the line when I wrote to her, but I had a plan, you know? If she refused, I’d just have to look for an alternative. But if she didn’t, then I would keep my guard up. But something happened.”

He took Tucker’s silence and his raised eyebrows as a sign to continue. “She agreed to come to the Ghost Zone, she and two other witches came to the Ghost Zoneー.”

“Only two?”

“That’s what I said. Anyways, as I was trying to explain the problem, she basically made it clear that the issue with the portals was none of her business and made her way to the door.”

“None of her business?” Tucker echoed in disbelief. “But of course it’s her business. If there’s a problem in the Ghost Zone, that means the Earth’s next! How could she act like she wants nothing to do with the matter?”

“But that’s just the thing!” Danny pressed. “At first glance, it looked like she didn’t know. After I explained things to her, she seemed far more willing to associate herself with me, albeit very reluctantly.”

What was it with his best friend and never making sense? “Okay, so she accepted. She’s going to help you out. Care to enlighten me in regards to what the problem seems to be?” The techno geek crossed his arms, not following.

“I was getting there!” Danny defended. “The problem is that I was supposed to go on with my life if she said no. Well, she said no, and I practically begged her to help us!”

Okay, that sounded more serious, and not only because it must’ve been a huge blow to Danny’s ego. “Why’d you do that, dude? She’d just given you your ticket out of your,” he paused, thinking better of what he was going to say, “of your second death sentence.”

The halfa just shook his head, groaning. “I don’t know, Tuck. It’s just...One second she was making her leave, and the next there was this voice in my head that panicked. There was this...this...feeling that only she could be of help. So, against all common sense, I stopped her and tried reasoning with her. And now I’m stuck working with a woman who will not hesitate to stab me in the back with her magic wand.”

“Whoa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was fate and you two are destined to be together.” At Danny’s murderous glare, Tucker burst out laughing. “I..I’m sorry...m-man! It...it’s j-just...t-too good!” He said in between wheezes.

Danny huffed. “As if! Lady Arcana might be pretty, but she is so not my type. Too brooding, with too many trust issues, and far too willing to kill me for real. The less I have to interact with her, the better.”

Sometime during his rant, he closed his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his wall, maybe to drive the point home. When he opened them, though, he found Tucker’s smirking face. The sight unnerved him; that was not what he was expecting to see. “What?”

“Are you sure she’s not your type?” The bespectacled young man asked in a teasing tone. “‘Cause you just described Valerie, and, unless my memory fails me, she was so your type back in high school.”

His smirk only widened at his blue-eyed best friend’s dark scowl. “Shut up, Tuck.”

Tucker threw his arms up in surrender, the teasing grin never leaving his face. “I’m just saying, man. Valerie has been hellbent on vaporising you with her ecto-guns for years and that didn’t stop you from crushing on her and giving her lovesick puppy looks even after she ‘broke up’ with you for the remainder of high school.”

Danny rolled his eyes at the reminder. “Trust me, Tuck. Falling for the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park would be like falling for Vlad.”

They both shuddered at the thought.

Finally, Tucker decided to let the issue go with a shrug of his shoulders. “Whatever you say. Just don’t forget we’re meeting up with Sam in an hour.”

That took Danny aback. “With whom?”

Exasperated, Tucker rolled his eyes. “Sam.” He repeated. “You know, that friend of mine I met last year in the library? When you told me you might be working with witches to solve the portal problem I arranged for us to hang out together.”

“Okay, now I remember. What I don’t remember, though, is how this ‘Sam’ is going to be of any help.”

“Dude! Sam knows a helluva lot of stuff about the occult! Probably because she’s a Goth…” He added then, as an afterthought. “Trust me, if there’s someone who can help you take whatever the Witch Queen throws at you, that’s her.”

Danny sighed in defeat. It wouldn’t hurt to try. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be on time for once, would it?”

“No, what would hurt is making Sam wait.”

Suddenly, Danny wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.

..........................

The You Mocha Me Crazy was one of Amity Park University’s hidden treasures. While most people gathered at the several Starbucks Coffee establishments spread throughout campus, only a few students knew of the Mocha’s existence or gave the quaint café the time of day.

A small store in the outskirts of campus, near the Law building, the café had more than enough to be the perfect place to relax, or hang out with friends. On the right corner of the store was the counter where people asked for their coffees, with a stand dedicated to displaying the day’s assortment of cakes, sweets, and sandwiches. On the left corner, in contrast, lay a small stage, surrounded by several tables and chairs, that was usually used for the café’s weekly Open Mic nights every Friday. On Open Mic night customers could do basically anything; read their poetry aloud, organise gigs for their bands, try some stand-up comedy… Anything, really. There weren’t organised events for each different artistic approach because the shop was well aware of its obscure status; they didn’t want to attract too much attention.

Summing up, the You Mocha Me Crazy screamed individuality and integrity, which was why Sam was hopelessly in love with the place. The fact that it also had a varied, high quality vegan menu didn’t hurt, either.

“Hi, Sam! Same as usual?” Robert, the barista that was usually manning the counter when Sam went to the café, asked her once it was her turn to order.

“Actually, I’ll start with just a macchiato with soy milk. I’m actually introducing this place to someone and I wouldn’t like to have already ordered without them here.” Sam corrected gently, smiling at him.

“You’re meeting up with someone?” The barista’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he hit the code into the cashier. “Have you found yourself a boyfriend this past week I haven’t seen you around?” He teased her goodnaturedly.

The hazel-eyed witch shook her head slowly with a small smile on her face. “Nah, I’ve been way too busy.” That wasn’t a lie. “Besides, you already know dating is the last thing on my mind at the moment.” That wasn’t a lie, either. “A friend of a friend of mine needs help writing a paper, so we’re going to meet up.”

“Yeah, that makes more sense. I mean, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend when you turned me down.” Robert pouted. For a moment, Sam was worried he might still be hurt over it, but his teasing wink soon put her mind at ease.

She felt comfortable enough to joke around a bit herself. “Oh, please! You say the craziest things, Robert. As if I could ever choose somebody else over you; where would I get free coffee then?”

With an amused expression, the young man set her order down on the counter. “Here you go, Sam. Enjoy!”

Taking her drink, she threw him a quick, “I will, thanks!” and a generous tip as she made her way to a three chair table. Sitting down, she brought her laptop out of her backpack to work on her latest assignment to kill some time as she waited for Tucker and his friend to arrive, taking gulps of her drink now and then.

Her friendship with Tucker was an odd one. And by odd she meant they couldn’t be more different, they couldn’t have met in any weirder circumstances, and they couldn’t get along any better.

Sam met Tucker the previous year, during finals. She was busy studying at the library for her Law and Policy of Climate Change exam when this guy approached her.

He was an African American man around her age. Though he wasn’t what most people would identify as an Adonis, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, just...not necessarily Sam’s type. He wore thick-framed glasses, a white dress shirt under a mustard vest, fern green pants, black dress shoes, and a worn-off, red beret.

What truly was odd about their first meeting was that Tucker had tried to hit on her, and Sam didn’t even try to break his arm! When she told Paulina and Star about it the next day, the Latina was crying tears of joy while her blonde counterpart made sure their queen didn’t have a fever.

She had to stop him in his tracks the moment he tried setting up a date with her in a nearby grill. At the mere mention of her being ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, he immediately lost all interest. Despite everything, though, they started talking and, even if they couldn’t be more different ーTucker was majoring in engineering with a minor in computer science, Sam studied environmental law; Tucker was a bigger carnivore than a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Sam didn’t eat anything with a face; Tucker believed in progress through technology, Sam was all about an ecological agenda…ーthey hit it off just fine. After that day, they often texted each other or hung out around campus.

Today, however, was the first time she’d be meeting his famous best friend and roommate; Danny.

Sam was woken up from her reverie by the chime of the door’s bell. Looking up, she noticed Tucker, who happened to be wearing the very same outfit from the day they met, and a guy who happened to tower over him. Oh, great! She was going to be surrounded by giants!

Once they stepped foot inside the café Sam had told him to go to, which had to be on the edge separating Earth from the Ghost Zone, judging by how far from the dorms it was; Tucker looked around until he spotted a purple, gloved hand waving at him. There she was. Nudging at Danny with his shoulder, he pointed at the table where Sam was at before waving at her himself and making their way over.

Taking a good look at who she guessed was Danny, Sam had to admit, he looked kinda cute. With his unkempt jet-black hair that was either natural or a product of countless hours styling it in front of the mirror; the defined lines of his body, the awkwards yet somewhat assured way he carried himself…

The moment they made it to her table she got up. “Took you guys long enough. Did you have trouble finding the place?” She said as she pulled Tucker in for a hug. Normally she wasn’t one for physical affection, but she hadn’t seen him in over a month, so it wouldn’t kill her to be a bit more affectionate for once.

“Well, we would’ve arrived sooner if you’d told us this place exists in its own place of existence.” Tucker rolled his eyes as he broke the hug, his hands resting on her forearms. “I think coming here should qualify as physical exercise; my high school gym teacher would be so proud!” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye in mock nostalgia.

While Sam rolled her eyes with a knowing smile on her face, she noticed Tucker’s friend chuckling beside him. “Please, Tuck...Knowing Tetslaff, she wouldn’t be proud unless you came here riding a monocycle at the same time as you juggle snakes.”

“Sad but true.”

“You must be Danny,” Sam addressed him for the first time since they entered the café. She held out her hand for him to shake, “Tucker has told me a lot about you.”

“Should I be worried?” Danny joked with a small grin as he took her hand.

The moment their hands touched, however, a familiar sensation ran through their spines. There was something familiar about the, seemingly, natural cold radiating from Danny’s body; and an unexplainable wave of heat coursed through his body the moment he touched Sam’s skin.

Now that he took a closer look, there was something familiar about her as a whole. As if they’d already met. Which was strange, because he was sure he’d never be able to forget a girl with a look as unique as Sam’s.

Before he could ask her, however, Sam beat him to it. “Have I met you before? ‘Cause you look really familiar…”

Somehow, that made more sense. With an uneasy smile, Danny tried to will the embarrassed blush creeping up on his face in line. “My name’s Danny Fenton. The Fentons, the ghost-hunters, are my parents. They...appear on TV often.” Although, in their case, it’s never something to brag about, he thought to himself.

Understanding seemed to dawn on her, for she exclaimed. “Oh, that must be it! Well, Danny, I’m Sam. Sam Manson.”

“As in Samantha?” Danny was immediately confused when Sam’s lazy grin morphed itself into a nasty frown.

“Yes. But call me anything other than Sam and I will bury you six feet under.” Something about the way she said it made him understand she would keep good on her threat. Why was he only meeting dangerous girls lately?

Looking down at their still intertwined hands, an impish grin on his face, Tucker thought it was the perfect time to intervene. “If you guys are done memorising each other’s footprints through physical contact, I’m starving.” He turned to wait in line. “Come on, Sam. You promised this place had food that’s not necessarily green and leafy.”

Looking down themselves and realising they were still shaking hands, the two young adults snatched them away, as if they’d been burned, muttering awkward apologies to each other.

“Yeah, come on...Let me show you what they have.”

As the three waited in line, Danny cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention in an effort to alleviate the sudden tension Tucker’s comment had caused. “Just so you know, I’m not here because I wanted Tucker’s help at picking up girls; I really need your help writing this paper. The topic is a bit hard to find in a school library and Tucker said you really know your stuff, so…”

Sam could only snort at his awkwardness. There was something endearing about his dorkiness, not like she’d ever admit it, though. She meant it when she said she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Besides, cute dork or not, Danny was too...normal, for her taste. “Oh, relax. I know that already. I wasn’t suspecting you of having ulterior motives; don’t worry.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I mean, do you seriously expect me to believe anyone would ask Tucker for help when it comes to picking up girls?” Putting a hand on her hip, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Please, I’m more popular with the ladies than he is.”

“You don’t say.” A devilish grin made its way to Danny’s face, who was looking at Tucker with what could only be described as endless mischief.

Having heard Sam’s uncalled for comment and sensing Danny’s unforgiving eyes burning a hole on his head, Tucker huffed, crossing his arms indignantly. “Okay, okay! That one cute girl did give you her number instead of me. But I’m not going to complain about not being dating material to a cute lesbian; that’s pitiful.”

“Actually...she was bi.” Sam corrected him, almost doubling over in laughter at the sight of Tucker’s eyes comically snapping open. By her side, Danny was doing a poor job trying to stifle his own snickers. “She just wasn’t into you.”

Under Tucker’s withering glare, Danny cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Once he got his laughter under control, he turned to Sam. “Oh, you’re comfortable enough to make jokes at Tucker’s expense! Either you two are good friends...or you two literally just met.”

Turning away from them in an indignant huff, Tucker muttered. “Introducing you two to each other has been a terrible mistake.”

Neither could help bursting out laughing at their friend’s comment. Sharing mischievous smiles, eyes twinkling in amusement, Danny and Sam stared at each other. Maybe they weren’t each other’s first choice for company, but something told them something good would come out of that coffee date, even if it wasn’t really a coffee date since, well, they weren’t looking for a partner in each other. But, hey, they both could use a new friend.

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 10: THE MAN WITH THE FOX MASK (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

He doesn’t remember the first thing.

However, when he was secretly called by the Slate and became "King", he knew that the color of the "King" he received was "Colorless", and he remembers that he was strangely convinced.

He was a transparent man like water. Not individual and flat. He was a person who had few emotional ups and downs, had no noticeable thoughts, was not attached to people, things, or even himself, and was just there in silence.

Why did such a person become a "King"?

He somehow he was convinced that he knew of his ability as "King".

He was able to insert his soul into someone else's body, read and swallow someone else's memory, abilities, and life and make it his own. In other words, it was just water in a large pot to make soup. That is why he was transparent, tasteless and colorless.

He had no interest or attachment to himself. So he left his body without any regret and walked around the bodies of others.

He doesn't remember it well, but at first he thinks he probably didn't have any particular purpose.

However, since he had become a "creature with such power", he continued to swallow the lives of many human beings with the vague idea that such power should be used.

"I wonder if this power can save people." He entered the body of a nurse and thought so.

"If my mind drifts, I can be a genius, right?" He entered the body of a college student, and that was the end.

"Most of the people in the world are stupid. It should be led by a powerful person." He entered the body of a politician and cross his arms.

"To have power, first of all, violence! Fear has brought people down." He entered the body of a yakuza man and breathe.

"Let's get what we want from one end. I can do that." He entered the body of a rich woman and laughed a lot.

"This is strange. This is wrong." He entered the body of a teacher and held his head.

"It's lonely. I want someone to praise me." He entered the body of a lonely child and cry.

He walks through many human bodies.

Many skills, knowledge, thought, experience and life have become his. He started to get a sharp idea and his emotions got higher and lower. Although his capacity was great, as a result of continuing to take possession of the lives of people with conflicting ideas and sensibilities, his thoughts, desires and actions became inconsistent, and his personality as a human being was disturbed.

One day he was visited by a parrot.

"Putting on a mask is a good idea. You are a person."

Said the parrot.

At that time, he was an old man who owned an antique store.

Interrupted by his personality and spirit, he took an attacking action, knocking the merchandise out of the store to the ground and rampaging, not knowing what he wanted to do.

The air outside was cold in late fall, but the windows were open. A parrot with green feathers was standing on the window railing and speaking in fluent words that could not be considered as a bird.

He should put on a mask.

"Who are you?"

The passion that had made him rampage like crazy until then subsided, and he asked calmly as he watched the strange parrot.

The parrot inclined its head in a strangely human gesture.

"I'm a passing advisor. You seem to be in trouble, so I called you. It's advice."

"What does it mean to put on a mask?"

The parrot makes a rattling noise and spreads its wings. It was very similar to how an exaggerated person extends his hands.

"Now you are unable to unify your will and your actions. This is the price of your great power. As a result of assimilating all human memory, your memory has been altered."

"Other than that, I don't regret anything in my memory."

"Still, it would be a problem if you couldn't define 'who you are'. You're just a bankrupt person. Without you, you have no purpose."

The parrot who spoke softly, did not take his eyes off his emotionless eyes.

"What do you do with a mask?"

"I entrust 'myself' to the mask. That mask will become your faceless face, and it will be a good idea to assemble the ego that is being photographed."

He silently stares at the parrot for a while, and suddenly he looks down at a point in the messy shop.

There was a fox mask that fell on the tea utensils that broke on the floor.

He reached out and lifted the fox mask, staring at the elongated, eerily cut eye hole.

The "King" fox, who is bad for others, is a source of the fox. He felt it was a good match for him.

(This is the face of "myself".)

That perception mysteriously fell on him and became the outline of his shyness.

He raised the fox mask to his face and looked at the parrot.

"I am the Seventh King, the 'Colorless King'."

"Fufu.", Laughed the parrot.

"Nice to meet you," Colorless King ". What is your dream?"

There were various thoughts and voices in him. Soft voices used to be quiet, lost to loud and violent voices and became inaudible. He heard many inner voices and shook the baton like a conductor to combine those voices into a piece of music and put it in his own thoughts.

"I will be the strongest 'King'."

After that, the parrot became kind to him.

He gave him various information and advice when he started acting to become the strongest "King".

It was fun talking to the parrot about his ambitions and acting like him.

"The meaning of my birth was probably to unite the world. I am a recipient that accepts the whole world."

"I see. It's an interesting idea."

"The King does not need seven people, and I will swallow all of his power, skill, experience, memory, and thought, and unite him."

"That's your way. I understand."

The parrot disagreed with his words, but showed understanding.

He took the sincerity of this parrot to simply listen and understand that that was his chosen path, rather than a weak empathy.

"There are four 'Kings' that we know where they are now. The first king, the 'Silver King', who is still flying in the sky in an airship. The second king, the 'Golden King', who lives in the huge Mihashira tower. In Shizume, there is the third king, the 'Red King', who lives in a bar. And the fourth king, who has a camp in Tsubakimon, the 'Blue King'."

He licked his tongue, wondering where to start.

"The "Golden King" is still a bit overloaded. It will be difficult if you don't get the power of another "King" before sneaking into the stronger "King". The powers of the "Red King" and "Blue King" are similar, but the red is unbalanced. Between these two people, the red could be broken."

