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plus-size-reader · 4 years ago

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Why

Cato Hadley x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2108 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Reader is a tribute for the Hunger Games, no one thinks she’s going to make it until Cato steps in. The one thing you don’t understand is, Why does he care?

Updated version of “Why Does He Care” an old fan favorite.

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They knew you wouldn’t win.

It hadn’t even registered as a possibility in most of their minds, but that didn’t matter all that much.

All the game makers cared about was that you made a show of it, and if you could, got stabbed in view of one of the thousands of cameras surrounding the arena.

That was all you had to do.

You weren’t the strongest, the fastest, or the smartest that your district had to offer and everyone seemed to have already come to terms with the fact that you would be leaving the arena in a body bag.

They just didn’t see how a woman of your status and stature could ever hope to compete with others in the games. Against the Careers, a group of highly trained young people whose lives revolved around being able to win, you would surely meet your end.

However, you weren’t going to just accept defeat right off the bat.

Even if you didn’t win, you were going to put up one hell of a fight once that canon went off. You owed that to your family, and your district, and yourself.

No one in their right mind wanted to participate in the Hunger Games,and you certainly didn’t want to either, but you had been chosen to represent your district and you weren’t going to shy away from the responsibility.

At the very least, you had to try.

If nothing else, the fact that no one believed in you could serve as an extra push, the push you would need to take down as many other tributes as possible in the process.

You knew that you could do that.

Though, that fire did sort of dull as soon as you walked into the large training room, surrounded by all the other tributes from all the other districts. Once you got a look at them up close, you were less sure of yourself than you had ever been.

How quickly it had all changed.

From the moment you walked into that room, which was more of a cell of brushed aluminum and cool steel, you were forced to recon with the reality of the situation.

This was happening.

You were going to die.

The way in which you would die wasn’t something you were all that fond of considering, but as best you could tell, the Career pack would be to blame.

Stories of what they were capable of, training tirelessly to volunteer for their games and slaughter the competition were widespread all over Panem but you couldn’t have imagined how intimidating they were in real life.

Each one of them was a skilled, and accurate, death machine and you had no chance of surviving an altercation with even the weakest among them, who you had ultimately decided was Glimmer.

She was talented and smart but lacked the determination that the others had.

Even in her case though, you could see what they always said about the Careers. They were raised to believe there was no other point to their lives other than to win the Hunger Games.

If they didn’t win, they weren’t worth anything, not that it would matter. If they didn’t win, they would end up just the same as all the rest of you, in a shallow grave somewhere.

That was just how it was.

You did your best to keep to yourself at first, not wanting to elicit any more violence than absolutely necessary right off the bad. It was no secret to you that the other tributes didn’t take you seriously.

The last thing you wanted was for them to try and prove themselves at your expense before you were out in that arena.

Unfortunately, the other tributes, namely the Careers, had already made up their minds. In the few days that you had been training, they had been making fun of you the entire time.

For them, it was one big joke.

When they looked at you, it was clear that all they saw was the first person they were going to stick their swords into. They didn’t take you seriously at all and at this point, you weren’t even sure if you blamed them.

Each time you threw a punch or swung your axe at a target, they hooted and hollered from their place on the sidelines and called you out for each imperfection they saw in your maneuvers, and they weren’t wrong.

You had no idea what you were doing.

This was all new for you, because where you were from, hand to hand combat just wasn’t something you would have ever come across. Before now, you hadn’t even seen most of the things in front of you here.

You were out of your element.

By the end of the first week, you hadn’t even begun to make any progress. However, there was one thing that had changed and you couldn’t even pinpoint when or why it had happened.

At some point, Cato had stopped criticizing you in the same way his compatriots were.

You weren’t sure why he would even bother, but seeing as you didn’t really talk to him, you couldn’t ask. It was much easier to just be silently grateful for the break, and try to focus on what you were doing.

While it wasn’t looking good to start, you didn’t want to sabotage your chances of survival with any more wasted time.

The other Careers had noticed the change in him too, but not one of them dared to comment on it, even if it didn’t make any sense to them. The anger that they would risk in doing so just wouldn’t be worth getting answers.

Instead, they let him do whatever it was he was doing, waving it off as some kind of tactical maneuver. He knew what he was doing, and it wasn’t their place to ask too many questions and get him off his game.

When Cato first headed in your direction, closing the vast distance between you on the training floor, you assumed that he was intent on proving to you just how out of place you were here.

...But that couldn't have been farther from the truth.

In truth, what Cato was doing was far from a tactical measure. More than anything, he just couldn’t bring himself to make fun of you anymore.

He didn’t think that your weight alone was enough to warrant the constant abuse you were suffering.

Besides, It was clear that you were putting in a lot of work to get better, which was more than most of the other tributes were doing. You weren’t going to take this lying down, which he could respect.

From the looks of it, your technique just needed some polishing, and you would be just as good a fighter as anyone here, with the exception of himself.

“You need to strike higher” he prompted, coming out of nowhere and nearly shocking you out of your fighting stance. You had been so focused that you didn’t even hear him approach.

Still, it didn’t occur to you that he might have been trying to help at first. After all this time, he didn’t strike you as the friendly, just trying to help type. He was much more of the scowl and stab sort of person.

You couldn’t be blamed for feeling that way.

“Strike higher” he repeated, closing the space between you to wrap his arm around your frame, moving your axe in the exact way he had been telling you to do.

There was nothing snide or rude in his tone, but you couldn’t focus on that.

All you could think about were his strong hands on your body, and the clear concern he had for whatever in the world he could have wanted from you.

You tensed under his touch, desperately trying to decipher how you had gotten to this point or what you were supposed to do now that you were here.

There was nothing particularly romantic about his touch, which you understood, but it was still foreign to be on the receiving end of. No one had ever held you like this, under any circumstances.

“Hit here, not here” he muttered, his voice far too close to your ear this time, forcing a breath from your lungs you weren’t aware you’d trapped there. He moved the axe, and your arm attached to it, to demonstrate what he meant.

...And as much as you hated to admit it, he was right.

When he moved his arms, in succession with his words, he hit the target at jugular height, instead of in the trunk where you had been aiming.

It was a much better hit than you had been landing all day, showing how much more experience he had with this than you.

“Thanks” you muttered, glancing at him quickly, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t look at you but you wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Cato looked down just at the same moment as you turned your head to take in his profile.

You expected him to say something about it but he offered nothing, content to just stare back down at you with a slight smirk on his face.

“Somebody bigger than you is going to be able to push back if you aim here” he explained finally, lightly resting the palm of his right hand against your abdomen where you’d been aiming before.

It made sense, of course.

