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scarletemeterio-thesecond · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could i request a Sokka imagine where the reader is Tophs older sister who tries to leave her home when Toph join the Gaang? The MC is an outcast in her family, even by Toph. Toph doesnt want her to join because she claims she cant bend so shed be useless, this makes Sokka defend her and she joins along. The real reason shes an outcast in her family tho, is because shes a fire bender, and she has to hide her secret, only reavling the truth by accident after protecting Sokka in battle.

i absolutely loved this concept and i finally managed to finish this fic, i am so sorry for the long ass wait, but i'm starting to catch up on some old requests. hope you like it!

•••

Secrets (Sokka x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: none i think

Genre: Fluff i guess

Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender

Summary: See request

Word Count: 1938

Reader uses she/her pronouns

•••

Being home was too much for (Y/N). She felt like she was invisible in her own family. The Beifongs had taken her in when she was little, but when they found out that she was a firebender, things changed completely.

When Toph was little, they were quite close, but then her parents managed to break them apart. They'd tell Toph that she was dangerous but also that she was useless because she couldn't bend.

So during the last few years, she felt like an outcast. She would go to the ring most of the time and analyze the movements of the fighters, trying to train herself. She eventually managed to improve her firebending, which had an unique style based on earthbending, but she still had a lot to learn.

She stopped going to the ring once she realized that Toph was the Blind Bandit, she didn't want to run into her outside of the house, but kept practicing on her own.

But suddenly one day the Avatar came to her home. He was looking for an earthbender teacher and she immediately knew that the person he was interested in was Toph. Dinner was a little awkward, but once everyone was ready for bed, things seemed much calmer.

(Y/N) was outside the house, enjoying the fresh air of the night when suddenly, she heard her sister talking.

''Even though I was born blind, I've never had a problem seeing. I see with earthbending. It's kind of like seeing with my feet, '' she said. ''I feel the vibrations in the earth, and I can see where everything is-- you, that tree, even those ants. And also my sister around here somewhere,'' she chuckled at her words. Even though they didn't have the best relationship, it was nice hearing Toph call her her sister. It made her feel a bit normal, even if back at the house she was still an outcast.

She stopped paying attention to the two kids and lost herself in her thoughts, but she got out of her trance when she heard an unfamiliar voice. (Y/N) went running back to the house and desperately called her parents.

''What's the meaning of this?'' Asked her father, clearly annoyed at the noise.

''Toph and the Avatar! Someone took them!''

Everyone went outside, following her, and they realized that the captors had left a note.

''If you want to see your daughter again, bring 500 gold pieces to the arena,'' read the girl from the Water Tribe. ''And it's signed 'Xin Fu and The Boulder.'''

''Master Yu, I need you to help me get my daughter back.''

''We're going with you,'' said the waterbender.

''I wanna go, too,'' said (Y/N). She was looking at her father as the words left her mouth.

''No, you can't come, (Y/N), you-.''

''I don't care. I know you've broken the relationship between me and Toph, but she's still my sister and I want to go.''

''You're not a bender, (Y/N), it would only be for the worse.''

''You know I can help,'' she muttered, knowing that her father knew what she meant.

There was a small pause while they shared a look. ''Fine, you can come, but don't try to do anything you might regret.'' He walked away from her and soon they all headed towards the arena.

Once Toph was free, her father finally saw what she was capable of. The way back to the house was awkward, to say the least.

After the conversation that Toph had with her father, there was a bigger tension in the house than usual.

A few moments later, (Y/N) heard some noise close to her room, and when she opened the door a little, she realized that her sister was escaping. She considered the idea of staying home, of being the only Beifong daughter and she couldn't think of something worse.

So as fast as she could, she changed her clothes to something more comfortable and ran quietly outside.

"Wait, guys! Please!" Said (Y/N) while running towards the group. "I wanna come too," she told them. "Please?"

She could see how Aang, Katara and Sokka all started nodding with smiles on their faces, but whem she looked at Toph, her expression was completely different.

"You can't," said the girl.

"What? Why not?"

"Yeah, Toph, what's the problem?" Asked Katara.

"Look, (Y/N), I don't mean to offend you but why would you even come with us?"

"Because I don't belong here, and you know it."

"You're not a bender, you would only be a liability to us."

"Hey! Don't be like that, Toph!" Exclaimed Sokka.

(Y/N) already had some tears on her eyes but quickly got rid of them. She didn't want the others to see her cry.

Sokka got down from Appa and stood next to (Y/N). "(Y/N) is coming with us, okay? Now let's go, we don't want to waste any time." He grabbed the girl by the arm and helped her get on top of Appa.

During their whole journey away from the Beifongs' house, Sokka and (Y/N) talked a lot.

He liked having someone like him around, it made him feel like he wasn't so alone; and she liked feeling like someone cared a little bit about her.

The days went by and (Y/N) could finally tell that she'd found her new family. Even her relationship with her sister had improved significantly since they'd both left home.

Still, no one knew that she was actually a firebender. She hated lying to everyone but she also didn't know how to tell them; in her head, she thought that they wouldn't want her to be with them anymore, she was afraid.

"Hey, (Y/N)," she heard someone say. She looked up and saw Sokka standing next to her. He took a seat by her side. "What are you thinking about?"

"Hi, Sokka. It's nothing, really," she tried to sound convincing but knew that she'd failed. Out of everyone in the group, Sokka was the one she was closest to. She even had a little crush on him, and the fact that she was lying to him was destroying her.

"You always say that but I never believe you."

"I already told you, Sokka, I can't talk about it." She looked at him and he gave her a sympathetic look.

"You can tell me anything, (Y/N). And I promise I won't tell your secret to anyone else."

"No, I can't. You'd hate me if I told you, trust me."

"What? I could never hate you!" He exclaimed and she smiled a little. (Y/N) knew he believed what he was saying, but would it still be true even if he found out what she really was?

Sokka took one of the maps he'd taken from the library, trying to decipher it while still enjoying (Y/N)'s company.

"Waterbending bomb!" Katara yelled from afar, and then everyone saw her get into the water, splashing everyone.

"Sure, 5.000-year-old maps from the spirit library. Just splash some water on 'em," complained Sokka.

(Y/N) couldn't help but giggle a bit at his reaction.

They had to figure out a way to finally get to Ba Sing Se, and The Serpent's Pass seemed to be the only way, but that was until they met a couple that told them about the ferries.

However, the plan was a total failure, so the only option they had left was the dangerous Serpent's Pass.

It wasn't easy, but they eventually made it to the great city of Ba Sing Se. But there was something waiting for them there: a drill with the Fire Nation insignia on it.

It was obvious who was behind that, the Fire Nation princess herself, along with her two friends. Luckily, Sokka came up with a plan, they were going to take the drill down from the inside.

"Okay, we're gonna go with Toph and then we'll get inside of it, okay?" Sokka said.

They all nodded and got ready to go, but the earthbender suddenly stopped for a second.

"(Y/N), I think that you should stay here."

"What?" She was confused. They had been getting along a lot better lately, but that comment took her by surprise.

"You could get hurt, it's not safe. Plus, well, you can't bend and you know that."

"Toph, I can take care of myself, okay? I told you a million times before!"

"I know, but-."

"She's coming with us," interrupted Sokka. "She is one of us and we won't leave anyone behind, okay? And she's not helpless, Toph."

The little girl tried to say something, but the young boy didn't let her.

When they finally reached the drill, Toph stayed outside, and the rest of them went inside.

"I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points."

"Where are we gonna get something like that?" Asked Aang.

"Maybe we should break something, then some engineer would have to come to fix it," suggested (Y/N).

"Good idea," said Sokka, and he got on with it.

Once they had the map, they knew what they'd have to do, but it wasn't going to be easy.

Aang and Katara had to cut through the braces of the structure, but they turned out to be a lot thicker than they thought. They luckily realized they didn't have to cut all the way through them, instead it was enough with just cutting a little to weaken them.

All of them were focused on the braces, so the only one that noticed the three Fire Nation girls was (Y/N). She realized Azula was about to blast some fire towards Sokka, and she quickly pushed him away and instinctively threw some fire at her, too.

Everyone was shocked, even the three girls that were trying to fight them, but there was no time for explanations.

Katara, Sokka and (Y/N) escaped through the pipeline and even though the battle wasn't over, as soon as they were out of the drill Sokka started interrogating (Y/N).

"You were a firebender this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? And why doesn't Toph know? I mean, she's your sister and- Wait," he made a pause, suddenly realising something. "That was your secret, right?"

She nodded slightly, and looked away to try and hide her blushing face.

"(Y/N), how could you think we would ever hate you for that? That I would hate you?" She could see the hurt in his face, and she hated herself for it.

"The Fire Nation is the enemy, so I guess I figured you wouldn't want me in your team anymore if you found out where I'm really from."

"(Y/N), you can't change where you come from, and we would never hate you for that," said Katara in a sweet voice, still using her bending against Ty Lee.

Sokka wrapped his arms against (Y/N), which took her by surprise, but she quickly wrapped hers around his waist. "Thank you for protecting me back there. And once again, I could never hate you, okay?" They pulled away just a little to look at each other and then he kissed her forehead.

They knew they were still in the middle of a battle and that Katara was just a few meters away from them, but right there in that moment, it didn't matter. It was only (Y/N) and Sokka, wrapped around eachothers' arms, finally starting to realize their feelings for one another.

•••

TAGLIST

@talas-starlight @just-a-belgian-girl @sorrythatspussynal @siriuslyslyslytherin

#sokka #sokka x reader #sokka imagine #sokka fanfic #sokka fic #sokka atla #sokka avatar #atla x reader #atla imagine #atla fanfic #atla #atla sokka #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar fanfic

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besanii · 4 years

Text

shattered mirrors 60

[ WangXian ; 1379 words]

Wei Wuxian nibbles on the end of his brush, deep in thought as he pores over the papers spread out on the low desk before him, occasionally referring to the book in his other hand as he makes notes. His health has been steadily improving over recent months—thanks in part to the antidote Wen Yuan brought with him from Dongying, but also to the warmer weather as spring gives way to summer—and he finds he has more energy to expend on more strenuous activities that would have otherwise been impossible. So, with Lan Wangji and Mo Xuanyu’s enthusiastic encouragement, he starts dabbling in various hobbies to pass the time while Lan Wangji is away at court.

So engrossed in his work is he that he doesn’t notice a visitor entering the library until the sound of a throat being cleared startles him.

“A-Yu,” he admonishes, eyes closed as he presses a hand to his chest. “Please announce yourself next time you come in—”

“I’ll be sure to let Mo Xuanyu know,” a distinctly not Mo Xuanyu voice says drily. Wei Wuxian’s eyes fly open with a gasp.

“Nie-xiong!”

Nie Huaisang taps the corner of the closed fan against his lips, eyes twinkling as he watches delight replace the surprise on Wei Wuxian’s face.

“How are you, Wei-xiong?” he asks, giving Wei Wuxian an appraising once-over. “Married life suits you, I see. I suppose I should address you as Hanguang-wangfei now.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, setting aside his brush and book.

“Only in public,” he says. “You haven’t changed a bit since I saw you last.”

Nie Huaisang hums and nods his head, tapping his fan thoughtfully against his mouth.

“Fourteen years, I believe,” he agrees. “At Fan Tower.”

“I remember.” He smiles wistfully. “The night before the Discussion Conference. I never even got to see you afterwards, with all that happened.”

His hand goes almost instinctively to the scar on his shoulder, older and more faded than the others, the one that still gives him pain to this day. They had managed to save the arm in the end, but he remembers the recovery had been frustratingly boring and slow—the majority of the entourages from the visiting nations had gone home in the wake of the attack, leaving only the leaders to participate in the ensuing discussions leading up to the war. Nie Huaisang had returned to Qinghe on his brother’s orders and they had lost contact over the next year as the war progressed.

He shakes himself from his reminiscing and motions to the cushion in front of the desk.

“Please, please take a seat,” he says. “I’ll have someone bring us some tea.”

“No need,” Nie Huaisang assures him, lowering himself into the seat. “Your boy—Mo Xuanyu, was it?—he has already gone to fetch some from the kitchens.” His eyes dart over to the empty doorway. “He’s a smart boy. Where did you find him?”

Wei Wuxian scratches the bridge of his nose and frowns.

“Somewhere near Runan, I believe,” he says. “In a place called Mo Family Village. He’s the nephew of the late family matriarch.”

“Really now,” Nie Huaisang says. Something in the tone of his voice triggers Wei Wuxian’s curiosity; he lowers his hand and straightens his posture, alert, but Nie Huaisang waves his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. I thought I recognised the name, that’s all.”

“Of the village?” Nie Huaisang shrugs. Wei Wuxian rubs his chin. “It’s not a very large place and it doesn’t usually appear on any maps. But there was a rumour going around that the head of the family was a Lanling spy during the war and only settled in the area in recent years.”

Ah. Wei Wuxian’s posture relaxes.

“Not exactly a spy, no,” he says, tapping a finger against the desk idly. “But linked to Lanling, yes.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes light up.

“So you knew?” he asks with barely concealed excitement. “And here I thought I’d have to warn you about keeping a potential spy by your side.”

Wei Wuxian scoffs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Nie-xiong, really. I may be retired, but I still have the good sense to do background checks on everyone I keep around me,” he says with a good-natured roll of the eyes. “I took him in as a child after an…incident took his entire family. He hasn’t left my side since.”

“I see…” Nie Huaisang nods his head slowly. “Then he, too, is a pitiful child.”

“Perhaps that’s what brought us together,” Wei Wuxian says, half-jokingly. They exchange wry grins across the desk before he sighs and shakes his head. “Look at us both, sitting here reminiscing like two old men. Why don’t we move onto the real reason why you’ve come all the way from Qinghe then, Nie-xiong?”

“Aiyo, Wei-xiong, how can you think I came here for reasons other than to see?” Nie Huaisang tuts, voice reproving even as he slides a hand into the front of his robes and takes out a plain envelope that he places on the desk between them. “When the news reached Qinghe that you’d returned—and that you’d married Er-wangye!—I could scarcely believe it, so I absolutely had to come see for myself.”

He slides the envelope towards Wei Wuxian with a pointed look; Wei Wuxian takes it warily, his eyes never leaving Nie Huaisang’s as he removes the folded letter inside. Across the desk, Nie Huaisang sits back on his heels, unfolding his fan and fluttering it with quick, excited motions. His anticipation is enough to give Wei Wuxian caution, and he braces himself for whatever surprise its contents would have in store for him.

The handwriting catches his eye first.

The flowing script is immediately recognisable, the flourish at the end of the characters so indicative of the writer’s gentle touch, the brush strokes distinct. He had spent much of his youth reading letters by this hand, being soothed and comforted by its words; it has always carried with it the promise of home.

He exhales shakily through his nose, his eyes hot and nose stinging, and lowers the hand holding the letter to look at Nie Huaisang.

“How did you—?” he asks hoarsely. “Why—”

Nie Huaisang sighs, snapping his fan shut and tapping it against his open palm as he looks at the letter with a soft smile.

“We found them a few years ago,” he says. “One of our people came across them living with a nomadic tribe we have trade dealings with to the north. I knew you wouldn’t make contact with them yourself, so I had them send a letter instead.”

He gets to his feet with a loud sigh and fans himself with large, exaggerated motions.

“I haven’t done anything,” he says. “I’m only passing on a message from a mutual friend.” He winks. “Although, may I suggest sending a reply this time? This whole staying away for their protection thing is getting old, and I’m sure you’d like to meet your nephew.”

Nephew. Wei Wuxian’s heart is so full he fears he may burst. He traces the words on the letter with trembling fingers. Nie Huaisang hums.

“I think I’ll just take my leave,” he says. “I know you are a busy man nowadays, but do let me treat you to dinner before I go back to Qinghe. You may even bring your Wangye if you wish.”

That gets a choked laugh out of Wei Wuxian; he dabs at the corners of his eyes with his sleeve and rises to his feet, shaking out his sleeves so he can bow low at the waist with his fingers clasped before him.

“Thank you, Nie-xiong,” he says sincerely. “I owe you a great debt.”

Nie Huaisang stares at him a moment, his fan frozen in mid-flutter, before he turns and starts walking away with a sniff.

“You can thank me with dinner,” he says over his shoulder with a wave. “After you write that damned letter.”

Wei Wuxian watches him leave, the letter still clutched in his hand and the smile still on his lips. He doesn’t stop smiling for a very long time.

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#mdzs #wangxian #shattered mirrors fic #王爷机 X 花魁羡 #shattered mirrors au #lan wangji #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #no knives #courtesan!wwx #prince!lwj #my writing

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deiaiko · 4 years

Text

A New Life #2

< Part 1

It's morning, Khun got up first. He looked to where Bam is and seems like he's still in a very deep sleep. Khun got out slowly as not to wake him up and went to the bathroom to wash away the sleepiness off his face.

What was he thinking last night?! Brought home a homeless kid? That's not like him at all. He splashed the cold water onto his face. Maybe because he was really tired last night that his emotions took control of him. He splashed the water again and wiped his face with a nearby towel then stared at his reflection in the mirror. This will be so troublesome, he thought, but he can't just throw him out, can he? What done is done, he sighed.

Khun walked to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He measured some rice and put it in a rice cooker pan, might as well add half more cup cause he won't be eating alone this time. He rinsed the rice and pour the appropriate amount of water before turning on the rice cooker.

Then he placed a pan on the stove, heated some butter and cracked an egg then sprinkled it with salt and pepper to make a simple sunny-side-up. He repeated the steps again, and while doing so, he thought about what he should do with Bam.

He has no experience with kids, he won't be a great figure for him. Maybe he can report him to the police station? No, if he recall correctly, Bam despised the idea. Orphanage? No, he was there once, not that it's bad but he prefers not to be there, it reminded him of his old home and it's not a pleasant memory.

About time, the eggs are done and Khun put it on separate plates, he turned around to put them on the dining table just in time to see little Bam already got up and watches him curiously behind the wall.

"good morning", Khun motioned Bam to join him, but Bam quickly ran away. Khun was about to ask what he's up to but it's quickly answered as Bam came back with the cushion.

Bam placed the cushion on its original place but he sat on the floor instead, hoping Khun will use it this time.

Once again, Khun felt that warm feeling growing inside him, it won't hurt to keep the kid for now right? Maybe he could use a company.

They ate breakfast in silence, enjoying the meal and each other presence. It's weekend morning, and that means Khun is free today, he decided what to do. "let's get you a haircut", he suggested, "and then we can buy some new clothes and stuff for you".

Bam smiles and nods.

----------

They were just from the barbershop and Bam got his hair cut. His hair is now short and fluffy, Khun fought the urge to ruffle it, not to mention that he looks way cuter than before because of his big golden eyes. Now he only needs some new clothes and he'll be perfectly cute.

Bam stood in awe as he entered a huge shopping mall, like it's his first time going to a place like this, or maybe it is, Khun didn't comment or ask about it.

"here", Khun offered his hand, "so you won't get lost".

Bam gingerly took his hand but smiled afterwards.

They walk around in the clothes shop for almost an hour. Bam got some shirts, pants, underclothes and shoes, and Khun also insisted to buy him a jacket with animal ears hoody.

It's fluffy and warm, and Khun also said he looks cute when he wore it. Bam will surely treasure that jacket.

Khun is pleased, Bam's happy face is all he needs, the money that he spent was worth it.

Next is equipment. Bam needs a place to sleep but mattress is too big for his room, so they settled on sleeping bag instead, and Bam is perfectly okay with it. Might as well buy him a pillow, a blanket and a towel too.

When they about to get to the cashier, they passed by the kids section which is loaded with toys and dolls, and one particular doll caught Bam's attention. It's a. . .crocodile? But it's brown with red eyes, wearing a red shirt and navy blue short, just as big as a soccer ball. Nothing special about it but Bam couldn't get his eyes off it.

Khun noticed this as well, "do you want it?"

Bam quickly shook his head, he didn't dare to ask him for more, though his eyes betrayed him as he kept stealing a glance at the doll.

Khun stared at him before picking the doll and put it in their shopping cart.

Bam was surprised, happy, but also troubled. "is okay?", he asked shyly.

"of course", Khun gave him a smile, it's a relatively small price to buy his happiness.

Bam's eyes twinkled with joy and he smiles brightly, "thank yhu!"

They passed by a bookstore when they're about to leave the mall, and Khun thought it'll be very beneficial to give him some books to spend time with. "let's work on your vocabulary and pronunciation".

"vokabyulery? Prenensea—uhm?"

Khun chuckled and patted his head, "haha yeah, you have a lot to learn".

----------

They got home. It's past noon and Khun went to the kitchen to make lunch while Bam tries his best to tidy up the groceries. After they ate, Khun helped Bam with the remaining stuff.

It's a tiring weekend, when was the last time he walked that long? Khun flopped himself onto his bed and sighed in content as his body sank into the soft mattress.

Bam watches him curiously, holding his doll tightly in his arms. His face told Khun that he wants to say something.

"you should try to speak more often", Khun suggested, "it'll help you learn faster".

Bam nods, then followed by "okay". He approached Khun and asked him with a low voice while avoiding eye contact, "uhm, what shuld I call yu Mr. . .?"

Right. If he's not mistaken, he only said his name once, no wonder he forgot. "Khun, just call me Khun".

"Mr.Kun?"

"well, I guess that works too".

Satisfied, Bam smiled. Now that the question that bothered him since yesterday was answered, he yawned as the tiredness finally took over.

"tired too, aren't you?", Khun sat on the bed edge and lifted Bam up, 'he's very light', he thought. Then Khun placed him down next to him on the bed, 'only this time', he told himself. And they both fell asleep.

----------

Khun slept for about 2 hours before his phone decided to wake him up. "hello. Yeah. Yeah. Huh? Isn't it— Wait, why don't you—. Argh, okay okay", he hung up. Why can't his team be responsible for once? It's weekend darn it. He sighed and started to work on his laptop.

Luckily he only needs a few hours to fix it, just in time when Bam woke up.

"good evening, Bam".

"good ifning", Bam replied, still half asleep.

"are you hungry yet?"

Bam shook his head. He yawned and got up while Khun closed his laptop. Then they settled on taking a bath first before dinner. They take a bath together because Khun wants to make sure Bam does it right.

"no, it's not like that", Khun facepalmed internally and smiles at the same time. And yes, apparently Bam did it wrong, so he must teach him from the start.

"close your eyes", Khun pour some water on his head and Bam reflexively wiped his face with his hand. Khun took a white bottle, "this one called shampoo, it's to clean your hair".

"shampoo?"

"yes, that's it. Now give me your hand", Khun poured a little shampoo on his palm, "there, now put it on your hair and rub it until foamy".

Bam slapped his head with his palm and laughs when he did, earning a smile from Khun. He rubs his head in a weird and funny way that makes Khun couldn't contain his own laugh. The shampoo smells nice, Bam likes it.

"you don't need to do this everytime though, once every two or three days is enough".

Bam nods, some foam trickled down his forehead. Khun helped him wiped it away.

Then Khun took something from his side, "this is soap, give it some water and then rub it like this", he demonstrated, "after that, rub it all over your body", Khun gave Bam the soap, "make sure you didn't miss anything".

While Bam slowly but surely covering himself in soap, Khun works on getting himself clean as well.

And then Khun got a childish idea that Bam will surely likes. "hey Bam, look at this", he took a tiny bit of shampoo on his palm and gave it a few drops of water, he rubbed his hands and blew a bubble from between his fingers.

Bam looks in awe at the round rainbow floating thing in front of him, "pretty!".

"it's called a bubble".

"ah!", it popped.

Khun blew another one for him. He might regret this later, but now it doesn't really matter because Bam's reaction was priceless.

They eventually rinse themselves, Bam is excited to use his new towel, it's so soft and fits him well. And he's really thankful.

Khun started to cook dinner, and this time Bam finally has a chance to watch him from close by. Khun decided to make fried rice that they still have some rice left, he put some ingredient on the sink, "Bam, can you name some of this?", he tested.

"um. Eggs, onyens, carrots, meat, vejetables", he said while pointing at them.

"not bad", Khun praised, "but to be specific, these are sausages, these are mustard greens and this is cauliflower".

Bam took a mental note and nodded.

Khun prepares dinner while explaining to Bam the step-by-step. From rinsing and cutting to cooking and seasoning.

Bam's eyes twinkled as he stares at the fried rice, it looks and smells delicious and he realized how hungry he is when his stomach growled.

So they ate. Khun noted that the food tastes more pleasant than usual, somehow. Maybe it's because he's looking at Bam's pleased expression while eating, maybe because there's someone he can share the moment with, someone who radiates happiness over some trivial things. And Khun wants to keep it as long as he could.

#UwU #tower of god #tog #khun #khun aguero agnis #khun a.a #bam #baam #25th bam #25th Baam #my fanfic #my art #part 2 for my 1 year anniv of this fic release haha #might do part 3 but no promise #i have a lot of angst planned

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gusu-emilu · 3 years

Text

Cantatio: Chapter Ten

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying

Summary: Lan Wangji learns what really happened last night—regarding more people than he expected.

Cloud Recesses AU, Rated T - read on AO3

“But you, Lan Zhan? Letting a girl from the Wen Clan sneak in through your window, then tiptoeing around the Cloud Recesses after curfew with her, and then sword fighting without permission?

All of that is much, much more deplorable, Lan Zhan.”

< Ch. 9 | Ch. 11 > | chapter list

It was as if Lan Wangji had swallowed an entire bottle of vinegar.

His stomach lurched. His face burned. His throat blazed with the acrid taste, itching to cough up the single question that singed the fabric of his thoughts.

Wei Ying, who is in your bed?!

But Lan Wangji had well earned the title of Twin Jade. Like his brother, he was serene. Cool. Composed. Nothing could penetrate the fortress of his mind. Nothing could get under his skin.