"I agree. We are going to come up with a strategy for that."

"Oh, but before the red, it is better to start with the easy part."

"The easy part?"

"The only king of his kind, the 'Silver King'. I think he's no longer motivated to play the 'King'. It's better for him if he gets it right away."

The parrot was a bit quiet.

"But it's also the beginning of the Dresden Slate. Don't let your guard down."

"My power is effective in humans who have a void in their hearts. The "Silver King" has abandoned the responsibility of the "King" and has been fleeing all the time. My heart is empty. For me, he is the easiest person. to catch."

Also, the attributes of "Silver King" are not modified. In other words, basically, he will be the strongest body that will not get hurt or die. He argued that once he had that power, it would be much easier to eat another "King".

"Okay, so it's a good idea to plan in parallel the contact with the 'Silver King' and the trembling of the 'Red King'."

When the parrot decided to take over from the "Silver King", the parrot seemed eager to cooperate with him, although at first he was a bit reluctant.

By carrying out the plan, the parrot even gave him a nice body as a gift.

A harmless boy with a pretty face and a simple identity.

"As he is an unaffiliated child, you can use it however you want and it will not cause you any inconvenience. I have tampered with the information and erased the public records, so it is unlikely that you will be caught by a public institution."

The boy's body was in good shape. He sang with his body. A song of delight. It was a song of joy.

He was ready. The necessary tools, including firearms and bombs, were collected on the way through the body and stored in various hiding places. The body of the mob was useful for collecting tools, but it was inconvenient for them to live after using them, so, he kill some of them when he leave their bodies. He killed them, but no one needed to cry, since all the memories and experiences of them were stored in him.

The parrot had never denounced or denied his actions. He was just there, taking care of him and giving him advice and information if he asked. For him, the parrot was the only "friend of the outside world."

"Hey, parrot."

The night before the decision, he told the parrot.

"The 'King' creates the Clansmans, right?"

"As for the presence or absence of Clansman and the amount, it depends on the 'King', but basically it is affirmative."

"Why don't you become my clan member?"

It was a funny word. But it's not that he wasn't serious.

The parrot rolled its eyes and bowed its head.

"I can't do that. Didn't you notice?"

"No. I noticed. Are you also a 'King'? 'Green King', Nagare Hisui."

There was no reason not to notice. In the first place, it was clear that he was not the only one who felt and he contacted the awakening of the "Colorless King", which not even the Golden clan could capture, and now he had this parrot ready. He was in the body of a young boy. All the memories of the boy were inherited by him. This boy was a user of an SNS called "Jungle" operated by the "Green King", and a game in which he actually completed missions issued from him and received points, a game in which many people are crazy behind the scenes. He knew, of course, that it was one of the more well-known games, and he kidnapped the boy in the first place because he was invited to an unpopular place called a mission.

The boy who possessed this body was a transparent boy who had little connection with people, like air, like water.

He felt that this boy looked a bit like the original me that he had forgotten about.

Just as the boy, who was not interested in interacting with people, was still looking for some connection with the peculiar social network "Jungle", he could have looked for something in the parrot.

"I just said it. I sent three people thinking that it would be fine if there was one person who could see me from the outside."

"Are you dreaming of putting the world in you? Don't get halfway there."

The parrot simply replied, spreading its green wings.

"You and I are walking different paths and dreaming differently. You were very interesting and I helped you because it was perfect for the basis of my dream. It is a unit of interest."

"Oh."

"In order for you to capture all the 'Kings' and become the strongest 'King', you will eventually have to fight me. So, let's play a good game."

The parrot's eyes were directly directed at him, not reflecting his emotions.

"Then, goodbye."

There was a creak.

The green feathers that flew fluttered in the air to his feet.

"Hey."

He called involuntarily, looking at the parrot, which flew away and got smaller.

The parrot, who appeared when he was about to destroy his ego, put a face on him, listened to his ambitions and gave him an answer, he was terribly gone.

Being left alone, he felt asexually reluctant.

He felt that the lonely child in him was crying "alone".

"Hey."

He calls back to empty space. At that moment,

"What?"

There was a voice to answer.

It was a voice that came out of his mouth, there was no one.

Oh, yeah, it felt like a revelation.

He was not alone. Even if he had only one body, he was filled with the greatest abundance. There was a world in his body. He lifts the world.

He heard the voices of the many personalities within him, but before the voices confused him and broke his ego, he covered his face with the fox mask.

"I am the Seventh King, the 'Colorless King'. A human being who accepts all 'Kings', gains all power, knows everything and becomes the world itself."

It felt clear in his head.

He grabbed the pistol he had prepared and stroked the black barrel with his slender fingers.

"Let's step forward. First of all, as the first stone to destroy the 'Red King', let's kill Totsuka Tatara, an executive of the Red clan who is also a plug of the 'Red King'."

Then, he will go to see the "Silver King".

Once he has the immutable defense and the flame of destruction, he will no longer be afraid.

Making a smile under the fox mask, he also sang a song of joy.

++++++++++

"Damn!"

He attacked the "Red King" and, on the contrary, he was bitten and jumped out of the room in anger.

Immediately afterwards, Suoh's flames, which were chasing his power, exploded and the force of the explosion sent him rolling down the hall.

The room he was in until now was blown up, and when it burned, the flames consumed everything. The power was great even though it was an attack from a remote location. He clicked his tongue feeling ridiculed.

He thought the unstable "Red King" was weakening in the "Scepter 4" dungeon, but he still seemed reluctant. Nothing is more dangerous than a beast that has some physical strength left.

His forehead ached a little and he touched with his hand. The fox face he wore was gone. Looks like he was blown away. He appeared to have a small burn on his forehead. It is not something he cares about, it is just a temporary body. There is no problem if it breaks.

"Wow! Hey, are you okay?"

He could hear the footsteps and the voice of the schoolgirl running down the hall. When he raised his face, Kukuri Yukizome, a girl who was a classmate of that body, came running up and looked at his face anxiously.

"Oh, I have burns on my forehead! I'm cold! What happened?"

Kukuri immediately wet her handkerchief with water and put it on his forehead. She made a confused look.

"I don't know... When I passed by, the room suddenly exploded..."

"That room shouldn't have been strange, but... maybe a gas explosion."

He reflected, looking at Kukuri, who was afraid to look inside the charred room, saying that she had to contact the fire department and the police.

Perhaps the red clan will reach Gakuenjima before the fire department and the police. The "Red King" Mikoto Suoh must have identified this place by grabbing his tail, which has interfered with his psyche.

It was easy to leave that body and escape before the "Red King" entered, but it was also an opportunity. This island, which is isolated to some extent from the main world, is a perfect place for battles between kings. He was ready to face it.

When the "Red King" arrives, the "Blue King" will definitely start moving. It's a good idea to push red and blue to physically weaken them before eating.

And the mystery boy, Isana Yashiro. The boy, who was alive even after being thrown from the airship, suddenly began living on this school island with the face of a student. He was in a position to be hunted by both the red and the blue, but he can return if this school island turns into a battlefield.

He will have to meet Isana Yashiro again.

"Hey, Yukizome-san."

He told Kukuri, returning the slimy handkerchief to his forehead.

"Do you know what Isana is doing now?"

"Isana-kun...? Um... who...?"

Kukuri turned her head with a confused face. It seems that Isana's memory is not preserved.

"Oh, Yukizome-san, you don't seem to know Isana. Nothing, don't worry."

"Oh, where are you going? Let's report the explosion together..."

"I'm sorry."

He smiled at Kukuri. Perhaps because he wore a fox face all the time, he smiled like a fox.

"I'm busy with a lot of things to prepare from now on. And since only one room exploded, Yukizome-san, you don't have to worry too much."

It's not as bad as a disguise or two disappearing, because something was about to happen.

When the Himmelreich crashed, he kidnapped the boy's body and rushed to the crash site. He examined the body of the "Silver King", who had fallen from the airship, but after he left, his body had no pulse and he was not breathing, and he never woke up like Weismann again.

He left Weismann's body unattended, left the scene before the police and "Scepter 4" reunited, and went to a hideout in search of firearms and bombs to retrieve it.

He then kidnapped the driver of a truck carrying goods to Gakuenjima, loaded weapons and bombs, and invaded Gakuenjima. Weapons are important to him who does not have much attack ability currently, and Gakuenjima, who is very isolated as a hiding place, is unexpectedly convenient and above all, Isana, who is the person in question, was on the spot and was likely to return. After hiding the guns in the school, he kidnapped one of the boys and settled in the school.

It was a miscalculation that the "Red King" was stronger than he expected, but he was more or less within his calculations.

They were ready to start the festival.

Sitting in front of the clock tower, he was looking in the direction of Gakuenjima gate.

The sky above the door distorted and a red light exploded.

"He already came."

A huge sword emerged from the tension created in the sky.

The red Sword of Damocles.

The shape of the sword collapsed, cracked here and there, and the debris spilled into small pieces.

Well, he was impressed that he kept that spirit in that state.

"It's an early arrival, 'Red King'. Well, it's a day early, but it's the start of a fun school festival."

At the same time as his words, the door exploded. The screams of the students echoed.

From the rising smoke, Mikoto Suoh, the "Red King", appeared with a large number of clansmen behind him.

The students were stunned for a moment by the sudden explosion and the invasion of men with terrifying apparitions carrying weapons like metal bats and iron pipes, and then they all escaped at once, starting with someone yelling.

Looking at the fleeing students, Suoh made a troublesome face and developed a flame in his left hand.

He shook his arm with the flame lightly. The flame flew straight towards the clock tower and landed.

"Whoops."

Sitting under the clock tower, he hurriedly jumped out of the place. When he turned around as he evacuated inside where sparks and fine tiles fell from above, he saw the clock tower bend cleanly from the middle, kick up dust, and collapse.

(Just bullying the loud boy, I don't think it's an attack aimed at him, but... he's a strangely level-headed bastard.)

He was alone on the inside, with a cold sweat and a smile on his mouth.

The students, who were in a panic and trying to escape, were left with pale faces, witnessing the extraordinary power and the clock tower that collapsed.

The area had changed from the previous annoyance and was quiet. It is a horror that you can imagine, but when you witness a horror beyond your imagination, people become rigid.

In the frigid air, a man in sunglasses raised a megaphone. Izumo Kusanagi, the executive member of "Homura".

"Hi, keep calm. Didn't you learn anything at school? Don't push, don't run and don't talk during an emergency. It is important to obey those three 'no's. We are not here to cause you trouble. So please remain calm and cooperate. This shouldn't take long."

Kusanagi said with a smoky smile and a soft, reassuring voice, and when he removed the megaphone from his mouth, he exchanged a word or two with Suoh. Suoh seems careless, and now he was walking towards the clock tower that he destroyed.

After looking at his back and taking a breath, Kusanagi turned to the "Homura" people and raised his voice.

"Find the boy who murdered Totsuka, even if you have to destroy this place!"

According to the command, the members of "Homura" screamed. A large group of young men with bad style rioted. He snorted and looked to see if these unmannered thugs could conquer this vast school, but "Homura's" men were unexpectedly well-mannered on a personal level. They began to divide them by hand, and while listening to the students, they began to put them together in one place.

He gently left the place.

When he returned to the school building while he was avoiding the "Homura" boys, the students who still didn't understand the situation were wandering around.

"What's going on...?"

"I just heard an explosion nearby..."

Kukuri, Inaba, Mishina and others huddle together eagerly. He approached them casually.

"Now a lot of people like gangsters have broken through the door and invaded."

In his words, Kukuri and her colleagues expressed fear and suspicion. She maybe she couldn't believe her words because she couldn't feel reality.

However, the school broadcast started to flow at a good time.

"Well, from this moment on, Gakuenjima is under the control of "Homura". I repeat. Gakuenjima is now under the control of "Homura"."

"Lie."

Inaba muttered involuntarily and covered her mouth with both hands. Kukuri supported the one who staggered with a pale face. Mishina turned his face around and looked at the speaker he was broadcasting.

"Students must follow the instructions of our members. As long as you do, you have nothing to fear. We are currently looking for a friend of ours. He looks like the image on the screen. If anyone recognizes him, please report immediately to the closest member of our team."

The hologram monitor in the entrance hall of the important school building, which was sending information about the school festival, was distorted and the video was changed. An image of a boy holding a gun was projected.

"What is this?"

"Oh, this is the guy I saw at the website earlier."

Along with the stunned Kukuri and the others, Mishina screamed. Kukuri looked at Mishina with wide eyes.

"No, it was rumored that it was a video of a murder done as a prank, but I was curious and I kept it. But, it is true that they are looking for him like that. He is a murderer…"

"Why come to our school to find such a person?"

Inaba pursed her lips with a tearful face.

Apparently "Homura" is still looking for "Isana". The body of a child who was his favorite with a cute and harmless face.

That body now walks alone. He still has something to do with "Isana". If "Homura" can find him, it would be better.

Well, that seed is already broken for the "Red King". For Suoh, searching for "Isana" may just be to find a clue.

"Oh, the staff is here! Everyone quietly enter the room!"

Several men from "Homura" ran into the school building and intimidated the students. The schoolgirls scream in fear.

On the other hand, some well-built male students looked at each other and sent signals to each other, and all at once jumped to take control of the "Homura" boys. There were more male students than "Homura", and they probably had confidence in their strength in the martial arts athletic club or something like that. In fact, the boys managed to take the metal bat that they had as a weapon from several of "Homura's" men.

"You are the ones who should be quiet!"

One of the boys barked. However, the "Homura" man laughed. The guys who tried to support themselves turned and kicked with a single kick.

Shouts and echo of marshal. The man from "Homura" did not use flames, but the boys' large bodies flew slightly and fell silent.

"If you follow me, did you say on the air right now that you are not afraid? On the contrary, if you do not obey and make a fuss, I will hit you! Remember that!"

A man from "Homura" said that and took the metal bat that was picked up by a student. When the man shook it slightly, the bat turned red and on fire.

The strange sight increased the voltage of horror from the students. In addition to the fear of simple violence, the fear of the unknown cultivated the students.

"Good.", He giggled inside.

His power pierced people's hearts. He sneaked into the other person through a space in his heart, he shook the other person's heart and opened the door, and made the other person's content yours. Therefore, it is difficult to get into a stable human being.

But now there is no one in this place who has a stable mind. The students were shaking with fear and anxiety, and "Homura" was more excited than usual.

He licked his tongue alone, watching a convenient stage complete.

As the ready meals are lined up, he walks melee.

When the student's body was restricted in his actions and it was inconvenient, he entered "Homura's" body and then entered another student's body and wandered around the school.

Every time he changed bodies, he gained new memories and experiences.

Naturally, he was singing a song of joy again.

The song of delight shone well on the island where elation and crying mingled, and it seemed like an auspicious cry.

He shook his body from side to side, sang a hummed song, and walked down the hall. There was only one voice that followed the melody, but in it many voices overlap and reverberate like a magnificent chorus.

The chorus was the proof that he was not alone, that he was a "King".

(Who will move on? It might be interesting to eat the best ranks of "Homura" here. Oh, but isn't it bad to get close to Anna Kushina? I shouldn't look into that girl's eyes. That girl's sensitive eyes will see through of anyone inside.)

First, he will delve into the mixed environment. The blue will come and start to bite the red, then...

Ping, pong, bread, pong. And a silly sound that was not suitable for this situation echoed, and the transmission flowed again.

"Oh, attention to all the members of our team. The blue dogs will pay us a visit. The groups near the gates, reinforce the guard."

Izumo Kusanagi's voice was heard giving instructions to his friends.

The blue dog is "Scepter 4." It seems that the actors are getting together.

He laughs like a fox. The great delicious song chorus that hasn't stopped yet.

#K #k project #k the first story #k novel

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

His Prophet

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: God AU, romance, fantasy, protective Taehyung, arranged marriage vibes (kinda), kingdoms and castles, and medieval aspects dotted around, royal au sorta

Words: 9.8k

Warning(s):(Y/n is pushed around in one scene, is that a warning?)

a/n: go ahead and blame the GDA for this (and I was listening to creepypastas during work and one particular story’s ending twist inspired me in a non-spooky way). Also, I’d like to say it took 20 minutes for me to find a photo that wasn’t rejected by my computer to make this godforsaken banner.

summary: The royal Sun God of Navern is a complete recluse; the polar opposite of what one would immediately assume of the God of the Sun should be. Being the only God in his kingdom, he stayed within his castle walls- or at least it is assumed. Staff and servants of the palace only see him occasionally in the halls or peering out into the gardens. It was the dreams of one certain townswoman who worked in a small library that he happens to run into one night that changes everything.

The Kingdom as Navern was a prosperous kingdom, even if smaller in comparison to other neighboring kingdoms. Of it’s few larger cities and small towns, the capital city and home of the Navern Palace was named Vicious. The city was home to all sorts- merchants, blacksmiths, traveling priests and devoted followers of the kingdoms single God; any occupation or profession one would think of, it would probably be found in Vicious.

However, what one thing masses defined as unordinary was a woman who could read and write and who was just as intelligent as a man living in a run-down, two-story library.

The bottom floor of the brick build and metal-framed building was filled with bookshelves upon bookshelves of books of all kinds. Fantasy and children books, adult novels of fiction and non, and documentation of the kingdom’s history. Encyclopedias and thick bricks books of words and information that- if it had the right reader- could suck them in with knowledge.

The top story was closed off from the public. Small living space was where the family of the library lived when the store was closed. A small living room with only two rooms and the kitchen was right off the far wall of the living room, not even a wall to separate the two. It was small, but cozy for the small family of three.

In the past, this small library with two small step stools for high shelves and one small ladder used to belong to an old man and his wife. They had a small child, a little girl when the couple was early into their middle-aged years. As that little girl grew up, her father taught her to read and write and would often raise her as if she were a son. She still wore the suffocating dresses and low heeled shoes of a child as a requirement of her mother. Her father had her help him with broken shelves and squeaky doors, learning a good chunk of labor in her early years.

On the other hand, her mother still pampered her and grew her into a proper young lady. Manners and ideals of a woman and one-day future housewife. Cooking, cleaning, chores, shopping, sewing and all the factors that lead to proper womanhood. Oddly enough, that little girl didn’t mind all the things she was taught.