“If you aim at the weakest part, it doesn’t matter how much stronger an opponent is” he hummed, this time bringing that same hand up to where your throat was, not missing the way you gulped under his touch.

“And you can’t kill anyone aiming at their ankles” he laughed, shrugging at that, as if he shouldn’t have to explain that part to you. Even someone who knew nothing about this wasn’t going to be shocked at that.

Cato just didn’t want you to think that he was playing some sort of sick game with you. He was really trying to help, even if that wasn’t really in his nature.

Never in his life had Cato cared about anyone, or been drawn to another person like he was with you.

His entire life was all about winning the games, and there was nothing more than that.

That was all he’d ever cared about.

...But for some reason, making sure that you survived this whole thing was becoming really important to him.

There was just something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on, but whatever it was, he didn’t have all that much time to figure it out. This whole thing was happening, whether he wanted it to or not.

The best thing he could do for you was prepare you to survive, with or without him.

“Oh, I couldn’t kill anyone” you hummed, doing your very best to be as nonchalant about it as you could. You were doing your best to figure out how to protect yourself out there but you had already made you mind up on that front.

You weren’t going to kill anyone.

It was something you had decided on before you even knew your name had been drawn the day of the reaping, but this was new information for Cato.

New information that almost shocked him into silence.

Cato had always known that he would need to kill someone, at some point. It was never a question in his mind, or something that even had any effect on him. It was part of his life, and to hear that someone else had never even considered it was new for him.

If you didn’t kill anyone the entire time you were in the arena, you would die.

You had to know that.

Surely you knew that.

“If you don’t, you’re going to die” he spoke, the words leaving his lips before he even had time to react. There was a finality to it, something you hadn’t seen coming, and at first, you thought it may have been a joke.

The two of you really didn’t know each other all that well, or at all, so making jokes seemed sort of strange but it wasn’t necessarily something that upset you.

You were just shocked at his urgency.

This really was something that was bothering him, but there was one thing that was still bothering you. This was the first time you had ever spoken to him in your life, and as flattered as you were that he cared about what happened to you, it didn’t make any sense.

Why did he care about someone like you?

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sylverstorms · 4 years ago

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Donna x Elena ----From Winter to Spring

This is a commission written for the lovely @saltwatereulogies and I cannot thank you enough for all your support! I hope you enjoy the story :)

She doesn’t know how she escaped that nightmarish inferno. How she still draws breath. Why her body keeps running despite its condition and despite the fact that she has lost everything.

The village is gone. Everyone she knew is either dead or a monster. She watched her own father growl like a beast and cleave a woman in half, then soon after wail out her name and succumb to the flames swallowing up the building. There is nothing left. There is nothing left for her.

Why? Elena wonders. A trail of blood marks her path through the snow, towards the unknown. Why still fight?

It will be easier to surrender to the agonizing burns, to the open gashes and wood splinters stuck in her skin. It will be far, far simpler to stop pressuring her rattling lungs to provide oxygen and fall into the snow, instead. It looks… peaceful. Soft. Pure.

It will welcome her to a quiet death, she thinks, so she may join her friends and her father.

Her father. The man who had never reached his hand out to help her when she fell –either on the fields or when she tripped over hardships— yet had always been there in his own stubborn, strict way, telling her to pick herself up.

“I didn’t raise no quitter.”

Ah, is that why.

Perhaps part of her feels it owes it to him to try. She did miraculously survive the fiery wreckage she’d initially thought would be her grave. But… the odds just aren’t with her.

Elena is only human. She’s lost too much blood, been through too much punishment. Her vision is growing blurrier by the second, her legs more sluggish. When she steps on grass instead of snow, she believes her mind is now playing tricks on her, too.

Something smells sweet, like wildflowers.

That is the last thing Elena is aware of, before she drops to her knees and blacks out.

When she blinks her eyes open, she is… confused.

She never thought heaven nor hell would have a wooden ceiling. She wouldn’t have guessed pain follows one into the afterlife, either, yet there she is, prone and throbbing with every weak breath on a bed too comfortable to be her own.

Unless…

Unless she’s not dead. Unless, against all odds, she survived a second time only to suffer some more. Elena wants to cry. What cruel game is the universe playing with her? The luck she never had in life is suddenly gracing her in extreme bursts now that she doesn’twant it.

“She’s awakeeee!” an overly excited voice exclaims somewhere around the room. Elena is too dizzy to tell.

“Shh.” A second presence makes itself known, calming the first.

“Who…” Who are you, Elena tries to say, but the words never make it past her dry throat.

Heels tap against the floor, until a black-clad figure comes to peer down at her. Elena expected to see the face of her savior, yet all she sees is a ghost, its visage hidden behind a mourning veil. The image is jarring; it sends her heartbeat skyrocketing, which doesn’t help her condition.

Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord what… Elena wants to tell herself she’s dreaming. It isn’t real, none of this is real—

Until a doll jumps into the edge of her bed and says something she doesn’t hear over the sound of her hoarse scream.

The ghost flinches backwards as the world turns dark once more.

The second time she opens her eyes, hours or days later, the pain has subsided somewhat.

Elena can feel her body, at least. All the wounded parts are carefully wrapped in gauzes and all her burns are covered by a soothing salve. Her lungs no longer hiss when she inhales, so long as she does so slowly, evenly.

That, of course, is not so easy to do when she turns to her left and sees the ghost sitting there, an open book in her lap. The veil is still on, obscuring her features, but Elena takes note of her fingers as they cradle the spine of the tome, long and pale, manicured black.

Appearances aside, there is a certain calm about her that doesn’t feel threatening.

“I… I’m not hallucinating, am I?” she whispers, not trusting her voice to go any higher.

The mystery woman tenses as though her voice has startled her. “…No.” she eventually replies. Her voice is quiet, like the rest of her.

“Did… you save me…?” A single nod is all she gets in return. Her company doesn’t seem very comfortable speaking, but Elena has questions that she needs answered. “Where am I?”

“The Beneviento estate.”

Elena would gasp if she could. I made it that far? And this woman… is she really Donna Beneviento? Her father told her all she needed to know about the four Lords residing at the outskirts of the village. He had also told her to avoid them at all costs.

“Um. I’m Elena—” A cough cuts her off. The sudden motion causes every injury across her body to burn.

“…I know.”

She is too much pain, in that moment, to ask how Donna knows.

In the following days, Elena comes to accept a few things that would have normally made her question her sanity;

The doll is alive. Her name is Angie and she is Donna’s friend. Donna is the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, who, upon the former’s request, has given her permission for Elena to remain in the mansion. When she asked what would have happened had she denied, the doll only sing-songed that she doesn’t really want to know.