Do not act impulsively. Harmony is the value. Speak meagerly, for too many words only bring harm. Train your body and your mind.

Coming back to center with the Gusu Lan Clan rules—which he had been ignoring too much lately—was his priority. Not whatever frivolous things his roommate did.

And yet.

A man was in Wei Ying’s bed.

A man who did not belong in their room.

But these emotions were irrational. Why should Lan Wangji care? The biggest problem here was that sleeping in another disciple’s dormitory was prohibited. That was why he cared..

“I hope you don’t mind, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian looked over at Lan Wangji as they stood in the doorway. “I had a guest over. But, well, you had a guest in your bed too, so it shouldn’t be that big of a problem.”

A lump formed in Lan Wangji’s throat.

He knew. He knew that Wen Qing had snuck into their room. Had he been awake the entire time, watching them and smirking from beneath his blankets, while a handsome man slept beside him?

“I did not. Invite her.”

“Okay, Lan Zhan. Whatever you say. You’ll be glad to know that I, at least, am maintaining our duplex as a place of hospitality. I did invite my guest in. Very willingly.”

Lan Wangji’s fists trembled.

Was Wei Ying purposely trying to aggravate him? Purposely trying to rouse a reaction from him? Purposely trying to make him feel jeal—

No. If this was his intention, the attempt had failed. He didn’t feel that unspeakable emotion at all. There was no reason to.

Wei Wuxian pranced into the room. The unknown man still slumbered in bed, snoring lightly. Lan Wangji remained fixed in the doorway, trapped in place as if the moonlight tied around him like a rope, pulling him away from this disturbing sight.

How had he not seen two people in the bed? How had Wei Ying snuck outside to buy wine in Caiyi Town without alerting him or Wen Qing?

Earlier, Lan Wangji had felt the slightest bit amused—horrified, yes, but still a touch humored—that he was blatantly violating Gusu Lan Clan rules on his side of the room while Wei Wuxian, the biggest troublemaker in the Cloud Recesses, was fast asleep, completely oblivious.

Well, maybe not that amused. It was shameful behavior.

But had the situation actually been the reverse? Had Lan Wangji been so absorbed in his stubborn guest that he hadn’t even noticed what was occurring across from him?

Finally, he croaked out the question.

“Who. Is that.”

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his neck and flashed a sheepish grin. “Haha. About that. There’s something else I need to tell you, Lan Zhan. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Lan Wangji’s only answer was to twitch his lower lip.

“He’s…uh…under a sleeping potion.”

“What?”

“It’s not anything weird, I swear! He did it to himself! Well, at least, sort of. It was a dare. He lost a bet to Huaisang. I think it cost him a little too much, though. I, uh…I might’ve used the opportunity to slip two or three of his coins from his pockets to buy some stuff.”

What kind of wicked games had Wei Ying been playing with this man? And Nie Huaisang had been involved too?

Wei Wuxian waved his hands in front of himself. “He’s fine! Really! He just went sleep. Really soundly.”

Despite their raucous voices, the man had not stirred from the bed. His leg still hung off its edge.

“What was. It.”

“Remember in Madam Yu’s class when some of my ingredients went missing? I mean, I know you were ignoring me, but we were sitting at the same table, and she, like, slapped me. You must’ve noticed.

“Anyway, turns out that when you make an insomnia remedy without jujube seeds, it gets way stronger. Makes you pass out within a minute. Wen Qing told me that after class. She said she would pour it down my throat if I didn’t stop trying to talk to her. I’m best buddies with her little brother though, how could she say something so rude to me? She’s really quite terrifying. And that needle she stuck in me? Such a scary woman. I can’t believe you let her in our dorm.”

Lan Wangji’s jaw tightened.

“But I’m getting off track. Since it was his”—he pointed at the sleeping man—“fault for getting my grade lowered, Huaisang and I decided that it was only fair he drank the mess that his selfishness had created. We bet him that if he couldn’t do a quadruple backflip after spinning in a circle for five minutes, he’d have to drink it. We didn’t think he’d actually agree to it.”

He paced the room as he continued the story, his hand gestures becoming more and more exaggerated. “And well, after he lost, Huaisang started teasing him. You know how Huaisang is, fan over his face, voice all singsong and provocative. But then Huaisang had to run away, because he got so mad, he was about to punch Huaisang! Still, he kept his word and drank the whole vial. Then he passed out. I didn’t want to carry him back to the dorm courtyard, because what if Nie Mingjue or Lan Xichen saw us? It was way past curfew, and it’s not exactly easy to hide when there’s a person draped over your shoulder. So I dragged him to our cozy little home and plopped him on my bed. You had been sound asleep. Didn’t even notice.”

As Lan Wangji listened, realization dawned on him. In Alchemy & Medicine class, a certain grumpy disciple had refused to give his jujube seeds to Wei Wuxian.

The man in the bed was Jiang Cheng.

Wei Ying’s brother.

Then he remembered another detail—Wei Wuxian had left an hour before curfew to play outside with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang. Lan Wangji noted bitterly that he hadn’t been invited.

As if Lan Wangji cared about any of this in the first place. He stomped over to his own bed and slid inside, shutting the blankets over himself with a violent sweep.

“Hahahaha, what kind of person do you think I am, Lan Zhan? Did I worry you? I was only doing a kind deed by letting my shidi rest in my bed until the potion’s effects wore off. And the Emperor’s Smile I bought was an apology gift for him when he woke up! At least, one jar of it was. It was his money, so it was only fair I let him have some.”

Wei Wuxian rubbed his hands together, like he was kneading dough he was about to roast in the oven. “But you, Lan Zhan? Letting a girl from the Wen Clan sneak in through your window, then tiptoeing around the Cloud Recesses after curfew with her, and then sword fighting without permission? And you destroyed my apology gift for Jiang Cheng! All of that is much, much, much more deplorable, Lan Zhan. I should take lessons from you. And you know, you really have to fill me in on this closet of yours. Maybe then, I’ll finally tell you how I animated the pixiu.”

Lan Wangji clenched his eyes shut and clamped the blankets over his ears, his face burning redder by the minute, a headache clawing at his temples, his mind trudging through a recitation of the Gusu Lan Clan’s core philosophies and not thoughts of his roommate.

They went to sleep without exchanging another word.

* * *

The next morning, Lan Wangji’s face was sticky with sweat. He dabbed it off with a warm washcloth, hoping to also wipe away the events of last night. But when he looked down, the coarse fabric only contained his salty perspiration. Not the fourteen rules he broke, not the frenzied twang of the guqin, not the sunken cadaver eyes he saw in the mingshi, not the buzz he felt while sparring with Wei Wuxian, not the inexplicable spite that gripped him at the thought of his roommate sharing a bed with a strange man, not the embarrassment that buried him afterward.

He felt…

Felt…

Haunted.

Who was the girl whose corpse hung in the mingshi? How did the guqin play itself? Why did Lan Wangji’s closet lead him to the tower that held them both?

How did Wei Ying affect him so much?

And why did he feel like with every step he took, he lost more and more of his dignity?

He sighed into the towel.

He needed time to process. Even the Second Young Master of the Lan Clan had a limit to the mayhem he could endure before longing to retreat into his shell. He still needed to discipline himself for his misconduct. No, he needed to report himself to his uncle. It was time. He had broken enough Lan Clan rules to last a year.

And now there were two mysteries to solve—the closet, and the mingshi.

Yet this morning, there was nothing left to do but meditate, meditate, and then meditate a little harder. He stood in the grass outside his dorm in the most challenging meditation posture. He deserved the pain, after all. It was nothing compared to what he’d receive after reporting his infractions to his uncle.

It was not a fruitful meditation session.

Once Jiang Cheng woke up in the dormitory, he wobbled around and sputtered incoherent nonsense for several minutes. Then he regained his senses and began hollering at Wei Wuxian, slugging punches at him, throwing hard objects at him. Lan Wangji was grateful for the silence after his roommate fled out of the duplex with the attacker at his heels and did not return.

At least there were classes to look forward to.

But apparently, even the pleasure of academics was to be robbed of him today.

When Lan Wangji arrived in the central courtyard of the Cloud Recesses, ready to enter his uncle’s classroom and nourish himself with more knowledge of Trans-Himalayan poetry, he was blocked by a clamoring crowd of disciples. The clan leaders stood gravely outside the Main Hall, murmuring to each other with obvious distress. Jin Guangshan looked the most outraged of all, floating from leader to leader with shaking fists and a running mouth like a hot air balloon that kept getting blown around.

Morning classes were cancelled.

A guardian lion statue outside the mingshi had come to life and escaped.

A guardian lion.

Would the chaos never end? This was not the peaceful Cloud Recesses Academy that he had heard about from Lan Xichen.

At that thought, he decided to search for his brother.. He slinked between chattering disciples until he spotted the sapphire robes, silken black hair, and white cloud-patterned headband that only looked that way on the elder Twin Jade.

“Brother.”

“Good morning, Wangji,” Lan Xichen said. He had been speaking to Jiang Yanli, whose eyes were puffy and red.

Lan Wangji glanced with concern at Jiang Yanli, scanned the commotion surrounding them, then stared at his brother with an expression that asked, What is going on?

“Have you heard? Last night the guardian lion from the mingshi captured a disciple and dragged him into the forest. A search team is hunting for them as we speak.”

"Whom?”

Lan Xichen’s eyes wandered to Jiang Yanli.

“…Jin Zixuan,” she said.

Jin Zixuan had been out at around the same time last night as Lan Wangji to scold the Lan Clan servant. At least, that was what the conversation of Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangyao had seemed to indicate.

When Lan Wangji and Wen Qing had exited the mingshi, both of its guardian lion statues were intact and in place. Did the lion come to life and attack Jin Zixuan shortly after they had left? By how many minutes had they missed it? Who even had enough spiritual energy to animate it?

“Serves him right, too,” said Nie Mingjue, who had just marched over from the group of clan leaders. “Little snot-robed bastard had it coming, spitting backwash on his honor like that.”

Lan Xichen braced at the word ‘honor’ and gave a cautious glance at Jiang Yanli, as if afraid his friend’s words would draw fresh tears from her eyes. “Mingjue, no disciple deserves such a fate. And Young Master Jin is quite proficient. He will easily be able to keep himself safe and will return shortly.”

“Pah. I have no sympathy for a coward who would disrespect a lady like that. The lion can have him.”

This time it was Jiang Yanli who flinched at his words. Her lips paled, but she pinched them together and stood a bit taller.

Nie Mingjue did not realize that the woman Jin Zixuan had slighted was actually standing before him. His careless words only drove the nuptial dagger deeper into her wound.

Having never been in love himself—and not supposing he would be anytime soon—Lan Wangji did not know what it felt like to harbor unrequited affections for someone. But somehow, this day, he was able to imagine it more clearly than ever.

It was almost...real.

“Clan Leader Nie should not speak such words given his current company,” Lan Wangji said with a respectful bow of his head.

Nie Mingjue raised his eyebrows, but he did not seem offended. “As you deem fit, Second Young Master Lan. Anyway, where’s Huaisang?” he said with a bite in his tone.

“Just listen for my didi or A-Xian. You will find him nearby,” Jiang Yanli said.

“Hmph. Those two would be wise to find a more useful friend. He still hasn’t picked up a saber since he got here,” Nie Mingjue grumbled before stomping away. Baxia shivered atop the rippling muscles of his back, as if it, too, thought that Nie Huaisang’s lack of saber practice was the disgrace of the century.

Lan Xichen’s eyes twinkled. “Wangji, I did not know you were aware of the true nature of the…gift incident that occurred yesterday evening.”

Lan Wangji blinked. “Nor was I aware you knew.”

“Young Master Wei informed me just minutes ago. I immediately came to speak to Lady Jiang.”

Jiang Yanli smiled at them. “Thank you, both of you. But Young Master Jin is the one who needs our prayers. Don’t worry yourselves over me. It had been my choice. Young Master Jin’s reception of the gesture was not mine to control. I only wish he had known it was me. Not because I long for the credit, but because then he would not have sought out the Lan Clan servant and been seized by the guardian lion.” She sighed. “I truly hope he is safe.”

Lan Wangji’s chest tightened at these words. Jiang Yanli’s selflessness reminded him of the care his own brother bestowed upon him, and everyone else they met.

He decided that he needed to divulge last night’s events. For Jin Zixuan’s sake, which by extension, meant Jiang Yanli’s sake.

“Is it known at what time Young Master Jin was captured?”

“Only an estimate,” Lan Xichen said.

“I had been outside the mingshi minutes before you left the dormitory path with Clan Leader Nie and Young Master Jin Guangyao. At the time, both guardian lions were stationary. This information may help locate them faster.”

“Thank you, Wangji. This is very helpful. I’ll inform the clan leaders.” He paused, then tilted his head and said, “What were you doing outside last night?”

Lan Wangji looked to the side. “With company,” he said, intentionally vague.

“Young Master Wei?”

Of course his brother saw right through him.

He nodded.

“Young Master Wei has had quite an influence on you recently.”

Lan Wangji bit the inside of his mouth, hoping the pinch would fight back the rosy blush blanketing his cheeks. At least Lan Xichen would never guess that Wen Qing had been there too.

“He carried liquor. I apprehended him,” Lan Wangji said. “I accept punishment for my transgressions. I will report myself to Uncle.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes sparkled like the wine Wei Wuxian had carried. “Why not have a drink with Young Master Wei instead?”

Lan Wangji gaped at his brother in horror.

These were the same words Wei Wuxian had spoken to him so shamelessly while flaunting the jars of Emperor’s Smile. Lan Wangji had never tasted alcohol, but he imagined that the tingle he felt at this thought couldn’t be that different from drunkenness.

Lan Xichen only met Lan Wangji’s offended gaze and laughed.

At least this conversation seemed to brighten Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian can come on strong, but he has a good heart. I’m glad you two are roommates. He’ll be a good friend.”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Try to keep him from self-sabotaging too much.”

“I shall.”

Lan Wangji had said it. So he would do it. Somehow, a part of him desperately wanted to.

As the events of the day unfolded, it turned out that Wei Wuxian would need his help much sooner than he expected.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 11 > | chapter list

#mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #wangxian fanfiction #wangxian fanfic #mdzs #the untamed #cql #cql fanfic #wei wuxian #lan wangji #cantatio #wei ying #lan zhan #wangxian #emilu fics #emilu creations

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drivingsideways · 4 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

So @rain-hat said I should post a bit from the latest fic so she can read it (properly formatted and not in a chat window, I think??), so here’s a bit from an as yet untitled fic set post-canon verse TKEM, featuring our favourite cop-who-got-a-different-life and also orphan-who-got-a-different-life thanks to Lee Gon being a total ass.

The White Lily Orphanage isn’t a state organization, instead it’s run by the nuns from the Sisters of the St.Paul of Chartres Convent, one of the earliest established Catholic orders in the Kingdom. It’s not a large home- they have the ability to take in around twenty children at a time, though at the moment they have only half the number. The youngest right now is a three year old ball of sunshine, Jia and the oldest is the lanky fourteen year old Jihun. Hyeon-Min has been attending Mass at the church attached to the convent with eomma since- well, since he was ten.

(God sent Prince Buyeong to us, eomma had said, having found God via the kindness of a stranger, we must be grateful.

Hyeon-min had accepted her explanation then, and now, twenty years later, he doesn’t feel the need to tarnish her faith with his cynicism. He maybe agnostic about God, but he knows that the sisters are kind, that they try to do their best by their young charges, and that’s enough.

He knows enough about the world that he believes that one of its rules should be to pass on the kindness of strangers.)

He parks his bike and grabs his gym bag with the change of clothes, noting a rather beaten up looking sedan in the parking lot. Perhaps there were some potential adopters visiting today, not a very frequent occurrence.

The rates of adoptions in Corea were low, compared to the number of children who needed families. Usually, children who lost their parents were taken in by grandparents, if they were still alive, or the parents’ siblings, if they were not. The ones who ended up in the system- they were truly society’s rejects, the ones who had no one left who cared about them; a patrilineal society obsessed with bloodlines didn’t see them as anything but an inconvenience, or a shameful secret. That their own king was an orphan was not a hypocrisy; Lee Gon was king first, orphan second.

The slack with respect to the less nobly orphaned was picked up by religious or charitable trusts, and only a little by the government. The rules governing adoption were prohibitive- Seo Ryeong had told him about the circles that eomeonim and she had to run to officially take Gyeong-ah into the family. At some point, it had come down to bribery. She’d been tight-lipped and her eyes had glinted in fury, when she’d told him, though it had already been far enough in the past that Gyeong-ah no longer woke up crying from nightmares, and didn’t stuff her food down at each meal as though she didn’t know when she’d next get one, or try to take as little room as possible in their already tiny apartment.

Gyeong-ah usually accompanies him on these visits too, though she couldn’t make it today.

“LET ME SLEEP” she’d texted in all caps, “I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE FOR AT LEAST 24 HRS HYUNGNIM” .

He figured that meant she’d drop by when he wasn’t around.

Jia-ya is the first one to spot him when he enters the common room, which is where the kids are normally, at this hour. She runs toward him, almost tripping on her toes, with her hands already raised high above her head. He drops the bag on the floor and swings her up, twirling her around, while she squeals delightedly. When he lowers her, she throws her arms around his neck, placing a candy-sticky kiss on his cheek.

“Hyungnim, where were you??” she demands. “You’ve gone so long that Chia forgot you”.

Chia is her favourite toy- a rather ratty looking cloth panda.

“Sorry Jia-ya” he says, “I had a lot of work”

She pouts. “Have you got chocolate?”

“Mmmhmm” he replies, nodding, “But let’s share with everyone later, ok?”

He puts her down on the floor, and turns to the others who’ve come up, all grinning, except Jihun, who’s trying to look unconcerned, remaining where he’s seated at one of the two computers, headphones in, fingers flying rapidly over the keyboard.

“Hey everyone” he says, reaching out to ruffle a head, tweak a chin. “Ready for a game?”

They’ve got a small basketball court at the back, not professional, by any means, but enough for the kids to work out some of their energy. For soccer, and other games, Gyeong-ah and he take them to a nearby sports club. Ryeong-ah had been the one who worked out a deal with the local residents association that owned the club when she’d made Assemblywoman; it was her constituency after all, and she had cultivated her relationships at local level, as much as she had in the higher echelons. Thanks to (former) Assemblywoman Koo, the kids now had access on alternate Sundays to the club. Luckily, the Sisters of St.Paul of Chartres weren’t too strict about preserving the holiness of the Sabbath rest; as long as the kids attended Mass in the morning, the rest of the day could be spent as they wished. Today is a Sunday when they don’t have access to the sports club, so Hyeon-Min’s plans are adjusted accordingly- a game, then lunch with everyone, and then piling them all into the small van the orphanage has and taking them for ice cream, before he has to drop back at the station, just to check in on Woo Ji-hyun and Bo-Young who have the day shift today.

“Where’s Sister Lee?” he asks, and twelve-year old Su-bin pipes up “She has a visitor today” and her twin, Yun-seo adds, “He’s a handsome oppa”.

“Is he now?’ Hyeon-min grins down at her.

“Not as cool as you, hyungnim” she assures him earnestly.

“Drop the flattery” he tells her seriously, “You’re not getting an extra scoop later. Everyone go on and get changed.”

The twins and the others- Ming-yu, Jun-ho, Min-su, Seong-min, Min-ji and Eun-ji- dart off.

He picks up his bag again, heading off to the guest room to get changed, calling “Jihun-a, c’mon, let’s go” only to get a shoulder lifted in a shrug, Jihun not even bothering to look at him.

Well, he thought, that was new.

He didn’t press him, confident that Jihun would find his way out later. The problem, perhaps, was that Jihun was a few years older than the others, almost fifteen, ready for high school. The next oldest were the twins, at twelve, and the others fell between nine and eleven, except Jia, who was everybody’s darling at three.

Jihun was preparing to write the same scholarship exam that Hyeon-Min had taken all those years ago, to get into CNA. His grades at the local public school were pretty good, and he excelled especially at art- but it was a tough school to get into, given the sheer number of candidates applying, even more than when Hyeon-Min and Ryeong-ah had given the test.

Hyeon-min thought he could recognize in Jihun the same kind of hunger that he’d seen in Ryeong-ah, all those years ago. And just like all those years ago, one part of him was amazed, and proud; another was just scared for Jihun, for what the world might do to him, outside of the safety of this place. He tried to shrug the fear off- what use could it be to Jihun- and had begun helping him prepare for the test, instead.

Perhaps Jihun was upset because he hadn’t been able to come by for three weeks, although he’d spoken to him a few times on the phone and had checked in with Sister Lee as well.

When he changes into his shorts and t-shirt and comes back to check in, Jihun’s disappeared. Perhaps he’d changed his mind and decided to join the game, after all.

He’s about to duck out of the room, when Sister Lee comes in accompanied by a young man- the “handsome oppa” of Yun-seo’s description, clearly.

“Ah, Inspector Kang” she says, giving him her usual warm smile. “Good morning. You finally have a day off, I see.”

“Good morning, Sister Lee” he greets her, bowing.

She turns to the man with her.

“This is Senior Inspector Kang Hyeon-min from Busan PD” she says, and the man gives him a strangely assessing look, and bows. He’s fair, slightly shorter than Hyeon-Min, a dark eyes and a sharp nose in a square-jawed face. The glasses and the clothes- a light blue button down shirt that’s unbuttoned at the collar over khaki slacks, give him the look of a librarian on vacation. He’s probably a few years younger than Hyeon-Min.

“I’m Kim Jun-Yeong” he says, bowing toward Hyeon-Min.

“Mr.Kim teaches art at the school” she says, meaning the local public school all the kids here attend. “He came by to talk about Jihun.”

“Is something the matter?” Hyeon-min asks, immediately. “Is Jihun in trouble?”

“Nothing like that” Mr.Kim says, with a smile. “In fact, I came by to chat with Sister Lee about Jihun’s future plans. He told me that he was preparing for admission at CNA.”

Hyeon-Min nods. “I’m trying to help out” he says. “When I can.”

“Inspector Kang has been a huge support to the children here for years” Sister Lee says, giving him another warm smile. “And since he’s a CNA alumnus himself, he��s probably the best suited to help Jihun ace the exam.”

“Yes, of course”, Mr.Kim says, adding, “Jihun-a has told me a lot about you already, Senior Inspector Kang.”

“Oh” says Hyeon-Min, politely, “He’s never mentioned you to me.”

Something wry passes over Mr. Kim’s face at that, and it makes Hyeon-min feel a little silly.

“Mr. Kim is of the opinion that Jihun should perhaps try for an art school later” Sister Lee says, “And finish high school at some school less demanding than CNA, Kang-ssi”.

“Did Jihun-a say that’s what he wants to do?” Hyeon-min asks, stunned. Jihun had never mentioned it to him.

There’s an awkward silence.

“He did seem open to the idea” Mr.Kim says, sounding a little apologetic. “He started asking me about art schools and scholarships a while ago. I didn’t know then that you were already preparing him for the CNA entrance.”

‘But” says Hyeon-min, feeling like the rug had been pulled from under his feet.

Sister Lee says, thoughtfully, “Perhaps he was uncomfortable bringing it up with me or you, Kang-ssi.”

“We never forced him”, Hyeon-min feels compelled to protest.

“Jihun-a admires you a lot, Kang-ssi” Mr.Kim murmurs, “It is but natural he would want to follow in your footsteps.”

Hyeon-min looks at him and meets that calmly assessing look again.

“Did he ask you to meet Sister Lee and talk about this?”

“No” says Mr.Kim, “He didn’t. In fact, I think he was a little upset when he saw me today.”

Well, that explained earlier, Hyeon-Min realizes.

“Will you—” starts Sister Lee, nodding toward back, from where they can already here the shouts of the children.

“Yes” Hyeon-Min answers. “I’ll have a chat with him.”

“Good” she says, smiling again at him. “I’ll talk to him later as well.”

She turns to the teacher.

“Mr.Kim, I really appreciate your dropping by. It’s not often we get teachers who are so concerned with the well-being of our students.”

Mr.Kim says, quietly, “I was brought up in a home too- not as good as this one” he adds. “I know what it’s like.”

Oh.

Well, now, Hyeon-Min feels like a total piece of shit.

“Thank you, Kim-ssi” he says, and tries to infuse it with something more than stiff formality.

Mr.Kim gives him a short nod.

“I’d better head over before the fighting starts” Hyeon-min says, giving Sister Lee a smile. “I’ll see you at lunch, Sister Lee.”

They part ways, and when Hyeon-min reaches the court just in time to stop Min-ji from punching Eun-ji in the face, he sees that Jihun is there as well, but sitting on the side-lines, playing with Jia, although he’s changed into game clothes as well.

He darts a glance at Hyeon-min and then quickly looks away, flushing.

Hyeon-min jogs up to him.

“Get in” he says, clapping him on the back, “So I don’t have to keep the peace all by myself”

Jihun looks up at him, uncertain, as though he’d expected Hyeon-min to be- angry- with him.

“Jihun-a” he says, holding out a hand toward him, “ C’mon.”

Jihun takes his hand and lets himself be hauled up, and Hyeon-min even manages to get a one-armed hug in before he scampers off, suddenly cheerful.

It’s a good game, and after, as they’re all chattering at the lunch table, Gyeong-ah comes in and plonks herself down opposite the twins, and they stuff themselves to the gills before piling into the van.

Gyeong-ah’s driving, and as they pull out of the gate, Hyeon-min notices a black Hummer parked in the alley, five cars away, the glasses shaded so dark, he can’t see inside.

He has an idle moment of wondering what a car like that was doing in the neighbourhood but is distracted by Jia-ya climbing into his lap to tell him all about Chia’s adventures in the place she calls “Funderland” (like Wonderland, but fun, she insists).