All her talents in both ladylike behavior and otherwise was an opportunity to learn. And if the girl had anything it was craving for knowledge. She greatly enjoyed reading on the downtime she had and would often recommend books to the boys in her grade school- something she would regret as it lead to years of ridicule. She was simply too smart for a girl.

At the age of 13, this little girl lost her mother to sickness. Catching a cold was all it was, but she just got worse and worse and her father couldn’t keep up with doctor bills. Eventually, the sickness claimed the girl’s mother and it was just her father and her in the apartment and the library. 5 years later, when the girl is 18, she loses her father next.

He had been called to help damper out a raging fire in the Nothern part of the city. Some criminals had started a fire in the small prison to try and mask his escape.

The older man never came back to the library, only a messager did to tell the girl that her father had been killed pursuing the escapee. Leaving the 18-year-old young lady, leaving you, to inherit the library fully.

Things from then got painfully stressful for the better part of half a year. Managing the library and your personal life. Trying to get accustomed to running everything by yourself and not letting the snarky remarks of young men behind your back as you hammered loose bricks back into the outside bricks. Working day in and day out and also having to run errands for families in need for extra money kept you busy and balancing your schedule wore you out.

There were many times you thought about giving up the library, no matter how much you loved it. You came close so many times to that decision, but the memories of you and your family always made you rethink and keep the building in your possession. Many men had come along and tried to buy it from you to wreck it down and rebuild something else where it stood- you always declined.

Years went by and as time passed, things slid into a certain pace of ease and you were finally able to live comfortably. You were 24 years old now. Still managing your library and keeping your home in shape, you also stood as an independent woman. No man or person of romantic interest simply because you had no interest or time for a partner at the moment. Besides, the men in the city, or at least your part of it, had no interest in a woman who threatened to be smarter than him. Bruised egos are a lethal attack to men it seemed.

However, there were a handful of women who respected you a great deal with your knowledge and ability to disregard the judgemental stares and comments from others. It wasn’t just men who sneered, but the women who were a bit too rich in both money and unrealism gave you stink eyes. Sometimes the rich women were even more threatened than the men were even when they couldn’t count anything other than bills.

You were busy restacking the shelves with books that had been returned that morning from mostly children and a few older generations. Your dress wrapped around your torso as you wore your corset, looser than a lady should, and the skirt hitting your ankles. You dusted your hands off with each finished task on the white apron tied around your waist. Small, brown, worn-out flats covering your feet. Working all day with heels just would not suffice. Your hair wrapped around your head in tied upbraids. Uncomfortable, but out of the way.

You were more tired than the day before from the dream you had last night. The dream wasn’t frightful per se, but something about it made you jolt awake. Each time you went back to sleep, the same dream came back and the same dream woke you up. It was hours before dawn when you decided to forget any further sleep and just get up. An early start to the day wouldn’t be so bad. It gave you time to take books off shelves and clean them only to restock them- a task tedious but long overdue.

The dream was one set in your city, the city of Vicious. In fact, in each dream you were outside, just walking around running some sort of errand for the local older woman or fetching medicine for the bedridden old gentleman for a small bit of money. And in each new errand and each new dream, you kept seeing the same people and the same faces you had grown up knowing. However, it’s one person’s stature that always caught you off guard.

The wore a brown, long robe with the hood always flipped up. Masking their face and hiding their body, just walking down the path like every other citizen of Vicious. You would always unconsciously think of them as a traveling beggar from some other town in Navern. It was when the hooded figure moved to seemingly lift their head to look towards you when you always jolted awake. Perhaps it was your brain trying to tell you that you woke up because whatever person that hooded figure was, wasn’t someone you had seen before. Without a proper face to register, you just woke up to avoid it altogether.

You never got a fearful or unsettling feeling in your dreams or afterward, so you didn’t think too much of it. However, it wasn’t just that night you had that dream. It was present the night after and further on. Night after night it was all sorts of different dreams with different errands and different people, but that one cloaked beggar always was present. Still not giving you a feeling of discomfort, but the reoccurrence of this dream made you halfway convince yourself to spend some saved up money on a doctor’s trip.

It’s that night when you contemplate medical aid that you had a dream set in a doctor’s den. Sat in his dinky little office, but instead of a face, the doctor had a long mask on. In fact, the whole doctor wasn’t even human, but a giant, humanoid raven with black feathers and dressed in a tailcoat of the most wealthy bank owner. Waking from that dream with a shiver and a line of sweat down your spine, you might actually consider that one a nightmare.

You decided at nearly midnight to go out and clear your head with a walk. It was a late and dangerous time for a woman to be out, but the idea of sleep made you shiver. Maybe some time to clear your head in the quiet nighttime would help ease you.

Changing from one of your father’s old shirts that you wore to bed every night into your least flattering skirt and small poet’s blouse, you threw a shawl over your shoulders. Not even bothering to tie your hair back. It wouldn’t be a long stroll, just one to breathe in the clean air and take in the silence. When you looked out your window, you smiled as you saw the moon shining brightly overhead- even though it was only halfway through the new moon cycle. It would light your path along with the small patterns set outside homes for those who had late-night workers as part of their family.

Inside Navern Palace dwelled the Sun God of Navern, Luos. Luos was a God who was revered and respected, even as a shut-in God. He ruled and took care of his kingdom from the comfort of his palace walls. Any word he needed to hear of, he’d turn to his Water Mirror, a vase with a wide mouth and filled with water. A few taps of Luos’s fingertips against the water, causing ripples and he could see to the furthest reach of his precious kingdom.

He did love him home. Navern was were he grew up as a human with a different, human name when the kingdom was first birthed. His devoting to his home was what caught another God’s eye- the supreme God of all that was known. When he died as a young man due to his efforts in fighting in a long war, the Ruler God revived him as something far greater than human and giving him the new name of Luos and the insignia of a butterfly. Thought, he never forgot his original name- and he refused to abandon it altogether. It would be like throwing the long memories of his deceased parents away and he absolutely would not do that. His original name stayed solely with him as he lived as Luos.

Luos was not always a shut-in, in fact, he used to be rather outgoing and always spoke and hopped around from town to town among his kingdom. But, many years ago, something changed and all of a sudden he closed his doors for good. He wouldn’t set foot outside palace walls and on some days his palace servants couldn’t even get him to go out into the gardens full of sunflowers he so much loved.

He’d been this way for nearly 20 years now. Only the oldest in Vicious have a vague memory of their royal God walking the streets.

It was never announced as to why Luos locked himself away into his own prison. There had been no wars, no famine. Crime had been on the lower side of the scale and he had no negative reputation with his people that was noted. However, he still made the ironclad decision and his people could do nothing to change his mind.

However, it was nearly two weeks ago that he started to question his seclusion. He had grown quite accustomed to his reclusive past couple of decades, but for the past couple weeks, he’s had this feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He’d stand at one of his many grand windows just staring over the castle’s main gates to the rooftops of town across the thin, brick bridge that connected the castle to town over the clear watered mote surrounding his palace.

It had been a long time since he had the urge to go out and see his capital again, however recently it had been the hardest urge to suppress in his day to day, reclusive life. The Sun God himself had changed vastly from when he had first started his Godly duties. The thin, childlike innocent he used to hold in his face had matured out into a sculpted jaw and eyes that had seen many things and consumed more knowledge than humans could take in.

“Perhaps I should select a prophet,” was his constant reoccurring thought recently. The thought poured into his head one night when sleep had been actively avoiding him. He had heard in an old wise tale that when one cannot sleep, it is because someone else is dreaming of them. He questioned the truth behind that because he had not set foot outside in so long, no one had the reason to dream of him at all. He was even more confused as to why he suddenly had the compelling idea to suddenly rope in someone to be a chosen prophet.

Even when he thought about the suggestion, he could never think of a face or name that would fit the title. He felt a nagging in his chest and with each possible candidate he could choose to help spread his word and ideals, the nagging would worsen. It was as if his subconsciousness was rejecting each person he knew within the castle- almost pressuring him to go outside the palace. Perhaps he truly should. Perhaps he should go and venture out into his capital and try to see if a single one person could cure this nagging that had begun to irritate him.

So, late at night when the castle was quiet, he dressed in slacks, shirt, and cloak before he left. Walking out of his room and throw the abandoned halls to the back gates of the palace, rounding around the entire castle to avoid as many guards as possible. If he were seen leaving, the guards would most definitely make a fuss about it and the gossip would spread from Navern’s farthest board lined town before dawn. As far as anyone else was concerned, he still hadn’t stepped foot outside the palace perimeter.

The moment his feet hit the loose dirt from across the mote’s bridge, he took a sharp breath. It was like his soul had missed this feeling of his cities roads. He felt at home already, even after all this time. He flipped up his hood, hiding his pitch-black hair and smiled as he stepped onward once more, a joyous hop in his step. The moon named Selene, guiding his way forward. He looked up at her bright surface and smiled a silent thanks for invisible guidance. The moon was always motherly towards him.

Selene says she doesn’t play favorites, but Luos was definitely a favorite- even if she denies it.

Your stroll outside was a quick as you wished it to be. You walked to the wishing well of stone of ice-cold water in the center of Vicious as you sat on the thick stone of it. The sounds of the water calmed you and the area chilled your skin even beneath your shawl enough to raise your skin in gooseflesh. The wind blew slightly in small wisps, making you unattractively breathe in strands of your hair.

Fed up with it, you took the loose tied around your wrist you carried with you everywhere and began to sloppily tie your hair back at the low of your neck. Not very tight, but enough to keep it from entering your mouth and causing you to gag or choke again.

It was very bright out for it being the middle of the night. Part of you regretting now bring a book out with you. You could easily read a chapter or two with the moon’s brightness this night. You half contemplated going back home only to come back to the fountain and do just that when a small gasp sounded behind you.

Jumping to your feet and whipping around, you were met with a cloaked figure with their hood flipped up. You gasped lightly yourself. It was just like your dreams and now you half expected yourself to bolt awake at home in bed. You clenched your eyes shut, expected your mattress to be pushed against your back any moment, but nothing happened. You still breathed the fresh air, still heard the fountain’s water, and still felt the chilly air of the nighttime.

You squinted your eyes open just a sliver, still seeing that cloaked figure across the fountain. You squeezed your eyes closed against and reached under your shawl to your shoulder and pinched your skin. The top trick in the books, if you want to wake up from a dream, pinch yourself.

“Why are you hurting yourself?” You gasped as your eyes shot open. You had been so preoccupied with yourself that you didn’t even hear this cloaked stranger walk over to stand in front of you. Their deep voice had a silky tone to it and it was most definitely a male’s voice. He stood so close to you, nearly toe to toe and yet you still could not see him under his hood. Just like the dreams, his cloaked figure had no fae you could see. However, you’d never heard them speak before, so perhaps this was some sort of lucid dream? “Miss?” He spoke again.

“I, um, I’m trying to wake up,” you dumbly replied. A reply which made his shoulders shift- the only physical thing you could see as a response to your words. You then heard a small, low chuckle from beneath his hood.

“Are you trying to say that you’re sleepwalking?”

“Perhaps, I’ve been known to do remarkable things before,” you unconsciously spoke back in a teasing manner. You then remembered that to most, and almost all, you weren’t supposed to speak to men so highly. You were a woman of independence and held your head high despite your differences of other women, but the lessons of manners from your mother flooded back into your head. You quickly took a step backward, leaning back and away from the stranger and covered your mouth with your fingertips. “I apologize for my tone!”

The stranger quickly lifted his hand to his chest, palm towards you. His cloak opened to show what seemed like black pants and a white shirt beneath it. Boots tucked into his trousers. You partial hoped he wouldn’t raise his hand higher and demand more respect like many, entitled men would without hesitation.

“There is no need to apologize!” He quickly dismissed. He lowered his hand back down, his cloak closing back again at his front. His pushed forward chest straightened back down as he saw you relaxed slowly but surely. “Why are you running about the city so late at night, Miss?”

You bit back the urge to ask him the same thing in return but knew better than to avoid your basic ladylike manners again. You cleared your voice, straightening back up.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping for a while now. I thought that perhaps the night air would help clear my mind.” You didn’t hear the small gasp he took in.

“Trouble… sleeping?” You nodded towards him, brow raised at his curious tone. He cleared his throat. “When did your trouble begin? Perhaps if you talk about it, it would help.” You contemplated his offer. A listening ear of a stranger who offered willingly was far easier and cheaper than visiting a local doctor. You just looked up at him, head tuning in curiosity.

“Are you truly willing to listen to my late-night woes? Me, a stranger.”

The strange man turned around, backing up to the edge of the fountain and took a seat. He just looked up at you with his hidden face and offered you to take a seat beside him. You relented and even though you didn’t know who this man was and you didn’t recognize the voice as anyone you may have met before, you felt oddly calm. You sat next to him before speaking.

“I suppose it started at the beginning of the month’s moon cycle. When the moon was dark and unseen, that’s when it all began. So, a couple of weeks ago.” You fiddled with your fingers, looking at your lap instead of up at his hidden features. You missed the man’s chin drop as he suppressed the urge to push his palm against his mouth in shock. He just remained still and rotated his hand to silently tell you to continue, not trusting his voice. You sighed. “I normally sit and read before trying to sleep again, but the dreams just keep reappearing over and over again.”

“You can read?” He asked inquisitively. It wasn’t said in a disgusted tone, not even condescending. He was genuinely curious.

“I… can. My father taught me when I was young and it would be odd if a librarian lacked the skill to read her own books.” He could tell by the way he put his hands together in his lap and pushed his legs up to his toes and back down that he wanted to know more. “My father’s library in town was passed to me when he passed. My mother had already died so I had to learn to manage it on my own, but that was nearly 5 years ago now. I’ve put it behind me and it isn’t so bad as it seemed at the time.”

“I apologize for your losses,” the strange offered his condolences. “However, I’ve not known many women to read and write efficiently. Are you ridiculed for it?” He asked lightly as if trying to avoid any conversational landmines. He smiled lightly with a small huff and looked down at your hands.

“I am, very often honestly. Truth be told, I seem to provoke men and the wealthy women of the city because of my skills. I’ve tried teaching children, but their parents berate me. I’ve become deaf to their insults now, however.”

“You’re a respectable woman,” the strange told you. The compliment seemed so truthful it sent you into a small recoil. He chuckled as your reaction. “A strong, intelligent woman shouldn’t be deemed unordinary, but revered as a genius. You all weren’t’ just made for family expansion and chores. Or so, I believe.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter. You pushed your hand over your mouth, knowing it was late and if you were to wake anyone, they’d stalk into the city center with a stick or ladle, shooing the noisemaker away. You missed the small smile the stranger hid under his hood.

“I apologize,” you forced between stifled laughs. He shook his head.

“No need, I think your laugh is beautiful.”

You calmed down as you took a breath to regained your breathing. “I’m not sure where you come from, stranger, but you are vastly different from any other man I’ve met.” He was silent for a moment.

“Believe it or not, I’ve lived in Navern for many years. I’m a bit of a recluse and don’t get out much. I work from home, in a sense.”

“Is that right?” You asked, a teasing hint of skepticism.

“I swear to Luos himself,” He said, cringing at his words. You nodded. You both continued to sit and talk for a while longer before the moon had moved drastically in the sky. The stranger was soon standing, taking your hand gently to help you to your feet. His fingers seemed to linger on your skin as he let your hand go. “It’s getting far too late for a lady to be out. I’ll walk you home,” he offered with no room for rejection.

When you both stood outside your home, the stranger looked through the dark windows. The outlines of filled shelves sketching over his vision. Looking up, he saw a window, probably to your room away from your shop. You removed the thick, cooper key from around your neck that was on a rope of leather before slotting it into the door. Turning it to click it open. You turned back to the stranger.

“Thank you for your company tonight. I really did appreciate being able to speak and be myself without being sneered.” Your voice was soft and filled with genuine happiness.

“I can guarantee that your company and conversation pleased me far more than you. It has been far too long since I spoke to someone.” His voice was soft and calm, you could hear the smile on his face. “Next time, let’s talk inside and in the daylight instead of sitting outside in the cold.”

“You would come to visit me, wouldn’t you?” You teased lightly. You were shocked when he nodded immediately. “Well, if that’s the case, could I see your face?” You gently asked, not wanting to pressure him. He was still a stranger, but you felt so calm and easy about him. You just wanted to see him just once- but perhaps he would decline your request. He had his hood up this whole time without movement to lower it.

“I don’t usually show my face outside of my home,” he started and your face started to fall, “however, I think I can make this exception.” Your fae jumped back up as you bit back a smile of victory. He lifted his hands to open his cloak and grip the sides of his hood. Pushing the fabric back, your smile fell into the face of awe.

He was gorgeous. Long, black hair that brushed passed his eyes. His eyes dark but light reflected off them in specs of the most wondrous color. His hair was curled with waves and framed his face well. His jaw is wide and sharp. His voice seemed to fit his face a far better than you couldn’t have ever imagined. He chuckled at your reaction to his face. He put his hands on either side of his neck before dropping them.

“For the first time tonight, it seems you do not have any words left,” he jested.

You just licked your dry lips and hid your face, trying not to let your cheek heat too much. “May I ask one more request?”

“I suppose,” he drawled. You picked at your fingers, nails tapping together.

“May I ask your name if I offer mine back?” You gingerly looked up at him, eyes looking up first before your head lifted in follow. You could see a small jolt of hesitation at your question. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’d recognize you anywhere even without your name.” He took that as a compliment of compelling looks.

He faltered in his step as he moved to take your hand, raising it to push the back of your knuckles to his lips. His eyes closed gently as he kissed your hand, your mouth opening and your cheek flaring in the cold night breeze. He opened his eyes as you noticed that one eye had a monolid while the other was double eye lidded. He smiled widely, the purest and cutest smile you’d ever seen.

“Call me Taehyung,” he cheered lightly. He dropped your hand, as you offered your name back with a small flustered stutter. Y/n was a wonderful name and fit you perfectly. He watched you go inside and even saw your shadow trot up the back staircase to your apartment. He looked at the top window and saw a dim light of a lantern you had just lit before he smiled.