It still plagues her mind, probably because she has far too much time to think and this is the only thing she can focus on, lest she starts crying over and over again.

When Donna comes to change her bandages, it is a relief.

The woman sits at the edge of her bed, at the absolute maximum distance. Elena slowly brings her body to a semi-reclining position to assist. Angie hops on the bed and pulls the covers to the side… and that is when they arrive to a standstill. Donna doesn’t move, Elena doesn’t know what to do.

“Um. May I?” the veiled woman motions with her –admittedly very elegant— hands. It’s… endearing, how she approaches the subject of touching her.

Elena nods and tries to be a good patient for her. Tries being the key word. When she’s not fighting for her life, she is not nearly as brave in the face of pain. Her teeth are gritted as Donna’s cool hands unwrap the gauzes at her right arm, her eyes closed, breath held.

“…Am I hurting you?” Donna asks, quiet as ever.

“No.” Elena forces herself to exhale. “No, you’re… very gentle.”

Donna nods and continues with the same measured movements. Elena doesn’t want to look at her wounds, afraid of what she’ll find there, so she turns to the veiled visage of her companion. She wishes she could see her face. Wonders what she may look like, what flaw she’s trying to hide.

Until a bandage catches on a particularly bad burn and Elena cries out.

Her whole body jumps—

Donna’s hands fly to her shoulders, keeping her steady with surprising strength, yet she steps away the very next second as though she’s been scorched.

Elena bites her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. There you go, making her uncomfortable…

Angie takes over for a while, also quite precise. Elena peeks down to realize she isn’t in as terrible a condition as she may have imagined. Scars will be left, no doubt, but she will probably heal well enough.

Then the last difficult spot comes up. She knows it when Angie warns: “You need to stay still here.”

“No, no wait!” Elena pleads. “I—I can’t.” I can’t, I can’t deal with this again, not again—

But Donna sits back next to her and her mere presence calms her down. “You are very strong, Elena. This is the last one.” she says.

“Hold me down.” Elena requests.

Donna doesn’t seem to like the idea. Still, she slowly brings her hand back over the uninjured part of Elena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright.” she whispers.

“On three.” Angie says. “One… Two…”

She pulls the bandage on two and Elena would jump high enough to burst through the ceiling if it wasn’t for Donna. When the agony subsidies she realizes she’s sobbing helplessly, clutching at the dollmaker’s sleeves for dear life.

“Shh, I’m sorry, it’s over now. It’s over.” Donna’s slender fingers comb through her unruly hair.

The brunette closes her eyes and lets her head drop back down into her pillow, but she doesn’t let go of the dollmaker right away. She smells like the flowers outside her house,she thinks.

She feels like a safe space, steady, in a world that’s broken and tilted for Elena.

Gradually, Donna talks to her more. Gradually, Elena tests her body’s limits until she is strong enough to walk around the house on her own.

Angie is with her, most of the time, but she knows it’s less a security measure and more one for her safety. Her mental connection to Donna is something Elena cannot grasp nor understand, but she tries to.

The first time she manages to get to the living room, Elena stops and stares at the painting of Donna adorning the wall opposite her.

“…is that her?” she asks Angie.

“Of course!” the doll replies excitedly. “I am so proud of that one, the artist did a great job! Mistress Donna looks splendid, but it is me who steals the show!”

Elena can’t look away from the canvas. Why is she so familiar…? “Is that what she looks like?”

“Well, excluding a scar she wishes to hide. Kind of like my face. We match.” Angie answers, giving her version of a grin.

For the rest of the day, Elena sneaks glances at Donna, then the painting. It isn’t proper, she knows, but she’s curious. And… surely, no scar is enough to justify hiding that cute face from the world?

Weeks pass. Elena has healed well and she owes it all to Donna.

The two of them have grown closer in the time the former’s injuries have forced them together, close enough to have tea in the mornings and brief chats over common interests throughout the day.

When the weather grows a tad warmer, Elena asks the dollmaker to take a stroll with her outside. She sees the decorated graves, of course, but she knows better than to ask. She doesn’t want their time to be poisoned by grief. The scars of losing loved ones run deep, she knows this too well and they never really heal.

The two of them are basking in comfortable silence for a while, until a thought that feels impossible not to be voiced strikes Elena.

“Donna.” she speaks.

“Hm?”

“When I first woke up and I told you my name… you said ‘I know’.”

“…yes.”

“I’m sure we’ve never met before…?” Elena stops and turns to face her companion. Donna mirrors her.

“How certain are you?” she asks. Upon Elena’s obvious confusion, she elaborates; “As a child, I used to visit the village with my father. In one of those visits, some of the kids made fun of my scar. A boy, especially, was saying some very mean things.”

Elena starts to recall one such incident in the blurry images of her childhood.

“You stopped him.” Donna says. Pauses. “…with a punch to the face.”

Elena raises a hand to her mouth, but a quick laugh escapes her anyway. “I did?” A nod. “No way.”

“You did.”

“It couldn’t have been a strong one, though.” Elena giggles.

“I don’t know. Rumor has it he still hasn’t gotten up, to this day…” The little exhale of a chuckle that escapes Donna makes something in Elena bloom and flutter.

She wants nothing more in that moment than to lift the damned veil and see the face of the gentlest, kindest woman she’s ever met.

The winter eventually gives way to spring. The earth heals from the wounds of the cold like Elena has, under Donna’s care.

She no longer has doubts about what she feels, what she wants. It is only a matter of overcoming her fears and nervousness. Only a matter of finding the right timing and the appropriate setting.

Elena has rehearsed the words she needs to say many times in her dreams and thoughts, yet she finds herself tongue-tied and completely lost on what to do in reality. She has asked Donna to walk with her, taken her to where the waterfall calms into a river… and now struggles to summon her voice.

“What is it, Elena?” Donna, ever the sweetheart, asks. “You know you can tell me anything… right?”

“What if…” she hesitantly begins. “What if I can’t tell you? …can I show you, instead?”

“Of course.”

Elena takes a deep breath and chastises herself to woman up. One little step brings her into Donna’s personal space. Her hand raises to the edge of the veil, blue eyes searching for a sign she should stop. The dollmaker is tense, but she hasn’t made a move to back away, nor lower Elena’s hand.

She trusts her.

And that’s all Elena needs to finally, finally remove the barrier separating them for months. The cute girl she defended as a child is a beautiful woman now, looking back at her with gentle, dark eyes. The jagged scar running down the right side of her face does nothing to retract from that beauty.

“You don’t need that.” she breathes. “You never did.”

Donna glances to the side, a hint of color spreading over her pale cheeks. Elena chases her chin with her fingers, then slowly inches closer, making sure the dollmaker has ample time to decide if she wants this, too.