On the way back, Gyeong-ah drives again, and this time the kids are mostly in a food coma, some of them burping softly, sprawling on the seats, so he gets a chance to talk to Jihun, settling beside him, right at the back.

“So” he says, “art school, huh?”

Jihun glances at him quickly and then away, head bent.

“Do you know which ones you’re interested in?”

Jihun looks up then.

“You’re not angry?” he asks, uncertainty writ large on his young face.

“Just surprised” Hyeon-min admits. “Why didn’t you ever tell me or Sister Lee? You know we wouldn’t have stopped you.”

He shrugs, looking away.

“Everyone’s expecting me to become the first CNA graduate from the home” he says, softly. “All these years”.

“Nobody wants you to be anything other than happy, Jihun-a” Hyeon-min contradicts him, gently. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you any other idea.”

Jihun turns to him.

“I did think I wanted that too” he says, candidly. “But then—I don’t know, hyungnim, frankly, it sounds like an awful place in other ways.”

“Who’ve you been talking to?” Hyeon-min asks, surprised, because he’d never said anything to Jihun about it other than good things about the academics, and the opportunities it would open up for him.

Jihun gives him a pitying look.

“Hyungnim” he says, “You know the internet is a thing right? Or was it not a thing when you were young?”

“Hey” he says, “I’m thirty-one, not a dinosaur.”

Jihun looks unconvinced.

“Student forums” he says, helpfully. “And even Mr.Kim—”

“Mr.Kim went to CNA?” Hyeon-min asks, surprised again.

“No” says Jihun, “But I think he knows people. He’s a teacher, right, he knows this stuff.”

“Hmm” says Hyeon-min, miffed.

Jihun eyes him again. “Are you angry I didn’t tell you, but I told Mr.Kim?”

Wow, Hyeon-min thinks, dissected by a fourteen-year old, wonderful.

“Don’t give me your backchat, Jihun-a” he says, and Jihun grins at him.

Hyeon-min diverts the talk into the art schools he’s interested in, and they spend the rest of the ride like that.

Later, before Gyeong-ah and he head off, they have a talk with Sister Lee.

Sister Lee Jeong-hui- or “Dragon Lady” as Gyeong-ah liked to call her- was a petite woman with delicate wrists, and long fingered hands that poked out of the sleeves of her habit. Unlike most of her contemporaries, she’d joined the Order, not as a young girl, but in her mid-thirties, after making a name for herself as a labour rights lawyer, working up north, in the mining communities. She’d moved to Busan when her health took a downturn- her asthma was something terrible- and she’d been shunted around the diocese until ending up at the orphanage ten years ago. She’d taken one look at the lackadaisical administration of the Orphanage- then run by Sister Pa, who was already in her seventies, taken a deep breath, and got to work. She’d transformed the place, scrounging funding wherever she could- sometimes by just persistently annoying the powers that be- and was currently in a long drawn out battle with the Bishop of the Diocese over her demand that they expand their current home to start a support home for single mothers- the people most likely to abandon their children, for lack of resources and societal stigma.

They talk about her latest efforts in that direction, after Hyeon-min tells her about his conversation with Jihun.

“Thank you Inspector Kang” she says, softly, “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Of course not” he says, staunchly, though perhaps he was, a little. “Jihun’s going to be great at whatever he does.”

“Yes” she agrees, a fond smile transforming her rather grave face into loveliness. “He’s a blessed child”.

“Anyway” she says, sighing, “Perhaps it’s just as well. Even with a scholarship, funding for other expenses would have always been a tension. This way, we have some time to prepare before he goes to art school.”

Gyeong-ah says, “What did the Welfare Association say?”

When the Diocese had hummed-and-hawed about the home for women, Sister Lee had turned elsewhere.

Sister Lee makes a rather un-saintly face. “That government policy doesn’t include- and you won’t believe this, or perhaps you will- doesn’t include subsidizing and rewarding irresponsible behaviour”.

“I thought Ryeong-ah said they had a specific budget for women’s welfare” Gyeong-ah says, hotly. “They can’t deny it only to some women, can they? Plus it’s a discretionary budget.”

Sister Lee sighs. “Child, I don’t know if I have the energy to fight that battle right now. If we had someone on the Committee there- but it’s all bureaucrats who think of it as a sinecure position really…”

She shrugs, and pats Gyeong-ah’s shoulder, comforting.

“I’m not giving up, Seo-Gyeong” she says, “Not yet.”

They bid her goodbye.

As she puts on her helmet and climbs onto the bike, Gyeong-ah says, abruptly, “Sometimes I’m so angry with unnie for what she did- because she fucked up her chance to help people like Sister Lee, who really need her”.

“ Song & Kim will get her out” he says, “Right?”

“But what about after?” she argues, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Her political career is probably over.”

“It’s never over with Ryeong-ah” he reminds her, belting his own helmet, and adjusting the strap of his gym bag over his jacket.

As they drive out of the gate, he sees that the Hummer isn’t there anymore.

#wip wednesday #tkem #this entire section is full of characters #that i have no idea where they came from #they just wrote themselves in #DO NOT BLAME ME #'WRITE A ROM COM ' SHE SAID #' I WILL '#I SAID #AND THEN I DIDN'T

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thebaddie96-blog · 3 years

Text

Once In A Life Time

~Chapter 2~

My Airbnb was a cute yet small studio with a great view of the city. There were stairs that lead to a queen bed above the kitchen, shit I even have a bidet. I don't even know how to work that thing but I'm sure as hell gonna use it.

“Ok B, it's your first day in South Korea. What are you gonna do?’”

“Mmmhmm well I don't know Be-Be let us think!!”

"K Dramas!!!" I yell and rush to turn on the TV. I settle into a show called 'Revenge Note' but not even 5 minutes into the show I start to doze off.

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

*buzz buzz* *buzz buzz*

"Mmm." *buzz buzz* "ugh."

Slowly I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing in my ear. Grabbing it I answer without looking, much to my regret.

“BE-BE!!! HOW DARE YOU WORRY ME LIKE THIS?" I pull back the phone checking the caller I.D.

"Min-ho?"

"So now you remember your friends. Are you sleeping? You've been in Korea for 6 hours and you chose to sleep!!" Ugh he is so dramatic.

"Chill Min-Min ok it was a 14 hour flight cut me some slack and on top of that my entire outfit got ruined by some sexy tattooed god. Which reminds me I still have to change."

"Sexy Tattooed God??? Give me the phone. Hello?"

"So-eun heyyyy girly."

"Don't hey girly me, we will be at your place in 20min be ready." And with that she hung up.

Ugh great.

Min-ho and So-eun are old friends of mine. I've known them for about 5 years when they came to America to study abroad at the same college I was in. Even though I didn't stay in school I stayed in contact with them. Sometime around their senior year they decided it would be a good idea to date and have been together ever since. Min-ho is pretty outspoken but a softy at heart, but So-eun she is a force to be reckoned with.

I really just wanted to sleep. The flight was really long and I need time to refresh my senses. Sighing I get up, take a quick 5 minute shower then put on some black ripped skinny jeans and a black top. Just as I get my shoes on Min-Min calls me letting me know they are here. Welp here we go.

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

We sat inside a Korean BBQ restaurant and god I didn't realize how hungry I was. My friends could barely get in a word as they watched me chomp down on the several beef strips Min-Min grilled for us.

"Ok ok B, slow the fuck down.선량" So-eun request looking around the restaurant at all the eyes watching amazed I could consume so much. I swallow hard then burp sitting back in my chair.

"Sorry I didn't realize how hungry I was and the food is so good!" I say scoping a big chunk of white rice in my mouth.

“Babe i’m so glad you're here. I’ve missed you so much.” Min-ho says pulling me into a hug. “How was the flight in? Did you navigate your way to the airbnb well? Why didn’t you call us when you landed? you know we would have come get you. Why were your clothes ruined? These are questions I need answers to."

“Min-ho! Chill ok. The flight, the flight was... rough but I made it. I didn’t really navigate myself to my airbnb but I got there safe. I told you I wanna experience Seoul for myself. And the answer to the last question; it's an un- interesting story.” I finished stuffing more meat in my mouth.

“Great we love un-interesting stories.” So-eun states snatching my chopsticks out of my hand. I roll my eyes slouching back in my seat.

“Really it's nothing, I was waiting for my taxi, a private car zoomed up to the curb and in the process splashed a shit ton of dirty street water all over me. The driver and his boss felt bad so they offered to drive me to my airbnb.” They just sat there staring.

“Ok… and when does the sexy tattooed god come into the story.” Min-ho say mimicking my statement from earlier. So-eun slaps his shoulder motioning for him to be quiet.

“The boss of the driver was the sexy tattooed god. But he was weird, he kept smiling at me and wasn’t really listening to anything I was saying it was just let me wipe your face this let my driver drive you that. I mean come on he didn’t even know me. I could have killed his driver and stolen the car."

“But you didn’t.” So-eun says smiling

“Shut up!” rolling my eyes I throw a piece of kimchi at her. “He told his driver to give me his card In case I “need” any extra help."

“That's great, let me see his card.”

“I don’t have it, it's back at the airbnb.” I quickly snatch back my chopsticks and continue eating.

“Well did you at least get his name?” Min-ho asked.

“Nope he never said and I didn’t really look at the card.” They both just roll their eyes giving up. “ His diver did refer to him as Mr. Yu tho”

“Ok that could be anyone in South Korea.”

I just shrug trying to enjoy my meal. I didn’t come to Korea for guys no matter how beautiful or sexy they might be. No matter how well designed and applied their tattoos are.

“When is your meeting with AMOG?”

“Not till Friday. I came early to hang out, sight see and shop.”

“I still can't believe they are thinking of signing you on as a label choreographer.” So-eun gushes.

“Thats not why they’re calling me in. Besides it’s all thanks to Min-Min if he hadn’t slipped Jay Park my youtube channel I doubt I would be here.”

“Nope don’t do that, he found you I just simply stated you were my best friend in the whole world at our last photoshoot.” Min-ho went to school for fashion design and styling. He is on the come up as one of South Korea's top stylists. And So-hun is his manager, don’t let her personality fool you when it comes to business shawty doesn’t play.

"Welp either way it's just a trial. To see how i fit in with the group, and how much of a demand Im needed/ wanted."

I've been dancing for pretty much my whole life but I stopped my freshman year of college after my mom passed. She really wanted me to be a lawyer or psychologist or something like that so I tried to do it her way. But one day I had a dream about her and she told me how happy she was that I would think to follow the dream she had for me but she would be much happier if I followed my own dreams. After I woke up I quit school and started dancing full time. Crazy right but if I didn't have that dream I honestly don't know where I would be right now.

"You'll do great!! Don't second guess you're self." I just nod shrugging it off. Im really just happy to be here. If it works out it works out if it doesn't…..then even will be ok. I hope.

“I have to go pee.”

“Great thanks for sharing.” Getting up I stroll to the bathroom and flash a smile over my shoulder. Min-ho pulls So-eun into a hug and kisses her forehead. Aww they are so cute. I throw them one last look and head toward the bathroom.

After doing my do I quickly washed my hands. I do 2 quick poses checking my outfit then exit the door.

“Dude your drunk! Watch out!” I turn my head to the commotion coming from my right. Some guy clearly drunk off his shits was attempting to dance on one of the tables in the restaurant.

“Leave me alone you party pooper.” he suddenly picks up a hand full of Sigeumchi Namul and chucks it at the guy smearing the seasoned green vegetable on his face and shirt. The drunk guy on top of the table proceeds to laugh his ass off. The other guy now irritated picks up a hand full of Oi Muchim and throws it very forcefully at the man laughing hysterically. Suddenly he slips in his drunken fit smashing to the ground near their table. The Oi Muchim that was originally meant for the namji on the floor sprung through the air toward my direction. It was as if everything was in slow motion. So-eun and I had the same reaction oh shock as the one who inflected the throw eyes burst open as a look of ‘oh fuck’ crossed his face.

Well isn’t this just great. With not enough time to react I felt the slippery red sauce splat on my chest and neck and the green cucumbers creating their own personal design on my belly. Just great.

The guy who threw the Oi Muchim sprinted from his table towards me forgetting about his friend who now looks passed out on the floor.

“I am so sorry, that was not meant for you.” he speaks with an incredibly deep voice. almost demonic like. I give him a "no shit Sherlock" look then proceed to flick the access food off of me.

“ You had better be are you fucking kidding me, why don’t you and your drunk of a friend go to a bar if you’re gonna do shit like this.” So-eun dashes from our table next to me helping me clean off.

“So-eun it’s fine. Clearly his friend is going through something, no one can get drunk at 2 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Yeah.” The guy states rubbing the back of his head. “We just lost a pretty big deal for our company and he is taking it pretty hard. But that is still no excuse.”

“You damn right.” I shoot So-eun a glare signaling for her to shut up.

“Please let me make it up to you; no let my buddy make it up to you. He will pay for your meal.” Both So-eun and I looked on either side of this stranger to checkout his friend who is still on the ground passed out with his pants halfway down. So-eun and I share a look giggling a bit at the picture in front of us.

“Its ok you guys are good I-”

“I’m sorry hold on for a sec.” So-eun grabs me and turns us around giving our back to the guy. “Are you seriously trying to give up a free meal?”

“Look this is the second time today that I had an outfit ruined. I'm over it let's just go pay the bill, grab chicken and beer and go back to my place.”

So-eun just sighs “B, I can't let you do this, it's a free meal.”

“What's a free meal?” Where has he been throughout this whole commotion. “Woah babe what happened to your clothes.”

“Where have you been? Could you not hear all the commotion?” So-eun accuses Min-ho, slapping his chest. He just stares looking confused.

"I had a phone call."

“Min-ho? What's up bro.” All of our eyes dart to the guy behind us. I almost forgot he was there.

“Woo? What's up, what are you doing here?” So-eun and my head shoot back toward Min-ho.

“Hold up, yall know each other?”

“Yeah Woo and I go way back I do a lot of the styling for Dynamic Duo.” Both of our faces form an O and slowly look back to this Woo guy. Looking him up and down we both take in his appearance. Black jeans that fit his legs very well, a slim black loose fitted shirt slightly hugging his biceps and two full sleeves of tattoos covering his arms and hands. Jesus, he must eat sleep and breathe the gym. Finally scanning up to his face I am shocked by his incredible jawline and cheekbones. The man was something out of a horror film. Mmm maybe a soft core horror film cause you couldn’t deny he was attractive.

“Ehem.” he clears his throat looking at us, although it sounded more like a rough growl. “So about that meal.”

“Dude are you hitting on my best friend! At a restaurant?” You can always count on Min-oh to completely read a situation wrong. He smiles giving this Woo guy two thumbs up and a wink.

“ You know what, do what you guys want. Have him pay for the meal, don't have him pay. I don't care. I’m gonna go and see if i can find a new shirt. I'll meet you guys at the car.” walking to our previous table I grab my bag and head out the door.

“Really Min-ho” So-eun smacks his shoulder.”

#scenarios #stories #friends #fanfic #monsterwoo #demonwoo #ambw bwam #newchapter

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⁂ Lookin’ Cool (Weiming Shen)

Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Slice of Life, Fluff ☁

Word Count: 2,528 ☁

Pairing: Reader, Weiming ☁

World: The Prince of Tennis – Match! Tennis Juniors ☁

Prompt: This from @write-it-motherfuckers

Author’s Note: This is my first time writing for Chinapuri and I am honestly nervous about how people will view this lol Honestly, I’m mainly concerned with the names because I’m not sure how the Chinese do their names, if it’s like Last Name First Name or reversed, or if people use first names or the full name. Anywho~ I hope you enjoyed this!

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You paced the locker room anxiously, waiting for tennis practice to conclude. Your anxiety had been steadily building all day, so much so that you couldn’t even bring yourself to each lunch. Chen was also feeling nervous, but at least he had tennis practice to keep his mind busy. You, on the other hand, tried watching practice, reading a book, and even working on your homework, but nothing has held your attention.

A groan passed your lips as you fell onto the bench. ‘Maybe I should have picked up an after school club. I wonder if the manga club is still accepting members…’

The door swung open, Jing and Xiuwen pausing in the doorway when they noticed you.

“Why are you in here?” Jin made a face. “You’re not on the team, you’re not supposed to be in here.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like you have trade secrets for me to steal.” Pausing for dramatic effect, you tapped your chin and narrowed your eyes at them. “Or do you? Maybe I should have a look around. After beating Yu Feng, lots of people are looking at Yu Qing. I bet that info’d sell for top yuan!”

Xiuwen gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t!”

With a smirk, you rested your chin between your thumb and index fingers, striking a pose. “Oh, I would!”

Jing opened his mouth to reply when a monotone voice came from behind him. “You’re in the way, can you move?”

Stepping away from the door so Lu Xia could enter the locker room, Jing sent you a glare. “Out, Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes again, grabbing your school bag before leaving the room. Chen was just rounding the corner, nearly knocking into you. “If you take too long, I’m going to leave without you.”

He scoffed. “Yeah right. You’d fall apart without me there.”

“In your dreams!” You huffed, continuing down the hallway. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but you knew he was right. Even with the thought of Chen being there to keep you from acting too stupid, you still felt like a bundle of frayed nerves. If he wasn’t going, you would probably just ditch the meeting and go home.

Lost in thought, you ran straight into Siyang and Zhi as they stepped into the building.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Siyang nodded, voice monotone. “Be more vigilant, Y/N.”

You sweatdropped at his attitude. “Right…”

Zhi chuckled, resting his hands on your shoulders. “You’re pretty tense. Is everything okay?”

‘He’s got that glint in his eye. Nothing good ever happens when he looks like that…’ You forced a smile, pushing his hands away. “Perfectly fine! Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

His lips twitched up. “Oh yes, Qiao Chen mentioned something about you having a bad dream.”

‘That son of a – I’m gonna kill him! Of all the people to tell…’ Your eye twitched and you struggled to keep up the fake smile. “A-Ah yeah. I really need to get go -”

“Wait,” Yan appeared out of nowhere, hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. “If you’re experiencing nightmares, try drinking this. It will help.”

You stared at the bottle of green, bubbling liquid and your stomach turned. “You know, I would, but uhh… it’s against my religion?”

Yan tilted his head to the left, not pulling the bottle from your face.

“Hm? Aren’t you an atheist, Y/N?” Zhi questioned, smirking when you sent him a glare.

“What’s going on -”

As soon as you saw Chen, you grabbed his arm and bolted from the building, not sparing the three a single glance. He protested as you dragged him all the way to the school gate, huffing when you finally came to a stop.

“Aren’t you just a bit too excited?” he teased.

“You’re one to talk. Still hearing music when you see Xingzi?”

His cheeks darkened and he punched your shoulder lightly. “Shaddup,”

You started down the street away from the school with Chen at your side. “Ha! What a loser,”

“You dreamed about Weiming last night but I’m the loser?”

It was your turn for your cheeks to darken. “Don’t say it like that, idiot, you make it sound dirty! Also,” you suddenly brought your arm back, punching him in the spleen.

“W-What the hell -?!”

“That was for telling Zhi about my dream!”

“I didn’t!”

“How did he know then? He may be a genius but he’s not psychic.”

“I only mentioned it to Lu Xia and Mu!” He scowled.

“You told Mu?!” You cried out, stopping to stare at him incredulously. “He can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Everyone he meets knows his business.”

“Mentioned,” he stressed. “I mentioned it, not told.”

“Same thing!”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“Ahem,”

Both your and Chen’s attention snapped to Xingzi who stood nearby with Weiming and Yiwu on either side of her. She was smiling in amusement, but the two boys didn’t seem happy to see the two of you. Though, in the short time you’ve known Yiwu, you’ve never even seen him smile, so that didn’t mean much.

You and Chen exchanged sheepish glances before you cleared your throat in an attempt to fight the embarrassed blush that was trying to rise up to your face.

“It’s supposed to rain,” Xingzi commented with a smile. “We should hurry to the park so we can play at least one game.” She then turned, continuing down the road with both boys following close behind.

“Che,” Chen clicked his tongue, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Why do they always have to be so close to her?”

You frowned at their backs, copying his stance. “I don’t know, but I hate it.”

“Me too,”

Xingzi glanced over her shoulder, noticing that neither of you had moved and she waved her arm in the air. “Guys, come on!”

Yiwu mumbled something to Weiming, which made his eyes snap to yours. You quickly dodged his gaze by speeding up and passing the three. A light breeze ruffled your clothes, offering a small break from the summer heat, and the sinking sun was slowly being covered by light grey clouds.

Only a couple people were at the street court when your group arrived and they were packing up their things to leave.

Xingzi pulled out her pink racket and grinned. “So, who’s going first?”

You and Chen exchanged a look. No matter what, you didn’t want to be paired with your crush and you knew that he was thinking the exact same thing. As if it had been rehearsed, the two of you suddenly pointed at one another and chorused, “Chen/Y/N can go first!”

She giggled. “Why not play some doubles? Yiwu and Weiming versus Y/N and Chen!”

Without hesitation, Chen agreed, his face lighting up like a puppy that had just gotten attention from its master. “Great idea!”

You glared at your best friend, resisting the urge to punch him again. Thunder grumbled overhead and you glanced up at the darkening sky. ‘Even mother nature thinks this is a bad idea…’ You headed to the far end of the court, dropping your school bag onto the bench. Although you knew how to play tennis, it wasn’t something you genuinely enjoyed doing often. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold a handle to the two boys who played tennis regularly and you were just going to make yourself look like an idiot again.

Chen bumped your shoulder as he stopped beside you, dropping his tennis bag next to your own. “Don’t worry, we got this!”

You scoffed. “I’ve never even played doubles before, but I bet our coordination is complete trash.”

“Me and Lu Xia figured it out!”

“Hardly! All you did was play singles together.”

“Maybe, but it worked.” He threw his arm around your shoulder. “This is our chance to impress our crushes! Besides,” he glanced up as another grumble of thunder passed overhead. “It’ll rain long before the game ends.”

You pulled your racket from the bag, running your fingers across the smooth surface, painted your favorite color. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steel your resolve. “Fake it ’til you make it, huh?”

“Right!” He grinned. “Let’s do this!”

Yiwu and Weiming were already on the court waiting. You took position at the back of the court and as soon as Chen was in position, Yiwu threw the ball into the air, smacking it toward you. You recognized it instantly – twist serve.

Chen just barely managed to dodge before it hit his face.

‘Twist serve, huh? They’re not holding back.’

As he prepared to serve again, you suddenly remembered the match that you had watched the night before with your uncle. The pro, Xi Yangwi, was a twist serve specialist while his opponent and childhood friend, Jang Yilong, had learned fancy tricks in order to counter it. One of the best counters, in your opinion, was the takeout. Yilong would move to intercept the ball with his face before pulling back at the last possible second, doing a spin before returning it backhanded. It always had the crowd going wild when he used it.

‘If I can pull off that move, I bet Weiming would be so impressed.’

Yiwu served again and you rushed forward, nearly knocking into Chen as he tried to hit the ball.

“Y/N -”

“I got it!” You threw yourself in the direct trajectory of the ball. You saw it heading for your face and you sent orders to the rest of your body, but it seemed as if the messenger was too pre-occupied to deliver them – you couldn’t possibly react in time. You heard your name being called, but with the blood pumping in your ears, you couldn’t tell who had said it.

The ball smacked into your face like a ton of bricks, the world spinning rapidly around you as you fell backward onto the court, pain shooting through your face. Chen’s head appeared above you, blocking your blurred view of the sky.

“Y/N! Are you okay?”

“I don’t get it…” you muttered to yourself, voice nasally from the damage to your nose.

He grabbed your shoulder and forced you into a sitting position. Yiwu and Weiming had approached the net, watching the two of you closely. Xingzi stepped onto the court and gasped. “You’re bleeding!”

You reached up to touch your face, feeling thick, warm blood on your fingertips. Upon doing so, a sharp pain shot through your face. “Motherfuking tap-dancing satan on a bagel, that hurts!”

“Then why the hell did you do it?” Chen scowled.

Xingzi pulled a towel from her bag before returning to your side. “Here,”

You took it with a grimace, carefully holding it under your nostrils to soak up the blood. “I thought it looked cool…” you mumbled, tilting your head toward the sky. The light gray clouds had turned dark, thunder roaring loudly overhead to act as a warning. A moment later, rain was blanketing the earth, the drops sending waves of pain through your face every time they landed on your nose.

Chen helped you to your feet, bringing you over to the awning that covered one of the benches. It did little to block the rain, especially with the wind blowing.

“We should take you to the hospital,” Xingzi frowned, brushing her wet hair away from her face. “Your nose might be broken.”

At the mention of a hospital, your nose instinctively wrinkled, causing you to wince in pain. It honestly hurt like a bitch, but you were positive that it wasn’t broken and you hated hospitals. You pulled the towel away from your nose and swiped your fingers under your nostrils. It was still bleeding, but it had already slowed down. “No, I’m okay.”

Chen exchanged a look with her before taking wrapping his arm around your own. “Come on, I’ll help you home.”

“You live in the opposite direction,” you muttered, pulling your arm away from his. “I’m fine, really.”

“Weiming lives in the same direction,” Xingzi commented, turning her gaze to him. “Can you make sure Y/N gets home safe?”

Your cheeks burned at the thought and you were thankful that your skin was already discolored from the injury. “Ah, no! It’s really okay, I don’t want to trouble him.”

“He’s right here, you know.” Weiming rolled his eyes, returning his racket to his bag before swinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go before the rain picks up.”

Chen stopped him, expression deadly serious. “You better take care of Y/N.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.” Weiming scoffed, sending him a hard look. The expression softened when he turned his attention to you, his slender fingers gently wrapping around your upper arm.