He did feel a bit guilty for not telling you the name he went by now was Luos, but Taehyung was the only name he felt he should give you. His original name was much less intimidating than the Sun God Recluse, Luos. He flipped his hood back up and made quick work of his way back to the castle. Already impatient to see you again and without him really noticing, the nagging in his chest had subsided.

It was two weeks ago when your dream started to subside. That night you spent talking with Taehyung for so long seemed to take your dreams away. You were shocked when he showed up at dusk, knowing at your library door the very next night. He claimed he couldn’t wait to see you again, so here he was. You immediately let him inside without a hassle.

You’ve been talking with Taehyung for two weeks and you greatly enjoyed everything about him. His attitude was uplifting and even when he spoke about topics that angered him, his anger was justice and the points to support his rage were solid. He was knowledgable and well versed in many things. The conversation never died with him.

You were comfortable with him, especially since he always marveled at your abilities. He watched with awe as you caught you repaired a shelf once, and nearly ate enough for four men when you cooked for him the first time. He could read well but preferred hearing you read to him, claiming to love hearing your voice.

It was no mystery how fast you were falling for Taehyung. The romance was something you didn’t think was optional for you, but Taehyung waltzed into your life at night and wasn’t a creepy serial killer. Taehyung had seriously raised your bar of men’s standards and he probably had no idea how you inside turned into mush when he showed up at your home with his giant, wide smile.

Taehyung also always only visited you when night was falling and always cloak. However, it was early in the morning once when he decided he couldn’t wait another long day to see you again. Sneaking out of the castle was harder in the morning, but possible. Still cloaked and hooded, he hid his small smile from the sun’s shadow. His smile wilted when he saw the corner of your library-home come into view.

You had just unlocked the library door and moved to put the hanging ‘open’ sign you had painted and decorated with Taehyung one night to symbolize for people to come and go as they please. He wanted to smile at the idea of you using it, but the young men around your age coming towards you made his teeth grind.

You had just hung your sign on the front window of the door on the small nail you had put on the door a few nights ago when you felt a small shove on your shoulder. Your dress today hit the ground and you nearly toppled over by stepping on the fabric. Your corset of white pushed the dress against your stomach, pushing your chest up, and your torso felt pain as you nearly bent over in the course that was tight.

You regained balance with a small huff as you adjusted your apron on your front. The two men were two fellow rude boys you had grown up with. They had yet to outgrow their childish bullying, and you doubt they were would. You figured they should just marry each other at this point. With rotten, toxic attitudes like theirs, there is no way they’d find wives.

One man, a small sprout of bone was Lix. The other was a bit broader, but no looker for sure; he was named Horan. Lix was more a verbal fighter, not having much strength when it came to fist to fist confrontation. Horan was the opposite. He was dead stupid, but his power balanced out what Lix didn’t have. It was a poetically stupid match made in some twisted heave.

Lix turned to your sign before taking it off the door and looking it over. A small frown on his face as he’s eyes squinted.

“What awful handwriting!” He crowed, even if your handwriting was a perfect script. “I knew it, women should stick to cleaning and looking after little rugrats,” he spits before he threw your sign with a flick to his right. The wooden plack spun as it descended and hit the road with a puff of dirt. You gasped lightly before you ran towards it.

Kneeling in the dirt, you picked it up, the road sticking to your fingertips and filtering under your nails in grounded, small pieces. Dirt would be pushed into your apron and you’re sure you’d have to dust it and wash it all out later. When you looked at the sign in your lap as you knelt on your knees, you recalled how happy Taehyung looked when it as down. Your eyes began to tear.

There was a small murmur of on-lookers who watched the two men push at you. You knew you had no authority to act out, even if you wanted so badly to shout at them. You’d have no ally if you did, no one stood in your corner. You were alone and the fact that everyone watching and gossiping you get pushed around didn’t move to help you, only proved your point.

You could only stamp your feet and curl your fingers around the wooden, painted ‘open’ sign as you held your tears back. Lix started marching up behind you, you could tell from the dainty footsteps he took. Horan’s was much more heavy in terms of his weight. You could feel his presence right behind you, the looming feeling of this man looking down on you. He kicked dirt at your back, debris mixing into your hair and rolling down your dresses back from the collar as you shivered at the sensation.

You felt pathetic as you just let it happen. You could feel him step closer and the shadow you saw from your side showed him reaching out towards you. You expected him to grab your hair and pull you to sit straight. You just shut your eyes in a panic to avoid anyone seeing your unshed tears.

Lix’s nasty grip never came. Instead, a near set of steps rushed from in front of you and came to halt. A shadow of someone blocking the sun from you clouded your shut eyes as you peeked them open. A pair of black boots were in front of your down casted vision. You could vague hear Lix squawking in pain before the new arriver stepped around you and shoved Lix back. You heard his ass his dirt as he whined. Horan was soon stomping to defend his attacked friend, but soon the stomping stopped.

You lifted your head, turning to your back to see who had interfered. You didn’t know of any townsfolk would who defend you. A woman who was so vastly different from others. Your mouth opened to a quivered form as your tears fell. That familiar cloak a blessing to your eyes.

“Taehyung,” you whimpered. You weren’t shocked to see him, you were just relieved to see you had someone to help you. You cried further when you realized you finally had someone in your corner. Taehyung protected you and he had flipped down his hood. His hair was even more beautiful shining off the sun. You wanted to see his eyes in this light- it was probably more breathtaking than seeing them in the candlelight of lanterns.

Horan remained still, frozen mid-charge. Taehyung glared at him and it was blood-chilling enough to freeze the unintelligent giant in his tracks and even silence the gossip of others. Some even moved to remain their work, trying to play coy as if they hadn’t witnessed the assault without assistance. Lix had picked himself off the ground, not sure where to move to, Taehyung eyes burning them into place.

“Make yourself scarce,” was all he seethed. A threat underlined in his words. Lix and Horan were quick to flee. Taehyung’s shoulders slackened as he turned to you, sitting in the dirt and holding the sign in your arms to your chest, hugging it as if it were some precious treasure. His eyebrows dipped, sad to see your tears. He moved to you, kneeling to rub his palm against your wet cheek and push his fingertips into your hair, combing out bits of dirt.

He raised his eyes over you, looking at the people still cocky enough to keep starring. He glared again. “Return to your duties and mind your business!” He yelled, everyone obeying without hesitation and soon all eyes were off you. Taehyung looked softly back at you before he gently picked you off the ground.

Walking you into your store, he took the sign and set it gently on the window sill. He locked the door once you both were inside. He rubbed your arm softly as you palmed at your eyes, trying to dry them. Taehyung moved to stand in front of you, grabbing your cheeks and bending to look into your glasses, red eyes. He rubbed your skin with his thumb, his large hand holding your head.

“Let’s not open up right now,” he whispered so softly to you. You nodded, not able to trust your voice yet. “He gently pushed his lips on your forehead, his brows crunching as he held his lips against your skin for several seconds, feeling pain in his chest from seeing your own pain. H epulled from your forehead before he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go upstairs. You have tea? I’ll make you some” You just nodded again, following him upstairs.

Taehyung spent that day with you. He cleaned your face and wiped your tears. He reassured you and made you speak your frustrations. He took care of you in a way you didn’t think a man ever would. He made you change out of your corset and set your apron in the wash bin to soak the dirt stains out. He brushed your hair out before he sloppily pinned it up. He stayed by you all day and far into the night. When you fell asleep that night, you shocked to wake up the next morning without a single dream to plague you. Even more shocking, you gasped lightly when Taehyung was sleeping in front of you, eyes shut easy and arm under his head as a pillow.

He never left your side. All that previous and all night, he was there. You cupped your mouth as a wae of resh tears spilled over the side of your face. You pushed your face into Taehyung’s neck, startling him awake as he rubbed your back.

“What’s wrong/ Tell me? Did you have a nightmare?” You just shoo your head as you hiccup. “Y/n?” You cried tears of relief and realization as you finally attempted to yourself that you were in love with Taehyung. So very much in love with him.

He left the night of day two he had been with you. He wanted to stay longer, stay forever if he could, but he knew he had to get back to the palace. One day without his appearance wasn’t odd, many assumed he was probably locke din his room. However, any longer and he feared someone would grow nosey.

He left you that night as you flushed at the kiss he pushed on your forehead. He held your hand softly before he flipped his hood up and ran off. You went back upstairs, suddenly exhausted and fell into sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the murmur outside. You rubbed your eyes, going to your window and opening it. There were people whispering with cupped hands as they pointed to your library. You assumed they were still talking about the debacle two days prior with Lix and Horan. It wasn’t until you came downstairs when you saw two people standing with their backs to the front windows of your library.

Unlocking the door and opening it, the two people turned to you. They were both men and dressed in guard uniforms. They were from the palace and part of your blood froze. Why were castle guards standing at your storefront? You swallowed as you greeted them.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greeted trying to remain calm. One stood forward, holding a spear in his arms as the tip pointed high to the sky. He seemed to be the higher rank of the duo.

“Fine morning, Miss. I do not wish to alarm you, but we have immediate orders to escort you into Navern Palace.”

“What?” You choked. You took the time to look around again. You noticed that instead of all judgmental eyes, some gazes were envious or even respectable. They looked at you like you were some higher being or had some power over them. You crunched your brow.

You were ready to talk to the guards when you felt someone run into your back, knocking you forward a step. You turned around and saw Lix, Horan in front of him his arms stretched out. The bigger man had pushed the smaller and the look Lix gave you when he saw it was you he rammed into was one of almost terror. He straightened out as he stood beside Horan, both bowing deeply towards you.

“We’re sorry!” He cried as they ran off like scared children. Your brows flicked up higher. What in the world was that? Were they scared Taehyung would show up again? You momentarily forgot about the guards until one cleared their throat to gain your attention back. The one who spoke to you scolded his underling.

“Do not force her attention by force in such a rude manner!” He shouted as you quickly hushed him.

“No! It’s fine! I’m not offended or anything.” You sighed when the higher-ranked guards only bowed to you and offered his thanks, the younger mirroring his actions. “So, I’m to go to the palace?” You asked, trying to restart the original conversation. The guards stood right up again.

“Yes, Miss. Luos has asked for you.” YOu gasped lightly.

“God Luos asked to see me?!” The guards nodded. Your mouth grew dry as you swallowed to try and find saliva. You licked your dry lips. “I- okay.” You relented. If the God of your kingdom really did request you there, you had to go. You hoped he didn’t mind librarian clothes and a slightly stained apron. You had no time to change and get ready as the guards had begun to usher you off after you locked your library door.

As you walked with the two men, you watched some children smile and wave you. Some women stared in awe at you as if they knew something you didn’t. Men looked at you in caution as if they were committing a crime if you met their gaze. What possibly could’ve happened overnight to get gazes on you in a totally different light?

The moment you crossed the brick bridge across the mote and stood at the giant gates of the palace, you looked in open-mouthed awe. The castle was a gargantuan wonder up close. It took your breath away. The sides of it were as beautiful as the Sun God it housed you were sure. The idea of you probably meeting the God of the Sun, Luos made your stomach turn. He had been silent for so long, what did he suddenly pop back into the public gossip for? And to summon you of all people in Navern?

You were lead to a wide, open, beautiful throne room. The throe at the back of the room at the end of the long, golden rug and up 4 steps of marble was empty. No God was there. You stood walking closer to the throne and taking in the fabric, patterns, and creation of it. Itw as a wonderfully beautiful chair. You gasped with enough force to knock the breath out of you when the heavy, tall doors of the throne room wheezed open again and a voice echoed behind you.

“Would you like to have a seat on my throne?” The voice so scarily familiar and you hesitated to turn around. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you. There was no way. You heard the echoing steps come closer to you as your back remained towards him. Luos was behind you, that you knew for sure- he addressed this throne you stared wide-eyed at as his after all. You felt him stop behind you, his loom presence burning at your back. “Will you not turn to look at me?” His voice was lower, quieter. You gripped your have stained apron as you took one step forward, putting distance between you and he as you then slowly stepped around to face him.

Your eyes were focused at his feet. He walked barefoot. Golden anklets around his skin. His trousers were black as they were rolled at his shins. Following his pant legs up, his white shirt was long and loose on his body. Following it up higher, you saw a golden robe of printed suns adorn his shoulders and you could vaguely see bracelets of gold wrap up his forearms like guards. A thick golden collar of jews around his neck and a crown of golden spikes sat on the crown of his head. Dramatic and much like the rays of the sun.

This was Luos and as you looked into his eyes at his face, you gasped. This was Taehyung.

“I hope the sudden call to my home wasn’t too alarming, Y/n,” he told you softly. He could see the confusion in your eyes, but you weren’t screaming yet so he considered it progress. You just stood there, gaping at him in silence. He reached out and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, making you flinch, but not back away from him. He smiled softly. “Is who I am truly that shocking?”

You didn’t know how to politely say ‘yes it fucking is shocking’, because the man you’ve been visiting with the past two weeks was a God. You gasped, taking another step backward. He rose his brow in confusion as his hand hovered in the air now. You had let the God of Navern into your rackety all home. You gazed at him in starstruck gazes for hours before. You had told him so many personal events and facts about yourself and you began to flush.

Luos, God of Navern’s Sun had picked your pushed and bullies body off the dirt road just two days ago and had stayed at your home with you alone for over 24 hours. Your cheeks grew darker.

You had fallen in love with Luos and you didn’t even know it.

Was that wrong? You started to inwardly panic. Was it against some scared law of Gods for a human woman who was clearly outcasted from her city to fall for a God? Even if it was unknown to you in the time you were falling, would it be punishable by some degree? Was that why he called you here?! Had he seen through your obvious red faces and stuttering and brought you heard to punish you for your feelings that you should or should’ve been feeling?

Taehyung stepped forward, seeing your mind start to flip. He grabbed your shoulders and pushed his lips against your forehead. Just as he had before. He closed his eyes, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t change just because of who he was. He was guilty of hiding the ruth from you, but what choice did he have? He was a shut-in God only a couple of weeks ago, but now he was determined to change it all. And he’d need the help of a prophet for that.

“Calm down, dear,” he soothed. His warm hands pushed against your covered shoulders and you did start to calm. Trying to ignore your warming ears at the endearing name. He felt you slacken after some time and moved to look at you again, stepping just a bit away from you. “Are you alright now?” You nodded. He took his hand and pushed your hair from your face to see you clearly. He smiled at your flushed cheeks. “Red is a color that suits you,” he teased.

You were silent as you looked at your feet. Biting back a ‘shut up’ because in all honesty, how do you talk to him now? Wasn’t it rude to be so direct to a Sun God. A royal God who lived in the royal palace of his own kingdom. You had to watch what you say and say it all respectfully. Taehyugn seemed to know your thoughts as you felt his thumb rub beneath your ear, his hands dipping under your jaw to lift your head up to meet his gaze.

“Do not change yourself because you see me as Luos. My name truly is Taehyung and everything I’ve told you about myself these past weeks is all truthful. I’ve never once lied and I never once will.” He dipped his eyelids, his eyes pleading with you to believe him. “I don’t want to appear different to you now, so don’t treat me any differently.”

You raised your hand to push over his that held your jaw the other staying fisted loosely around your apron. Taehyung smiled at your palm’s warmth. He watched you take a deep breath through your nose before pushing it out of your lips. You looked up at him warily.

“I won’t get punished for being blunt to a God?” You asked carefully. You were blunt, yes; but you were always careful of your words towards him. He smiled.

“Of course not. Why would you be punished if the God you’re speaking to gave you pardon?” You finally smiled a small bit. One that made Taehyung break out into a smile so large he nearly let out a small giggle at you. The way he held your jaw and squished your cheek combined with your small smile, he almost pushed dimples into your cheeks.

You both stood in silence for a while before Taehyung dropped his hands from your jaw and moved to hold your hands in his. Threading his fingers with yours. He was affectionate before, sure. He would often plop his head into your lap as you read to him and of course he slept beside you that one night he decided not to leave your side. However, his laced fingers with your brought warmth to your chest.

“Do you remember when you talked to me about your dreams that first night we met?” You nodded. “You remember when you explained that the hooded figure would always appear and you’d wake up?” You nodded again, not sure where he was going with this. “Well, I think that actually was me.” You lightly breathed in an air of confusion. “Sometimes,” he began, “humans are born with something close to supernatural powers. Some can move objects without physical touch, some can see pasts and futures of people, others can even control the mind of others. Then, there are some like you, who are shown prophetic dreams of things to come.”

“Come to think,” you started with a raising brow, “my dreams did stop after that first night we met. I just thought it was because I finally talked about them. However, you’re saying-”

“I believe you were meant to have those dreams and you were meant to meet me that night. That night I felt like I met someone I was always destined to. Prior to that, I had this nagging in my chest,” he lifted his hand to push against his torso, “and it compelled me to go out into town. It cannot be coincidental that I met you that and the nagging abandoned me.”

Taehyung stopped his talking before he looked over your shoulder. He took your intertwined hands and moved to drag you towards his throne. Helping you to not trip up the marble steps, he soon stood with you at his throne of gold. He held your hands tightly.

“Navern is my precious kingdom I care so much for. I’ve had my time of being reclused and I need to go back into my kingdom and reclaim it with new eyes. I cannot do that on my own. I need someone to help me and to help keep me balanced and straight. They will also help keep my words strong to my people who believe in me and my Sun.” He took a deep breath before he removed on hand from yours and took to his pocket, pulling a scarlet red sash from his trousers that had a hair comb wrapped inside of it.

It was a beautiful piece. A golden frame with solid, silver teeth with gaps made to avoid severe tugging of the hair. You slowly reached out with the hand not held by Taehyung as you ran your fingers over its heavy glory.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him as he smiled.

“I know. It belonged to my mother. A long, long time ago.” You looked up at him with a bit of sadness in your eyes. You knew how he loved his parents, he had told you all about them one night and got a bit more emotional than he’d like to admit recalling so many memories. “I want you to have this now.”

“What?” You breathed.