When their lips meet, color blooms behind her shut eyelids, within her chest. Donna’s mouth is as soft and sweet as her personality, Elena discovers. It is a short, chaste kiss but it is also a promise for many more to come.

It is the gratitude Elena will eternally hold for Donna, who found her at the ending of her life and nursed her back to this,

A new beginning.

#Donna x Elena #donna beneviento #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #mother miranda #commission #because two cuties make a recipe for success #donna my beloved

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

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Reading through your wedding post made me so happy, but then I read about Falco's family 😭 Do you think you could write some of your headcannons of you and Reiner watching Falco for a week while his brother goes on a business trip or something. I can only picture by the end of the week that the house is full of the kids because none of them want to go home because Falco misses his brother and hes sad!! 😭😭

I'm so happy you enjoyed it! And that's such a sweet and thoughtful request how could i say no :( my god it sounds like the perfect comfort fic to write and honestly Falco deserves it💛

And the kiddos comforting Falco is a really adorable idea especially since he's the one looking out for everyone and comforting them most of the time, i can only imagine how loved he'd be by them.

Falco spending a week with you and Reiner

{ Reiner x reader | tw:deceased parents tw:neglectful parents | reverse comfort, fluff | modern }

{ "Tales of Enchantment" by Frank O. Salisbury 1874–1962 }

Around 5am, you and Reiner were waiting in the living room, each holding a cup of coffee. In the past days you got a call from Colt, asking if you can take care of Falco for a week, he sounded really apologetic and so you reassured him it's not trouble at all.

Apparently him and Zeke had a work related trip to a far away town, being understaffed in that town and all, the situation was dire and they couldn't refuse without their rating taking a huge hit not to mention morally too. But as a compensation, the company promised a higher pay to make their effort worth it.

You didn't notice the repeated knocking on the door till a couple seconds later, lack of sleep delaying your senses.

Opening it, you were met with an anxious Colt carrying his little brother in his arms, still asleep in his pajamas. Zeke from behind him carrying a couple bags and backpacks, he waved to you with a smile.

As Reiner took Falco in his arms and some of the bags too, you carried his Marvel school backpack and a list Colt made for all the things Falco needed and liked. He seemed to put a lot of effort in it, somethings in it you didn't even know yourself.

While tucking Falco in your bed, Reiner couldn't help but express his worry over Colt working himself to exhausting, both mentally and physically.

Yeah it was only a temporary thing till Colt graduates college and finds a stable good paying job, whilst taking care of his little brother as much as he can. He's been carrying Falco's responsibility on his shoulder since the funeral without a twitch or a complaint.

You think back to all the times you saw Colt, most being for mere minutes when he came to drop off the kids or pick them up just as his classes ended and before his shift at work started, barely having time for himself yet he chose to spend that little remaining free time on Falco and his friends.

You sit next to Reiner on the bed, gently brushing Falco's hair away from his face as he's sound asleep. He always looked up to his brother more than anyone else and would never let anyone talk badly about him.

It's like his own personal superhero.

"Do you think he'll be sad knowing he didn't get to say goodbye before Colt left?" You ask, still looking at Falco.

Reiner thinks for a moment before answering, "probably, but won't show it" he secures the blanket more around Falco, "sometimes I wonder who's more stubborn with showing their emotions, Gabi or Falco."

"I'd say Zofia wins the acting Oscar" you turn the lights off on your way out, "wasn't it for Udo, we wouldn't know how she's feeling half the time."

Around 10am, a very sleepy Falco merges out of the dark bedroom. Making his way to sit between you and Reiner on the couch, while carrying a blanket around him.

He leans into Reiner's hand when he strokes Falco's hair while you secure the blanket around him. Seeming unusual quiet, you and Reiner shared a knowing concerned look.

Offering to make him his favourite food for breakfast got a smiles out of Falco, Reiner even let him choose what shapes he wants his sunny side eggs as.

While he went to cook and prepare food, Falco shyly leans into your lap as if testing the water.

Please assure him it's okay to seek physical comfort from you, wrap your arms around him and he'll be embarrassed at first to ask to sit on your lap but will love it afterwards.

Just don't tell anyone about it okay? It's something his parents used to do when he was little.

When he heard about Gabi coming over today, he seemed to light up. While Udo and Zofia have weekend music lessons they couldn't make it till tomorrow.

While looking away, he asked if you could watch teen titans go with him.

The rest of the day went smoothly after that, Falco was a good kid in general and a really helpful and understanding person. He helped you both with chores and even attempted to cook pancakes.

While it came out burned, don't tell him that! He's really worried so please make him know you loved it and it was super delicious.

You and Reiner even took him to the dogs park nearby, he had pet so many good dogs till he couldn't count, even played fetch with one. After that you got ice cream on the way back.

When Gabi finally arrived, full of energy and enthusiastic about Falco staying over meaning she too will be staying over

All hell broke loose, it's like a switch had been flipped and the well behaved good boy Falco you know was completely weoponised by Gabi as she pulled him into her mischiefs

By himself, Falco is a good kid, well behaved, polite and responsible for his age. But with adding Gabi to the mix? They're a force to be reckon with.

You could see that Reiner was trying his hardest to deny that his closest cousin Gabi, was the bad influence on other kids all along.

You know? The one leading you off a cliff that your moms tells you not to follow? The rebellious kid with very strong opinions and the will to fist fight god? Yeah that one.

Apparently, no one gave Falco the cliff talk yet because he seemed far too eager to follow her to the end of the earth and down that cliff, he'd even jump hand in hand with her just to protect her from the sharp rocks under.

Gabi was actually looking forward to Falco staying over, since either way she'd spend a couple of days with you and Reiner whenever her parents are away or are too busy. She can't handle feeling lonely in the house, it's one of the worst feelings she's ever experienced.

It reached a point that Reiner gave her a copy of the keys, just so she could come in whenever even if you were at work. He too didn't like the idea of her being alone in a house all by herself, yet her parents didn't seem bothered at all.

But now she has a friend to spend the time with!

Falco was finding comfort in the fact that him and Gabi are currently in similar situations, while his was temporarily he felt better knowing he wasn't alone in this.

By the end of the the day, they managed to build a pillow fort in your living room. No one allowed to enter unless they're bearing offerings snacks

Around 10pm, when both of them fall asleep inside the fort. Falco hugging a pillow to his chest while Gabi still had a controller in her hand.

Of course Reiner took some pictures, how could he not? Especially with the way Falco's fingers were tangled with Gabi's as she had cookie crumbs around her mouth.