You said nothing as you walked at his side, the rain helping to keep you cool despite how hot your face was. The first few minutes passed by in silence and you were in the middle of having an internal debate over whether or not you should try to strike up a conversation when he spoke up.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Eh?” You blinked dumbly, surprised that he had actually broken the silence.

He glanced at you before turning his attention forward again. “Whatever stunt you were trying to pull, don’t do it again.”

You lowered your head, fist clenching around the towel. This made your nose throb but you were thankful for the distraction. “Yeah… I won’t.”

He continued as if he didn’t hear you. “Why would you try such a risky move? You know you’re not even that good at tennis. The fakeout is a pro-level counter.”

You winced at his harsh words and the bite of his tone. “I know I suck, you don’t have to rub it in…”

“That’s not -” Weiming paused, his fingers tightening so you’d stop walking. “Look at me, Y/N.”

You forced your eyes to meet his and nearly melted where you stood. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? Even more so with the way his hair clung to his face, water dripping down his skin.

“- that’s why.”

You blinked, realizing he had been speaking for several moments and you hadn’t heard a word of it. “Um… can you repeat that, please?”

He sighed deeply before taking you by the shoulders. “I didn’t mean it the way that came out. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Warmth flooded your body as your heart fluttered within your breast. His concern was touching and you felt happy knowing he actually cared about what happened to you. You offered him a gentle smile. “I promise I’ll be more careful. Thank you, Weiming.”

His eyes scanned your face before he nodded and released you. “Good,”

The rest of the walk was silence, accompanied by the pitter-patter of the rain, but that was okay. You now knew that he did care about you and, even though that was probably just on the friendship level, it was a start. For now, you were content just walking by his side.

Your nose might disagree, but you were happy that you had been hit.

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forkanna · 4 years

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[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

NOTE: I try not to get too serious in my notes, but I wanted to take this brief moment to say I hope everyone will give their time and efforts to a few petitions for racial justice in the USA. Donate if you have money, and attend peaceful protests if you have the time and access and are able. We all deserve peace and prosperity, not poverty and inequality. Thank you. Now on with our regularly scheduled smut.

CHAPTER FOUR

Breakfast at the Amagi Inn was a rare treat Chie had not enjoyed in a long time. They had stayed over at each other's houses when they were little quite often, but that had become a bit more rare the past few years. It just wasn't "adult" to have sleepovers. That seemed like a shame, because it was a wonderful way to ensure that you got more than a few passing hours with a friend, but social stigmas are more powerful than anyone wants to give them credit for.

Luckily, the group had gone into the TV to save Yukiko on a Saturday night, so they had all of Sunday to rest and recuperate. The two of them idly walked around the halls in their slippers, smiling and casting sheepishly delighted glances at each other. Conversations remained on light topics like the weather and upcoming exams, the inn, and Chie's dog, Muku. They knew they were in public so that was the best they could do.

They eventually returned to Yukiko's room for a nap. Mrs. Amagi was aware that she had been kidnapped, even if she withheld the truth of the details, so they were allowed to relax and recover. However…

"I can't sleep."

Chie rolled over to face her girlfriend. They had never bothered to get a second futon, so they were snug as two peas in a pod again. "Me, either. But I am tired and don't wanna get up and do anything yet."

"Yeah." Glancing over at her, Yukiko fiddled with her hands under the blanket; Chie could see the bump moving around. "Um… can we…"

"Can we what?" Chie asked.

"K-kiss."

"Oh." Her cheeks were already heating up, but she cleared her throat to give herself an excuse for it. "Y-you want to? Like, for real, not just because we're losing it and can't figure out how to deal with our emotions?"

"Yes, for real," she chuckled softly. "But it's alright, you don't have to if it's too strange."

"Wait! I didn't mean I… wh-what I'm saying is, I do. I want to."

Yukiko's small smile vanished amid her surprise. "Oh. Really? Wow… I'm… that still surprises me. But I'm happy."

"Yeah?" As if to suddenly prove she meant it, she leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. "Well, that one's just for starters."

"Oh, is it?" Another got her sighing and closing her eyes. "Chie…"

That opened the floodgates for a lot more. Though she never would have thought herself capable of such displays of romance, even with a boy much less another girl, Chie found she couldn't seem to stop now that they had pushed through all their reservations — including those thrust upon them by a homogenous, somewhat-conservative Japanese society. Fuck what anyone else thought; they needed to take care of themselves. Be true to their inner feelings.

Which, apparently… were a lot stronger than either of them realised. The next thing she knew, Yukiko was on top of her body, and Chie was clutching at her back as their tongues began to hesitantly search each other out, little half-heard hums accompanying the actions. This was crazy! Wasn't somebody going to stop them? Where was Yosuke with a lewd comment to shame them out of continuing? Where was Yu with a firehose?!

"O-oh," Yukiko groaned when they parted, leaning her forehead against the side of Chie's once she had turned aside to catch her own breath. "That was…"

"Amazing! I've never… God, I'm in shock!"

"That too! But I was going to say 'that was your tongue, wasn't it?'"

Somehow flushing even darker than she had been seconds before, Chie cleared her throat so she could say in a voice that was still hoarse, "I… um… sorry about that! Man, I just got so into this, I don't even know what I was-"

"I didn't say I disliked it," she whispered, kissing Chie's neck and making her shiver all over. "You did surprise me, but I liked it. A lot."

"Oh. Well, uh… that's great! Right?"

"Yeah."

"Can… I do it again?"

"Yeah. Please."

The next several minutes of kisses were a blur as they rolled over again, Chie pushing her down into the futon. She knew she was turned on; had been since the moment their lips met, and the heat only blazed stronger in the time since. What about Yukiko? They really did seem to be in sync so she had a feeling the answer would be "yes", but she still felt such overwhelming disbelief that they were doing any of this in the first place that making assumptions seemed like a one-way ticket to disaster.

"Chie, I…"

"Yes?" she gasped as she drew back from her neck, having left a red spot on her pale skin.

"I feel… like I want to… find out what it's like." When her friend's hazel eyes moved into position to look into hers, Yukiko's darker ones averted. "To f-feel what my shadow felt yours doing to her."

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. "Oh shit. I m-mean, you want me to… with my hand?"

"Is it disgusting? I thought I was a good girl, but I'm asking for something like-"

"No way! Hey, you are good — you're so good, okay?" Her hand drifted up to pet along the side of Yukiko's head, and she leaned into the touch as if starving for it. "I'm just… surprised! Like, I never thought we'd both… y'know?"

Her cheeks were still rosy, but at least she could smile now. "I know. Goodness, this is all so new, a-and I keep expecting you to react how I would have reacted to the same thing. Before… yesterday."

"Yeah. Me, too, even though I… th-the porn."

"You still have to show me some of it," she chuckled while petting down to Chie's ass. When its owner froze in place, she asked, "Is this too much?"

"NO! I m-mean, um, no, it's fine. Just new." She flexed the muscles under Yukiko's fingertips and earned a little gasp from her.

"It's so strong!"

Laughing, she whispered, "I work out."

"Well… y-yes, I know. And you train all the time." Another flex, and she wound up humming her obvious interest. "I think… I like that. Do it again." She did. "Ah!"

"Feels really good," Chie admitted, biting her lip as she shifted her hips under the touch. When the fingers moved down and then back up again, underneath the fabric this time, she shivered and closed her eyes. "Yuki-chan…"

For a few seconds, nothing was said. The words wouldn't have been good enough, anyway; they knew what they wanted to say but not how to say it. And the sentiment would have been redundant in a lot of areas. Gooseflesh sprang into being as she felt those delicate fingertips ghosting over the cheek, down to her thigh and back up again. Another few strokes, and they began to move around to her hip.

"I thought you wanted me to go first," Chie laughed breathily, both excited and terrified of Yukiko going further.

"I did. But then you acted so…" She shrugged her shoulder, unable to come up with an end to that thought. "Do you want me to stop?"

"N-nah. Crazy as it is… I really do want you to keep going. I-if you want."

Instead of responding with words, Yukiko moved her fingers further around, sliding through Chie's thatch of fur. Even just that prompted a gasp and a groan of need from her that she felt so beyond embarrassed at hearing that come from her own throat. She hadn't even been touched yet! This was just foreplay!

This was foreplay. All at once, the thought smacked her full force: she was about to lose her virginity. To a woman! Her best friend!

"O-okay," Yukiko warned her in a soft, anxious tone. Apparently, she was thinking along the same lines. "This is it, I'm… I'm going further if you're ready."

"Yes." Licking her lips, Chie widened her stance, and even though her pulse was thundering in her ears and her stomach was tied in knots, she smiled down at her friend and whispered, "I want it. Want you to be the one, I… can't imagine it being anybody else."

Nodding firmly, as if steeling her determination before riding into battle, Yukiko allowed her fingers to press a little further down…

And pleasure exploded within Chie. It was so blinding that for a few seconds, she couldn't fully connect it to the point of contact. Where was she, and what had she been doing up until now? As the moment slowly filtered back to her, she saw a concerned Yukiko gazing up at her, as if desperately hoping she wasn't making a huge mistake, wasn't hurting her best friend by trying something she had absolutely no experience with.

"Yuki-chan… mhhh…"

That seemed to reassure her somewhat. With a whispered "Chie", she started in a little more firmly, moving the fingers instead of just pressing them against damp flesh as she had been. Her first instinct was to pull away hard, but she fought that off and listened to the second one — which begged for more of this, to push her hips down into the waiting fingers as she gasped out in sheer ecstasy.

"Am I doing this right?" Yukiko asked a minute or two later, still teasing up and down.

"How should I know?! It feels pretty… oh GOD, nnhh! Yes!"

"Chie!" she gasped in mingling alarm and shock. "Th-that sounds so obscene!"

"What we're doing is obscene, so I th-think it's… it's fine!" Her lips pushed down against Yukiko's cheek as she rolled her hips into the contact over and over. "Oh shit… this was what I've been missing out on?"

The young innkeeper-in-training was flushed scarlet, and could barely whisper, "It's good? Really? You like it when I do this? Because… I like doing it for you."

"You do?!"

"Yes! If I can make you feel good, then there's nothing else I would rather be doing." Her fingers became even bolder, firmer, making sure to caress every last inch of Chie's aching need. "And the way you sound…"

A little worried, she asked, "God, is it weird? Do I sound stupid?"

"No. You sound really… hot."

"What?!" Taken aback, she covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, even as the rest of her body was concentrating on riding that beautifully punishing hand.

"Don't cover that up; I love hearing you." Chie lowered the hand, beginning to moan. Yukiko's smile was fragile but wide. "Wow… I can't believe I can help you feel like this…"

After that, Chie lost track of time again. Yukiko's hand only seemed to grow more and more sure of itself, to find new ways to pleasure her as she practiced. And she became aware of something else: the heat was beginning to build. Somehow, she had expected to simply enjoy this level until the activity stopped, but it was growing hotter and hotter with each passing second. And she knew eventually, if they didn't stop, according to everything she had heard…

"Yuki! I… nnhh, I'm gonna… oh my GOD!"

"You're gonna what?" Clearly afraid, her eyes jerked up to her friend's. "What's wrong?"

Laughing weakly, she slammed her hips down with more and more force to compensate for Yukiko's hand stilling as she told her, "Nothing! Mmhh… just d-don't stop! No matter what! Okay?!"

"O-okay!" she breathed, nodding fervently as if this was some kind of official battle command. And she seemed to take her actions just as seriously; the fingers pushed in almost too hard, but it only seemed to wring more pleasure from her already-tortured flesh.

And then Chie came. Which is to say, she knew that this blinding surge of pleasure that almost knocked her off her hands and knees had to be what she saw happen at the end of that video; it couldn't be anything else. Her entire frame shook hard from the sheer force of it, and she distantly felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. It was an overwhelming religious experience for which she was ill-prepared.

Once she was desperately sucking in breath after breath, head braced against Yukiko's shoulder, the fingers stilled and simply held against her aching warmth. "I… know you said to keep going, n-no matter what, but… it felt like… sh-should I do more?"

"Nhhh… I…" Her throat was so dry now. Was that normal? After a few more tries, she coughed, swallowed, and managed to rasp, "Just… stay… here…"

Yukiko nodded and held her position. The other hand came up and hesitantly started to caress her best friend's back, and when she only got a hum of contentment in response the petting became more firm and certain, soothing up to her hair and then back down. They remained that way until Chie recovered enough to say more.

"Whoa. That was incredible!"

Yukiko's bashful smile was something she could hear rather than see at the moment. "Y-yeah? It was? Then I'm glad I could help you."

"You… mmm, it still feels good…" She shifted her hips against the hand, then sighed. "Don't, um, don't start going again, but like, just hold still? I wanna try something."

"Okay…" And she did as Chie ground against the fingers. "You're so wet… i-is this normal? And I've never touched one of these really, except when I'm washing, but it's… kind of nice. Soft and slick, and… they move more than… I expected…"

Chie shivered when she felt her lower lips being pushed from side to side. "O-ohhhhh, yeah… that's- Yukiko, you really never did this before? You swear?"

"I swear. Not even on myself."

"Wow…" She let out a shaky laugh as she shifted her hips in the opposite direction the fingers moved, to add more sensation. "We could have been doing this for years… can you imagine? Three or four years ago, just going crazy on each other?"

That seemed to alarm her friend. "But we were only children! They don't do these things!"

"Maybe not… at least a year ago, then. That would have been awesome!" Then she drew back, peering down into Yukiko's eyes. "Okay, your turn!"

"Huh?! Oh, but… I thought you were doing more, that you were still enjoying-"

"I am, yeah. But I wanna make you feel this good now; we can worry about taking care of me again some other time." Expression beyond eager, she grinned down at her and waited for her answer.

"Well, I…" She gulped hard and looked away. "I might not feel as good as… you did to me, I'm not… I don't know. But if you're sure you want to try…"

Chie wasted no time in nodding, then kissing her friend delicately on the lips. It didn't last long but was sweet enough that they both sighed afterward. "Yes. I totally want to. Even if you feel like a slimy slug down there-"

"HEY!"

"-I would still want to touch. Because it's Yukiko, y'know?"

Still pursing her lips at the slug comparison, she rolled her eyes before smiling reluctantly. "Well… I suppose that is almost sweet. But I don't know what you want me to… am I supposed to roll over on top of you? Or just stay down here?"

"Stay there. I think that will be easier on you, like, if you don't have to worry about holding yourself up like I just did."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking about that when we got started — that must have been so difficult!" But then Chie was backing up, kneeling over Yukiko's thighs — and displaying a slight dark spot in the crotch of her own boy shorts. "Oh… oh, it's time, isn't it?"

"Yeah. If you want it to be. But if you don't-"

However, Yukiko was already shaking her head. "No, no, I do. I'm really scared, and nervous, and… I'm not sure if I'm ready. But I know I'm ready for it to be you."

Her best friend smiled softly as she leaned down to kiss her hip. "No wonder your shadow wanted to find her Prince Charming so bad. You're such a romantic. Like, how has nobody swept you off your feet before?"

"Maybe I was waiting for the right Prince. And now I have her." Then she whispered, "Was that romantic, too?"

"Definitely. And you're stalling."

"Maybe I…"

But the lips were moving to push into the center of the soft cotton panties a second later, cutting off further maybes. Red; they suited Yukiko perfectly. As did the vaguely sweet scent rolling outward from where Chie had kissed. She wanted so much more… and said scent seemed to at least suggest Yukiko wanted it, too. Even without her words.

"I was right. Red looks great on you."

The only response was a whimper, which got louder when Chie kissed again. She should have known; Yukiko was rather shy under most circumstances. Why should this one be any different — especially when it was much more anxiety-inducing? The junior hostess didn't even have the luxury of already having enjoyed an orgasm before opening herself up to letting someone else assist.

Every kiss made her writhe. Chie couldn't help kissing more in response, breathing in the intoxicating aroma. It didn't take her long to edge the pretty fabric aside and start kissing her directly — the little gasp of shock sending fresh need down between her own thighs. She had thought it might be disgusting, kissing another woman there… but it wasn't much different from normal kissing. Wetter, slicker… and the scent, of course. But not much different otherwise.

"Chie!" she finally panted as the hips began to roll up and against her mouth a little more. Seeking out the pleasure instead of merely letting it assail her. "Yes! Mmmhh… m-my prince…"

Oh. She was really going to call her that now? It definitely didn't do anything to reduce her own reviving urges. At least those made it easier to keep going, to push her tongue in harder with every pass up from the bottom of her perfectly-formed petals to the pink hood above them. Her hand drifted up to caress along them as she took a break to breathe. How they shifted so easily…

"You're beautiful."

"N-no, don't," she begged as she gasped for breath. "Don't look s-so much…"

"Why not? You're really hot."

"But it's dirty… I'm dirty, you shouldn't… shouldn't l-look!"

That embarrassment should have made her concerned for her friend. However… they both knew their feelings. Understood them very clearly after their shadows made delusions impossible to entertain. Now she knew Yukiko was just worried she would offend her with her body, not that she actually wanted her to look away; reassurance was in order, not surrender.

"I gotta look," she countered, kissing the petals again. "You're so pretty, so sweet… down here. So wet for me, huh?"

"Nhh! Don't!" Her thighs twitched as if to close, but stayed open in the end. "I didn't m-mean to be wet!"

Sliding her tongue over the folds, listening to the squeal of joy, Chie paused to lick her lips afterward before she responded. "I know. You can't help it; just like I can't help kissing you when I'm this close. It's okay that you're dripping for me to touch you."

This time, her best friend didn't respond right away. A quick glance upward showed a ruddy face full of lust, with just the tiniest hint of uncertainty. She knew why; she had become bolder. In the pit of her stomach, she was still terrified of making her upset, but being able to tell that she was turning Yukiko on made it possible for her to ignore that fear. To be the confident prince that made her princess a complete mess who needed her touch.

She had learned so much from her shadow. Even if she was an asshole.

"Yuki," she groaned before going back to work on her throbbing clit, tongue sliding around it over and over. Harder, faster — more with her fingers below. She didn't quite penetrate her, because they hadn't talked about that yet, but everything else seemed to be fair game. Her own hips were twitching in the air by now, as if hoping someone would slide in from behind and fulfil her desires a second time while she worked on her best friend.

Girlfriend?

"Chie! I… I think something is…"

"Hmmhh?"

"I think it's my turn! Y-you're going to make me… finish!"

"Is that what you want?" she asked as she finally pulled off, fingers doing all of the work now. "You want me to make you come?"

"Y-yes! Please?"

Chie had been about to do it. To just keep going, listen to this beautiful woman cry out in ecstasy. But hearing 'please' gave her pause. For a second, she couldn't figure out why… but then realised what she wanted. Purely because of what Other-Chie had done, she had a feeling she knew how to make this even better. For both of them.

"Please what?"

"Huh?"

"Say it. I want to hear you say what it is you want."

Eyes wide as dinner plates, Yukiko covered her face with her hands for a moment. Ashamed, trying to shield that feeling from view. "I… I want you to do it!"

"Do what?"

"Chie! Wh-what are you asking me? I want… you to finish me?" That much earned her a pussy-kiss, at least. "A-ah! Will you finish me?"

"Mmm, beg your prince for it," she purred, still kissing at least. But not quite going back to work.

"Beg?! Do you… a-am I not…" Swallowing, she looked away. "Do you… like hearing me beg?"

"It's what I want. To hear how bad you need me." Then she cleared her throat and hastily corrected, "It. How bad you need it."

Too late. Her slip-up made Yukiko smile briefly, eyes watery and chest heaving as her hips began to squirm, desperate to have something between them again. But when she spoke, she was all moans and desperation, just as her sporty girlfriend wanted. "Chie! My Prince, I need you to- nnhhh! -to touch me! I- I'm begging to feel your mouth on me, for you to make me… climax! Will you please?"

The "holy shit" slipped out before she could catch herself. She just hadn't been expecting Yukiko to be so good at it on the first try! Then she kissed her a little harder on the clit, hoping to sweep that under the rug.

It worked like a charm. Instead of teasing her, Yukiko fell deep into the throes of moaning and back arches, hands and feet clenching at the tatami in an attempt to anchor herself. She came with so much force she almost seemed to float above the floor, head thrown all the way back as she screamed Chie's name.

What Chie wasn't prepared for was the slight push of warm fluid against her mouth. She let out an "MM!" but managed to keep from jerking away or other overreactions. It was too thick, and almost made her sick, but she also knew this was the precious proof that her best friend had orgasmed; she couldn't let it go to waste in good conscience. Therefore, she didn't.

"Ohhhh," Yukiko was groaning while Chie still swallowed. "Oh, wow… you… you felt so amazing!"

"Mmmmhh…"

"Can you come up here? I… oh, now I feel empty… is that strange?"

Her prince obeyed. After only a few seconds to breathe, she climbed up along the futon until they were flopped down on their sides, facing each other and feeling their legs overlapping below. It was the closest to another human being Chie had ever felt in her life.

"Wow."

"Y-yeah. Yuki-chan… I, uh…"

Her contented smile didn't vanish, but there was a slight crease between her brow. "What is it?"

"Sorry. About, um… I kinda talked to you funny. At the end there. It seemed like you were into it, but like, I also felt weird telling you to tell me something, or… whatever…"

"Oh, that." She bit her lip for a moment, smiling shyly. "It was really hot."

"HUH?!"

"Shhh! D-don't make me say it again!"

Leaning up on her elbow slightly, she stared down at the embarrassed innkeeper. "You liked that? Really?! But I was acting like you were my… I dunno! Shadow-Yuki instead of Real-Yuki!"

"I can't explain it," she breathed, not meeting Chie's eyes. "It felt… right. The way you did it, anyway. And the way you said it was so you could know how much I need you… well, you already said your shadow was trying to convince you that I needed you to be confident, and you needed me to feel like you had purpose."

"R-right," Chie managed nervously. "Which was all bullshit." But her friend shook her head. "It wasn't?"

"We have to accept our inner selves, remember? I… might not be as bad as Other-Me, but I do crave that attention from you. That protection, a-and… I think…" A quick swallow, and her voice grew quieter, "When you confront the bullies and boys who won't take 'no' for an answer, say things like 'I'm gonna leave footprints all over your face', it gives me goosebumps!"

That made her chuckle, relaxing very slightly. "Why? You want it to be your face instead?"

"Um… no?"

But that didn't sound certain at all. She had only been joking around! Chie blinked a couple of times before asking, "Do you… want me to beat you up?"

"No, no, don't be silly. But… you standing over me… on me, telling me that I'm all yours… sort of like Other-Chie did…"

"Oh. Wow, I- th-that doesn't sound like it's okay…" On the other hand, the look Yukiko was giving her made her want to try. To satisfy both their curiosity. And it looked like her raven-haired companion wasn't quite through.

"Please, Chie-sama?" she begged, brows lifting as she pleaded. "Step on me?"

To Be Continued…

#We'll Face Ourselves #persona 4 #persona fanfiction #forkanna writes #p4 fanfic #jess the writer #nsfw-text

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Φάρμακον [Whumptober 2019 - Day 21: Laced Drink]

Summary: φάρμακον (phármakon): substantive neutral, Ancient Greek. Remedy, poison. A queen must have means to protect her own power and person. For Selena, whose rings shine like stars in the starry sky, it's what her jewels hide behind their flare.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V (Royalty/Ancient Mediterranean Sea AU) Relationships: Very implied Serena & Ruri friendship, also very implied Peregrine

Wordcount: 1.052 words

Content Warnings: Deals with poisons (y’know, considering the prompt, it’s predictable).

Notes: I have a question: are you familiar with a manga called Aoi Horus no Hitomi? I bought it under its French name and edition, "Reine d'Egypte" (a lame translation, compared to the original Japanese title, if you ask me) kind of by chance and it's since then become one of my favorite manga series of all times with Cardcaptor Sakura, Pokémon Special and FMA. I buy every new volume as soon as they come out. It's about the first female pharaoh, Hatchepsut, and how her rise to power and reign were... tumultuous, to say the least. Also it looks super fucking good.

If I bring up Aoi Horus no Hitomi, it's because this is the inspiration for this AU oneshot. I suddenly wanted to write about an Ancient Times-inspired queen and how she expressed her authority. This may be more Greek than Egyptian-like necause I'm more comfortable with Greco-Roman codes (blame it on my major), and used Serena's already Greek name (y'know, the moon, the goddess Σελήνη, etc.). Now, I have no excuse for having Ruri and Shun roam around with their very not Greco-Roman names, but fuck it, my AU my rules So in short here Selena is a moon-themed queen officially endorsed by the moon goddess Hecate, Ruri is her childhood friend-slash-servant-slash-maid and Shun is her dedicated scribe. You'll easily be able to tell where the Aoi Horus no Hitomi inspiration kicks in there if you've read the manga lol. Implied Peregrine here I come. (It can be read as just deep friendship, tho, I think).

And the title of the story, which is the first thing I actually came up with when filling this prompt, is absolutely a play on the term because φάρμακον can translate to either "remedy" or "poison" depending on the context.

---------

A queen cannot let her guard down, can she? In a world where enemies keep rising against her, both from the inside and the outside, she must keep a careful and watchful eye on everything possible. Alas, she does not have the eyes of the gods, cannot see through all of the lies and the darkness and cannot ride on the boat of the sun; she needs to take care of this with her limited human abilities. It is but part of being a mortal in a cosmos ruled by the deities.

Like any queen, she wears bright and luxurious jewellery for most of her days and nights, earrings complementing her hair, crescent-shaped headband and crown to show her social status to all, golden necklaces and shining gems decorating her breast, bracelets colouring her wrists in bright and regal colours, rings armouring her fingers. These are more than simple, superficial decorations: they are weapons in their own right. She can scratch an assassin with the claw-shaped accessory on her right index finger and has the most efficient powders in the other rings she wore, contained under the pretty gemstones making her hands shine like the early rainbow sky.