“Y/n,” he put the comb and it’s scarlet fabric in your open palm before he brought your other hand up to sandwich the comb in your hands. His hands around your own before he lifted them to his forehead. “I want you to help me regain the social regime I have let die. I want you to wake up in this palace day by day with me. I want you to stay here and use this comb as you stay with me as my chosen Prophet.” His voice cracked like he was going to cry admitting it all. “I’ve never-,” he took a breath, “I’ve never been in love before. I died too young so long ago I never experienced it. However, I know now I’m positive that I’m falling in love with you.”

Your breath was sucked out of your lungs like a vacuum because of his words. “Do,” you started small, gaining his attention as he looked at you, lowering your hands back down, still holding them tightly. The comb’s cold material warming in your palms. “Do you really mean all of that?” You squeaked.

He nodded so quickly as he took a step closer. His nose was inches from you as he looked down at you. His feet stood between your shoes as he looked back and forth between your eyes. He truly was a beautiful man. “Yes. I swear, I-I mean everything.” He was so fearful you’d say no to him. What would he do if you left this palace and didn’t take his words with you? Would he still be able to visit you in town at the library? Would you avoid him? Shun him? He was scared of the negatives.

“What would happen to the library?” You asked softly. He knew it was important to you. Rundown and aged, yes, but it’s the place you spent your life with your family before they were gone. Taehyung wouldn’t let anything happen to that small, cramped home of yours. He loved it just as much as you. It’s where he spent so much time with you and learned so much about you. Where he ate with you and comforted you and slept beside you.

Taehyung loved that library.

“I’d keep it safe. I don’t want anything to happen to that library or your apartment you claim. It’s so precious to me now. I’d make sure no one got inside it to vandalize or. Nothing would happen to it and I’d keep it safe from ruin. If something is weak, I’d work to rebuild and fix it.”

“You’d do that for a small library when you have such a grand castle?”

“In a heartbeat. That’s the place I got to spend so many memories with you,” he softly admitted out loud. “You don’t need to agree to my request,” he told you, heartbreak in his voice. He wouldn’t force his wishes on you, no- never would he do that.

You slowly pulled your hands from his, opening your palms to see the golden comb in all it’s beauty again. You then handed it to Taehyung, having him hold it as you unraveled your messy, braided hair. Holding locks of it ver your shoulder, you looked at him and smiled.

“Can such a comb even brush such messy hair?” Taehyung’s face nearly split in two at the smile that erupted into his face. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, lifting you off your feet and toes to hold you so tightly. YOu felt his chest breathe heave, relieved sighs. He set you back down on your feet.

He moved to kiss you again, but not on the forehead. No, this time his lips fell beneath your eye. He kissed you and when he pulled his lips from your skin a small mark had begun to outline onto your skin. Shining with golden light before forming the shape of a butterfly, his insignia animal. He smiled again as he moved to sit you down into his throne.

He then moved to kneel in front of you, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles much like the night he first met you when he left you for the first time. He kissed your knuckles before he smiled up at you with his innocent, childlike smile.

“We’ll have to get you accustomed to the castle, my dear,” he giggled. He began to lead you to a room of seamstress servants to exchange your ordinary librarian clothes with fine, silk robes of the Sun’s golden glow.

The only thing he kept secret from you now, was the fact that not only were you his Prophet, he also may have told the townspeople that if they mess with his fiance and future wife again, he, the God Luos would not be pleased. Of course, you didn’t have to know you were engaged quite yet.

a/n pt.2 - Tell me all what you think! I spent 5 hours writing this in one sitting and I’m pretty proud of it ngl. So lmk!!

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theb1te · 3 years

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Hostage Hearts and Patchwork Love

Chapter 1: Like a fish out of water

Stiles Stilinski x Peter Hale || Espionage AU || Chapter 1/? : 1754 words || Rated T

Summary:  Mieczyslaw Gajos is an FBI agent. When he gets on the second big case on the new taskforce he was recruited for, it changes his life. For better or for worse, he doesn't know that either. What he does know, is that not only his life has changed, but so does the life of suspected criminal Peter Hale.

————

I wrote this story for Steter Secret Santa 2020 (@stetersecretsanta)! It’s a gift for @kcmski, who requested some spy action. I hope you like it! I had no knowledge about espionage when I started this, so I’ve learned quite a lot too. Happy Holidays!

(title from the song Patchwork Love by As It Is)

Read on AO3 or

Stiles was strapped to a chair in his new home, leaned all the way back. A wet cloth was draped over his mouth, and he woke up, gasping for air through the water that was splashed over his face. When he could finally open and focus his eyes, he saw above him, his own lover, Peter Hale, his lover’s nephew and his assistant, Derek Hale and Scott McCall. He was being waterboarded by the man he was in love with. The man who was in love with him.

Now you probably wonder how Stiles ended up in this situation. Let’s explain...

It all started when Mieczyslaw Gajos, often called Miesko, got a call from his boss on a Sunday, exactly three years ago. On a Sunday? Sure, Federal agents worked 24/7, but he'd never been called by his boss on a Sunday. When he answered it all got even more suspicious. He couldn't meet him on Monday, or at his boss' place or office. “I’m outside of your apartment building,” and Miesko had to meet him in the man’s vehicle. Strange, but he couldn't do anything other than comply. Once inside the car he found out what this was all for.

"We've got a new job for you, kid," was the first thing his boss said as soon as he’d closed the car door.

He'd been recruited for a new highly secretive taskforce. It would handle supernatural cases from that moment on, since they had grown more and more frequent over the past few years. Somehow his boss had found out that Miesko already knew about the supernatural world, so he couldn’t do anything else than recruit an experienced and knowledgeable agent for the team. Almost a year of training followed, in between cases. They were few and far between at that point in time, but Miesko loved it. They were the most interesting cases of his life.

Not more than a year after finishing his training, he got assigned to his second big case. It was focussed on a family of werewolves that had been known to live in a small town called Beacon Hills for years. The Bureau had been keeping eyes on them due to some suspicions, and now it was finally time to make a move. They were suspected to be domestic terrorists. Recently they suffered a major attack from the Argent family and associates, a group known to be werewolf hunters. It seemed to have only made them more aggressive, turning teenagers and an increase in ‘animal-attack’ victims ending up in town, and the family of wolves had established contact with a known person of interest. 'Deucalion' had been a familiar name even before the supernatural taskforce had been established. He was an uncatchable, very strong werewolf with several aliases that always seemed to leave a trail of victims behind wherever he went.

The more desk-ridden side of the taskforce had done their research on the family of wolves and advised for an agent to win Peter Hale's attention. Miesko was one of the only gay man on the taskforce and most qualified for the job, so he was sent out. Of course he needed a new name and identity to start his undercover mission.

And so Stiles Stilinski was born.

A nice, jittery, unsuspecting gay young man, moving to Beacon Hills to get away from the busy city life of Los Angeles. He was outgoing, and actively looking for a new love life to have fun next to working on his own start-up business.

This was, by a giant margin, the most dangerous thing Stiles had ever done. As an investigative specialist, more commonly known as a spy, his job was to always be grey. He was to not stand out, blend in with the crowd without looking like he was trying too hard. People would see him, but forget him a second after. This time was different. He had to stand out and quite literally get up in the face of his target. This was a whole new level of undercover work he'd never done before.

That love life Stiles was looking for, he first found while going out in the local gay bar, Jungle, for a few nights until he ran into his target. Peter Hale. He'd memorized his face before he even moved here. So there he was, dancing over to Peter in the middle of the night with a tempting smile on his face.

The intelligence that was helping him on this case had told him that Peter wasn’t the person to buy a drink for, but he had to make him buy a drink for Stiles, which made it only harder to do this right. If he missed his shot now, he wouldn’t even be able to start his mission. He took a seat next to Peter at the bar, looking over at him like he’d never seen him before and acting impressed. ‘Stroke his ego. He wants to be the best.’ He remembered all the advice clear as day.

His acting didn’t have to go far when he actually laid eyes on Peter though. The man was hot, not exactly Miesko’s type in terms of looks, but he definitely wasn’t hard on the eyes. He refocussed to the task at hand and flashed Peter a charming smirk and wink before ordering himself a drink from the bartender. It was actually his first alcoholic drink of the night, but it wouldn’t hurt to pretend that he’d already had a few. It would even be suspicious if he hadn’t, since it was already so late into the night.

Once the drink arrived, Miesko’s plan had proved to work. Peter turned to the bartender and didn’t let Stiles pay, instead paying for Stiles’ drink and ordering a new one for himself. He turned further toward Stiles then, “Nice to meet you. You’re new here.” He showed Stiles a smirk of his own. His eyes lit up, sitting up straighter and taking a sip of his drink before nodding excitedly.

“Yeah! I actually just moved here a few weeks ago. Thought I’d check out if this club was anything good!” Stiles explained over the music, his excited smile never leaving his face, making him look quite innocent and oblivious. He leaned his side against the sleek bar, subconsciously making the bright, flashing lights color his face from blue to purple and back again.

Stiles noticed Peter raise one of his expressive eyebrows and the man leaned against the bar casually. Peter asked about his move and they fell into a simple yet flirty conversation easily. Miesko hadn’t gone over his backstory no less than fifty for nothing. It didn’t seem like long before they decided to go onto the dancefloor, but Peter had asked a lot about Stiles. It seemed like the man was just showing interest, but Stiles noticed it was more than that easily. The questions had underlying suspicion written all over them. It wasn’t anything strange from a man working in his family’s domestic terrorist association.

Miesko enjoyed himself on the dancefloor, being able to let go a little bit. He didn’t have to focus as much when they weren’t talking, just being his charming self like he was actually just trying to pick Peter up. He knew it was going to work when he wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck and he felt Peter’s hands land on his ass. He smirked at himself, but let Peter see it too. It wouldn’t raise suspicion.

In the morning, Miesko woke with a yawn and placed his forearm over his eyes. As soon as the fog cleared out of his brain he realized he wasn’t in his own bed. In fact, he was in a bed much comfier than his own or his new one. He rolled his shoulders to get the light ache out before squinting over at the man beside him. Peter Hale. Not that the ache in his back needed anymore explaining, but now that he got a good look at the man’s defined chest, Miesko definitely wasn’t surprised. He was glad to note that Peter didn’t seem awake yet, and he carefully slipped from under the soft, silky sheets to find his clothes and something to write on. Once he was dressed back into his clothes that had been carelessly strewn around the room, thanks Peter, he found a note and a pen in his own back pocket.

Call me, hot stuff. +1(323) 555-6782 x Stiles

He stuck the carefully written note to the dresser and stepped back. Miesko checked around the room if he didn’t leave anything damning behind before carefully starting to tip toe out of the bedroom.

“Did’you leave a note?” A groggy grumble came from the bed, startling Stiles into turning back around to the bed and looking at Peter who hadn’t even opened his eyes. “Yeah.” He confirmed, deciding that if Peter didn’t even seem to be moving he would just continue out the door and so he did.

“Phone number?” The same voice came again right when Stiles was opening the door. He just looked over his shoulder this time, but did wait to leave. “On the note.” He confirmed, staring at the bed to see if Peter would actually do something this time. He did, but it wasn’t what Stiles had expected. The man just turned around in the bed, showing his back to Stiles. “M’kay.” He said, and like Stiles had needed any sort of incentive to leave, he waved his hand toward the door half-heartedly.

Miesko stepped out of the room and made his way out the door of the penthouse, only sighing when the doors of the elevator had closed. He shook his head as he thought out of the interaction, even letting out a soft chuckle as he leaned his back against the cool wall of the elevator, sagging against the rail. Egotistical, check. Rich, check. Fucking amazing at sex, ch- Wait, that wasn’t on the list of descriptors. He rubbed his hands over his face and raised an eyebrow at himself accusingly in the mirror next to him. He noticed the terrible sex hair that was still decorating him and pushed his hand through it to sort that out just before he was already at the ground floor of the apartment building. He stretched once he was out of the lobby and blinked away the brightness of the morning sun before heading back to his new home.

#steter #steter secret santa #steter secret santa 2020 #peter hale #stiles stilinski #fanfic #mine #teen wolf #my writing #au #my edits #moodboard #edits #kcmski

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growingstronglikeahighgardenrose · 4 years

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Thoughs on Mace Tyrell? I undertand that the show really cemented his image as a foolish lord, but I can't avoid to feel a little of cringe when someone claims that the Tyrells are a matriachal family and that Olenna easily manages his son like a puppet. In the books Olenna complaing that Mace is always "tut-tut" at her and the fact that he have managed to change so easily from a king to another without facing mayor consequences to his family makes me question how much of a oaf he's truly.

Hi, thanks for the question. To be honest, I don’t have a clear answer. I’ve thought about it many times.

TLDR; Olenna not liking Mace is a combination of family relationships and perhaps polital tactics. Mace is certainly not a puppet nor a complete fool. But he isn’t the smartest either, I’d say he is about average and certainly has some flaws.

Long text (sorry, if brevity’s the soul of wit, I don’t have it)

I believe it’s a good case of a pair of ego’s bumping against each other, the older generation looking down on the next, Olenna being unsatisfied that her child doesn’t exactly act as she would, and some truth.

Olenna sees herself as a very clever cunning woman, and she is, undoubtedly, but bookwise we have awfully little to stave that, we know little of what she has achieved. What we do know is that Olenna is very much involved in marriage politics, she claims to have boycotted a marriage to Daeron Targaryen, and was very involved in Margaery’s engagement with Joffrey both in conversations with Littlefinger and Sansa. And as many old women she loves to stick her nose in everything, especially since she feels she’s clever. So I do believe she tries to exercise as much influence as she can.

Secondly, an often used technique to get people to talk, is to start critiquing people. Once you start talking trash about somebody, people are quick to jump in. Olenna complaining about her family members might be a way to see who agrees, and is thus against her family. It’s Westeros, Randyll sent his own heir to the wall. Walder Frey plays with his heirs, the list goes on. Family backstabbing is a sport in Westeros as Mace’s got heirs to spare. Secondly, Littlefinger and Doran Martell both believe it can be beneficial to be perceived as weak and stupid. Perhaps she tries to get people to underestimate Mace.

I don’t think she’s the awesome pupeteer of house Tyrell, if she was, she wouldn’t be so annoyed with her son and husband. A pupeteer is someone who exercises control over someone. Olenna constantly complains about Mace and calls him dumb. Personally, when I call people dumb, nine times out of ten it is because I don’t agree with their decisions. Mace obviously has no problem ignoring his mother, otherwise she wouldn’t be as annoyed. Olenna might influence some decisions, but she has no full power over Mace.

Next as to whether Mace, who clearly makes his own decisions from time to time, is oafish. What do we actually know? He’s not the best military tactician. It’s been pointed out that the military succeses he did have, were because of Randyll Tarly, Kevan Lannister believes that with Tywin dead, no one is better suited to lead an army than Randyll. Not Mace, not Jaime, but Randyll. Randyll was also the real hero of the ONLY battle we know Mace took part in, and Mace totally stole the credit for the victory. That doesn’t make Mace an oaf, but he is at least arrogant and silly for claiming military victories and pretending he’s good at war. He also talks about his siege of Storm’s End as if it was a success. As if it was hard to be stationed there with good food supply and do nothing but make sure that no food got into Storm’s End. Now, I have seen on certain fora that it could have been a deliberate move by Mace. By dragging out the siege he didn’t kill lords of other houses (which would make post-war diplomacy for the Tyrells hard or could potentially result in revenge plots if the war turned out in the favour of Robert, and that was the case), nor could he be blamed of abandoning the Targaryens. Keeping the siege also meant he didn’t lose his men in war, didn’t lose face or was branded a coward. That could be, but it’s only a theory. And so far many young heirs went into the war, risking the futures of their entire houses. Mace already had three sons by that point (or 2 sons going 3, Loras was born during the first year of the rebellion), he had heirs to spare. I reason he’s at least a bit of a coward who wasn’t willing to get hurt, and was deliberately avoiding battle because he KNEW he wasn’t good at it. So +1 for his knowledge of self and avoiding situations that would have outed his weaknesses, but a great military mastermind? Nope.

Mace’s "Always side with the winning team” approach has kept the Reach safe from most harm in Westeros, and nobody’s going to complain when the harvests are good, food is plentiful, and no heirs are dying. We got an example of the potentially destabilizing power of a big lord losing their sons in the shape of Karstark. So his politics have kept the Reach at least stable, but was that deliberate? Or was it just a coincidence that him jumping ship benefitted the other lords? His one clear act of diplomacy within the Reach was his marriage. He married a Hightower, which is good internal Reach marriage politics, and the Hightowers are one of the oldest/the oldest Reach house. But personally, I believe his marriage was decided upon by his parents. Almost all marriages in Westeros are. It would also make Olenna the go-to marriage diplomat of House Tyrell. Which is very possible. During my diplomacy courses at uni I was taught that niche diplomacy is a great thing since it always you to maximize your influence and become a “go to” for certain matters. It’s interesting to me that the Tyrells almost always marry within the Reach, and almost always to one of the houses that are supposed to hail from Garth Greenhand’s children. If all your high families are interwoven, it’s hard for them to take up arms against you. On the other hand, a need for intermarriage could also point towards a fear of the other noble houses in the Reach.

That’s it though, it’s clear Mace’s eyes are aimed at the “big politics”. He doesn’t care for Highgarden. The Western coasts have been attacked by Ironborn for months and what does he do? Nothing. The Shields are taken? Nothing. Also, given how stressed Loras is about needing to sail to the Shields, and rashly attacking Dragonstone, tells me that Mace didn’t leave enough troupes within the Reach so it could protect itself. Otherwise Loras wouldn’t be so desperate to go there with his men.

Alright, but now for his King’s Landing Politics: - A smart move was locking down the Rose Road, leading to riots and starvation in King’s Landing. A great move to apply pressure on the council, and he kept the pressure on until he had a sweet deal in regards to marrying Margaery to Joffrey. He might also have been involved in the poison-Joffrey plot and played the “shocked father” role perfectly.