He also sent it to the groupchat Zeke made, reassuring Colt that Falco is having the time of his life whilst also sharing their adorable cousins with the rest of his friends.

The week went by faster than anyone could notice, good times always fly fast eh?

Each morning you and Reiner would walk Falco to the school bus before watching him sit next to Udo, sending him off with packed lunch and waving as the bus went away.

After school the rest of the kiddos will come with him home, keeping him company and helping him with homework too. They'd make sure to play Videgames right after.

Porco actually took over the duty of taking Zofia and Udo back to their houses, let's just say their mothers didn't like him at all, but reluctantly agreed after Reiner assured them he's a close family friend.

Each day around 6pm, Colt would video call him on his work break, sometimes with Zeke and other times alone. Falco would tell him about his day and Colt would praise him for all the good work he's done, he'd even share stories of his own and remind him to brush his teeth and eat his vegetables.

After each call, Falco will be noticeably more...down. can you blame him? He really misses him brother.

Sit next to him and hug him close please, he really needs it but he can't bring himself to ask for it. Soothe away his worries and don't mention it if his eyes start watering, just pull him against your chest and let him cry his heart out.

On nights he's particularly sad, he'd sneak into your bedroom to sleep between you and Reiner. It's something he used to do back when he was little, he can't help but miss his parents.

It makes him feel safe so make sure to keep a space for him in there always.

Please stroke his hair till he falls asleep like his mother used to do each night, and let him lean against you while watching cartoons like his father did.

You also noticed how...dotting the kiddos are around him during these times.

Gabi is more gentle with him, even willing to play the games he wants instead of hers. She always teams up with him and her words whenever they win make him smile.

Zofia shares her food with him, something so scarce. She gives up her turn on the tv for him and even defends his choice in what to watch if the others complain.

Udo is the one making him space on the school bus and walking with him home too. Helping him with his homework and holding his hand whenever he seemed to get sad.

Udo and Falco are a great emotional support to each other, they're not afraid to speak about their emotions to the other.

And naturally they're the most comforting, with Zofia botteling up her own emotions and Gabi wrestling through it, it's the two of them who work as the group emotional support backbone.

Reiner couldn't stop talking to you about how proud he is of Udo when he saw him comforting Falco these days, you couldn't agree more.

By the end of the week, the three kids were surrounding Falco on the couch as they played Mario karts.

Zofia was threatening to throw hands with whoever threw that blue shell at her making her last place, Gabi was too busy securing her first place spot.

Udo was leaving strategtic traps in his trail while in third place, making Zofia even more frustrated as she fell into every single one.

Falco was racing with Gabi in second place, attempting to push her kart or power through to the finish line.

When the black and white line came into view, Gabi and Falco's karts were separate by mere inches, both of them attempting to outrun the other.

And when Gabi managed to get a hold of the first spot for three seconds, a flying blue shell knocked her away. Making Falco the winner as he crossed the line.

To this day, Gabi doesn't know if which one of Zofia and Udo were the cause of her demise, but oh she will find the traitor and they will pay.

After that intense scene, they all shared a bag of cookies she brought from home! It was animal shaped.

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cherrybyunss · 4 years ago

Text

Ship: Haechan x Reader Word Count: 2k Tags: Smut, Explicit, Oral (M receiving), Masturbation, Dirty Talking

An excerpt from When It Gets Risky: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

_________

Donghyuck and you had been sexting. And seeing the guy at school the next day was, to say the least, a very amusing experience for you.

He was just as great at acting like nothing had happened as you were, and you had expected that. But you could feel him staring at you on multiple occasions, even checking you out at times. And every time your eyes met, you looked away and smiled to yourself. And every time you had to talk to him about something, you would look him right in the eye with the most innocent pair of eyes you could manage. You were sure it drove him crazy.

And you were proved right as soon as it was time for the lunch break.

Lee Donghyuck Meet me in the library. Now.

You smiled at your phone before getting up from your seat and complying.

You dropped him a text when you reached the library, before turning the knob on the door and pushing it open, slowly, trying to figure out if you got the location right for sure.

But before you managed that much, the door got pulled open from the other side. Your eyes widened a little at the sudden force, but the surprised expression soon turned into a smug one when you saw Donghyuck, looking almost mad, and really sexy.

It didn’t last long though, as Donghyuck grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, closing the door behind you, and not even giving you enough time to gasp before slamming you against it, and his lips against yours.

His kissed you with unparalleled, almost painful heat. It almost made you dizzy how wonderful his lips felt against yours. He was really skillful. The boy managed to find perfect harmony even in a moment of sheer desperation.

Your hands went around and met behind his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, if it was even possible. And he had his placed firmly on your waist.

He lightly bit your lower lip and sucked on it, testing your reaction, pleased at the gasp it drew from your lips, which you could deduce from him slightly smirking against your lips before moving closer, deepening the kiss.

You loved the boldness. And boy was he a great kisser.

You wanted more.

Just as he was starting to move down to leave kisses and marks on your neck, you slowly raised one of your thighs a little, attempting to create a slight friction against the growing bulge in his pants and your unclothed skin.

He gasped as he pulled away a little, and grabbed your thighs, letting you bathe in much pride at his reaction. With your bodies undulated in that one moment, you could tell how turned on he was.

He was breathing heavily, lips red, glistening and swollen. But you guessed that made the two of you. You noticed he had pretty lips. A pretty face overall. Perfectly in contrast with the most lustful pair of eyes you’d ever had staring you down.

Ah yes, this was exactly what you’d wanted.

“Such a fucking troublemaker.”

You smiled. “I must be, you look really troubled right now.” You said and reached up to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

He looked at you for a slight instance, and then lifted you up against the door the next, throwing your legs around his waist and resting his hands firmly under your thighs for support.

You gasped and grabbed his shoulders hastily. It’d caught you off guard. It was so hot, it’d rendered you speechless. All you could do was sigh at the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the bare skin of your thighs, never letting the feeling of butterflies in your stomach fade away.

“Now we’re talking.” He smirked, your reaction feeding his ego perfectly well. He leaned in against your ear. “I couldn’t think of anything but fucking you all day today. Do you know how much of a pain in the neck that is?”

You almost shuddered at the feeling of his breath fanning your skin.

He scoffed. “And you had the audacity to act all innocent, makes me wanna fuckin’ ruin you.”

You felt a massive rush of adrenaline through your veins all throughout your body. You’d never been more thrilled in your life. Maybe you did want him to ruin you.

“Now where were we?” He said as he moved your hair out of the way and dived right into your neck again, almost throwing you over the edge.