People of the court want her dead or alive, to exert their authority on her and, in then, get the country’s power in their filthy, egotistical hands. Alas, she was raised by a cunning pedagogue and taught by the winner of the Olympic Games of his youth: she knows her environment and how her high-ranked officers act. She prefers young, low-class citizens to serve her, as they’re more diligent and more deserving of her attention, having struggled their way to the top instead of inheriting from their parents’ status to her ancestors. The son isn’t always as good or bad as the father, after all.

A noble-blooded accountant flatters her too much with empty-sounded words and verses she’s already heard or read somewhere else, gratifies her with gifts that smell like dishonesty and future treason. She sees the sharp, bright blade tied around his waist, clean and yet poor, handle made out of wood. His clothing is unnaturally crimson, colour of power in another city they have contacts with, he told her when she asked about it. Still, despite the flags this rises, she invites him to sit down at her table and invites a maid to serve them both a cup of strong-flavoured tea, waiting for him to turn an eye away during their conversations once the fuming cups are set before the both of them.

He glances at his blade, irises filling with a dark shine; she pours the powder hidden behind a sapphire into his drink.

Their conversation resumes. His words still sound empty, flatters that mean nothing, and she only listens with half of her mind. Instead, she focuses on the cup, drinking her tea with slow gulps, attention focused on the noble. He eventually puts the treacherous drink to his lips and, in a slow move of his wrist, takes a sip. His last, she knows it, as his hands go limp and he passes out. In a complacent nod of her head, she gets her maid’s attention and claps in her hands.

“Ruri, please,” she asks, the girl rushing to her side, “can you get this man to his new cell?”

“Absolutely, your Majesty.”

“I told you already, you can call me Selena when we’re alone like this. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a scribe to check on.”

The maid bows and runs out of the room, diligent as always, as the queen eyes the tea still drippling from the table. He should have known a woman endorsed by the moon would have Hecate by her side to protect her, her starry sleeves shrouded in the dark filled with tricks.

In the palace’s office, a man is slouched over a desk, a hand writing down accounts and books for the royal archives. She doesn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know this is what he is doing, because she assigned this task to him last week, and he’s been nothing but serious about it since then. A bit too serious, it’d seem.

“In how long have you not slept, Shun?” She asks as she enters the room, a sly smirk on her face, her guard slightly down despite the blade she has tied around her waist and hidden away by the precious clothing and the jewels.

The scribe rises from his slouched position, obvious dark rings under his eyes, hand almost hitting the cup of water he has next to him. She slowly walks up to him, bracelets tingling, stones shining under the gentle, dim light of the candle lighting his workspace.

“Ah, your Majesty,” he replies. “I’m almost done with this manuscript. It should only take a couple of hours left.”

“I appreciate your dedication, but your queen is ordering you to bed, so could you please do so right this moment? I am afraid you have, in fact, not slept for a couple of days.”

“I have frankly not seen the sun enough to judge, your Majesty.”

“This only gives me more reasons to order you to bed, Shun.”

“I swear on my life that I’ll do so once I’m done with this manuscript.”

Selena opens her emerald ring’s cache over his cup of water while he looks over his handwriting again. For someone who seemed as rough as he was when she first hired him, his is smooth and clear. People are full of hidden talents and traits, it gladly seems.

Shortly after she’s laced his drink, he grabs his cup it in his hand and almost drinks it, only to wince when it gets close to his nose. He glances back at her, a familiar smile on his face.

“Ah, I guess that Her Majesty very much wants me to go take a rest. I’ll execute myself without making her wait any longer.”

“I prefer that.”

She gives him her hand, which he takes, his head spinning for a moment. She didn’t say that for her own good, after all, she expected that to happen. Still, she got proven right, and that’s enough for her, for now, when it’s about her personal scribe.

She blows out the candle before leaving.

#arc-v #serena (arc v)#ruri kurosaki #shun kurosaki #peregrineshipping #whumptober2019 #no.21 #laced drink #sleep deprivation #poisoning #kinda #more like putting sedatives in someone's drink #au: ancient greece #au: ancient times #otp: selene ourania

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lafeae · 5 years

Text

Prompt: Broken Nose

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters: Kaiba Seto, Jounouchi Katsuya/Joey Wheeler

For: @badthingshappenbingo

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

When Jounouchi got home after the sunset, the laundry wasn’t done. A single light made it cast a long shadow in the living room, still laying in the middle of the floor where he left it.

Sighing, he began to pick up the pieces of the bowl still scattered in the doorway, and wondered briefly if he should try and patch the hole in the wall. Why bother. The place was old and moth eaten anyways.

The apartment was still and quiet, save for the hum of the neighbour’s window air conditioner. He could almost imagine it being cool as he peeled his work uniform from his skin and laid down on the futon.

“Shoulda bought the fan...”he murmured, but at least his stomach was full. The food won him over. Besides, it was hard to concentrate on anything: the heat, his stomach, sleep, or the blank period of time he spent lying in bed thumbing through textbooks and cramming for exams he was fairly confident he wasn’t going to pass. That was just the nature of his operation; he was better suited for a factory job, or being a professional Magic and Wizards player.

Not even that daydream could escape the fact that Kaiba was on the brain. Specifically, how to talk to Kaiba, other than their annoying passing remarks. They sat next to each other—they didn’t have to pass notes.

Where the hell did he start?

‘Oi, Kaiba, your dad as messed up as mine?’ No, too forward.

‘So, guess workin’ guys got to stick together!’ Yeah right.

Maybe something a little less focused. Just a ‘hey’ and a ‘what’s up’.

All too informal for moneybags, but all they had to bond over was the shirt and their shared forbidden zone. Not really typical, or light, topics of conversation.

He dozed off mid-muse, with Kaiba heavy on the brain.

—

For once, Jounouchi slipped into class just on time, nodding and waving to Honda and Yuugi as he sat down.

He laid out his book and pen knowing full well his face would be in its spine before long. Before he had the chance, Kaiba remarked:

“You do know what time class starts.”

“Miracles happen.”

“Hn.”

There was brief moment that Jounouchi thought that he and the prick—was he really a prick anymore?—could have a dialogue. It was easy if Kaiba started it, too, because Jounouchi could never tell when Kaiba was willing to talk, even if he was being hateful or quippy. The man had the emotional range of a hard boiled egg, and the boredom in his eyes showed. For being a good student, Jounouchi highly suspected that absolutely nothing was being learned, given how Kaiba rarely turned the pages or wrote things down. The brief moment was lost as soon as it started.

“So uh, what’s the detergent you used on the shirt?”

Kaiba side-eyed him and sneered. Yeah, that was a glorious way to start a conversation.

Getting Kaiba to talk probably wasn’t going to happen.

That didn’t stop Jounouchi. He was nothing if not persistent and hard-headed. He figured as long as Kaiba didn’t deny him outright, or make threats, all conversations were fair game. The executive had invited him back to estate, even if it was just to deliver laundry which he swore he would do. He would have to.

His efforts were usually between classes, waiting for the next teacher to arrive, and while they were small, he found that asking less specific questions garnered more responses. Nothing too cerebral.

“So why ya bring your laptop everyday?”

“Work.”

“Well, yeah. But whatcha gettin’ done at lunch that can’t wait like, three hours?”

“International companies don’t sleep,” Kaiba explained. Jounouchi’s mouth formed an ‘o’, and he nodded in semi-understanding, though he was almost more grateful that Kaiba replied at all. Somewhere in the back of his head he thought it was because, maybe, they were talking about Kaiba. A selfish topic for a selfish teenager. But for this experiment, he knew he couldn’t think that way. The clean shirt he had tucked into his trousers said Kaiba was capable of altruism somewhere, under the right circumstances.

“Do you sleep?” Jounouchi asked.

“Enough.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jounouchi replied, laughing nervously. When Kaiba looked his way, he rubbed the back of his neck and ruffled his hair. “Sometimes I get off at like, I dunno, 9 or 10. Which isn’t bad. Ride home’s like a half-hour, but then Wakuba-sensai always gives us long lit essays an’ I jus’,” he let his lips loosely flap, imitating snoring while still chuckling to himself. His knees were knocking together between the desk, only stopped by one foot stepping on top of the other. “Ya know?”

“No.”

Kaiba was staring again. Not just Kaiba, but the range of other students a that encircled them. The classroom had gone deathly quiet, and Jounouchi flattened against his desk.

“The hell ya all starin’ at!” Jounouchi shouted.

They turned away. Kaiba was back to leaning on his fist and looking bored to his notebook, but Jounouchi was sure he caught a quick glance and small smile.

—

It was wash, rinse, repeat for five days. All of Jounouchi’s attempts between class were small. Simple conversation on sometimes ridiculous topics, because there was something fascinating about Kaiba’s face screwing in confusion.

Kaiba had a face full of childish wonder. When he wasn’t brooding or bored or focused, he retained an innocent look; wide eyes, long cheeks in his quickly hidden slackjaw, and a cute (Jounouchi couldn’t find a better word) nose that would turn red as he tried to decipher what gibberish Jounouchi had spouted.

For the life of him, Jounouchi couldn’t decide what he was doing that was any different from Yuugi’s attempts at befriending Kaiba. Maybe because he wasn’t so much befriending Kaiba as much as he was being curious. It wasn’t like Kaiba was always open. Most questions were shot down with acerbic comments or flat-out ignored; it just took the right ones, the off-guard ones, that by no means said Jounouchi was really interested in friendship, because he wasn’t. He was more or less interested in cracking the Kaiba Seto code. Friendship, whatever that meant to Kaiba, would have been accidental by-product and probably unspoken or denied.

Which meant it was easier not to get his friends involved.

Yuugi would have been gung-ho to allow Kaiba into their group at lunch, which Jounouchi had considered plenty of times as he stumbled to his seat. But it wasn’t really Yuugi. It was Anzu and her little comments of being “creeped out” by Kaiba’s stares at Jounouchi, or Honda’s egging to just go up to Kaiba and do something about the intimidating stares, or Ryou’s comments muttered into his thighs.

Still, he considered it every day.

“Yo, moneybags,” he called as he walked up, carefully moving around other students. Kaiba’s head raised an inch. Jounouchi swallowed hard and his guts clenched. Instead of words, he nodded towards their table.

Before he could get a response, someone barrelled full force into him, knocking his tray up into his chest and spilling food down the front of his shirt. He froze, with the entire lunchroom staring at him as he shivered.

“Oh Jou-kun, jeez, I’m sorry...I...”

Jounouchi’s eyes squeezed closed. “Nah, man, it’s a’right.”

It was more about what the food cost, Jounouchi thought for a second. It wasn’t often he actually bought his lunch. Today, he had felt like he earned it after having the pleasure of cleaning up the Old Man’s mess and had cut his palm open on a liquor bottle fragment. But no, it wasn’t really that. It was that Kaiba had seen it and promptly left.

—

The shirt was ruined. Not that most of his clothes weren’t for not having been washed for close to two weeks.

When he dressed out for gym he was thankful it wasn’t Kaiba’s shirt. He’d changed out of that after the third day, when the bath soap smell went away. It was the shirt that Kaiba had washed for him. Now, it unfortunately smelt like some teriyaki mess crossed with the lilac-lavender.

Gym was probably the only time he and Kaiba didn’t talk. They were too busy jabbing at each other over tennis, even when they weren’t playing one another.

The coach was merciful and had them rotate partners, though he and Kaiba always seemed to face each other at least once, which meant that he was sweat-soaked and frustrated from chasing the ball.

“Go on, mutt, it’s natural instinct!”

“Piss off, ya ain’t funny,” he chuckled.

But Kaiba laughed full-belly. Not quite as maniacal as in the past, but Jounouchi was sure he could have lobbed the ball into Kaiba’s mouth if he tried hard enough.

There definitely wasn’t much friendship going on between them. It was more like a symbiosis of misery over some weird, backwards empathy or sympathy, he still hadn’t decided which yet. Jounouchi was a chew toy that bit back, and it was kind of fun in the weirdest way possible. Weird for the weirdo, who would have thought?

Jounouchi liked hearing Kaiba laugh, though. It was passionate and raw. A small side of his strange dual personality. A part that was hidden like the innocent confusion.

Maybe Jounouchi was being soft. When Kaiba arched his back and legs to serve, he did look at Kaiba’s abdomen. Milky white, taut, swirling around a small belly-button with just a small touch of hair where his short would slip down at the arc of the serve. It almost made his taunting worth it every time Jounouchi missed, and the ball hit the back wall.

But he wasn’t as interested on Friday. Drove down by the oppressive heat, the lack of sleep, and the pain in his palm every time his racket made contact with the ball. He was tired and ready to leave.

Spending a few useless hours at Yuugi’s going over flash cards and mock exams while they nibbled on snacks sounded appealing. Very appealing. More appealing than getting a few seconds to stare at Kaiba’s washboard abs and sweat-flushed cheeks, but mainly because they would eventually ended up playing a video-game. Yeah, that sounded nice.

Jounouchi snorted and hit the ball. It had become a little easier to lob the ball back, even if Kaiba served it ninety miles an hour on a backspin. He’d learned enough pattern to slide into the hit.

“I didn’t think old dogs learned new tricks,” Kaiba quipped.

“Surprise, surprise.”

“Might actually be a challenge.” The ball barrelled back at him. “Not.”

“I’ve had some practice.”

“Oh? On who?” Kaiba asked.

A heavy grunt as Jounouchi hit it barely over the net. “Got a face in mind.”

Kaiba spiked the ball back. “Heh. I have a few guesses.”

There it was, that subtle empathy, that little look of curiosity coupled with a smirk that came off as condescending to others. Slowly, Jounouchi was beginning to deconstruct it.

Weakly, the ball hit the net before flopping back towards Jounouchi’s feet. He served it, loosely gripping his racket and sending the ball into the net. He wasn’t even keeping score. 45-0 probably. Or maybe they were on the next match. Kaiba told him but he wasn’t listening.

“Please, mutt, you’re wasting my time.”

“Now or always?”

Kaiba didn’t respond. Which was normal, because moneybag didn’t reply to a lot of things, but Jounouchi had figured out that his silences were their own communication. Words without words, and it hurt. ‘Yes’ would have hit him with so much less frustration.

The ball fired at him like a bullet, and Jounouchi double-handed the racket to hit it back.

This was an actual match. Back and forth, running until his lungs felt like they were bleeding and he was sure his palm actually was. Because fuck it, Kaiba was still a prick, a weirdo, an asshole who was pretty damn happy making sure people who just how much he didn’t like or need them for anything. They were obstacles, that was it.

Well, Jounouchi would be a damned obstacle.

He kept up with Kaiba until his arms and elbows ached. Maybe Kaiba would actually lighten the hell up if he was able to keep pace. That’s all he wanted. Whatever that casual, calm look he got when things were his way or in his favour, waving his magnanimousness around when it suited him.

The ball bounced out of bounds, and Jounouchi hung his head. He squeezed the semi-wet racket, not bothering to look if it was sweat or blood.

“What, you give up?”

“Zip it!”

Kaiba’s lip curled. He followed Jounouchi’s trek to the ball like the camera that had checked Jounouchi at the gate.

“When did it happen?” Kaiba asked, nodding towards the bloody racket handle.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Jounouchi’s heart throbbed in frustration, and he bounced the ball several times while refusing to look at Kaiba drilling a hole in the side of his head. Now he wanted to ask? Whatever.

When he went to serve, he caught a strange, resigned look hooded in Kaiba’s eyes, but it was too late. All of his embarrassment, his annoyance, his frustration went into the contact of racket to ball.

It wasn’t Kaiba, he thought as the ball ripped through through air.

Kaiba was something to take his anger out on. Just like the kids he used to pummel. They were distractions, easy targets, prey. He’d loosened up with Yuugi, who sort of got it, who supported him but didn’t ask questions and let him stay over when things got a little too overwhelming.

If he thought for half a second, he knew Kaiba was just Kaiba. Doomed to be a prick; he was forged by his unmentioned, screwed up raise, same as Jounouchi. Two personalities walking parallel on the same path. And it made him so easy to target. To challenge. To be a mirror.

Right up until the tennis ball smashed him in the face.

Jounouchi didn’t know if Kaiba reacted or not. He only saw the racket slipping out of his hand and clattering on the ground, echoing across the gymnasium as the last of the tennis balls bounded to a stop. Not even a murmur, though every last eye was on them.

Kaiba gripped his face, and blood spackled the floor in fat, red drops that slipped between his fingers. He squatted down on curled his face close to his knees.

Shit.

Sprinting to Kaiba, Jounouchi knelt beside him and slung an arm over his shoulders. Gently, he urged Kaiba to pull his hands away to look at the damage. When he wouldn’t, Jounouchi tore of his gym shirt and offered it for cover, pressing it into Kaiba’s hands.

Kaiba gasped at the touch, and shoved Jounouchi to the floor while greedily pressing it to his cheeks. His eyes flicked to Jounouchi, pained and innocently confused, while he sucked in muffled, panted breaths and attempted to stand up.

“Kaib’ you—“

“Save it.”

Jounouchi stared at Kaiba’s knobby knees in a daze, a single blood drop trailing down his shin. The coach jogged over and began to guide Kaiba away.

“I’m sorry!” Jounouchi shouted. The room went still again. Even Kaiba stopped, half-turning to look back. “I’m sorry. Really, it was an accident, I didn’t mean t’ do it. It jus’...”

The shirt dropped long for Jounouchi to see the medley of colours blossoming across the now strange new angle of Kaiba’s nose, mostly covered in globs of blood and snot. There was never a hint of defeat in his face, but something indecipherable, something that stung Jounouchi’s heart as he jaw ticked and continued to walk away.

“Fuck...”

Jounouchi could forget figuring Kaiba out, or whatever the hell he was doing. None of this made any sense to begin with. It was just confusing, embarrassing, humiliating. What was he thinking?

Kaiba would kill him. No, not kill. That was too kind. Sue probably, though Kaiba’s pocket lint was probably worth more. Make an example out of. Shun, somehow worse than before. Which meant no more casual glances or creepy stares or magnanimous gestures.

Somehow, he’d managed to hurt the only person who he was honest and willing to share with, who he thought he might have been able to have a heart-to-heart with. Or more, whatever more was.

Love, probably.

Not that he knew a thing about it. Not that it mattered anymore. Better to fuck it up before it got too far and either of them fooled themselves in thinking there was actually something going on.

That didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

#ygo #yugioh #seto kaiba #fanfic #joey wheeler #jounouchi katsuya #hurt/comfort #whump #challenge #broken nose #tw: blood #badthingshappenbingo

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londontoseoularchive · 7 years

Text

movie shoot. extra | m

➵ characters: christian yu x reader (feat. song minho)

➵ genre: smut

➵ wc: 2.4k

➵ summary: short follow up to the previous movie shoot. christian wants to play a very dangerous but rewarding game. includes phone sex and the reader receiving oral.

➵ masterlist

➵ disclaimer

“You look so entertained, I can just see it on your face,” Christian commented as he walked into the bedroom in just boxers, ruffling a towel over his freshly washed hair.

“Yes, these messages are so much fun,” you responded unenthusiastically but in a sarcastic tone over the lollipop in your mouth that was coming to an end. You were scrolling through the messages of the week, passing through several names. A name you passed was Minho’s, having saved his number after receiving a phone call from him this week. You had warned the others not to give Minho your number, but Jiho didn’t get the message.

Through the days, you made conversational chat with him, nothing more than you just being a polite person. He would start the conversation but you’d always finish them.

You pulled your head away from your phone in time to see Christian pull a shirt over his head, turning to make his way towards you. You took the white plastic stick from your mouth to dispose it in the small bin beside your bed. The bed dipped at its feet, Christian crawling his way up.

“We could do something that’s fun for the both of us,” he kissed your bare knee and the top of your thighs. “More fun than… whatever you’re doing.”

You giggled. “I bet.”

You let your phone drop somewhere beside you, pulling Christian closer to by his face. His lips found yours instantly, kissing him sweetly at first. Your lips parted, swiping your tongue over him just to taste. Getting a taste of that strawberry lollipop, you sucked on caused Christian to growl, deepening the kiss immediately.

He wasted no time in pulling the oversized hoodie you wore over your head, leaving in nothing but your panties.

“Oh, not wearing anything underneath, are we?” he teased you. “It’s like you were already waiting for me.”

“I already know how you are, I need to be prepared, don’t I?” you nibbled on his lower lip, grinning at him.

“Let me make it two of us.” Christian removed himself from you for a second to remove his black t-shirt, leaving his boxers on. He returned to you to start placing kisses down your chest and the valley between your breasts. Using his pinkies, they were hooked under your thong, sliding them down your thighs and calves quickly. His kisses trailed to your pelvic bones as you weaved your fingers through his soft hair, liking how he pretty he looked between your legs.

However, you were taken out of the moment by the ring of your phone, turning your head to it. Curious to see who it was, you picked up the device, and your face dropped. Minho.

Christian took a peak up at you, seeing you look at the vibrating phone, to then muffle a chuckle. "Answer it." Your eyes instantly darted at Christian. "W-what?" "Answer it," he pulled you in closer by your thighs, hiding the devilish smile overtaking his face into your drenched core. "It'll be fun." The phone had to have rung for at least ten seconds by now, and if you had left it any later, it was sure to stop. But Christian had you intrigued into what exactly his game plan and intentions were. Somewhat fumbling for your phone, you were able to tap the green circle icon to answer the incoming call. "H-hello?" "Y/N! Hey," Minho's tone was vibrant, making you imagine the current smile on his face. "What's up? You're not busy, are you? You took a while to answer the phone..." "No, no, I'm not busy," you began to lie. Christian was currently having some mercy on you, opting for slow and soft strokes of his tongue over your clit; you were getting more around, surely, but the sensation wasn't anything you did not have under your control. "I just... got home from the gym." Minho hummed. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? You already have such a great body." You blushed. "Oh, thank yoooou–" Christian dipped his tongue lower to probe at your entrance to taste you further, the unexpected movement making your voice hike. You raised your rested head to look down at him, and Christian looked as if he wasn't paying attention to your conversation, focusing more on his tongue and his pleasure. "Hmm? Y/N, are you alright?" Minho asked. "Huh? Oh! Yes! I... just thought I saw something on the hallway. I just got scared," you laughed nervously. "I'm getting to my door." Now you had to create some sort of scenario that would fit your current position, not knowing exactly how the hell you were supposed to do that. You went to the gym and now you're home, and you absolutely do not have a man currently between your legs eating you out like a delicious mid-afternoon treat. "Did you do anything else today?" Does he really just want to have a casual chat right now? Of all times to do so? "Um, not much else different from the norm. Went to the studio, did some paperwork..." You looked down at Christian once more and noted that a section of his hair had fallen onto his forehead, taking your free hand's index and middle finger to sweep it away. You did so just in time for Christian to flatted his tongue on your clit before enveloping his lips around it entirely, commencing a delicate sucking motion. A groan almost escaped but you made so that it was only inward, sighing in the end, not forgetting you had Minho on the other end of the line. "Now I'm just… probably gonna—“

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Minho commented sounding disappointed.

“Oh, right. I’ve just been so busy. I haven’t had time to do anything, really.”

“You sound like you need a break, then. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night?” you asked, and Christian stopped abruptly. He pulled away from you slightly, making you widen your eyes. “Where are you going?” you mouthed. Christian placed his index finger to his lips, signalling you to keep talking on the phone. “Um, tomorrow night, I don’t think I’m doing anything. I actually—“

Christian’s pushed your legs as far back as he could by the back of your knees, spreading them as far as he could. You were exposed as you could have possibly been, held perfectly still. Christian returned his mouth to your pussy, this time with a stiff tongue sliding it into your entrance, making your core tighten. This time, you couldn’t hold a moan back.

Minho was sat leisurely on the sofa in his studio, being the only one in it. Having his legs parted, he rested his free hand on his thigh, stroking his thumb across the material of his joggers. His head rested on the back of his seat, having his eyes closed as he spoke to you. Hearing your voice brought back the only memory that he had of you; in his lap, you beneath him, his mouth on you… He smiled mischievously.

“I—I might be free,” you were barely able to complete the sentence. “I haven’t been out for so long.” Only because once you got home, Christian was there ready to keep you busy. Not that you were complaining.

“Then come out with me tomorrow night. Let me help you have fun again,” Minho glided his fingers further up his thigh, still not palming his groin over his joggers. “Just like the last time… I told you we could have even more fun.”

You were only able to register some of Minho’s words and not others, the harder Christian fucked you with his tongue, the more your body concentrated on the man in front of you.

“Fun, huh?” you moaned. “There’s a few ways I have fun.” The unoccupied hand came over your clit, rubbing it gently at first, but enough to get you breathing deeper.

Christian looked up to see you looking at yourself playing with your clit, cursing at the sight. “You have fun, alright.” He kissed your lower lips as he waited for you to move your fingers, wanting to suck on your clit. Christian held your wrist to move your hand, and before moving them entirely, he took your fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking every digit clean.

“Fuck, I’m about to lose it,” you spoke freely, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

“You desperately need that break, don’t you?” Minho licked his lower lip, no longer being able to hold himself back. With the waistband already being loosened, he could snake his hand under it and his boxers, massaging his growing bulge. “I think I need one too.”

Christian used his saliva to further lubricate your clit, enclosing his lips around it promptly. This caused your back to arch off the bed. By how Christian held you, you weren’t able to move your lower body much, and so he was able to suck roughly on your clit despite your increasingly unstable body.

Your hand flew to your mouth, wanting to make as less noise as possible. “Haven’t you been—ah, fuck—going out? Having your fun?”

Minho chuckled. “No, I haven’t been able to entertain myself as much as I did when I was last with you.”