- He doesn’t do anything as master of ships

- He does want more positions for the Reach but doesn’t get these in AFFC. he doesn’t “win” them either, he just manages to get them because Cersei screwed herself by letting the Faith arrest Margaery. Now that Mace is Hand of the King, Tarly justiciar and Redwyne Lord Admiral he has all positions he wants. But what has he decided? What did they do? What was their plan with those posts? It isn’t clear

- Mace was literally laying siege to Storm’s End and could have prevented Aegon from taking it (he was laying siege to Stannis’ men, but his army was big enough to potentially keep off Young Griff’s fleet. But the second he heard Margaery was arrested he just came to King’s Landing with full military force, not even leaving some troupes behind that could’ve kept up the siege against the few men Stannis had left behind. Now Stannis’ men could go and get rations so the siege was ruined, and Griff managed to take it (or so we hear in the released WoW chapters). That’s just straight dumb-assery, he could have used his men wiser. And he wasn’t just laying siege for Cersei. From Storm’s End it’s just a march through Felwood and then up the Bluebell and down the river to Highgarden. It didn’t even do anything, by the time he got there Randyll had arranged Margaery’s release already. And what was he going to do? Lay siege to KL? Really? Good luck boy, to succesfully take KL you need ships, and the Redwyne ships aren’t anywhere near him.

- It is known the Iron Throne has huge debts and still he wants his cousin Garth The Gross as Lord Treasurer. As father of the queen, and as hand, he was already expected to cough up money and invest in the throne. Because if the throne goes bankrupt, and the throne has to start demanding huge soms of all lords and smallfolk in winter... shit isn’t going to be pretty. It was already going to be bad. But to have the main responsible for the money be your own family as well? The Tyrells are doing good but that’s a ticket to bankrupcy. He wants power so bad it’s going to screw him over.

- Winter is coming and he isn’t worried at all (and that’s a thing I blame every player of the game of thrones for).

So all by all Mace isn’t blatantly stupid. He can be diplomatic and courtly, and knows the game of “give and take” politics better than say Stannis or Ned. He can also lie easily (about his victories, about being afraid that his daughter could have gotten poisoned... That is if we rule out that Mace is so full of himself he legitly believed the victory was his and was involved in the purple wedding poisoning). He also knows how to do image control, he’s called the fat flower by his mother and is despised and mistrusted by Cersei but given that he has no real military victories and has done nothing but switch sides for over twenty years, his reputation could be so much worse, yet it isn’t.

But he is at least a bit negligent of the Reach, is power hungry, doesn’t think long term, weak military skills, can’t think clearly in times of crisis (like Margaery’s arrest) and his moves are just plain predictable at this point.

I’d also say much of his "wins” relied on luck: Margaery becoming queen was partially up to luck and circumstance. If Ned had been succesful in telling Robert about the twincest, then Margaery could have become Robert’s queen. But although everyone in KL knew, no one was doing anything to help Ned, including the Tyrells. So Marg wouldn’t have simply become queen, the Tyrells weren’t working towards it. It was only after Robert died that Margaery marry Renly (queenmaker plan 2), then broker a deal with the Lannisters (attempt 3) , so on. Mace had four adult children, and only one of them married. Why didn’t he marry them to influential houses? Or at least promise them? How old were they supposed to get before he would start marrying them? Mace wanted more Reach men on the small council. When Cersei refused and replaced him on the council he only complained. Complaining isn’t scheming. It was only because Cersei screwed herself by arresting Margaery that she was stripped of her position of power and Mace and his friends gained their positions. Because contrary to Cersei, Kevan is a sane person who knows the Lannisters must treasure the allies they have.

Of course, we could still learn a lot more about the Tyrells. We might learn a lot more in the upcoming (hopefully) books. I could be very wrong :)

#asoiaf #tyrells #highgarden #mace tyrell #the fat flower #affc #adwd #game of thrones

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pokeshippingflashfic · 4 years

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Askfic off the top of my head. Someone calls Misty a harpy after she scolds them for mistreating... ?

“Jeezus, you’re a real class act, huh?”

“Excuse me?” the redhead shrieked in a somewhat breathless tone, arms somewhere between crossing defensively over her chest and posturing before her, fists instantaneously ready to physically defend herself.

“Yikes, I wish I’d known before I left town that I was gonna need earplugs today. What a drag…” the opposing young girl shrugged with a hint of a snide smirk.

“Look, just ‘cause you wanna turn around and insult me for calling you out doesn’t mean I’m gonna walk away and pretend I didn’t see what I saw!”

“And if you’d look, you’d realize that what you saw is none of your business anyway, okay? So why don’t you just turn your scrawny self around and get outta here! These are my Pokemon and I can train them how I want!”

Misty scowled, fingers itching to grab the girl by her neck and wring it until she was more disposed to listening to a more knowledgeable person’s advice.

“I’m telling you as someone who’s seen it before, treating Magikarp like this is dangerous.”

“I have no reason to trust you just because you say you know better! I caught these Pokemon myself for the sole purpose of evolving them! A full team of super strong Gyarados on my side? Hardly anyone will stand a chance!” the young female trainer guffawed.

An overall distant memory of being stranded at sea with some of her worst enemies and, at the time, more acquaintances than friends fluttered to the top of Misty’s mind. Their raft capsized and she was overcome with cold, dark, and loneliness.

This was followed by a somewhat more recent recollection of her first day as the covering Cerulean Gym lead trainer, trying her best to tame the territorial and abandoned Gyarados her sisters had left behind when they went on their voyage.

Now, months later, she was finally able to spend a few days with her friends again, had escaped Team Rocket’s latest mon-napping attempt or few and found an opportunity to relax, only to stumble on a stranger using pseudo-abusive training to force their Pokemon to evolve as fast as possible. She was only supposed to be refilling the group’s canteens again for the rest of the night!

Her wary gaze dropped sympathetically to the rather pathetic looking three water-types flailing uselessly in the stream before her, a somewhat aggressive electric-type Misty loosely recognized from the Hoenn region named Electrike posturing on their haunches between them with electricity crackling around its head.

By the time she’d shaken herself from her reverie and returned to the present, the younger lass had turned haughtily on her heel and appeared to be preparing her electric-type to attack her other Pokemon again.

“Wait!” the redhead cried desperately, one step taken instinctively forward even with her arms full of canteens dangling from their straps. But what else was there to say? Other than looking temporarily the worse for wear, the three Magikarp didn’t seem to be malnourished, ill, or afraid. And though the voice in the back of her head was still demanding her warning be validated, another part of her wondered if the girl was right. What business was this of hers?

“Misty? I thought that was you!” a familiar voice called out from somewhere behind her.

“Oh, Ash–”

“–Ugh, now your dumb friends are butting in?!”

“Mwah?!” Ash replied, dismayed at the slight to his ego immediately after his arrival, clutching the firewood he’d offered to gather more tightly in his arms.

“Look, I’ll tell you what I already told her! I can train my Pokemon how I want! This was my plan from the start, to toughen them up and push them to evolve! I’m not doing anything wrong! And you!” she rounded on Misty once more, Ash forgotten in the background though he still appeared to be trying to piece one and one together, frantically glancing between the two girls. “Why are you still even here, you harpy?! Screeching and wailing for me to do what you say?! I don’t owe you such courtesy! I don’t even know you so I have no reason to listen to you!”

“Wha - hey, wait a sec!” the younger male trainer shouted obstinately now before Misty’s fiery spirit could kick in. And to her (rather pleasant, if she were being honest) surprise, Ash leaped in front of her as if to protect her from anymore emotional damage. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but Misty was probably just trying to help! … Uh, right?” he finished awkwardly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

The redhead found herself nodding mutely, still shocked at his apparent chivalry. Glancing past him, she saw the female trainer gritting her teeth, brow furrowed, mortified at what probably felt akin to two strangers ganging up on her. And it hit her instantaneously that she’d found the source of the opposing girl’s bitterness.

Maybe if I try a softer approach?

“Look, I know it might not mean anything…” she began calmly and swiftly, unceremoniously dropping her armful of canteens to the ground and taking a cautious step forward, “but I’m actually a gym leader from this region.”

“Pssht, yeah right!” the lass responded stubbornly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. A few seconds passed before she glanced suspiciously at her would-be attacker, “… Which gym?”

“Uh, in Cerulean. The gym belongs to my family. My name is Misty.”

Perhaps it was the city name or the sound of the redhead’s identity sounding semi-familiar but the girl responded with sudden embarrassed comprehension, though she quickly stifled it so nobody would notice.

“W - well, even if that’s true…” she stuttered instead, gaze alternating between aversion and boldness before she trailed off.

It took every ounce of Misty’s willpower not to roll her eyes. She was finally making progress though so she couldn’t forfeit now.

“I li - love Pokemon but… water-types are my favorite. I’ve always liked them most of all and my dream is to eventually be the best water-type master trainer in the world,” the redhead continued, taking another discreet step forward and offering a halfhearted glance in the direction of the group of Pokemon in the background.

“I know how important it is to be the strongest. The best. I mean, even at home, I wasn’t allowed to help with the gym until pretty recently. And if I really plan to be a master, I know… that there’s a lot I still have to learn and do to prove myself to everyone. But…”

“Ngh…!” The girl was very clearly going through an internal struggle.

Finally facing her supposed adversary, Misty took a firm hold of the other girl’s hands and tugged softly, enough so they were inclined to look each other in the eye.

“… But finding shortcuts like these, though tempting, never ends well. I’ve seen newly evolved Gyarados create storms and wreak havoc intense enough to almost kill people. I mean, I have a Gyarados now myself!” And, before the girl could interrupt, Misty went on, “But the first time we met, he tried t - to drown me.”

She was faintly aware of Ash, still relatively close in case things escalated again, straightening his back, breath caught in his throat at this news. Her story also appeared to have quite the effect on her intended audience, as the young lass before her stared wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

“Gyarados are violent and impulsive, instinctive and distrusting. If you really want a whole squad of them to help you prove yourself in this world… then you need to put in the work too. It’s the only way you’re going to earn their loyalty and respect.”

Things were awkwardly silent for the following minute or so. Making one last effort to break the tension, the redhead pulled her hands away long enough to rummage in her bag, removing a small spray bottle and holding it out.

“Here’s a super potion. It may not be enough to get your Magikarp all back to perfect health but it should help for now if they share it. And, for the record, you were right. None of this here is really any of my business but… I guess I just hope you’ll make the right choice in the end.”

The trip back to their group’s campsite roughly ten minutes later was steeped in pregnant and tense quiet murky enough to almost bowl her over. Misty had walked a few minutes away after their conversation to finally complete her task of filling canteens and hadn’t had the nerve to check back in with the girl before returning to their friends.

She could only wonder if she’d really gotten through…

Ash’s pace slowed, he fell a little further in step behind her, but intended to follow through with his inquiry anyway.

“So… that story about Gyarados nearly drowning you? Is that… I guess that’s true, huh?”

Her step faltered too, mind racing as she contemplated her response. Part of her had expected he wouldn’t ask, another part had expected he might even if it would be hard to talk about.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Oh. I guess… when we met him in Hoenn, I didn’t… get that impression. He seemed so…”

“… Loyal and respectful?” she volunteered with a knowing half-smile. “Well, how else would I have known what to say before? Trust begets trust and love begets love. It’s a good lesson to learn, Mr. Pokemon Master.”

“Does stuff like… like that happen often since returning to Cerulean?” he went on, and Misty blinked, impressed by his curiosity.

She was very briefly overwhelmed with memories of her other adventures; PIA Agent Joy secretly inspecting her gym, those awful brothers from Viridian stalking her and seeking vengeance, being attacked by Pokemon and Team Rocket on several occasions…

“Well,” she offered with the faintest giggle, and Ash was grateful for the cover of darkness hiding his flushed cheeks, “no more often than when we traveled together for sure.”

“But that was different!” His response was automatic, almost oversensitive. She hadn’t expected them to talk in such detail about this situation. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d get a rise out of Ash like this. She was torn between taking offense or having her uncertainty put to rest.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

She wondered, albeit briefly, if he was about to blame himself somehow. Alas…

“Because! We had each other then, didn’t we? But now that you’re home…” he trailed off, looked at the ground before kicking a pebble in frustration. Where were the words he needed? And the courage to say them to her for that matter! “Now… we don’t… you don’t have me, ‘yknow, there.”

He was suddenly feeling quite overheated, cheeks and neck and ears uncomfortably toasty after his confession.

“… Oh.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“Y - yeah, so you need to take better care of yourself from now on!” he practically yelped in complaint before stomping forward and passing her by, still refusing to look her in the eye in case she noticed his predicament.

... Hypocrite! she replied internally, surprised that it was accompanied by a suppressed bark of laughter as she picked up the pace to rejoin him.

A good thing too because apparently their conversation wasn’t over.

“That all being said… I think ya handled that really well back there. These kinds of situations can be tricky…” To conceal his lack of breath at such flattering commentary, he continued rambling, “Uh, what’s it called? Like a gray area? It reminds me of when we met AJ right after we first started traveling together.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess it’s sort of the same, huh…?” she replied softly, almost wistfully. “Still no way to know if I made the right call… But I think I did what was best for her and her Pokemon so that’s… really all that I can expect of myself.”

They were one wall of foliage away from their friends now. Ash had resorted to awkwardly clearing his throat, refusing to look her in the eye. Misty, unsure if it was the frustrating prospect of being cornered by a curious May, Max, and Brock later over such odd behavior, or else an impish streak hoping test Ash’s patience one last time tonight, or even the genuine friend in her hoping to give a little something back after all the emotional intimacy he’d bared for her this evening, decided to go for it.

“Y’know Ash, I think you handled yourself well tonight too.”

He stared blankly back at her, one brow just beginning to furrow as he begged the question, “Uh… I did? How?”

She felt an instant warmth spread from her chest to her limbs, heartbeat so violently loud she could feel it pulsing in her fingertips as they unconsciously twirled around a particular canteen strap from anxiety. Still, the memory of Ash stepping to her defense and placing himself between her and any perceived threat had been quite the romantic experience. Not to mention the other precious pieces of himself he’d proffered over the past hour or so…

“Oh, I mean, it’s nothing much. I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful you showed up tonight, I guess. Now let’s get back. I’m surprised they didn’t start looking for us after all this time!” And they crashed unanimously through the underbrush, stumbling back to their destination for the night, one final thought crossing Misty’s mind.

With Ash’s heart sewn so loosely on his sleeve, it was quite easy to tell even after all this time… exactly how he felt about her.

[Btw, my intention was that this fic took place during the short time Ash and Misty travel together again with May, Max, and Brock after Ash’s return from Hoenn.

Btw x2, if you’re so obliged, please reblog this fic and spread news of this blog. I know posts are slower now, work is hectic and I don’t have as much time to write, but I would like to get some more fic requests. Every time I ask lately I’ve only gotten 0-1 at a time.]

#pokeshipping #flash fic #fanfiction #aaml #ash x misty #requests #word count: 1748 #faolenwolf

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trashy-mctrash · 4 years

Text

Leona Chan’s Harem - Part 2(Of 4)

Here's part 2 of the crack fic. A latest development has occurred as @goldendeeeer1 and I accidentally wrote a season 4 for the Leona chan harem so now this is a 4 part fic :) sorry guys lol. A warning this one is pretty long but hopefully part 3 will be shorter, there was a lot that happened. Now with that said please enjoy!

For those who haven’t read part 1, here’s the link!

Disclaimer; naughty language

Ever since Leona chan and Ruggie got together, Rook had been extra annoying and clingy to Leona, more than usual. He would constantly follow Leona and wait for him after classes before walking with him to them, he even bought lunch for him! Which Leona actually didn’t mind, who could deny food. Leona pretty much got used to Rook’s antics since it was nothing new but it still irritated him. Surprisingly Rook was good company at times, they had some interesting conversations and Leona enjoyed their mindless banter and their chases across the school, it gave him a sense of thrill. Ruggie wasn’t keen on how much time they spent together. He was Leona's boyfriend after all, he should be by his side not Rook. There were even rumors being spread that Leona and Rook were dating, that made Ruggie even more pissed.

Ruggie stood outside the Pomefiore dorm entrance. He had decided to finally confront Rook and keep him away from Leona. He was going to prove what a great and strong boyfriend he could be. Rook soon appeared with Vil, they seemed to be talking about something. Ruggie perked his ears as he picked up Leona’s name in the conversation.

“Ohhhh you should have seen the way he purred when I stroked his tail Vil.” Rook stated while throwing his hands up dramatically in the air. He soon noticed Ruggie out of the corner of his eyes and smirked, “Leona chan is simply too cute, I might just have to date him.”

That was it. Ruggie had planned to be civil but just hearing Rook say those things was a direct attack to his ego. Fine, if he wanted to play dirty Ruggie would oblige. He fought hard for Leona chan’s love and refused to let Rook mess things up. “Rook, can I talk to you?” Ruggie called out standing as tall as he could while placing a hand on his hip.

“Why if it isn’t Ruggie~ Of course you can,” Rook replied as he headed towards him, “how can I help you.” Vil was intrigued by their conversation and decided to join them, he quite enjoyed seeing Rook pester people.

Taking a deep breath Ruggie spoke, “I want you to stay away from Leona. I don’t care if you’re conducting ‘research’ It's annoying and disrespectful and as Leona’s boyfriend I demand you stop.” Rook smiled yet Ruggie noted how it didn’t reach his eyes. “Did Leona send you to say that or are trying to act tough.” Ruggie glared at Rook while Vil chuckled behind his hand, “come now Rook he’s trying his best. It's not Ruggie’s fault that he's self conscious about their relationship.” Ruggie was fuming, this why he hated their stupid dorm they always thought that they were better than everyone else. “Leona and I’s relationship is perfectly fine thank you.”

Rook smiled as he hit a nerve in Ruggie and decided to continue, “Leona chan is very strong, I don’t think he would appreciate you trying to defend him like some sort of damsel he’s a prince after all~” Ruggie growled, “what do you know about Leona! I’ve been by his side for years and you’re just a creep!” At this point Ruggie was just ready to go. “Just admit that you don’t trust Leona, that's why you feel that you need to ‘scare’ me away.” Rook stated hoping to push Ruggie further. And it worked as Ruggie finally cracked, “Leona is useless without me! He clearly needs me. Without me he’s nothing!” Ruggie shouted.