His lips felt absolutely heavenly against your neck. You were gripping onto his hair for dear life and had been finding it increasingly difficult to stifle your moans with each passing second, when almost as if he’d taken it as a challenge to get you to make a sound, he decided to latch his mouth onto a particularly sensitive spot and suck on it, letting him draw a moan out of you.

You felt his nails dig deep into your skin. “Fuck,” he whispered against your neck. “You even sound hot– Fuck.”

You struggled to form coherent phrases with the painful, ecstatic sensation, combined with the constant attack your neck was under at the time. “Hyuck, I–” Hearing his name made him breathe out against an already vulnerable spot, making your breath hitch. “Fuck!”

You slapped the back of your hand against your mouth to suppress your voice, making his ego soar even higher. Encouraged, he went on to leave a number of hickeys that you were definitely gonna end up having to cover up for at least a couple weeks.

“Hyuck, you’re so good at this– What the fuck!” You managed to say in the midst of the struggle.

He pulled away after one last dragged out kiss, and stared at the red spots he’d left. And then up at you, finally getting to catch your breath. He found you so hot.

You almost collapsed on his shoulder when he did pull away. And felt his breath hitch at the deep breaths fanning his collarbones.

And his reaction piqued your interest yet again.

He pushed you further against the door, grinding his hard, probably painfully hard, bulge against your clothed core. Your body shuddered at the contact yet again. You could see he was desperate for a release.

“Hey,” you leaned in and whispered against his neck, in the middle of leaving a lot of soft little pecks, and a couple of hickeys. “Let me take care of that for you, yeah?”

Donghyuck looked at your every move as he let go of your thighs and helped you back on your feet. He didn’t miss the way you looked up at him through your lashes as you slid down against the door.

You unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers. You could feel him twitch even at the slightest contact. You could only imagine how painful the clothes restraining his length must’ve been.

You slid the trousers and the boxers down in one swift motion causing his member to spring up, tall and proud.

You glanced at him ones, and on finding him looking at you with eyes hooded with lust, wasted no time taking his member in your hand and giving it a few light strokes.

Donghyuck had to almost slam his hand on the door in haste so as to retain his balance. It was all the encouragement you needed.

You licked up his shaft before taking him in your mouth. You initially swirled your tongue around the head, letting him get a good view of how your lips looked wrapped around his length, and hollowed out your cheeks to create the kind of suction you knew drove guys crazy. Then you slowly let the tip of his length hit the back of your throat, and your hand handle the length you couldn’t fit inside, before starting to pump him, putting pressure and sucking repeatedly every time you moved up his shaft.

“Fuck…!” You knew he was having a hard time not fucking your mouth, only managing to because you were good enough without it. His little moans and the hitching of his breath were the hottest sounds you’d heard in forever.

“Mm-hmm?” You asked for affirmation, without taking him out.

He shuddered. You looked up at him with innocent eyes, and he hated how much that riled him up. “Touch yourself.”

It caught you off guard. His voice sounded too authoritative, provided his circumstance at the time. It was hot. And who were you to not comply?

So you did. You dipped your unoccupied hand under your skirt, rubbing your clothed folds lightly. You realized then how bad this whole fiasco had you dripping. And the realization made you squirm.

You made sure not to get too carried away, for you couldn’t lose your rhythm. But even with that much being taken care of, playing with yourself made you feel like you were gonna see the stars anytime then.

As your moans, that were otherwise getting stifled, got louder, the vibrations Donghyuck felt against his length got increasingly harder for him to handle. You could feel him getting close.

“Fuck–” He managed to exclaim in whispers as he threw his head back. And with one last pump, he bucked his hips and came undone inside your mouth.

He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, you were sure you’d end up retaining a videographic memory of the guy in orgasmic bliss. And you didn’t mind at all.

You waited for him to ride out his orgasm before taking him out and standing back up. You’d made sure to swallow everything right up so as to not make a mess. And you realized he must’ve noticed it when his eyes darted down to your lips for a fraction of a second.

He lightly threw his head back one more time and took a deep breath before letting himself fall forward onto your shoulder, one of his hands still resting on the door, and the other having found its way onto your waist.

“That was the best fucking orgasm I’ve had in my entire life.”

You smiled. It wasn’t the first time someone had told you that after you’d sucked them off. “I’m glad.”

He nuzzled your neck, planting a couple of kisses around your collarbones. You loved the way it felt. But stopped him anyways.

“Let’s get out of here for now.”

Donghyuck looked at you puzzled. “What? But– I didn’t make you come yet?”

“Yeah, but we can always do that some other day.” You said, and studied his reaction. “Right?”

His curious expression soon turned into a small smile. He grabbed your waist and leaned in, and whispered against your lips. “We can do that every single day, baby girl.”

You smiled, resting your hands on his chest. “Good, because I’m honestly satisfied enough for now. But that by no means implies that I’ll be done with you anytime soon.” You said in between Donghyuck peppering your skin with kisses. “I need to know if you’re as good as you look like you’d be.” He smirked at the latter remark.

“You didn’t come, yet you’re satisfied?”

“You underestimate how hot you were.”

Donghyuck scoffed at your cockiness. “Well, all I’ll say is, thanks a lot for this, then. You were beyond amazing.” He said and kissed your forehead following a light peck on the lips. You found it really sweet how affectionate he was. “And next time, I promise I’m not letting you go before I make you come at least thrice.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling. “That’s ambitious.”

“Trust me,” he said, planting another kiss right under your ear, “It’ll be the best experience of your life.”

You chuckled. You sure hoped it’d be.

“Let’s get out.” Donghyuck said, letting go of you to get a hold of the doorknob.

You placed your hand firmly on top of his before he could turn it. “Hyuck, uh–”

He breathed out. “Now I’m gonna have a whiplash every time you call me that.”

You facepalmed. “Listen!” You poked his forehead. And he feigned pain, earning a shake of head from you. “Don’t tell the others about this, please? I don’t want things to get awkward.”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Come, let’s go.”

You smiled at the sweet gesture and followed him outside.

"One down, two to go." You remarked to yourself with a small smile.

_________

Read the entire fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

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popopretty · 4 years ago

Text

Storm Bringer Spoiler (7)

I am not sure if anyone has translated it yet but many people asked me about the relationship between Verlaine and Rimbaud so I hope these excerpts from Rimbaud’s memoirs will help. These are from two different parts of CODE;04 of the novel.

Please feel free to re-translate it if you want. Just understand that I do make mistakes because I don’t speak either Japanese or English as my first language. So sometimes I will change or update this translation without prior notices.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Fine weather - Evening - Waning Moon

The mice are running, black in the gray of the evening.

A mouse lady is running, gray in the black of the darkness.

I look at the moon, holding the pipe in my mouth. Doing nothing can be fun too. Let’s go when the fire from the pipe goes out.