“You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Of course I have.” Minho now held his shaft upright, stroking himself very slowly. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You caressed the top of Christian’s head, looking at him adoringly. He knew exactly what to do with that tongue and mouth of his to get to closer to the edge. And despite your scepticism of his idea to have Minho on the phone to you during this intimate moment, you couldn’t deny that it did provide an excitement factor to the situation.

“Has it been harder…” you clenched onto Christian’s hair gently, sending him a signal, “than you expected to be away from me?” When he did in fact suck on your clit with more strength, you knew he understood your intentions.

“It’s definitely been hard…” Minho exhaled a moan as his dampened thumb from his pre-cum rubbed the back of his tip. “You can’t even imagine.”

“What if you did see me faster? Then what?” Christian’s sucking motion on your clit picked up in pace and you were not prepared for it, surprised by how your responded so well to it. Your jaw gaped as you were rendered speechless before shutting your eyes closed, gritting your teeth, hissing under your breath, “Holy fuck!”

The lewd sounds created heightened in volume, and although in another circumstance, you would be worried whether the person on the phone would able to hear, you really couldn’t give two fucks who could hear you right now. Your lips parted once more as your breaths became shallower. The grip you had on your phone weakened as your body began to succumb to the impending orgasm.

Christian could feel just through his touch that you were getting close, and he did not let up. “Don’t stop and I’ll make you cum.”

“You know I just want to treat you right. I still need to make you feel good. I want to make you feel so good, Y/N…” Minho’s voice drifted to a heavy sigh, trying to control his breathing as his hand pumped his hard shaft faster. “I want to see you, Y/N.”

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you warned Christian with a strained voice, your mind completely removed from the conversation you were supposed to be having, only concentrating on the pleasure you’re receiving. “I want you to make me cum.”

As if innately, Minho squeezed his fingers tighter around the tip of his already leaking cock, working his fist faster and faster, sensing his orgasm approaching. “I want to make you cum so hard. Is that what you want, Y/N?”

“You want to cum, Y/N?” Christian muffled against you with a cocked eyebrow.

“Oh god, yes! Fuck!” Your head dug deeper into the pillow beneath your head, your arms splaying to your sides as your body moved on its own, letting your orgasm hit you profoundly, hitting every nerve of your body.

Minho’s eyes were screwed shut and his jaw slacked as he felt the sticky white strips of cum shoot from his throbbing cock, coating his fist and wrist, moaning lowly inwardly. His hips bucked into his hand, milking every last drop. “Oh, fuck.”

Christian still attempted to keep you still as he licked your clit through your orgasm, wanting you to come down from it slowly. It was when your body began to sputter less he started placing small kisses on the inside of your thigh. “Good girl.”

It took a moment or two for you to come back to your senses, and by the time you had opened your eyes, Christian was already crawling up your body until he reached your neck, kissing it roughly. A faint call of your name was heard from your left, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. When you turned your head towards the sound, you realised Minho was still on the line.

“Oh shit!” you shrieked and launched for your phone.

However, it was quickly removed from your hand by Christian sweeping it away, bringing it to his ear. “She can’t see you tomorrow. Or the day after. In fact, I wouldn’t bother trying to call her again, she’ll be too busy screaming my name.”

Your eyes went wide in shock, in disbelief Christian had just said those words. You covered your face in embarrassment, but was still able to laugh about it. Christian held your wrists to pull your hands away from your face, revealing to you his cheesy grin.

“Now at least he knows not to call you anymore,” Christian chuckled. He pecked your smiling lips a few times until he kissed you deeply, embracing you by the small of your back. The smiles were gone from both of your faces, both of you becoming consumed in lust once again.

“And if tries to call you again,” he placed his index finger and thumb on your chin to make you look at him, making you see how serious he was being. “You tell me how I can make you cum again so he won’t forget that I’m yours.”

a/n: this has been on my mind for a week, i had to write this.

#christian yu smut #christian yu scenarios #khh smut #khh scenarios #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #dpr smut #dpr scenarios #christian yu #dpr visuals #i've half proof read this i'll do the rest tomorrow #mino smut #mino scenarios #winner smut #winner scenarios #song minho #*

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the-truest-sentence-i-know · 4 years

Text

Chapter Nine | Flings

Fandom: Disney’s Descendants

Summary: Quinn Little, raised in Auradon by Little John, finds out that her heritage is not what she thought it was. When Little John tells her that her real father was a villain, she must go on a journey of self-discovery that will bring her to all the forbidden places in the United States of Auradon.

Pre-canon & canon compliant to the first Descendants film.

Word Count: 5.1k | 9/23

ao3 ||| ff.net ||| wattpad ||| quotev

Another part of being in the Crew was working at the shop. One day, when Quinn came into the shop for her shift, she found Jax, Saoirse, and Seamus in a heated argument with two people she did not recognize.

“…gotta be a better way we can settle this,” Jax said, managing a calm voice even though Quinn could see his frustration.

“We’ve had to make some new considerations, move some things around,” said a young woman with short dark hair and chestnut skin.

“What kind of considerations, Fabienne?” Seamus demanded. “We have not broken any of the agreements we made with Maleficent. She has no reason to change the terms.”

“Maleficent needs no reason to change the terms,” Fabienne said, haughtily.

“Yes, she can do as she pleases,” piped up the smaller redhaired girl beside her.

“Hush, Winnie,” Fabienne said. “You’re here to observe how negotiations work.”

“This is hardly a negotiation,” Saoirse muttered.

“So, what are the new terms?” Jax asked.

“You pay 75% of full price for supplies, stay off the shipping docks and not attack Maleficent’s castle or any of her associates or allies, and we won’t attack you either.”

Jax’s jaw clenched. “That’s hardly a fair deal.”

“Would you rather pay full price?” Fabienne asked. “And start a war between us?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Very well, it seems I have no choice.” He smiled stiffly and held out his hand. “It’s a deal.”

Fabienne shook his hand firmly, a triumphant look on her face. With a nod at Saoirse and Seamus, she and Winne turned to leave. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Neither spared half a glance for Quinn, which she was grateful for because Fabienne emulated Maleficent to a nearly uncanny degree. And while a lot of the VKs here were alright, the old footage of Maleficent shown to them at Auradon Prep still haunted her.

Jax leant against the counter looking frustrated and exhausted, brow furrowed. “Alright, Seamus, go to Tuka, see if the Defiant Doom also had a change in agreement. Try and negotiate supplies through our alliance. Saoirse, look at the numbers and rationing. Send Cyrus here to plan with me. And have Jukes go out scouting so we know how exactly Maleficent has moved things around.”

They nodded and quickly left the shop. Quinn quietly approached the counter, hanging her jacket on the coat rack. Jax looked up at her, his expression softening into very nearly a smile.

“And, so, your education on the inner workings of the Isle continues,” he said.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Quinn asked.

“Not unless they taught you about how to negotiate with unreasonable magic-less witches at your princess school,” he said.

“I’m afraid not,” Quinn said.

He nodded. “Didn’t think so,” They stood in silence for a moment. “But I could use someone to brainstorm with until Cyrus gets here.”

Quinn sat on the counter beside him. “So Maleficent controls the docks,” she said slowly. “And so, although she may not have more people has more negotiating power.”

Jax nodded, watching her with interest.

“The only way to even the scales is with some kind of leverage or new variable between us and Maleficent.”

She heard Jax inhale sharply and looked over at him. A grin was growing over his face. He hopped off the counter and faced her. “Quinn, you are a genius.” He kissed her cheek quickly and hurried out of the store.

For a moment, Quinn sat frozen on the counter, biting her lip to stifle the wide grin beaming over her features. “No problem,” she whispered.

•••

When her shift ended a few hours later, it was Corinna who came to take her place instead of her brother.

“Where’s Cai?” Quinn asked.

“Apparently something important’s happening,” the little Powder Monkey said. “Everyone has to report to the Jolly Roger immediately.”

Quinn nodded and shrugged on her jacket as she headed out the door. Arriving on the Jolly Roger, the meeting had just ended belowdecks. In the center of the space was a large table with a map depicting the entire island with figures representing important players in the various gangs.

Jax turned and saw her. “Did no one call Quinn for the meeting?” he demanded.

No one said anything.

He sighed. “Alright, Quinn you’re with me, we’ll brief you as we go.”

Everyone headed out in small groups of two or three. Jax, Cai, and Hugo stayed behind for a few minutes.

“So, what’s the plan?” Quinn asked Hugo.

“Our group is going to sneak into Maleficent’s castle and kidnap Mal for leverage over her,” he said quickly.

“And what’s everyone else doing?”

“The duos are watching the Faciliers, Weseltons, and Shan Yu’s kids,” he said. “Cyrus, Jukes, and Blake I don’t know – their mission is secret; I’m pretty sure only Jax and Saoirse know.

Quinn nodded.

“Alright, guys,” Jax said and they all gathered around him. “Everyone else has had enough time to get into position, time for us to go.”

They walked casually through the city, staying mostly in the shadows, but not so much to seem suspicious. They passed Seamus and Nia, standing across the street from the Weseltons. Jax nodded discretely at them as they continued.

“What about Yzma’s kids?” she whispered to Hugo. “Who’s watching them?”

“Only Yoyotli and Ynes are with Maleficent,” he explained. “Yolanda and Yesenia are with Defiant Doom and they agreed to keep them occupied tonight.”

They neared Maleficent’s castle, looming over the rest of the city like a bad omen. In addition to its size, its gothic architecture set it apart from the ramshackle urban jungle of the rest of the Isle.

The four crouched behind a pile of empty crates near the main entrance. A troll stood on either side of the huge doors.

“We’re going through the front door?” Quinn whispered.

“All the others lead to a maze of passages,” Jax whispered. “We’d never find our way out.”

They watched the trolls a few moments more. They did not patrol back and forth, just stood still.

“Quinn,” Jax said. “If I get you up to that ledge,” he pointed at one about eight feet up. “Can you climb up to the window?”

Quinn looked up the wall, noting where bricks stuck out. The window was about twelve feet up. Trees were more her thing, but… “Yeah,” she said.

“While Cai and Hugo distract the guards, you climb up there and let this rope down. Cai and I will climb up. Once we’re all inside, you,” he turned to Hugo. “run and help where it’s needed.”

Hugo stepped out into the street and walked toward the trolls. “Good evening, gentlemen!” he called pompously. “I was hoping to ask a few questions.” He beamed up at them. “Do you enjoy working for Maleficent?” he asked. “I mean, I know there’s not a great job market for. Ogres? Are you ogres? Or, tall dwarves?”

Quinn looked over at Jax and Cai. This was the plan?

“He can be very annoying when he wants to be,” Cai said.

It seemed to be working too. Quinn saw how their jaws clenched as they both turned to look at him. Cai slipped from behind the crates and in the shadows of the street. He did a spectacularly bad job sneaking behind the trolls and was easily spotted. A troll spotted him, grabbed his arm and shoved him over to where Hugo was still chatting away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, no,” Cai gasped melodramatically.

Jax nodded at Quinn and they snuck out behind the trolls while they focused on Cai and Hugo. Rope slung over her shoulder, Quinn looked up at the wall. Its sheerness was much more daunting up close.

Jax knelt and laced his fingers together for Quinn to step on. Lifted up, she got a firm grip on the ledge with both hands and began to scramble up as quickly as possible. She was briefly reminded of the tree climbing races they used to have in Sherwood. She had never been the fastest – Ada Dale and her lanky limbs could climb absurdly fast – but she had been decently good. It was often considered the least practical of all their games but was coming to good use now.

She reached the window with a sigh of relief and tumbled inside. It was a very bare small room, only a table and a fireplace inside. But the table looked heavy and Quinn quickly tied the rope to it. Running back to the window, she saw Hugo had annoyed the trolls so much that they were slashing their spears at him. He jumped and ducked out of the way, still taunting them. She let the rope down the wall to Jax, who was watching the encounter with a slight grin. Just as he began to climb, Hugo managed to steal a hat right off of one of the trolls’ heads.

“Hey!” he boomed as Hugo scampered further down the street. The troll charged for him, calling for the other to follow. With a grin, Hugo sprinted down the street, trolls in hot pursuit.

When Jax reached the top, he was laughing. “Nothing like talking to Hugo to get you in a murderous rage.”

They both looked out the window, where Cai was starting to climb the rope. Quinn noticed a girl approaching the castle.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Shit,” Jax said. “Yoyotli’s the runner, she warns Maleficent’s people when she’s attacked.”

The girl stopped in front of the castle, having spotted them. Then she turned and ran back in the direction she had come from.

“Cai!” Jax called down to him. “Yoyo’s spotted us, make sure she doesn’t get to the others!”

Cai nodded and quickly scrambled down.

“We’ve got to hurry now,” Jax said and they ran out the wooden door into the dark corridor.

If the main entrance was the most straightforward way, Quinn would hate to see the maze-like parts. The corridor curved and split constantly, but Jax seemed to know the way. In a few minutes, they stopped in front of a wooden door, spray painted green and purple. The main design was Keep out! in all caps.

Jax motioned for them to be quiet as he carefully opened the door. The room was fairly dark, but Quinn could make out the shapes of the furniture and the designs covering the walls. She was a talented artist.

Then she noticed that the bed was empty.

“Didn’t you read the sign?” a voice asked, and Quinn was suddenly tackled from the side and fell to the ground. She caught a glimpse of purple hair as she struggled to get her off. She managed to shove the girl away, and quickly rose to her feet, dagger out.

“Wait, you’re just a kid,” Quinn said, staring at the girl who could not be more than ten or eleven.

“Yeah? What’s your point?” she said. “I could still take both of you.” She charged at Quinn, but before she was withing reach, Jax had stepped behind her and grabbed her arms. Mal struggled but it was useless, and she glared at them.

“You didn’t say she was a little kid,” Quinn whispered to Jax. Mal was sitting tied to a chair across the room.

“We’re not going to hurt her,” Jax said. “When Maleficent gives us a better deal, we’ll let her go.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Quinn asked, even quieter so Mal did not hear her. “Villains don’t seem to be too fond of their kids.”

“No, but they do need their kids,” Jax said. “They’re heirs, means to ends, whatever.”

Quinn sighed. “Alright. What was your plan for getting her out of here, because she definitely isn’t going to come quietly.”

Jax walked over to her and knocked her head with the butt of his dagger.

“What the hell!” Quinn exclaimed. “You could have killed her.”

“She’s just unconscious,” he said. “She’ll be fine.”

Mal carried between them, they had nearly reached the little room again, when they heard running footsteps. They echoed in the stone halls so much that it was impossibly to know where they were coming from. They ran faster, glancing behind but not seeing anything.

A boy and a girl, both with red hair, suddenly stepped out into their path.

“Willa, Wesley,” Jax said, smiling winningly. “What can we do for you?”

“I think we’ll take that off your hands,” Willa said.

Quinn looked over at Jax to see how they were going to get out of this. She could see his mind going over the variables of the situations. “Hold this,” he said, letting go of Mal so all her weight was on Quinn. He drew his sword and charged at the Weseltons.

Quinn realized that she had never seen Jax really fight before, only in training. Like every other move he made, it was graceful, effortless. He made it seem almost elegant. And since she had some training, she could appreciate it more. At no point was he unaware of his opponent’s movements, at no point was there an opening for them to exploit.

She understood even more how he was captain. Not only could he explain strategies and plan attacks, but he was an active participant, the reason they could succeed. She remembered the something that Dad used to say, that a true king led his people into battle.

She was so mesmerized by Jax’s swordplay that she almost did not notice when Mal moved. Before she could do anything, the girl had slipped from her grasp and stolen the dagger from her belt. With it, she cut the rope binding her wrists and feet. Quinn unsheathed her sword.

Mal smiled sweetly. “We both know you’re not going to fight a little kid like me.”

Quinn hesitated. She was right. She did not want to fight a ten-year-old.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Mal ducked under her sword and barrelled into Jax, throwing him off balance. He managed not to fall but caught the elbow of Willa in the jaw.

Quinn rushed forward. They just had to make it to the little room and the door was only a few steps away. She sprinted and pounced on the back of Wesley, who stumbled under her weight, crashing into Willa. Quinn tumbled off his back, disoriented for a moment before Jax grabbed her hand and pulled her along the corridor. They stumbled into the room, slamming and barring the door behind them.

Jax ran to the window, looking out at the city. Quinn joined him. “What are you looking for?”

He pointed and Quinn followed his gaze. Flying from the main mast of the Jolly Roger was a green flag.

“We did it,” he said, out of breath.

“What?”

Jax lowered his voice, glancing over at the door. “This was all a big distraction,” he said. “the real mission was to make a secret entrance to the supply warehouse; that’s what Cyrus, Jukes and Blake were doing. That flag means they were successful.”

“So we have food and supplies?” Quinn asked, a smile spreading over her features.

He grinned. “We have access to all the supplies we need.”

The moment was interrupted by a loud crash. The door rattled on its hinges.

“Guess we’d better go,” Jax said. “Princesses first.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and started down the rope, Jax right behind her. They were halfway down when a louder crash told them the door had just been broken down. Willa and Wesley appeared at the window above them, wasting no time in climbing after them.

Jax and Quinn jumped the last few feet and sprinted into the dark streets.

•••

They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, hearing the pounding footsteps behind hem. Jax looked over at Quinn, his adrenaline-inspired grin mirroring hers. They turned into a narrow alleyway that twisted and turned between decrepit buildings.

Suddenly, he pulled them into a small alcove and they waited for the Weseltons chasing them to speed past. They stood very close to each other, Jax’s hand still gripping Quinn’s arm. They both were still out of breath from running and Quinn’s heart raced.

Quinn almost spoke but Jax gestured for her not to, as Willa and Wesley came past. Once they were gone, Quinn looked back up at Jax and found something in his eyes she had not seen before – or perhaps she had, but not with this intensity. He pulled her closer still and she inhaled sharply, unsure of what to do.

Then he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers and Quinn felt her heart hammering more than ever. It was not like it was entirely out of the blue. They had both quite clearly expressed interest over the past few weeks. What did surprise her was that he decided to do this now, in a chase situation.

What surprised her even more was that she quite liked the idea of doing this now.

Their chapped lips created a certain friction and Quinn could not help but think how wonderful it felt.

His hands, which had been on the small of her back, pulling her even closer to him, now moved to her waist as he pushed her backwards until she bumped into the wall behind her. Cautiously, Quinn slipped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his long hair.

Soon they had to break apart due to lack of air, and Quinn looked at Jax, slightly breathless, a smile involuntarily growing over her face. “Why…?”

He flashed her his nonchalant, mischievous grin. “Don’t overthink it.” After checking that the coast was clear, he motioned for her to follow him. Trying to collect her thoughts, Quinn hurried after him.

•••

By the time Quinn and Jax returned to the Jolly Roger, the party was in full swing. Everyone was laughing and speaking loudly over the blaring music, drinks in hand. At the centre of the deck was a table laden with bread, slightly overripe fruit, and other scraps from Auradon, presumably straight from the warehouse.

Jax quickly disappeared into the crowd with Saoirse and Cyrus, briefing them on what happened. Quinn found Nia, Nabil, Hugo, and Clove standing to the side and joined them.

“Lead the trolls on a good chase?” she asked Hugo.

He grinned. “Yup, I led them all around the Isle. Even went past the shipping docks and picked up a few more.” He looked over to where Jax stood in the corner speaking seriously with Saoirse and Cyrus. “So what happened? Why didn’t you get Mal?”

“I thought it was all a distraction,” Quinn said. “The goal wasn’t to kidnap her.”

“Saoirse told me that they’d hoped they could do both,” Clove said. “The warehouse was the priority but Mal as a hostage would have been a nice plus.”

“Well, anyway, Willa and Wesley showed up,” Quinn said.

Nabil looked over at Nia, who was quieter than usual. “You and Seamus were watching the Weseltons, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, they managed to slip by us somehow. We didn’t realize they’d gotten word of the attack until they were gone. Seamus told me to stay and watch Winnie and that he’d go warn you guys, but I guess he was too late.”

“Well, at least we got the warehouse,” Quinn said smiling, trying to cheer Nia up. “And that’s what we really needed.”

“Cheers to that,” Clove said, holding up their cup. They all touched cups and took a swig. Quinn’s face screwed up at the bitter sour taste and she tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a cough.

Hugo snorted.

“Have you never had beer before?” Nia asked.

Quinn blushed a little. “No, my dad was strict about that.”

Clove grinned. “Well then, tonight should be fun.”

Soon Cai appeared and pulled Clove into a dance. Then Corinna, the oldest of the Powder Monkeys, blushingly asked Nia if she wanted to dance and she agreed.

Quinn stood with the two guys for a few minutes before turning to them. “So, are you two gonna buck up and ask someone to dance?” she asked them.

They looked at her in surprise.

“Nah,” Hugo said, dismissively.

Nabil was quick to agree. “Yeah, dancing’s lame anyway.”

His foot tapping and Hugo’s slight swaying to the beat betrayed them.

Quinn rolled her eyes and stepped in front of them, holding out both hands. “Come on.”

In the dense tangle of bodies moving to the music, the three spun and turned, laughing and trying to shout-sing along. Jukes joined them for a moment before pulling Quinn away, so they were dancing together.

“I heard you did good,” they shouted over the music. “You and Jax work well together.”

Did she know? Was that a knowing smile? Quinn suddenly thought. Jukes did always seem to read her too well. She just nodded. “Yeah.”

Quinn had been trying not to think about the kiss – or, at least, not to overthink the kiss. She was prone to overthink things after they happened, especially reckless things. And a kiss in an alley with a pirate while being chased definitely counted as reckless.

So she let herself get lost in the music and the pounding bassline that she could feel in her bones and the rest of the Crew dancing around her. It was a kind of belonging – though much different than any one she had felt before.

Amid the slight chaos of limbs and torsos, Quinn caught sight of Jax, watching her with a slight smile. And she liked him. She really liked him. So she beamed at him – a type of smile only possible with the happiness that comes with loud music, friends and one and a half beers.

And as the crowd engulfed her again, she saw his lips curl into a different smile – more to himself than her. It was a soft smile, one that comes with a warm heart and tender eyes.

•••

While tipsy Quinn could avoid overthinking, sober Quinn had a harder time. Throughout their pickpocket training with Sheela, she could not help but let her mind drift back to Jax. It was not that she had any qualms about being with him, or that she was uncertain of either of their feelings.

But she did not know how all of that worked on the Isle. There were romantic relationships, but she had never heard anyone referred to as a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or partner, or even that they were dating. The only word that seemed to be used was ‘fling’.

VKs don’t date. Jukes told her this during a scouting mission that night. While the mission against Maleficent had guaranteed the Crew supplies, it did mean that she was likely to retaliate.

“Okay,” Quinn said. “Then what about Blake and Seamus?”

“They’re a fling,” they said.

“So it’s a short-term thing?”

“Not necessarily. It can last for a long time,” They turned to her. “It’s an alliance of sorts, but more than a regular one. You trust each other more and...” They grinned. “you get a little fun on the side.”

Quinn looked out again and shifted so she was sitting on the edge of the roof.

“You and Jax are a fling, aren’t you?” Jukes asked after a moment.

After a pause, Quinn said, “From what you described, I think so – or, nearly.” Quinn glanced over at them. “Is that good? Bad?”

“That depends,” they said, grinning a little. “How is he at kissing?”

Quinn snorted and shook her head, rolling her eyes as she looked out at the city again.

“That good, huh?” they said. “Well, then it’s good. As long as you’re enjoying it, it’s good.”

•••

Quinn was just heading to the guest cabin on the Jolly Roger where Seamus was staying temporarily so she could change his bandages when she heard arguing voices from inside.

“...don’t see how I could have prevented –” Jax exclaimed.

“If you had listened to my advice about a truce with them this wouldn’t have happened!” Seamus shouted.

“We can’t just bow our heads to some smaller gang just because they threaten to attack us,” Jax said.

“That smaller gang did attack us and nearly won too.”

“But they didn’t and no one was too badly injured.” Jax spotted Quinn in the doorway. “He’s well on his way to recovering, right?”

Quinn did not want to barge in on this, but perhaps her presence would calm the situation. She stepped into the room. “Yes, but you do need to rest a little longer.”

Seamus was looking better; he was less pale and, judging from the argument, getting his energy back. But he did not look happy. He eyed Jax angrily.

“We’ll, uh, talk later, Seamus,” said Jax, giving Quinn a nod before leaving the room.

Quinn set about removing the old bandages. They were really just strips of cloth that she had washed as best she could. The wound was looking good, no discolouring or other signs of infection. “I would recommend not exerting yourself too much – in shouting matches, for example – or you might pop your stitches,” she remarked.

“Yeah, well, he’s the reason I was wounded in the first place,” Seamus muttered, wincing a little.

Quinn said nothing and continued with her work. She did not know enough about the situation to comment, but she hoped that Jax was in the right here.

Fortunately, Seamus’ attitude got improved as he did, and Quinn heard no more arguments between them.

•••

The next day, when Quinn came into the shop for her shift, she smiled at Jax. “Horrible morning,” she said, cheerfully.

He grinned. “Catching on are you, princess?”

Quinn grinned in return as she tossed her coat onto the coatrack. “Don’t call me that.”

“As you wish, your highness,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

“Okay,” Quinn said, rolling her eyes at him. “I am nowhere near royalty.”

“Closest there is around here.”

She glanced around. “Are you sure you should be saying stuff like that?” She stepped towards him. “Isn’t it supposed to be a secret?”

Shrugging, he said, “I told them you were homeschooled, remember? The only other homeschooled VK is the daughter of the Evil Queen. They’d assume I was referring to her.”

“Why is she homeschooled?”

“Some spat with the all-powerful Maleficent,” he said in an exaggerated tone.

Quinn giggled and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“I’m working on the laugh, okay,” she said, pushing him lightly.

“Good, because that makes you sound,” he leaned in and whispered, “like a princess.”