The hall was silent. Everyone was shocked, no one had expected Ruggie to say that. Even Ruggie stood there with a blank face. All of sudden footsteps appeared heading towards them. It was Leona Chan! He had heard everything and was upset. “Ruggie...I never knew you thought that, maybe we should break up.” Ruggie began crying, “no Leona please I just wanted to help you.” It was too late however, Leona was already walking away, “I don’t need someone speaking up for me, I can do that myself.”

Leona headed to the library trying to hold back his tears. He really thought Ruggie was the one but he was a fool. He was destined to be alone. While wiping his tears he bumped into something. He looked up to see Malleus. Great, he thought just what I needed. Malleus noticed how upset Leona was and decided to give him a hug. He had been studying hard about love to prepare confessing to Leona and believed that now was the perfect time. “What happened Leona chan?” he whispered in Leona’s ears. Leona shivered; he hadn’t expected Mallues to be so nice. Now that he thought about it Malleus wasn’t that bad, he even had a nice deep voice. “I broke up with Ruggie. I realised that maybe we weren’t right for each other,” he sniffled looking away from Mallues, he didn’t want him to make fun of him.

Malleus was happy. This was perfect, nobody was in his way to Leona. He had to shoot his shot now. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind Leona’s ear and turned his face towards him. “I’m sorry to hear that but have you thought that maybe there could be someone better nearby...perhaps me?” Leona looked up at Malleus. Him? Leona did find Malleus quite enchanting and he had heard of the enemies to lovers concept from Rook, it was very popular apparently. Maybe Malleus was the one. “O..okay. Yeah why not,” he responded. Malleus grinned. Finally Leona was his, “great, thank you. Lets go and receive Lilia’s blessing.” Leona was confused, “blessing? For what.” “Why for marriage of course, I want us to be together forever Leona,” Malleus replied. He gently took Leona’s hand and placed a light kiss on his knuckles, “you deserve the best.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilia was not pleased. Yes he wanted Malleus to experience the wonders of youth but he was still too young to understand love and marriage. Lilia stared at Leona who was sitting in front of him, he would have never thought that they would end up together. Looks like life still had a few surprises for him. He had decided to send Malleus away while he interrogated Leona, after all there should be nothing but the best for his sons.

“So Leona, what made you choose Malleus?” he asked, placing his cup of tea on the table. Leona gulped, he had been trapped in this room for hours listening to Lilia ramble on about Malleus and him being together. He never thought Lilia could be so protective, the looks he kept receiving made him feel uncomfortable.

“I know Malleus and I may not have been on the best of terms. But that was all my fault. My repressed emotions made it hard for me to understand how much Malleus meant to me. I’m sorry for any problems I may have caused.” He tried to sound as sincere as possible wanting to please LIlia.

Lilia hummed, “to be honest. I never thought that you’d agree to be Queen, you try so hard to be a strong leader but now you want to be by Malleus’s side.” He sat back in his chair looking directly at Leona, “it's nice to see you finally submit.” Leona submit? Never he was a king! But Lilia was right, he would never be as strong as Malleus or even the same level and he had no knowledge about Fae or their culture. Just thinking about all the effort he'd have to do to please everyone and Malleus made him feel queasy. He never had to worry about those things with Ruggie. Things were more simple when they were together, like they understood each other. Maybe he overreacted at Ruggie. Ruggie was just trying his best to be a good boyfriend for Leona like he was doing now for Malleus. And he had to admit that he still held feelings for Ruggie. His cute and mischievous smile, the way he’d cuddle him awake in the mornings and how they ate lunch together in the greenhouse. Huh, maybe Lilia was wiser than he thought.

“No, I haven’t submitted.” Leona stood up, he had to find Ruggie and fix things. “I’m sorry Lilia but I’ve made a mistake. Could you please tell Malleus that I’m not worthy of being with him. There’s someone else waiting for me.” And with that Leona chan ran off to find Ruggie. “Ohoho, looks like my plan worked. After all Malleus needs a more...stable partner,” he said as he watched Leona run down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruggie was still crying. How could he have been so stupid to say those things. Vil and Rook were right, he did think Leona deserved better and that's why he was so scared about Rook getting close to him. But now he's gone. Ruggie had to fix things. He needed Leona in his life, his heart ached without him. He made his way over to Leona’s room drenched in rain but that didn’t bother him. He had to see Leona.

He opened the door only to find Rook sitting on Leona’s bed, one leg crossed over the other. “Hello Ruggie, we appear to have a problem.” Yeah there was a problem, why was Rook here and where was Leona? “What do you want Rook,” Ruggie groaned, he didn’t have time for this. “Ahhh no need for that attitude, after all it was you that ruined your relationship not me.” Rook smiled while standing up, “our goals for now cross. Leona is in danger.”

Danger? How could he say that while smiling? Rook really was messed up. “What do you mean you creep.” “It turns out that Mister Vil plans on making Leona his, that's why he joined our conversation. To make sure you two broke up.” Rook responded, dusting off his uniform. Leona’s bed was covered in hair, he’d have to keep it for later.

Another person after Leona, not on his watch, “he’s your dorm leader so why are you telling me this?” Ruggie was suspicious, what if Rook was involved too, he couldn't be trusted for now. “Ugh we don't have time for this. Of course I wouldn't help Vil, I may admire him but I desire Leona for myself.” Looks like Rook was still a rival, Ruggie would work with him for now, for Leona’s sake. “Right then lead the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leona was panting. He had been searching all over the school for Rugigie but couldn't find him. He headed towards the mirror room thinking that Ruggie might have returned to the dorm. However, a shadow appeared blocking his path. It was mister Vil!

Vil had always admired Leona, despite how messy he dressed, he still held a sort of beauty like no other. Mister Vil was constantly surrounded by people always admiring him and trying to benefit themselves by being with him. But Leona chan didn’t care, Vil was more than that to him which he valued. Their beauty combined would be unbeatable, so naturally he would form the right plan to capture his lion and here he was. Leona had walked right into his trap.

“Greetings my beloved” Vil stepped right into Leona’s personal space fixing his shirt collar, “might I ask where you’re going?” Leona’s heart pounded, why was Vil so close to him? He smelled nice. “I was just going to find Ruggie...I need to speak to him goodbye.” Leona wanted to leave quickly. He could hear the thump of his heart in his ears blocking out his thoughts. No. Things were already so complicated and all Leona was certain about was wanting to see Ruggie, but there was something alluring about Vil drawing him in.

Vil could feel Leona slipping away and decided to take action. He slammed Leona against the wall placing both hands by his head and leaned in to close that their noses were brushing against each other. Leona was in a daze. His face flushed bright red and couldn’t look away from Vil.

“You don’t need Ruggie. I can give everything you need and more.” Vil murmured while stroking Leona’s lips with his finger. “You’re just grieving which is leading you to make bad decisions. But if you and I were together, then you would never have to worry about such things.”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Leona and Vil turned towards the new voices to see Ruggie and Rook standing there. Vil was pissed but decided to step back allowing Leona to finally breathe. The tension was thick, for a while no one said anything. Finally Rook spoke up, “We shouldn’t be forcing ourselves onto Leona, he should decide who he wants to be with for himself, right Leona?” Everyone looked over to Leona waiting for a response. He didn't know who to choose. Ruggie had always been by his side, but Rook knew him well and shared many moments together and Vil cared for him. “I...I don’t know,” His voice began shaking, this was too much for him and he began crying.

Suddenly a dark shadow appeared embracing Leona and comforting him. It was Malleus! Despite Lilia telling him what Leona said, Malleus loved Leona and was determined to prove his love.

Rook had enough. He had remained calm and waited for when Leona would be ready for a relationship but seeing how upset he was angered him. Rook ran up to Vil and punched him in the face. “What the fuck Rook!” Vil was raging, “you were supposed to be on my side, what are you doing.” “I never was. I just want Leona to be happy and he clearly wouldn’t be with you,” Rook responded preparing another punch. “You always were a useless vice dorm leader anyway,” Vil seethed before him and Rook started fighting.

Ruggie had taken this chance to steal some of Vil’s potions he had in his bag and poured them over Vil, some accidentally spilling onto Leona. He placed the bottles down and looked up to see Malleus and Vil now fighting each other. Rook was now trying to talk to Leona who was still too upset and ran away. Rook followed after him wanting to make sure that he was okay.

Idia appeared returning from the canteen and heard screaming. Why were there so many people?! He had warned Leona about the dangers of a harem, he had played plenty of games like this. Being the smart gamer he was, Idia decided to go back to his room. He was not built to fight. Riddle walked by not noticing the fight. He was too focused on returning to the library to study,he didn’t have time to deal with these morons.

Knowing that he couldn’t defeat Malleus, mister Vil decided to leave. However, he tripped over and fell down unconscious. It turns out that Silver had fallen asleep in the hall and tripped up Vil. Ruggie then stole all of Vil’s jewelry before running away leaving Malleus to drag Silver back to their dorm and leave Vil there passed out.

After saving enough money, Ruggie headed to free range Azul to buy a wedding ring for Leona, only to find Malleus there too. Both determined to buy the best ring, they competed against each other before leaving. Both left confident in their choices. Little did they know that Azul had a plan. “Those fools. Obviously I've saved the ultimate ring for myself. Leona will be mine again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally the moment of truth came. It was the night of the NRC ball where all of Leona’s harem hoped to propose to Leona. So far Leona didn’t see any of the others at the ball leaving him feeling quite lonely. Were they not sincere about their love? Leona knew he would end up alone but just for a moment, he believed he found love only to be denied it once again.

He stood by the drinks table trying to hold back his tears when he felt a warm hand rub his back. It felt nice and soothed him. He turned around to see Rook. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Leona. I wasn’t sure if you still wanted to see me after everything.” he spoke softly trying not to spook him. “I thought you got bored of me and found a new specimen? I’m not your toy,” Leona said trying to compose himself. “Hahaha, trust me I know that. You’re my feisty lion~” Rook smiled while ruffling Leona’s hair. Leona felt a spark in his heart. He had felt things before from the others but with Rook it was different. It was like Rook had brought life to his heart and colour to his world. Everything was more lively and natural. Rook made him feel loved.

“Leona.” Rook said, trying to grab his attention. Leona chan look over shocked to see such a loving expression on Rook’s face. ”I am aware of how chaotic things have been and how uncivilised I acted but I have a question for you.” Rook got down on one knee and pulled out a ring, “I know how annoying I can be, always following you around and pestering you. But I didn’t know how else I could reach out to you. You were adored by many and I feared that you might get hurt. Your journey of love has been a rocky one which was why I held back on my feelings but I genuinely care for you and am willing to try.” Rook took in a deep breath, “Leona Kingscholar, I love you. Will you please marry me?”

Leona was amazed. He never heard anyone speak to him like that. Reflecting back, he actually enjoyed his times with Rook and even though he was weird, he had never hurt or confused him like the others. And after everything that happened, Rook still stood here waiting for Leona. He had decided. “Yes. Yes Rook I’ll marry you.”

Rook was ecstatic. He had always dreamed of this moment. He quickly got up and hugged Leona, spinning him around while crying. He was so happy. “Thank you. I promise to love, cherish and protect you forever. Even after I die I will watch over you. After all you mean the world and more to me Leona.” Rook took hold of Leona’s hand and placed the ring on his finger before grabbing his face and pulling him in close. “May I kiss you?” he asked. Leona responded by slamming his lips onto Rook’s, finally happy that he found love.

As for the others well, poor Malleus was unaware of the ball due to not being invited so Lilia took this opportunity to persuade him that Leona was better as a friend and that there was someone better suited for him out there. Mister Vil had taken too long to choose the perfect outfit and do his makeup making him miss the ball and attend a different party instead. Ruggie was too amazed by the wide range of food at the ball and forgot about Leona as he was too busy indulging in all the different doughnuts they had there. Free range Azul realised that he was more interested in Malleus and decided to chase after him instead, who wouldn’t want to marry a fae prince?

The story isn’t over yet. Something else lurks that aims to ruin Rook and Leona chan’s relationship. Will their love pull through or will it fall apart? Stay tuned for part 3 to find out!

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lucahqs-blog · 4 years

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❛ ✶ — did you see LUCA MARTÍNEZ walking around campus earlier ? i hear a lot of people talking about the TWENTY-ONE year old JUNIOR . from what i know , they are studying HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY while minoring in ILLUSTRATION and are a part of PHI KAPPA DELTA . they come across as + DIPLOMATIC but also - NON-CONFRONTATIONAL , which makes since because on their instagram ( LMHQS ) it says they are a LIBRA . when i see them , i think of LONG 2AM ROOFTOP CHATS, 100% GREEK & DEAD POETS SOCIETY CHAOTIC ENERGY, MESSY ROOM COVERED IN ART & PROJECTS, DOG-EARED TEXTBOOKS, CIGARETTE SMOKE. the most interesting thing i’ve heard about them though , is the fact that [ REDACTED ] , but don’t tell anyone i told you that .

hello, loves !! this bean goes by rue ( she / her pronouns ), and i’ll be playing this Mess™, luca ( with fc by froy gutierrez ). below you can find his bio, enjoy ! + disclaimer: there are mentions of mental health and cancer, so please read at your own discretion.

biography

When someone hears the name Martínez, they automatically think of words like prestigious, wealthy, and perfect. And who wouldn’t? With the father being a State’s Attorney and mother owning her own real estate business, you had to think like that. In the public eye the Martínez family was flawless. Diana was the always supporting wife who thrived in raising money for fundraisers and showing off her cooking skills and David was being a husband who brought home piles of money and was devoted to his family. Everyone wanted what they had. Luca Martínez was born into a world where perfection was of the utmost importance. The Martínez family are one of those prestigious families that has always been full of wealthy and high-class snobs, and Luca’s parents were no exception. He grew up learning how to be charming and handsome, and aware of his superiority over those of inferior to him. Luca’s childhood years consisted of him sitting restless at various fancy parties and dinners, while his father kept him from all the treats so that he would grow up to be fit and strong. Luca’s father was always cold and emotionally isolated from him; only after a perfect son to show off to the world.

He has brother, who is three years younger than him, named Nathaniel. His relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged just like with their father. As much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they tend to butt heads often. Whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just cannot seem to see get along.

As a young, restless little child, Luca sought escape from his shallow, chilly life in the form of a friend. His friend taught him that there was such thing as warmth and friendliness, told him lots of stories of Greek mythology, and he learned that his father had been lying about “tactless individuals” being horrible people. However, when his father found out about his associations with his friend, within a week, the boy mysteriously disappeared. Since then, Luca kept all his unapproved-of friends to himself. Unfortunately, as time went on, Luca grew up to become a lot colder and more isolated like his father—leaving the feeling of pure joy of meeting that friend he met long ago, had vanished. With his family situation being completely dysfunctional and rottenly horrible, he never experienced what being happy was all about.

Sometimes calling someone selfish is a gross exaggeration, but in Luca’s case its right on-point. Eventually in his early teens he became distracted, always preoccupied with his own affairs and matters of interest. Whether it was schoolwork, his multiple and usually explosive relationships, or his many existential crises, Luca was one for waving people away and turning the conversation back on himself. This was not necessary out of narcissism or some hidden agenda: Luca genuinely does not know who he is. Perpetually fidgeting and restless, it is not uncommon to see him rapidly flicking a cigarette lighter, or playing with his hair, or bouncing on the balls of his feet. In high school he was brilliant: it was that simple. He was the golden boy. Prone to spilling into intellectual spiels - and labelled a know-it-all - he internalized everything, memorizing tiny details, eyes skipping here and there. His intelligence is among his most useful traits and is by far the thing he values most about himself. Much of his ego is built around the confidence that he is effortlessly smarter than almost anybody he encounters. Knowledge is power, and he weaponizes his superior intellect, using his brains more than brawn to protect himself and intimidate the people he does not care for.

Although his parents were the bane of his experience 100% of the time, his mother was not all that insufferable when she had her moments away from his father and not trying to be this pristine ‘perfect’ woman beside her husband. In fact, throughout his childhood she often encouraged Luca’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. His mother had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as she explained to him—kindness has power, and that she would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

Cancer/mental illness TW—when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Upon hearing the news, Luca’s whole world clasped. Not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), the only important person who had actually showed him any kind of love in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. So many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. He has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. Thankfully, the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. However, that didn’t and doesn’t stop Luca from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. The entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

He is now attending Beaumont University currently in his Junior year studying Human Physiology and minoring in Illustration. The university is his parents’ alma mater and he joined his father’s former fraternity after he was convinced it would be a ‘father-son bonding experience’ to have shared the same Greek house. Not to mention, his family has pretty decent ties at Beaumont, making Luca pretty well known become his parents. Sure, his family is wealthy, well known in the socialite community, and has basically grown up with this sort of life from an exceedingly small age, but to say he actually cares about all that crap is an overstatement. He is nothing like some of the spoiled and entitled students at his school and rather vibe with himself than gossip about the latest trend.

Despite issues with his own family, Luca has a lot of personal of his own he deals with. He is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. Though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. He does not know how to express his emotions in a put together way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. Rarely opens up because of this. He usually distracts himself from his insufferable emotions with hobbies such as playing the piano, painting, and reading some of his favorite classics. After he moved out the house at eighteen to pursue college and became more independent, he started to come into his own style with his wardrobe. To put it simple, he is like a hippie dippy child of the universe.

No joke. No seriously, his place at home and his dorm is full of sensual shit and art. It is getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon. Catch him rocking the Greek philosopher and Dead Poets Society aesthetic around campus. He strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself—not just through photography and painting—and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. Because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo. His appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of hipster shit. His clothes can be very flowy like, but don’t let that fool you. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you. His hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

#bu.intro

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rentfreecat · 4 years

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Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts Fanfic Recs

so yeah I figured I should get around to making a list of some of my faves to promote them, I’ve got a big enough collection of bookmarks now. in no particular order. not all of them are necessarily complete or alive

Final Fantasy VII

The Gold Saucer’s Golden Arches by belderiver

Before he doomed the world to ash and ruin, Sephiroth wanted a burger.

note: Sephiroth + sudden hunger pang = mcgold

Meetings by Yinza

Aeris reflects on her few encounters with Sephiroth over the years since her escape from the lab.

note: Aerith having known Sephiroth before is just one of my favorite headcanons

lather, rinse, repeat by annperkinsface

She knows she shouldn't confuse this act of kindness for anything else, but it's hard, when Aerith is draping a towel over her shoulders, when Aerith is warm at her back, humming as she works a thick lather across her hands.

note: adorable Aerti. Aerith being a weirdo. Tifa blushing and being kinda horny. perfect. in case you couldn’t tell I ship it.