After I run, behind the dry sound of my shoes, there will be nothing but death and corpses and blood and aguish and misery.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Rainy day - Midnight - Waning Moon

I am writing this after crawling out of the rat hole. I am staying at a leaky inn. There is the sound of the rain leaking somewhere. The lamp on my bedside is too dark I can’t even see the bottle of wine on my desk clearly. This handwriting definitely looks bad too. But for the time being, it doesn’t matter.

Because I want to write down what happened right away.

Until just two hours ago, I was in the secret cellar of the anti-government forced called “May of the Revolution”. It is all over. The outcomes are superb. In the eyes of the higher-ups.

But for me, I can’t bring myself to think that the operation was a success.

When I stepped in, all the members were at the celler. And ultimately, “he” is dead.

I wrote “he” here because this organization only has one single member.

The mastermind behind the anti-government movement is a skill user commonly known as “Faunus” (*TN: The original Japanese words is 牧神, which means the God of Shepherds. He is called Faunus in Roman mythology and Pan in Greek mythology. I just picked Faunus because I like the name). I fought him once. He was strong. On top of that, he has a secret weapon. He by himself has created a skilled artificial lifeform, the “Black No.12”. That’s a monster that can manipulate gravity at his will and nullify any physical attacks. “Faunus” used an instruction system to freely control that lifeform.

But this time, our Intelligence Department has done an amazing job (how nice it would be if they could do that every time). They managed to figure out in advanced that the input of the instruction system could be done by letting the lifeform breathe in some kind of special metal powder. That’s why all I had to do was to destroy that metal powder generator.

Freed from the instructional system, “Black No.12″ regained his consciousness as though he had just been released from brainwashing and turned to attack his creator, “Faunus”. That was a chilling sight. With just a squeeze of “Black No.12″ ‘s palm, half of the facility was blown away, together with Faunus’ upper body.

After that, I carried the unconscious “Black No.12″ outside. Now he is sleeping in this cheap inn.

What will happen to him now? Will he be executed by the government?

It’s terribly cold. The fire from the fireplace feels so far away.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Bright day - Noon - Strong wind from the East

I am writing this wearing a thick coat, earmuffs, fur gloves and thermal underclothes.

I was talking to the liaison officer in the café earlier, and was told about “Black No. 12″ ‘s treatment. It was so unexpected that I had to ask again three times.

The government seems to consider “Black No. 12″ a valuable collaborator. Because as “Faunus” ‘s watchdog, the information about the anti-government network has been hammered into his head. We will train him, and make him a spy. And it seems that the education and supervision tasks have been left to me.

Education? Me?

Can I really do such a thing?

I don’t have any connections with others because of this job. Because friends and families can become a spy’s weaknesses. Both my parents and my former lover thought that I had died in jail.

Can someone like me teach someone and guide them the way?

I don’t know. But what if I can?

Someone like me, who had thrown away his past and his name to be called by merely a code name, now can do something for someone else, for my country, and for my newly-born friend. The thought of that made me more excited than I could imagine.

My life, and my death probably won’t be passed on to the future generations. What will be given to me after my death will be nothing but a broken, nameless tombstone. But I am okay with that. As long as before I die, I can leave behind something for someone.

My first task is to give “Black No.12″ a new code name.

I have decided it already. Paul Verlaine.

The real name that my parents gave me long ago.

Paul. One day you will read this memoir and know the secret about yourself. I pray that that moment will be a time of blessing for you.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Cloudy sky - Midnight - Can’t see the moon

I can’t believe it. We have successfully deciphered the “Secret of the Gentle Forest”. The worst beast of all is sleeping there. That’s where Verlaine’s

(The page was torn from here, unreadable)

....

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Fine weather - Before dawn - New moon

It’s the day before my infiltration mission into a military base of an enemy country, so I am leaving a slightly longer record today. There will be no support for that mission. No rear backup either. No collaborator from inside.

The target to be captured is a new type of skilled weapon. It takes the shape of a little boy, but is actually a disaster that has the power to destroy the world.

It’s a dangerous mission. I might not make it out alive.

But if there is anyone who can successfully carry out this mission to take the world’s disaster from the hand of the enemy country, it can’t be anyone other than me and my partner, Paul Verlaine.

I have been thinking about it for a long time. About what I can do for my reliable partner Verlaine. I couldn’t come up with an answer until yesterday.

I will celebrate his birthday.

Of course, he doesn’t have an exact birthday. But I considered yesterday his birthday. On the same day four years ago, Verlaine killed Faunus and gained his freedom.

I ordered a small pudding from a confectioner in Paris and headed to Verlaine’s hideout with a bottle of wine under my arm. Verlaine looked more doubtful than surprised. So I explained to him.

Celebrating one’s birthday implies a very simple fact. In other words, it carries the message that “the fact that you were born is worth celebrating”. No matter what anyone says, your birth has a value.

And then there is one thing that can’t be missed when celebrating a birthday. A birthday without it is like the night sky without the moon.

A birthday present.

What I gave him was a black hat.

A brimmed bowler hat. It is neither particularly expensive, nor something made by a famous hatter.

However, the cloth of the sweat-absorbing band that goes around the inside of the hat was made of a very special material.

A rainbow-colored metal made from 10% platinum, 10% titan, and gold as the central material of the rest. It carries “Faunus” ‘s skill. It was the thing that was almost completed in his lab, but I modified it into the shape of a hat.

When you put your head inside, the cloth of the hat will serve as a coil, and prevent the external instruction system from interfering with the mind. On the other hand, the instruction system can be controlled from the inside, or in other words, the will of the one who wears this hat.

If Verlaine has this black hat, he will be one step closer to becoming a “human with free will”.

His reaction was pretty strange. He was neither happy nor surprised. He just said “I will take it for now.” with his calm eyes. He didn’t say anything after that. We drank the wine, said good night to each other then parted.

Even now, after one day has passed, I still don’t know if that was the right thing to do. Verlaine’s eyes were freezing and as far as beyond the North Pole.

But we will know the answer soon.

Tomorrow, at the enemy’s base.

If it is for the sake of my partner, I will gladly conquer any hell.

As long as I have my God in the sky above, the bonds in my heart, and the future in my reach.

(This is the last sentence of the memoir. Nothing was written after this.)

....

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #storm bringer #spoilers #bsd spoilers #paul verlaine #arthur rimbaud

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notgalaxii · 5 years ago

Note

How about... how do the brothers act around their crush?