She pushed him again, grinning. “Funny.”

As Quinn turned away, he grabbed her arm gently and she looked at him again. “You were out of it the past couple days,” he said. “What changed?”

After thinking about it for a second, she gave him her most mischievous grin. “I feel... bad.”

A grin spread over his features and he pulled her closer. “About damn time.”

•••

Quinn had never actually dated anyone before. She had kissed Winston, Will Scarlet’s son, when she was sixteen, but that had been about it.

She was willing to bet, however, that dating in Auradon and flings on the Isle were different. In Auradon, it was all chaste cheek kisses before going to class, hand-holding in the hallways, and maybe a make-out session under the bleachers. Boys and girls were magically prevented from visiting each other’s dorms after sundown, so if anything was happening, it had to be pretty sneaky. It was not that they were expressly told not to have sex, it was just kind of understood. Many kids got married not too long after high school anyway.

But on the Isle, everything was passionate, unashamed, and entangled in fight training – at least, that was what it was like with Jax. Sparring turned into making out and back again just as quickly. It certainly taught her to be on guard at all times, but also added an element of thrill and adrenaline to their time together.

And there was no judgement. Quinn had already walked into the room above the shop with the other sailors to find Cai and Clove or Blake and Seamus multiple times. The others had kind of rolled their eyes and turned to leave. So, when the same thing happened to her and Jax, she was not as embarrassed as she otherwise would have been.

Jukes found it all very amusing. “Of course, you two ended up together!”

“Was it that predictable?” Quinn asked. They both had the night off and were sitting at the bar.

“No, it’s that unpredictable,” she said. “Jax has never had a fling with anyone on the Crew before.”

“People have flings between gangs?” Quinn asked in surprise.

Jukes shrugged, taking a swig of her beer. “Not often, but it happens. People used to swear he was with Harriet, but now that we’ve actually seen her, she looks too old for him. He definitely had something with Francoise though. It didn’t last long because her dad, Frollo, found out, and was furious.” She laughed. “So I guess we just never knew what his type was. I mean, he also made out with Tuka once at a party, but I think that was just a one-time thing. Although,” she looked at Quinn. “Now that he’s with you, maybe we at least know his type in girls.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Francoise’s dad is the leader of the Innocents, and you were homeschooled, and you’re, you know, you,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You’re softer types.”

“What do you mean, soft?” Quinn said, defensively.

“It’s not always a bad thing,” Jukes reassured her. “Sheela’s soft too, and she’s great.” She grinned. “And, I mean, if Jax is into it…”

Quinn rolled her eyes and threw back the last of her beer.

“You know what’s another great thing about all this?” Jukes continued. “It drives Blake absolutely nuts. It’s all he talks about at home.” She lowered her voice to imitate Blake, “She’ll get special privileges. She’ll be sleeping in his cabin before we know it. And being with the newest recruit? As a leader, he should know better.” Jukes snorted. “And then Dad and I roll our eyes, cause, I mean, holy shit, how’s he supposed to have a fling if he has to make sure everything is fair between the Crew?”

Quinn felt herself blush slightly at the mention of Jax’s cabin. “So, what about you?” she asked, leaning back in her chair. “Any notable flings?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she said with a grin. “Cai, for a few months last year, before he was with Clove. I also kissed Cyrus once,” she mused. “and I know that was a bad idea, cause they’re brothers and all, but hopefully Cai doesn’t know. Also, Florian.”

“Francoise’s brother?”

“What can I say, the Innocents get around.”

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cuthie · 4 years

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Omru: Dazar’alor Roleplay

(( This is just copy/pasted discord roleplay that I’m archiving for my own records. Might be a boring read or too long for most. But then again, who’s reading my short stories anyways, right? Just me. :p )) Dazar’alor, city of gold, capital of Zuldazar and once the center of the world spanning Zandalari empire of old. The ancient troll home somehow survived the Sundering, survived the prophesied sinking of the island, the Cataclysm, the Burning Legion and threats both foreign and domestic over thousands of years. In modern day it was a melting pot of all Troll races, each tribe carving out it’s own nook, bringing new cultural celebrations, rituals and perspectives. Trade was booming, crime was at an all time low, and the King was beloved by all… Most.. Many… Even with the loss of Rezan, Loa of Kings, the empire withstood the power of the gargantuan C’Thraxxi warbringer, Mythrax. Furthermore, the city banded together with the Horde to rid Azeroth of the Old God Titan experiment, G’huun the blood God. Nothing and no one could keep this city nor it’s people down for long.

And then came the Alliance. Jaina Proudmoore led the Kul’tirans and the factions of the Alliance into the city, tricking it’s armies into leaving the King’s side for the swamps of Nazmir. Neigh defenseless, the Zandalari lost thousands. Their soldiers, their navy, and even their king. It was a bloodbath the likes they had never known.

Time passed, people trying to move on with their lives, and the former Princess now Queen of the Zandalari formally joined the Horde, seeking retribution. From those descended of royal blood, all the way down to the most lowbourne of guttersnipes, depression and anguish was palpable in the once bright city of riches. Joining the Horde would provide a small comfort, but the Bilgewater Cartel seemed capable of stimulating economic growth. Their own goblin designed ships weren’t as glamorous nor dependable as the Zandalari fleet had been, but with them they brought imports and money. It was one such merchant vessel that Omru had made contact via Goblin engineered walkie. His ticket to the lush jungle paradise of Durotar.

For a brief moment the people near the docks had a flicker of, not hope, but at least mild curiosity and entertainment. Off in the distance, a topless Zandalari man held onto a viney set of reigns attached to not one but two large speckled sea turtles as he stood atop their shells. Wind rushing through his beard, the troll laughed, accompanied by loud acoustic music. On the troll’s shoulders was our beloved fox boy, Omru, strumming away on his father’s guitar. As zany as the idea had been, Om knew that the only way to combat his family curse was to, of course, hire a navigator. That man’s name was Ja’ku. Ja’ku Spearo.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_b_53XplhZE

By the time the duo had made it to the docks, a small crowd had gathered to see what the spectacle was all about. For the first few minutes, the pair were all smiles, Omru hopping down onto the wooden floorboards, still playing his music. Then came an untimely, “Ey, dat mon owes me money!”

Then another. “Ja’ku, you mudda fugga, ya dare show you face round’ere!”

Ja’ku raised his hands defensively, “Now, now. I dun mean no ‘arm in- Oh, what be dat ova dere!?”

Predictably, a handful of accusers turned to look and in that split second, Ja’ku was off on foot, running further into the city, leaving Omru there to suffer the eyes of the crowd.

“Uh… I’m not with him. Just.. Passing through…”

-- “No… I don’t get it. Please explain to me again why this is ‘proper animal husbanding’ as you put it?”

The ebony haired Sin’dorei boy blew an annoyed breath out through pursed lips and rolled his eyes dramatically. Returning his haughty glare to the Vulpera girl with the deep red fur and too much eyeliner sitting on the crate, he shook his head.

“Listen fuzzball, there’s a lot of things someone like you just won't understand. It’s not your fault, you’ve basically been frying in the desert forever with nothing but bugs to play with. Sure, all that sun can make for a great tan but too much can rot your brain. Just like too many vegetables. Here’s a live lesson for you. If someone like me.. Well, there’s really no one like me but I mean a Sin’dorei tells you something you should just listen. We’ve been around for a billion years, maybe longer. We’ve seen everything, tried everything, are smarter than most, better looking than most and basically just better at everything.”

He leaned down to look her in the eye and winked.

“And that includes animal husbanding tricks.”

The Vulpera girl’s left eyebrow rose as she took the guy in. Her eyes flicking from his ‘better than you’ expression to the large black bird he had pinned under one arm as he went on. “…You mean life lesson?”

He rolled his eyes again.

“No.. Live lesson. Because you live the lesson, duh.”

She looked to the huge bird again. Intrigued by how it seemed to make eye contact with anyone paying attention, as if pleading for help. It’s eyes were locked onto her, beak parted slightly as it panted from the struggling she had interrupted. She spoke to it, if anything just to get under the guys skin a little.

“Is he always this spectacularly unintelligent and conceited?”

To her surprise, the bird let out a croaky sound as if to answer. The boy’s face lit up and he beamed at her.

“Aaaw, you didn’t have to say that. I am pretty spectacular, aren’t I? You know, you little guys aren’t so bad. I mean, you have that whole cute thing going on, I’m sure that helps.” Giving her another flash of his pearly whites, he reached for the scissors again. Seeing the flash of metal, the bird flew into a fit of struggling again. Pecking, kicking, clawing and doing anything in its power to get out of his iron grip. One enormous wing popped free, causing him to drop the scissors to wrangle it with both hands again. The flaps from just that single wing were enough to knock over a stack of smaller boxes and send dust and debris flying about. “See!?! I have to clip its wings! It’s nuts and it’s gonna fly off before I can get it home to give my wife!”

She squinted and held up a hand against the torrent of dust, watching the scene with mixed feelings. She had traded critters before, plenty of times. What were the odds any of those had ended up in the hands of someone like this? The more the poor thing struggled, it’s eyes pleading with her, the more she felt sick about it. Maybe living things should be off the list going forward.. Unless it was food stuff anyway. Trade, that’s it! She quickly pulled her pack off her back and into her lap, rummaging through her things. “Hey Cinder-eye! What about this? I got something way better than some dusty old unruly bird for your wife. You know they carry parasites, right? Kind of a gross gift if you ask me. But this! This would surely win you some brownie points, buddy.”

With much flair, she pulled an ornate looking scroll case out of her bag and held it up. With tiny practiced movements, she twisted it this way and that. Just enough for the sun to glint off the golden embossed lettering along the side that read Old “Pirate” Map, in fancy scrawl. “You two probably like date nights, right? How about an adventure?! When’s the last time you two went off into the wild blue yonder together and had some fun, eh? I’ll trade you this for that ratty old bird, straight over. No haggling or anything.”

The boy’s eyes were locked on the thing, he and the bird both no longer struggling. After a long moment of staring, he finally blinked and looked to her with suspicion. “Wait… Why would you trade something like that for a bird if you think it sucks so much?”

She blinked, having honestly pegged him for being too dumb to think that far into it. Thinking quickly she looked down at the case, ran a finger over the thick gold (plated) carving on its cap and nodded. “…Yea… Good point. I know a good place for a bird like that is all buuuuut… Yea, I’m not sure it’s worth the fun this might lead to. You’re right, I should pro-“

Before she could finish her sentence he snatched the case out of her hand and shoved the huge raven into her arms.

“Nope!! You said straight over! A deals a deal, no take backsies!” As if expecting her to put up a fight he quickly grabbed up his pack, turned on his heel and rushed off towards his ship. Mumbling something about cute, dumb Vulpera idiots..

She watched with a smirk as the guy walked off with her most worthless item. Sure, he might get a little money for the case. But the map itself was just directions to some rundown tavern her and her buds made as a joke one night. “Dumbass…”

It was then she realized she was still holding the bird in her lap, cradled like a toddler. A large toddler.. It was damn near as big as she was but oddly enough, wasn’t struggling. Instead, the two just eyed each other for a long moment, neither moving. Somehow the look in it’s eyes as it stared back seemed.. thankful? She carefully slid off the crate she had been sitting on and set the creature down.

“Uuuh, there you go bird. You’re welcome.”

The thing flicked out its wings a little but otherwise just sat there, it’s head tilting left and right as it watched her. She made a shooing motion, suddenly wondering what exactly a bird that size might eat.. Smaller furry creatures maybe? She shuddered, remembering more than one run in with the vulture flocks back in the sands. One large red ear twisted then at the sound of music coming from farther down the docks. She glanced back to the bird and gave an uneasy nod.

“Heh, yeeeea… So, see yu!”

Tossing her pack over her shoulder she quickly trotted off towards the strumming then shoved her way through the crowd of knees and butts to see what was up. A grin crawled across her face as she eyed the strange duo coming to shore.

“What in the sands?!”

Omru looked around, noting that there were just as many oddball races down at the docks as there were Zandalari, maybe even more so. A set of glowing yellow eyes stared down at him from a rotting face, it’s urine colored skin peeling off to reveal white maggots squirming underneath. Gulping, he changed the strumming of his guitar. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fN57L9HcZsQ

“Listen… We don’t need to make a scene here, in fact.. ~Something told me long ago, there’s a calm before the storm and I know! It’s been comin’ for some time.” Giving a confident smile and wink, Omru began to half walk half dance as he continued playing and singing, “When it’s over, so they say.. It’ll rain a sunny day, I know! Shinin’ down like water!”

Tauren, Trolls, Zombies, Orcs, Tortollan and even talking Bears all seemed to nod at him or tap their feet. Well, those who had feet anyways. Regardless of the few who seemed to be enjoying the show, at least half of the crowd had already lost interest, and another quarter just stared at him before running after Ja’ku.

“I wanna kno- OW-FUCK!”

Omru rubbed at his head, a rock having hurled it’s way right between his ears. The small sect of listeners that were less parted, revealed four very tall Zandalari women. Everyone knew that the women were the most fierce fighters of the empire, making up the majority of their guards. Or was that the Naga? Omru squinted his eyes up at them as they approached, towering over him.

“Ey, fox boy. You dun sing on our turf. We be de Bang Drum Gang, de only ones what be allowed te perform on dese docks. So take ya geetar an beat it, befo we beat you.”

As if to emphasize their point, the three drummers standing behind their leader began to bang on their drums, harnessed over their shoulders and down to their waists. Simultaneously they would beat their drums twice, then stomp the ground with their feet. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onJQ1dpsAF8 The snarling leader sung out in a gruff albeit totally in tune voice, “Foxy be a boy, makin big noise, playin on de docks, gonna be a big Mon some day. Ya got mud on face, ya lil disgrace, dun make us kick ya ass all ova’ de place!”

Wadding up her fists, the three drummers began chanting, “We will, we will, rock you! We will, we will, rock you!”

It was his calling. It was beautiful, it was amazing, it was destiny. Before he could even think, Omru began to shred on his father’s guitar, grinning at the crowd and wiggling his eyebrows. For ten seconds, he was a rock star and all of Dazar’alor was his stage. And then a two toed dirty foot connected with his jaw, sending him and all of his stuff flying through the air to land with a plop in the ocean water below.

The drumming stopped, “Ey, dat weren’t no invitation! We told ya ta scram, Vulpera!”

Grumbling and slightly humiliated, Omru swam back to shore as the Bang Drum Gang continued their song, parading down the docks and further into the city, crowd at their heels. Making his way back onto the wooden walkway, Omru dumped the water out of his guitar. His pack was enchanted to be waterproof, no worries there, but water could certainly warp the wood of his instrument.

“Assholes…”

“Man, you got it in weird with these trolls, buddy. How are you gonna come riding in on the shoulders of one, who’s riding in on freaking sea turtles no less.. then immediately get booted back out to sea by others? You have a rep around here or just bad luck?”

She watched as he tidied his things and fiddled with his now soggy guitar. Moisture damaged instruments wasn’t something she had much personal experience with. Not a lot of risk of that in the sands and she had only recently been venturing out past that to the isles. Her first rescue mission, impromptu as it was, delivering her all the way here to the Zandalari city of Dazar’alor. But.. She had seen people dry out waterlogged driftwood next to a fire so maybe…

“Hey, I got a thing that’ll help dry that out!”

With a wide grin spreading across her ‘of course I have something for that’ expression, she pulled her pack off her shoulder and squatted over it to dig around inside. After a moment, she pulled out a metallic canister about as long as her forearm and held it up triumphantly.

“I traded some goblin guy a ride for this thing. He was desperate to get out of the desert ASAP so was all for the trade when I asked about it. They may be a bit weird, funky looking and kinda suspicious but those guys have the best toys, let me tell you. Cool thing was, the girl with the wagon I set him up with owed me anyway so it was basically free. It’s called a dragon gun, or dragon’s breath gun or something like that. Sounds awesome right? Just uh, hold out that soggy guitar of yours a moment while I fire this thing up. Maybe away from your face, just to be safe. I know it’s small but this’ll be the first time I’m using it and I’m not up for BBQ’d boy.”

She aimed the nozzle at the guitar and fiddled with the little red valve knob, then flicked the two switches on the side up and down. As nothing happened, she repeated the process a few times, trying to maintain her ‘let me show you something amazing’ face. Nothing… Not even a burp of heat..

“Sssssshhhit… That little butthole, no wonder he traded it so willingly, its broke!”

With that, she chucked the thing aside, teeth momentarily bared with a growl of frustration. The metallic -clang- as it hit the stone ground a little ways away echoed off nearby surfaces and a couple heads turned to look. It bounced once then landed again with another clang, this time smacking down on the valve end. Upon impact the nozzle blasted out an enormous cone of fire, the heat of it felt even yards away where they stood. Despite the items diminutive size, had that been aimed at the Vulpera boy and his guitar, it would have engulfed him fully and anyone else standing too close to him…

Eyes wide, the little red vulpera girl just stared as the flames bellowed out for a full ten seconds before cutting off again. Luckily nothing of note and no one had been in front of it. What grass, flowers and small plants had been in its path were now gone. Only a bit of wafting smoke and a wide scorch mark left in its wake. Somewhere between amazed and horrified, she turned back to him. Remembering to close her mouth finally, she cleared her throat and scratched at the back of her head.

“Uh yeah.. Sooo… What, umm, what brings you to the city?”

Saltwater still dripping from his fur, Omru stared at the red Vulpera girl as she began chatting about her stuff. A smile instinctively formed. He hadn’t exactly been welcomed into the city, but almost right away he had found someone who understood him. Someone who got him, someone with stuff.

“You want me to hold my most precious family heirloom out while you blast it with that goblin thingy?” Omru looked from the girl, to his guitar and back again. He then nodded his head, trusting in this stranger fully as he held out the instrument with both hands, “Letterip!”

Anticipation bubbled, coursing from the back of his head down to his shoulders as he gripped his guitar tight. Click. Click-click. Nothing. Omru’s bright orange eyes flickered to the side as he tried to maintain a good natured smile. Sometimes people’s stuff, just wasn’t up to snuff. It happened to the best of Vulpera, right? But should he say something comforting, should he just ignore it like it’s no big deal, should he avert his eyes and pretend he didn’t notice?

“Uh.. You know, I think-”

FWOOSH!

The goblin contraption had been carelessly chunked over shoulder, only to trigger a moment later. Fortunately they were near enough the streets and away from the wooden docks, where the blasts of fire only seemed to damage the greenery. If that had been directed at him, his guitar would have been toast. He would have likely been toast too, even with his depleted sunstone. At the thought of the stone, he stowed the wet guitar away and rummaged about his pack. As much as he collected things, people might expect him to take on hoarder tendencies. Nope. Everything either server a purpose or was just really cool. And everything was organized. It never took him more than a moment to rummage through his pack to find things.

Regardless of how fast he had managed to procure the stone, by the time he was ready to use it, the fire expulsions had ceased. The small grey rock in his hand was cool to the touch, and had darkened carved runes all around it. “I uh.. Was gonna use this, but unnecessary now. It absorbs flames and heat, storing the energy so that you can use it again later. In theory.”

Om placed the stone back in its place, then tossed his knapsack strap back over his shoulder. “I’m actually just here to catch a boat. The Horde, I’m sure you’ve heard of them, come from a tropical paradise with engineered vehicles and super models, whatever those are, in a magical place called Durotar. I was gonna go check it out, meet with a friend there. Buuut, I guess now I need to find a shop that can work guitar repairs. This city is coastal, can’t be the first time something was flung into the ocean, right? What about you?”

Om paused to look around, validating his assumption, “Not many Vulpera here at all. Might be just us and one or two more in the entire city.”

Glad to see the guy wasn't running for the sands or ready to give her a load of crap for the honest mistake of nearly frying him, her attention was drawn to the little stone. Curious, she cocked her head to try and get a better look at it just before he tucked it away again. As he spoke, she turned her attention back to the city around them, nodding.

"Yea, this place is HUGE too. I've been here three days and have only seen the lower section of this one side. Can you imagine building something like this? What if they get sick of the spot? And yea, I've only seen a trio of us waiting on a ride back out and one boy waiting in line for a ship last night. He was all suited up in the hordes red and black too. Like they had recruited him for some big face bashing gig. Honestly he might have looked pretty good if it weren't for the spiked shoulders.. Those just kinda made him look dumb and out of place. Eh, still, I'm sure he'll have some awesome stories when he comes back, though."

She glanced at his guitar then back up at the city steps nearest them, thinking a moment.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you bumped into me then. I'm one of my family's best pathfinders. I guess you could even say the best now. Well, I mean if my grandma could still get around well and my dad wasn't stuck helping out Last Wind they would be the best but you know how it is.."

She seemed to pause to consider that thought. Shrugging it off just as quickly, she shot him a sideways look and a confident smirk.

"C'mon, I'll find you the place you need, no problem!"

Without waiting for the soggy boy to respond, she turned on her heel and marched for the stairs leading up into the lower merchants area of the city, fully expecting him to follow.

"Like I said, I've only been here three days so it won't exactly be a direct route. Buuuut I know a guy that'll help. He lives here."

Omru fell in line as soon as the help was offered. He didn’t really consider himself biased, but he just naturally felt more trusting of his own kind. This girl who hadn’t even introduced herself yet had almost roasted him like a desert lizard on a pike, yet here he was following her through the sprawling streets of the Zandalari capital.

“Well, they did get the inkling for a change in locale. The sands have plenty of their old homes and temples from thousands of years ago. According to legend, they used to rule the entire world, the first conquistadors of Azeroth. Then there was war with.. Uh, someone. Bugs? I don’t really remember. Point is, they ruled the world, built everywhere, lost it, then the world split in two.. Twice. I dunno if you remember it, but like six years ago or so Zandalar was rumored to be sinking. Lots of shaking, tectonic plates of something-something. I think they fixed that too, the Zandalaris. I’m not exactly a history buff, but I’ve been around a Tortollan or two, you know?”

Bright orange eyes darted from left to right as his black furry ears twitched, listening to the crowds around them. Om’s nostrils flared out in quick little sniffs. This place was a cacophony of sounds, sights and smells. It was a little overwhelming, honestly. Oooh! The fox boy grinned wide as he spotted something magnificent at a corner stall.

“One minute!”

It was a small round mirror, neatly polished. Seeing his own reflection, he had to take the opportunity to primp just a little. It was nothing compared to what the sin’dorei had been doing since their arrival many months before, and so the merchant just shrugged the gesture off. “You buy, Vulpera?”

Hearing the offer, another stall merchant called from across the street, “Ey dere rich mon! Ya tink ya look good now, wait til ya get some’a my wares. Come take a look!”

The first merchant didn’t seem to mind the intrusion at all, “Good idea, bruddah. Listen ‘ere shortie, you buy dis mirror full price an my friend dere will give you a deal.”

In the span of fifteen minutes, Omru had traded in a dozen trinkets, knick knacks and old coins. In return he had the silver zandalari mirror, and a full set of horde themed leather armor. Rushing back to his new Vulpera friend’s side, he did a little spin in his new hooded attire, “This is an authentic Horde militia armor, fitted for goblins. It’s a little snug in the buttocks, but the Zandalari back there is a leather worker and made room for my tail. Way better than what I had been carrying around. We should see if they have any enchantments, never know when you’ll need to get revenge on a Drummer girl for kicking you into the ocean, you know? Ha, just kidding.”

It then dawned on Om that the two of them hadn’t even made proper acquaintances yet. “Oh, sorry, the city’s so big and distracting I almost forgot. I’m Omru, by the way. And you?”

Nohko leaned against the carved stone archway that marked the entry to that section of vendors, waiting patiently for the boy to eyeball whatever he was after. Lifting a large claw that dangled from a strap of leather around her neck, one of many such adornments, she used the thing to clean under her fingernails. Suddenly, a loud rather juicy sounding splat on the ground next to her made her jump and dodge away from whatever it was.

“SHIT! FU-“

Her startled cursing halted and a look of confusion set in as she registered what she was looking at. A half rotted fish carcass that had splattered into a sloppy mess on impact next to her. Brows furrowing, she looked up to see where it had fallen from. There, sitting high up on the arch was the huge black bird. It’s head was cocked to the side, one dark eye staring in her direction. Were such a thing common here she would have simply dismissed it. Some feathered sky rat turd who can't keep a handle on their lunch. But birds didn’t come in solid, shiny black like that around here. None she had ever seen anyway. The closest thing were the darker colored vultures back in the sands but most around here were bright blues, reds and greens. So what, was it following her? Attempting to bomb her with rotten fish? What the sands, all she had done was help! She narrowed her eyes at the thing, pondering for the briefest moment reaching for the tiny hand crossbow she kept tied to her pack. Naaa, why save it just to-

“…never know when you’ll need to get revenge on a Drummer girl for kicking you into the ocean, you know? Ha, just kidding.”

The thought was interrupted as she realized the Vulpera boy was back and had apparently been trying to show her his new stuff. She turned her attention back to him and eyed the outfit up and down, offering a smile.

“Heeeey, nice getup. Wait, you didn’t go get that just because I said that other guy looked awesome in it, right? Not that you don’t look good. Better in some ways even, since you didn’t go with the dumb oversized shoulders he had. He was super ripped though so could probably have made an old barrel look good.. Anyway, yeah sorry, Noh, nice to meet you Omru.”

She stuck out a hand to shake. The bright red of her fur darkened into a deep purplish color from wrist to fingertip. Rings decorated just about every finger, some sporting more than one. Some were typical looking while others appeared crafted from miscellaneous things she had apparently liked enough to turn into jewelry. Her wrist was likewise covered in jewelry and trinkets. From solid, etched metal cuffs to tiny hand carved scrimshaw dangling on loose chains or straps to braided.. hair? Was that hair? ..well some kind of braided organic, -hair like- material with bits of glass and such woven in..