In Circles by Larissa

Tifa hates Midgar, and yet she stays, and she stays, and she stays.

Character study/pre-game gap-filler. Written for the Tifa Zine.

note: beautiful mood piece

the nodding golden tansy by Kieron_ODuibhir

“You think this troubles me?”

“Yes,” said Cloud, without looking up from his tea.

note: one of my fave takes on Seph and Cloud’s relationship. wonderfully quiet and melancholy.

not one before another by Kieron_ODuibhir

1) Sephiroth almost corrected the first person who called Aerith his sister, a woman they’d met before they were even out of Midgar’s slums complimenting him on taking such good care of her, while their mother shopped.

2) The other half of Project S took after their father.

3) Blue eyes contemplated him narrowly for several seconds, and then Genesis’ smirk came back, lying on his face more easily, somehow. “So brothers-in-arms to the skirmish shall we hence?”

4) It felt wrong to be relying on anybody but Mother, but Mother…only cared about Sephiroth, and it wasn’t fair. Loz sniffled. “Will she take care of Yazoo, too?”

5) “I’m glad he’ll have a big brother,” she said, as Sephiroth crossed the room. “Little ones always need someone looking out for them.”

Sephiroth nodded, and bent forward, and peered at the squashed little pink thing until it stirred, objecting probably to cool air on its face. “What’s his name?”

“Cloud."

(Five times in five worlds where Sephiroth was somebody's brother, and one where he wasn't anymore.)

note: exactly what it sounds like. personal fave is 4.

Angels Still Have Faces by Kieron_ODuibhir

On the fourth day, Sephiroth looked out a window and spotted his two friends together on one of the outdoor training fields, once again exchanging harsh words, only for Angeal to wheel around and storm off at the end.

note: fics where someone other than the main character time-travels are amazing and this is that and also outsider pov mother bear Sephiroth who doesn’t know what pizza is

Final Fantasy IX

puppet play by zalzaires

starting a drabble collection for ffix. i mostly just write about kuja so hence the name.

note: my personal fave is "curtains, bookends, stars of the show” because Kuja is such so... Kuja in there

Final Fantasy XV

ffucc the wedding by Givethemtriumphnow

Gift for Victortor, inspired by their fabulous ffucc Universe.

Noctis and Luna are the same person, one soul split into two bodies.

In a world where everyone lives and nothing hurts, the wedding is still a symbol of the peace, and the show must go on. Noct and Luna just can’t wait for what comes afterwards: the Big Reveal.

note: I just really like the one person two body trope okay? pretty entertaining read!

Poor Wayfaring Stranger by lithos_saeculum

Out on a mission, Cor Leonis finds a teenager, lost and sick and partway to becoming an MT. Against the advice of all and sundry, he brings him back to Insomnia. There's not a lot of love lost for MTs in the Citadel, but some of its inhabitants may still be young enough to put aside their prejudices.

note: also on my list of likes is MT Prompto trope, and honestly fuck canon that’s just there for inspiration. TW for implied pedophilia and stranger danger in one of the later chapters.

Will You Be There, Standing at the End of the War by Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche)

When they're attacked by the Imperial Forces at Tenebrae, Regis wasn't prepared to be rescued alongside Noctis, Lunafreya and Ravus by the Commanding General of the enemy forces. Not after the man already cut Sylva down before them.

He was even less prepared for the face lying in wait behind the mask.

He dropped down to one knee, and rather pointedly cupped the left side of Drautos’ head, delicate, making no move to actually hide the fury raging through him.

“Talk, Titus.” Regis whispered. “Before I take this airship down from the sky.”

note: Drautos time-travels and is an absolute bastard. I like seeing his and Regis’s exchanges!

For Want of a Flan by magicgenetek

For want of some patience, Ifrit never freed Ardyn from Angelgard to rebel against the Astrals.

For want of Ardyn, Nifleheim never invented MT Troopers.

For want of MT Troopers, Lunafreya and Ravus were able to escape with Regis, and Nifleheim never cornered Lucis in their war.

For want of a kidnapping, Luna, Noctis and Prompto were able to work together to get ready for the prophecy, and Ravus is ready to suplex an Astral to make sure someone survives the prophecy.

For want of separation, the four of them go to Angelgard to figure out what secrets lay there, and accidentally adopt Ardyn into their plans to save the world.

For want of 2000 years’ prep time, Ardyn’s going to have to get up to speed on the modern world fast if he wants revenge or to fulfill his half of the prophecy.

note: has a good deal of worldbuilding and linguistics nerdery. I like that. I also like the recovery element of Ardyn’s arc.

A Little More Time by Asidian

The sun is brilliant overhead – set in a blue sky dotted with clouds that float like wisps of spun sugar through the high arc of the heavens.

It's more than lovely. It's entrancing, and Noctis takes one long, final look before he turns his gaze back earthward. His vision dances with sunspots for a moment, afterimages from the blinding light – but when it clears, Noctis sees a small black dog there, patient and watchful as always.

Umbra has been waiting.

"Alright," Noctis says. "We're ready to go back."

note: short, punchy, and absolutely chilling

Eschaton by nirejseki

Sure, it's the end of the world, but that just means someone's got to fix it.

And then the world found its somebodies.

(aka, with Noctis gone into the Crystal and no one sure when he'll be back, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto end up saving the world one piece at a time)

note: I like worldbuilding and MTs alright? and schoolteacher Gladio will never not be funny/great

Astra Inclinant by thekindmagic

“Look,” Aranea laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not trying to shit on your destiny. But the way I see it? A lot of the time, there’s no big mystery. You either keep going, or you don’t.”

note: how could I not rec femslash? beautiful melancholy mood. I’m so sad for Luna

Starlight and Shadow by ohmyfae

While Noctis and his friends are setting up camp, Ardyn Izunia happens to accidentally stumble onto the runes of their haven. The magic of the haven pulls him into two halves; One is Ardyn, a small child with a bit of an ego and a limited knowledge of the world at large, and the other is the Scourge, shambling and groundless, determined to seek out its former host and consume the light it finds there.

note: fun read!

On the Care and Keeping of Prompto by ohmyfae

Congratulations! You have been chosen to ensure the well-being of PROMPTO, who is: 1. An absolute darling. 2. Of more intrinsic value than you, your significant other, your ancestors, and the world at large. 3. Two years and four months old 3a. This is very important to remember 4. Behind you.

note: also a very fun and fluffy read! also the fic that introduced me to the amazing crackship of Ardyn and Cor, and I say crackship but... I want more of it

Kingdom Hearts

The Price of Melodrama by LawnNinja

Xemnas never imagined that one of the hardest parts of his plan would be the stupid names.

note: deny it all you wish but you know this happened. also XULORD

(i don’t need you to) Worry for Me by Cygna_hime

In a fit of defiance and desperation, Vanitas disobeys his Master's orders and goes looking for the missing half of his heart. He finds it, and something else as well, something he never expected to find anywhere...

note: I absolutely love this I’ve read this like... 3 or 4 times? go read it now

Bleeding Heart by keelahselai

Xemnas was fundamentally a bad person. Born from the fracture of Xehanort's heart, he had only caused pain to those he banded together with under the promise of finding a way to return all their hearts. He shattered the Organization he'd founded for his own gain, and he understood this with cool indifference. But beneath everything, carefully kept folded away and hidden from Xigbar's prying eye, he was also made from the other inhabitant of Apprentice Xehanort's body. And as troubling as it could be to their plan, he kept it hidden from all.

(Or, how Terra managed to keep his head above the water for thirteen years)

note: I absolutely love the.. I don’t know what it’s called, but let’s say Terramas even though that sounds like a ship name... I absolutely love that trope. this one has such just a great mood y’know?

By Choice or Chance by Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody

Lazy afternoons are a universal phenomenon.

note: I just love Xehaqus’s tragedy. this is nice, fluffy, and one of them is going to murder the other in his own selfish lust for power. (I know III said Xehanort had other motivations but I just love the “he’s such an utter bastard that all his relationships are going to end disastrously” interpretation)

Whatever Will Be by NanakiBH

Once I tell you the words I've been unable to say, it will be goodbye.

note: more explicitly melancholy mood than last one, still great.

#fanfic recs #final fantasy vii #final fantasy ix #final fantasy xv #kingdom hearts

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astroismypassion · 4 years

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CHART INTERPRETATION: PART 3

CAREER, PROFESSIONAL LIFE, PUBLIC IMAGE You have retrograde Leo Mercury in the 9th house. You are proud of your mind, thoughts and opinions, views on life, spiritual beliefs, beliefs on religion. You might see it as a personal attack if someone disregards your view or doesn’t agree with you. Your ego is directly connected to your mind. You like to think about spirituality, creating, dancing, music, art, singing, film, drama, theatre, performing, foreign things, singers, languages and travelling. You were a timid and reserved child. Your communication is expressed “inwards”. You might be prone to overthinking and rechecking. You might often doubt your decision or be prone to second guess yourself. You have retrograde Aquarius Uranus in the 2nd house. You might have unique ways to earn money. You could make money online or in an unconventional way. You have retrograde Aquarius Neptune in the 2nd house. You might think you have more or less money than you actually have. You might desire to live in the country or might have an unusual home, like you might like to live in a van or a tree house or on a farm. You have Virgo North Node in the 9th house. You’d do well in nutrition, dietetics, wellness, physical and mental health, work in hotel, reception, resorts or even gyms. Maybe you desire to be a mentor to young people or young adults, even children! You might be inclined to work in service or even a library! You like to work from behind and not be in spotlight. You like to learn and expand your knowledge. You crave to constantly improve yourself. This is an amazing aspect for self help book writers, e-books writer or even life coaches! You could be an excellent preacher, motivational speaker, even tourism. You could work with foreigners, people from different cultural, religious, social backgrounds. You’d be good at translation, interpreting, hosting events, parties. You might be an excellent writer! You have Sagittarius Ascendant. You are meant to have fun in this lifetime, gain life experience and get to know your identity. You might gain more life experience and be more sure of your character, personality and ego. You know how to make money, but you crave higher education and expansion in your mind as well. You need to learn since it’s highly fulfilling for you. You have Virgo MC. You would be excellent at advising, counselling and consulting. You might help people organise events or organise their life. You could be interested in the following topics: library studies, literature, writing, public speaking, service, catering and hospitality, healing, different types of medicine, nutrition, dietetics, research, data science, architecture. You have Sun conjunct Mercury. This is a writer’s placement! Your father emphasized the importance of good relations with your family members, relatives and siblings, even your peers and schoolmates. Your ego is directly connected to the way you speak, think, thinking process and how you perceive information. You are an excellent communicator! You might do well in oral, written communication, poetry writing, song writing. You could do well with work with hands, like gardening, baking. I feel you might be an excel teacher, professor, lecturer or host workshops. You might be great at motivating others and help them organise. You might be good at blogging (especially travel blogs) or just to have an outlet that you can call your own and share your rambles and everything you know! You have Gemini and Taurus in the 6th house. You like a steady routine and don’t mind routine work. But at the same time, you need a daily job/work that is mentally stimulating you. So that is “hard” and you can channel your mental restlessness and nervousness into something. You like to read articles, news, about politics and local issues on a daily basis. You might desire to start your own publication or a magazine. I believe with Aries Moon and Gemini Ascendant, you might be somewhat of a late bloomer. You might find it hard to focus solely on one career path. Until your early 30, you might be more “immature, childlike” (like Gemini) and impatient (like Aries). You might want to do it all and at once. And your constantly expanding Sagittarius doesn’t help here. BUT if you zoom in on one thing and really decide to invest time in finishing a single task or accomplishment, you have the potential to really master your craft or skills (Virgo MC). When you put your mind on something, you might know so much about it, others envy you.

#astrology #natal chart #birth chart #chart reading #chart interpretation

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oliverhqs · 4 years

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✧ °˖ — ( casey deidrick. cis-male. he/him. ) looks like oliver carmichael just signed back in at the front desk. word around is, that they’re only staying at the northern star because his family took their annual family vacation to their manor and he decided this year he didn’t want to stay amongst his insufferable relatives for the duration of the trip, so he found somewhere much more relaxing to stay instead while he explores ireland by himself. apparently the twenty-seven year old can be a bit apathetic & opinionated. but their open-minded & relaxed personality usually makes up for it. i hear they like to play piano, paint, and read in their free time. it makes me think of them as a quiet mid-afternoon walk on the italian countryside, staying up throughout the entire night in a dimly lit room talking about books, philosophy, love, and the stars, & well loved sheet music sprawled all over the floor and desk.

hello potential, friends !! i’m late the to party as usual but this ball of anxiety goes by the name of rue ( she/her pronouns ) and i’ll be playing Angsty Boi™, oliver carmichael. if you would like to hit me up for plots / scream about connections all night long, please give this a big ole like and i’ll come bouncing like a happy ferret in the snow to your DMs !! under the cut, you’ll find a brief biography and stats about oli’s life. you can find all my connections here though if you want to check those out. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: slight talks of cancer and mental health are mentioned below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

NAME. oliver alexander carmichael.

ALIAS. people usually just call him by oliver but sometimes oli makes an appearance.

TITLE. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

AGE. twenty-seven years old.

GENDER IDENTITY. cis-male.

PRONOUNS. he/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. he currently lives in east village in new york but he travels quite often for his job, so residency usually fluctuates depending on how long he stays there.

BIRTHPLACE. new york city, new york.

NATIONALITY. american.

RELIGION. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was eighteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to oliver, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in God. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english (fluent/main), french (fluent/2nd main), italian (still learning but can understand it quite well).

EDUCATION. graduated with a bachelors in music therapy and minor in visual arts at brown university.

PROFESSION. works as a freelancing artist in his spare time as he work full time as a music therapist.

layer two: about.

When someone hears the name Carmichael, they automatically think of words like prestigious, wealthy, and perfect. And who wouldn’t? With the father being a State’s Attorney and mother owning her own real estate business, you had to think like that. In the public eye the Carmichael family was flawless. Lilian was the always supporting wife who thrived in raising money for fundraisers and showing off her cooking skills and David was being a husband who brought home piles of money and was devoted to his family. Everyone wanted what they had. Oliver Carmichael was born into a world where perfection was of the utmost importance. The Carmichael family are one of those prestigious families that has always been full of wealthy and high-class snobs, and Oliver’s parents were no exception. He grew up learning how to be charming and handsome, and aware of his superiority over those of inferior to him. Oliver’s childhood years consisted of him sitting restless at various fancy parties and dinners, while his father kept him from all the treats so that he would grow up to be fit and strong. Oliver’s father was always cold and emotionally isolated from him; only after a perfect son to show off to the world.

He has a brother, who is three years younger than him, named Nathaniel. His relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged just like with their father. As much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they tend to butt heads often. Whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along.

As a young, restless little child, Oliver sought escape from his shallow, chilly life in the form of a friend. His friend taught him that there was such thing as warmth and friendliness, told him lots of stories of Greek mythology, and he learned that his father had been lying about “tactless individuals” being horrible people. However, when his father found out about his associations with his friend, within a week, the boy mysteriously disappeared. Since then, Oliver kept all his unapproved-of friends to himself. Unfortunately, as time went on, Oliver grew up to become a lot colder and more isolated like his father—leaving the feeling of pure joy of meeting that friend he met long ago, had vanished. With his family situation being completely dysfunctional and rottenly horrible, he never experienced what being happy was all about.

Sometimes calling someone selfish is a gross exaggeration, but in Oliver’s case its right on-point. Eventually in his early teens he became distracted, always preoccupied with his own affairs and matters of interest. Whether it was schoolwork, his multiple and usually explosive relationships, or his many existential crises, Oliver was one for waving people away and turning the conversation back on himself. This wasn’t necessary out of narcissism or some hidden agenda: Oliver genuinely doesn’t know who he is. Perpetually fidgeting and restless, it’s not uncommon to see him rapidly flicking a cigarette lighter, or playing with his hair, or bouncing on the balls of his feet. In high school he’s brilliant: it’s that simple. He is the golden boy. Prone to spilling into intellectual spiels - and labelled a know-it-all - he internalized everything, memorizing tiny details, eyes skipping here and there. His intelligence is among his most useful traits and is by far the thing he values most about himself. Much of his ego is built around the confidence that he is effortlessly smarter than almost anybody he encounters. Knowledge is power, and he weaponizes his superior intellect, using his brains more than brawn to protect himself and intimidate the people he doesn’t care for.

Although his parents were the bane of his experience 100% of the time, his mother wasn’t all that insufferable when she had her moments away from his father and not trying to be this pristine ‘perfect’ woman beside her husband. In fact, throughout his childhood she often encouraged Oliver’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. His mother had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as she explained to him—kindness has power, and that she would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death. Cancer/mental illness TW—when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Upon hearing the news, Oliver’s whole world clasped.

Not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), the only important person who had actually showed him any kind of love in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. So many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. He has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. Thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. However, that didn’t and doesn’t stop Oliver from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. The entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

Despite issues with his own family, Oliver has a lot of personal of his own he deals with. He is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. Though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. He doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. Rarely opens up because of this. He usually distracts himself from his insufferable emotions with hobbies such as playing the piano, painting, and reading some of his favorite classics. After he moved out the house at eighteen to pursue college and became more independent, he started to come into his own style with his wardrobe. To put it simple, he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. No joke. No seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. It’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon. He strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself—not just through photography and painting—and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. Because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo. His appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of hipster shit. His clothes can be very flowy like, but don’t let that fool you. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you. His hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

After he graduated high school, he furthered his education at Brown University where he majored in Music Therapy and minored in Visual Arts. At the age of twenty-one he graduated and about 6 months later started working as a freelanced artist while working at children’s hospital as a music therapist.

#northernstarintro

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