“Oh, you -were- just talking about another vulpera in Horde armor, huh? Nah, I got this because that Troll was a good salesman, honestly. I mean, he had me pegged for an explorer and adventurer, someone who risks his life for great treasure. Read me like a book, told me my armor was scuffed and in need of repairs. I had a lot of stuff on me reserved for trading anyways, plus I dig the black and red. Maybe that other guy wasn’t exactly affiliated with the Horde either. Mayhap they just talked him into upgrading his armor like they did me. I’m not a big fan of the skull and bones aesthetics, though. Cultural thing, I’m sure. Proud of their kills, wear it as jewelry or something. I dunno.”

Omru snatched the extended hand, giving it a squeeze and a shake as proper etiquette called for. He himself had a single black ring on his left index finger. It didn’t really have a meaning or purpose, and in fact it blended in with his fur, so it wasn’t very noticeable. Still, he liked it and that was all that mattered. In the little three second handshake, his fingers had felt the rigid bands on Noh’s fingers and the clatter of her wrist ornaments was audible. “Whoa, cool. You gotta lotta jingly jangles, as my Uncle calls them. Where’d ya get’em?”

Continuing through the city, Om looked around from shop to shop. The streets weren’t packed, but the architecture and pathway spacing certainly felt designed for such high foot traffic. In more than a few places there were still crimson smears being scrubbed away by Zandalari trolls dressed in rags. Blood? How long ago had the city been sacked? A few months, right? He wasn’t really one to keep a calendar nor an appointment. Everything he had ever signed up for, he had been late. So why disappoint people when he could just commit himself to being obligation free. Heh. Despite the sparse customers, the shops still lined the streets, merchants seeming to outnumber clientele for the time being.

“Imagine what this place was like before the Alliance attacked it. They said they lost thousands, including the King. Mm. I’ve heard tales of them burning our wagons down for even being friendly with the Horde. Haven’t met any besides a few drunks, but so far they all sound like total scum. I hope the Zandalari wipe them out.”

#WRA RP #wrarp #Warcraft Roleplay #warcraft #vulpera

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pot-of-gluttony · 7 years

Text

To an Extreme or Two

Prompt:

Day 4 - Guns and Roses

Day 5 - Yu-Gi-Universe!

Rating: T

Category: Gen

Chapters: 1

Characters: Aki Izayoi, Yami Yugi (Season 0), Tetsu Ushio

Summary: A Shadow Game between an angry psychic and a vengeful spirit.

Author’s Notes:

More late prompts!

Also on AO3!

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“They’re made of foam,” he explains, face half-contorted into a malicious grin. “Nothing but flat cut-outs made for a harmless game.”

“Why are they shaped like guns?” Aki asks. Her voice sounds foreign, even to herself: hard and emotionless despite the tremendous fear bubbling inside her. Divine had told her wearing the mask made her immune -- and she had already tested its effectiveness a handful of times -- but she still had yet to actually hear herself speak with it on.

“The game involves ‘shooting’ opponents,” he answers. He lifts his hand to her, holds out his index finger and thumb as if he were holding a gun, and aims at her face. “The players pretend to be crime lords who have worked together on heists and split the fortune equally. However, rumor has it that one of them has been playing the others for fools by taking more than their fair share. So the players hold a meeting to weed out the rat.”

“And kill him?”

He tilts his head and lowers his hand. He squints his red glowing eyes as he studies her. “Almost sounds like you already have someone in mind.”

“Him, her, them,” she shrugs. “I’m just putting a face on a blank.”

That’s not entirely true and she worries this other Yugi can tell. She has him in her sights, after all. But right now, they’re simply supposed to be talking about a game. Right now, this is supposed to be a casual, civil discussion -- in spite of her mask, in spite of his glowing eyes, in spite of what happened.

“The premise of the story,” he continues, “is that each crime lord brings a personal treasure that can be corroborated as such by a person of mutual trust within the circle. Accusations and tensions run high, they run loud and they run bloody, until the traitor is finally executed and their treasure is claimed.”

She aims the foam gun at his head. “The rules?”

He nods at a round table in the dim-lit room. Aki approaches it while keeping the fake gun pointed in his direction. On the center of the table lies a stack of cards. She picks the one at the top.

“’No proof for now, but stay on alert,’” she reads out loud. She pulls the gun’s barrel away from him. “So you’re safe then.”

“Actually,” he moves towards the table and picks a card, “that card’s yours. Each player draws a card, looks at it and places it face-down on the table in front of them.”

He does this with his card and she follows suit with her own. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him shift swiftly. She calmly turns to face him and sees that he’s aiming a foam gun cut-out at her.

“And then?”

“Then each player takes turns accusing another of being the culprit. They aim their gun and make their case. Then the accused is given a chance to present a counter-argument in their defense. The rest of the players vote on whether or not they believe the accusation. If most of them do, then the accused’s card is flipped and based on what it reads, the accuser may shoot or withdraw. A player loses if they are shot three times or if their flipped card ends up being a confession. ”

Aki flips her card.

‘NO PROOF FOR NOW, BUT STAY ON ALERT’

The other Yugi lowers his foam gun.

“The card is discarded after being flipped over and the accused draws a new card from the deck.”

Aki draws another card, and holds it to the side of her body without looking at it. She takes aim at him again. “What if the other players aren’t convinced?”

“If most of the players don’t buy into your accusation, you may not shoot the accused. Instead, your turn ends and it becomes another player’s turn to make their case. In the event of there being an equal amount of players that believe the claim versus those that don’t, the accuser and the accused play a quick tie breaker. Can be anything from playing rock-paper-scissors to flipping coins. Whoever wins the tie breaker gets to shoot the other without flipping any cards. In the event of a tie, both get shot.”

“Can’t really trust a traitor to play fair, though,” she says.

“There are penalties,” he says. “Though, they vary with the severity of the cheater’s action.”

She twirls the card in her fingers but doesn’t dare look at it yet. He’s not trying to look at it either; he just stares at her with a thrilled, unflinching look.

“We’re going to need more players than just the two of us,” she says.

“You already know why we’re here, don’t you?” he says. “No need for story premises about thieves between the two of us.”

“I am not a thief.”

“But you are a criminal,” he remarks. “There won’t be more players, but we will have a jury of sorts. That’s something I can provide fairly if you’re willing to accept this invitation.”

“Just so you know, I don’t have time for children’s games,” she goads. “You either make this serious or I walk away.”

“That’s what I hoped to hear. It’s game time.”

It feels as though the room blurs and warps ever so briefly. In that moment, she realizes the room is partially bigger than before. All the windows have vanished along with the door.

More of his tricks, she thinks. Doesn’t matter. His powers don’t compare to this ghastly mark.

They both take a seat at the table across from each other. She finally looks at the card she had drawn; it’s blank. Doesn’t matter. She ignores her hammering heartbeats and steadily places the card face-down in front of her.

A golden box has materialized on the table, right next to him. He pats it twice and holds his hand to it, staring quietly at it.

“Here is my treasured possession,” he speaks lowly. After the brief pause, he motions to her side and smiles lightly, “I see you’ve brought your own as well.”

Aki turns to look and indeed a bloody red box of the same size sits on the table in near proximity to her. A bead of cold sweat rolls down her face. In any other situation, she would want to know what’s inside the box, but not in this one. If she can get through the game without once looking into it, she would be more than satisfied.

“I’ll start,” she declares and once again impresses herself with how detached she’s managed to make herself sound.

She holds up the foam gun at his face and four shadows gather to her left.

“Jury’s here,” he pipes up.

“Doesn’t seem so fair that I have to appeal to a bunch of your friends.”

“They are strangers to me, too,” he explains. “Souls of individuals long passed; very passionate in their convictions, just like you and I.”

“I wouldn’t compare myself to you,” she says. “You're a murderer. You come across people you don’t like and with a snap of your fingers, they’re gone.”

“I don’t kill. My... targets can corroborate that if you actually bothered to find out what became of them,” he says. “They’re not the same as they were and they never will be, yes. But, even lying still in their hospital beds, they’re still breathing, still alive, and may still one day walk out of those rooms.”

One of the hooded figures raises their hand, but the other three remain still.

Fine. She lowers her gun.

“My turn now.” He aims at her and the shadow court moves to hiss left. “You’re responsible for the murder of Tetsu Ushio.”

She chortles, he grimaces. “Just when I think you people can’t sink any lower, you hurl the pettiest lie I’ve ever heard right at my face.”

“I’m not done,” he hisses. “Ushio was never popular with anyone. He had connections and wanted a promotion. He was not above dirty tactics or manipulation, and he certainly wasn’t above tattling. If he got his hands on the right kind of dirt -- say the kind that involves your partner’s shady business practices -- then he would not have hesitated to bring that information to the people you prefer ignorant. For the right price, naturally.”

She mouths every word he speaks underneath her mask and smiles. “For the right price, naturally,” she parrots, and for a microsecond, she swears she sees him flinch. “I could not have murdered Ushio for I never met him before. At most, I had just heard about him. Certain... incriminating things.”

“What incriminating things?”

“That he was nothing but a lowly bully picking on the weak,” she says. “Come to think about it, didn’t little Yugi have an altercation with him once?”

The shadowy figures fidget and light, indistinguishable whispers flit among them.

“He did,” the other Yugi whispers.

None of the shadows raise their hands. He holds his breath and stiffly places his gun on the table. “I end my turn.”

Aki aims at him, the shadows back on her left. “So little Yugi had an altercation with Ushio and he was found dead yesterday morning. Whatever killed him was internal,” she says. “That’s all I had heard. You seem to be fully convinced it was a murder, though. Why? Do you know something? You said you leave your victims lying still in beds. That’s a way of saying they’re comatose,” she can imagine hearing the gun click. “Did you mean to leave him comatose and messed up?”

“I gain nothing from punishing an innocent,” he replies in a low, breathless voice. “It only serves to give the guilty another opportunity to hurt my partner and those around him. I’m not scapegoating you. I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

“You would do anything to protect your partner. I know that much.”

“Do you, now?” He pauses. “Yes. I believe you do.”

Crap. He didn’t need to know that. Pick it back up, pick it back up!

“So you admit it, then,” she claims. “You would do anything to protect Yugi.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll do everything,” he says. “Some remedies are worse than the problem they aim to fix. Placing any blame of my own on you will just motivate you into making a target out of my partner.”

Two hands raise, two don’t -- the jury’s divided.

A clinking sound echoes. Before her card are three coins. One side sports the same eye as his gaudy pendant; the other is blank.

“If I miss by two or three, you get your shot,” he explains. “If I only miss by one, then both of us get the shot.”

“And if you don’t miss any?”

“I get the shot.”

She rests her hand over one of the coins. “Call it.”

“Tails.”

She flips the first one: heads. He shuts his eyes.

She flips the second one: tails. She sucks in air.

She flips the third one: tails.

A single gunshot is heard. She’s clutching her right shoulder and he’s clutching his left. It’s a wild, scorching sensation, but there’s no blood or wound when she removes her hand to inspect the damage.

The other Yugi picks his gun back up. “Don’t worry,” he speaks breathlessly. “I would not start a game where my host body would suffer permanent damage.”

She wants to say something to that, but she can still hear the gunshot ringing in her right ear.

“Dirty trick,” she mutters. She’s not sure if he hears it or not. He may have been too distracted by his own pain or she may have been speaking too low. “Every single one of you. All you ever have are dirty tricks up your sleeves to scare us for not fitting in and then throwing your hands up with self-affirmation when we choose to defend ourselves.”

He’s quiet. She’s certain he’s heard her now, but he doesn’t respond or react beyond a blank stare and his foam gun aimed at her face again. “Aki Izayoi, do you blind yourself from your own sins so that you may hurt indiscriminately?”

She stiffens. “I do.”

“How much do you block? Your victims’ faces? Their voices and names? The full extent of your actions?” he asks. “If asked you to describe what you did to your most recent victim in full detail, can you?”

“I can,” she says. “He” -- she pauses for a single second -- “was in a gang and they were fighting another gang. He grabbed hold of a kid who shouldn’t have been there toting a gun and wearing a jacket with the other gang’s insignia emblazoned on it, but so he was. The guy offered to let him choose how he would hurt him, so I stepped in and commanded him to top. Then he threatened me and I did him in.”

No show of hands from the shadows.

The other Yugi pulls back his cut-out as if to end his turn, but irritation flickers across his eyes and he aims again.

“What did you say to the kid?” Dead silence. “What. Did you say. To the kid?”

“If I see anyone wearing the same jacket as yours again, and they’re causing trouble, I’ll do the same to them. No matter who they are,” she answers.

A dark hand raises within the jury.

“But you yourself said that kid shouldn’t be there,” the other Yugi replies.

“There are always alternatives. He still made this choice.”

Another raises.

“You made a questionable choice, too.”

“He chose to go around, taking what he wanted, destroying what he didn’t and terrorizing people senselessly.”

“And you haven’t?”

A third hand raises.

She has no counter-argument.

He stands from his chair and looks down upon her from behind a gun that is looking more and more real than it should.

She places her hand over her card -- the same blank card she had at the beginning of the game.

“Hypocrite,” he snarls.

Blood boils through her veins and she stops herself short of yelling at him. She flips the card.

‘IT’S MORE COMPLICATED THAN THAT.’

He blinks and withdraws the gun. She draws another blank card and places it face-down before her. Every fiber of her being is burning up and raring to go as she watches him sit back down with absolute confusion. The second he’s settled in his chair, she pulls her gun out and motions her index finger pulling on the non-existent trigger.

Another gunshot.

He’s stunned speechless. An unholy terror creeps into his eyes as he hesitantly turns his head back and sees that yes, there is indeed a smoking gun hole on the wall behind him, precisely on the spot she shot.

“You can make the game real,” he whispers in horror and indignation.

“You want to talk about hypocrisy?” she hisses.

“Izayoi, wait. We need to stop,” he says. “My partner, the other me. He did nothing wrong. I won’t allow him to be harmed.”

“That’s funny,” she says. “My partner is safe and sound, back home, waiting for me to get back safely. Because I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m fighting my own fights and even a few other people’s fights, just to survive. And yet you impede me and accuse me of things I haven’t done, things you very well could have done yourself. We have very similar beliefs -- according to you at least -- yet you act as if you’re allowed to judge me. Then you call me a hypocrite when I try to judge what I do know. But the worst I’ve done is protect my own and the best you’ve done is admit that you’ve exposed yours to the danger you went seeking on your own.”

Four hands raise. His hand shakes as he flips his card.

‘HE HAS ENDANGERED HIS HOST FOR HIS VICE.’

“Izayoi--!”

One more gunshot. This time around a bloody scream escapes him and a flurry of rose petals are scattered all around him: on the table, on his card, on his lap, on the floor behind his chair. He’s clutching his chest and his eyes shoot daggers at her. He removes his hand from his chest, a handful of rose petals spilling out. There’s a hole in his chest, near his -- Yugi’s -- heart. No blood pours out; only more petals.

“It’s not fully real,” she admits. “But it’s still real enough.”

He draws another card, lifts his gun and aims. Or rather, tries to aim. It’s a little difficult to do when you feel like you’re dying where you sit.

“You just shot someone you know is innocent.”

Four hands to her left raise.

“I shot you,” she snaps back. “You wanted this game.”

Three go down.

“Not like this. And,” he swallows hard, “not just because of Yugi or myself, but because of you as well. I keep telling you” -- he takes a deep breath -- “I’m not a killer.”

One goes back up.

“And you think I am?”

“I don’t know what you are,” he admits in-between shaky breaths. “I thought I did, but maybe I was wrong.”

All hands are down.

“You’re a bully,” she spits.

Two hands raise again.

“Maybe we should work together.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that first,” she says. “Not that I would have agreed to it anyway. I’m not here for you. I am here for those who have been abandoned by society.”

“We could work together for Yugi’s sake, then,” he says.

“Are you only saying that so I won’t try to win the game?”

He shakes his head. “Even if I lose, the door of darkness won’t open for those who aren’t guilty. And if I am guilty, it’s me and not Yugi.”

“But I can still end the game with a very real shot,” Aki reminds him.

He swallows. “You’d regret hurting him.”

“Would I?” she taunts.

She realizes she had lost track of the jury. Three in favor at the moment, it seems. Perhaps it would be best if she admits to regret. Because maybe she would regret hurting Yugi; he’s innocent and perhaps the closest thing she has to a friend outside of Divine.

“I want to believe you would,” he says.

It’s shocking that the anger has bled out of him faster than his life. She can’t make any sense of it.

“Maybe I would,” she whispers. “And maybe he could come join me at the Arcadia Movement alongside you. We could help others like him.”

His eyes widen with a flicker of realization.

“He’s using you.”

A chill runs up her spine. “What?”

“Aki, he’s using you,” he says. “Like you said, he’s safe and found back home while you’ve gone missing and he hasn’t made a single effort to come find you. He may very well be expecting you to be taking the fall right now.”

“You’re lying!” Her voice sounds more like her own now, but with all the rage she’s never allowed herself to show.

“Aki, let’s stop the game,” he proposes, dropping his armed hand to his side. “I was wrong. The door of darkness will not open for either of us and the danger from the gunshots--”

“No!” she yells.

“We can stop him together--”

“I will end you and Yugi both if you even breathe in Divine’s vicinity,” she threatens.

Four hands up.

She’s glowering at him, and despite the mask, she knows he can tell. He’s frozen shut. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand back up at her. The other Yugi swallows hard and screws his eyes shut. As if possessed by some otherworldly being, she flips the card and slams it on the table.

‘HER REGRET PALES IN COMPARISON TO HER RAGE.’

He shoots. She chokes back the pain.

More rose petals have scattered all around them. A gaping hole has appeared on her left arm.

She draws another card and aims the gun at him. It doesn’t feel like foam anymore. Strange shadows blur its shape and she swears it feels like the real deal in her hand.

The other Yugi is hunched over the table, looking paler than usual. His breathing is labored. More rose petals than before surround him and cover the table.

“You brought me here to bully me into taking the fall for the murder of Ushio and in the hopes of hurting my partner,” she claims.

Four shadows raise their hands.

“I came to learn what became of Ushio because whoever got to him tried to frame the Mutos,” he answers.

Three lower their hands.

“You brought me here to blame me for it even though I’m innocent.”

“I was wrong,” he says.

Two more for a total of three votes.

“Then it’s over.”

“You want to shoot me, fine,” he chokes out and forces himself to his feet. “But after this, I’m coming back. For you, not after you.”

Aki swears she can see red. Actual, literal, bloody red. She leaps to her feet.

“Just flip the damn card!”

He flips it.

‘NO PROOF FOR NOW, BUT STAY ON ALERT.’

No.

“Aki, don’t.”

But she does.

She takes the shot and the invisible bullet pierces a hole right through his throat, then rounds about and enters through her back and exits through her chest.

They both collapse on the floor, a rain of rose petals gently following their fall.

The table has been flipped over and the boxes lie on the floor. She only heard them fall, though. They’re out of her line of sight and she can’t move. He’s fallen on his back and she on her side.

She can tell he’s unconscious by the haze over his eyes.

She can feel her own vision fading.

#ygo5dsmonth2017 #aki izayoi #yami yugi #yugioh 5d's #yugioh season 0 #yu gi oh #guns and roses #yu gi universe!#pot.glut.fic

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higuchimon · 5 years

Text

[fanfic] Where I Tell You: chapter 7

Dennis is mine. Yuuri examined that thought, more because he hadn’t ever had one like it before. He’d daydreamed for quite some time over having a possession, something or someone that he could toy with in any way that he desired. That was a satisfying concept and one that he saw no reason to turn away from.

But the idea of Dennis also being his in a different way from that sort of possession now prowled its way across his mind and he wasn’t at all certain of what to do with it.

It wasn’t the sort of possessing that came along with chains and bondage and collars. It was the kind of thing that Yuuri suspected he’d seen from other people in Academia. Not very often; it wasn’t really done and those few who forged bonds like that tended to either conceal it from most or brag about it to the heavens. He presumed the latter formed the mindset of ‘this is mine, no one touch it or I will end you’.

That wasn’t such a bad idea when it came to him and Dennis. He wanted to keep Dennis for his wing-tending capabilities, and since there were so few without wings who were as good at it as Dennis was and who were allergic to feathers, he didn’t think anyone else would try to take him. That made Dennis a rare possession and Yuuri enjoyed the idea of owning such a rare possession.

He coasted over the island again, every sort of thought dancing about in his mind. Dennis was his. Dennis was going into enemy territory.

That part he didn’t like too much. He knew Dennis could take care of himself. He’d watched him dueling a few times and Dennis really was good. Not quite as good as he was, of course, but there were so few who were that good, and those who were had very special assignments in this war to be.

He still hadn’t yet seen Dennis doing an XYZ summon, nor had he yet met Dennis’ teacher. He was supposed to do that soon. Having a teacher who’d defected from XYZ made Yuuri a little wary. No, more than a little. There were few people that he’d ever considered trusting and an XYZ traitor wasn’t even close to being on the list. He wanted to meet this ‘Vector’ just to see if there was the slightest chance that he could be deceiving them.

If he is, and I find out about it, I’m going to take him as high as I can go and drop him over open water. And if Vector somehow survived that, Yuuri had several plants that would be happy to devour anything that Yuuri asked them to.

Maybe I should try that first.

That sparked another idea and he circled downward to where Dennis waited for him, seated on one of the benches on top of the building. As soon as he touched down, Dennis got to his feet and came over to check Yuuri’s wings. Yuuri allowed that, but there was something else on his mind.

“Definite much better,” Dennis proclaimed. “Would you like a wing massage tonight?”

Yuuri let the tips of his wings twitch in pleasure. Dennis knew exactly what to say. Or at least what to offer him. But his own idea hadn’t slipped away.

“Yes. But first I’m going to show you something else.” He could not help the smile that flicked across his lips. He’d never shown anyone living what he wanted to show Dennis. “Meet me at my quarters.”

Dennis looked a little surprised, but he said nothing against the order as he headed for the stairs leading down. Yuuri leaped over the side, wings flapping idly to guide him through the air until he reached the greenhouse on the far side of the building.

Dennis hadn’t ever asked about the greenhouse. Most people didn’t. The few who knew it belonged to him didn’t want to know exactly what he grew in there. Those few that Yuuri had shown his treasured garden were the ones who’d never come back out of it.

Yuuri opened all the correct doors and gestured Dennis down the corridor that led to the greenhouse. Dennis stared at the first few plants as he entered, eyes wide and head turning in every direction.

“These are yours?” Dennis murmured, and Yuuri smiled in pride.

“I’ve grown every one of these myself. A few of them I created myself.” Yuuri brushed one hand across a particular treasure of his. To the naked eye it was very simple, something like a slightly larger Venus flytrap. Yuuri looked forward to the day when it would achieve its full size and hoped that it would be as intelligent as he longed for it to be.

At his touch, the flytrap waved long vines, one of them wrapping around his wrist and tugging gently. Yuuri stroked it with the fingers of his other hand.

“I know, you’re hungry,” he cooed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.” He glanced up towards Dennis. “See that refrigerator there?” He indicated it with a tilt of his head. “There’s a roll of meat in there. Get it for me.”

Dennis didn’t quite look as if he were sure about this, but he didn’t argue, going to get the meat. Yuuri petted the flytrap around the head and vines, cooking as the little beauty strained for a passing bug. He would have made certain his lovely creation got the bug, if he didn’t already have dinner waiting for it.

When Dennis brought over the roll of meat, Yuuri carefully started to break off pieces and feed them to his plant. It snapped each piece up quickly, making grateful noises, and Yuuri turned in time to see Dennis staring.

“I didn’t know plants talked,” Dennis said. He looked a mixture of awestruck and terrified. Yuuri thought that the best reaction to his treasure.

“Most plants don’t, at least not in a way humans can hear.” Yuuri stroked the flytrap again, dropping another piece into the eagerly open maw. He wondered if he should tell Dennis exactly where the meat came from.

Maybe not right now. Later, once they knew each other better.

“But this one can.” Dennis didn’t take his eyes off of it. Probably the best idea, even given how small it was now.

“This is one of the ones I designed and grew myself. It doesn’t really talk like you or I do, but it can let me know what it wants. I look forward to it knowing what to call me one day.” Yuuri petted again, unwinding the tendril from him. The flytrap pouted – at least Yuuri thought the way that it curled up its leaves and crossed vines together looked like pouting – and tucked itself down for sleep. “I’ll come visit you later,” he promised. “Here.”

He pulled out the control system for the greenhouse and programmed up one of his favorite soundtracks for his plants to grow to. Each one of them had a sound system set up so they could listen to individualized music and each plant had different preferences. This one rather enjoyed classical music, of all things.

“Now, come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

Yuuri still had over half of the roll of meat left. Almost all of his plants were meat-eaters to one extent or another and he always made sure to have enough to feed them with.

He glanced over his shoulder towards Dennis, frowned, and pushed past him to bring one hand firmly down on the leaf of one large plant trying to get to Dennis. “No!” Yuuri ordered sharply, and the leaf pulled back at his command. His plants learned fast that Yuuri was their lord and master. “Dennis is mine, just like all of you are. You won’t eat him.”

Dennis’s mouth worked for a few seconds, staring from the plant that had somehow crept up on him to Yuuri himself. He swallowed. “Yours?”

That got a grin from Yuuri as he looked back around. “Did you ever think otherwise?”

To Be Continued

Notes: I just had to get Yuuri’s plants and mad scientist botany in there. Ad his possessiveness. And the fact his plants are meat-eaters. Don’t ask what kind of meat. You don’t want to know. Though I’m pretty sure it’s obvious.

Tomorrow is the final chapter.

#fanfic #higuchimon write #ygo arc-v #yuuri (arc v)#dennis macfield #chapters: where i tell you #series: beat of wings #au: wings

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