This one was super sweet to write I- I love them 👉👈. Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy 🤞💕✨

Pride

Lucifers crush is the absolute hardest to tell

To the untrained eyes and ears, it seems like he's just being himself, but to those who are close to him, it's a little obvious

Lucifer tends to be more caring in a loving way than in a strict, "do what I say" manner

It's less of "Go to bed so you can go to school and not disappoint Diavolo" and more of "Get some rest, it's not healthy for you to stay up so late."

He also tends to be a little more expressive near his crush

Lucifer's signature knowing smirk twists up a little higher, and his eyes glimmer with not only pride but a bit of satisfaction and compassion around them.

He makes sure to give them small compliments

Typically his pride wouldn't allow him to endorse others, but with them, oooh boy

He will let them know how they look ravishing in such a nonchalant way; it seems like it's nothing

But to him, it could be everything

Bonus: He stood up to Diavolo once for his crush. Sort of.

Diavolo had given them a list of tasks to do and Lucifer felt like it was a bit much

"My lord, do you really believe that some of these are the best idea?"

It wasn't much but lets just say that Satan and Mammon were near by and their jaws hit the floor.

Greed

A mess. He acts like an absolute MESS around them

When he's just walking down the hall, he's composed. All of a sudden, his crush walks by him and awakens this sense of "I must embarrass myself at all times around this person and then punch myself about it later."

He hypes himself up around his crush

"Hah, of course the GREAT MAMMON can open this jar for you! Bow down, little human. Revel in my strength!!" he struggles to open it a little as well

In more serious and personal moments, Mammon is very sweet

As sweet as he can get when he's still trying to aggressively deny ANY sort of feelings

"Don't ever doubt yourself. You're my human, which means you kick ass. I wouldn't pick a human that WASN'T a total badass. N-not that I particularly picked you out of a crowd- YOU FORCED ME INTO THIS."

Bonus: If Mammon has a touchy crush, he would absolutely melt into their hands as he aggressively blushes at them

They'd get close enough to play with his hair and he'd be jelly on the floor

Would get super sad if they left and forgot their hug because he got used to oh how soft they were

Envy

Leviathan tries the absolute hardest to hide it

Unless you count Mammon but come on, is he really trying?

Leviathan's biggest tell would be that he tries to share his otaku passions with his crush

Because if he likes them, they've gotta be into that kinda stuff, right!? They're definitely not a normie and would absolutely LOVE his Manga collection

Would play it off nearly as tsundere-esque as Mammon

"I've decided that you're really nice to me, so I'm going to let you come over today and play video games with me. I have a super special raid spot saved for the two of us!!"

He tries pretty hard to impress them with his vast knowledge on obscure animes and idols

Levi would be at his crush's beck and call

"I saw you called me, I was in a dungeon but I tried to finish it as fast as I could!! What did you need~?"

Definitely a blush-a-tron 3000

All of his crushes are anime characters! How does he deal with someone he likes IN REAL LIFE!?

I'll tell you how, he sticks his hand over his face and tries to freeze time with his super secret power that he has yet to unlock and probably never will.

Bonus: Leviathan tells Henry 2.0 about his crush every time he spends time with them

"They touched my hand Henry, they touched my hand!!" blushes just thinking about it.

Wrath

Satan is ✨gentle✨ with his crush.

He's pretty insecure about how intense his anger can be when it comes to people he doesn't want to hurt, especially if it's a human.

Satan will try to show them his softest side in hopes that when they meet his wrath, they can anchor onto the fact that he's not that bad

That being saaaaid, if he senses their discomfort whatsoever, he tries to put out the flames of rage that are constantly brewing inside of him

And then offer to take them to somewhere to hopefully make them feel better.

"You seem to be tense. How would you like to join me on a little excursion? We could go see the new art exhibit that just opened up."

If that doesn't work, he invites them to his room to drink tea and maybe just chat

If they're into reading, he'll offer to let them look at his collection and maybe even pick something to borrow.

Satan is also pretty playful with his crush

Sometimes he'll say something a little mean just to get a reaction out of them, then immediately reassure them to the max that he was messing around.

"And I should be seen in public with a human because?"

"Hey-!"

"I was kidding!" He'd chuckle, bringing a mischievous finger to rest on his lips, "I only wanted to see how you'd react. I'd love to go somewhere with you."

Bonus: Satan's best pranks are with his crush.

Satan would definitely catch feelings with someone that challenge his brain and make him think bigger. He'd fall for someone bold, adventurous, and smart.

So combining the two of them makes for some of the most CREATIVE pranks

"So you guys are telling me that you switched the body of Mammon and a random woman on the street and then made a bet with Asmo that he couldn't seduce said woman... who had Mammon in her body."

"Absolutely."

Lust

Asmodeus would make his crush so obvious that everyone just thought he was messing around

He'd shower his crush in praise all the time

"Look at you! So beautiful!"

"Tell me, doll, have I ever let you know that your face is so symmetrical? Oh and your nose is so cute!~"

But oh, he gets f l u s t e r e d by them

If they compliment him back, he'll have a brief moment to blush and try to recover immediately

I feel like Asmodeus isn't as narcissistic as he leads on, like part of it is an act. Honestly, he might even be a little bit insecure about a few things so he buffs up his narcissism to distract from it.

That being said, he probably doesn't buff his narcissism around his crush that often

He puts the focus on them

Tries his best to listen to absolutely everything they have to say

Will make sure that they know he's always going to be there

Bonus: Asmodeus will always dress up his crush when he gets the chance to be absolutely stunning, but then gets really jealous when they go out and people start staring.

"Ah! It seems like they're admiring my work a little too much! I think if these dogs aren't put on leashes anytime soon, I might just have to take you back home. You wouldn't mind some alone time with Asmo, would you?~" The last sentence slips his lips in a very smooth and almost sultry tone.

Gluttony

Beel is so fucking precious please lord save me from this puppy

He would talk a lot around his crush

Boy has so much to say, I'm telling you

He's just never found the person to listen

His crush would be THAT person

The rest of the brothers would watch like "What drugs did this guy take? He usually only opens his mouth to eat something or say he wants to eat something."

Beel would also be VERY protective around his crush. Nobody would say anything to them ever because Beel would be looming over their shoulder like "Say it and I eat you."

Bonus: Everyone talks about Beels s/o being an amazing chef but just imagine him falling for someone who can't cook?

Like even though the food is bad he will sit there and eat absolutely eVERYTHING THEY MAKE

Because hes supportive and just wants to make them smile

Sloth

A weird combination of flirty and shy

Sometimes Belphie will tease his crush a little like Satan would, making comments just to see their reaction

But Belphie would see how long it would take for them to catch it instead of immediately reassuring them

He would crush on someone who doesn't mind his lifestyle of napping a lot, taking things slow, and not really caring so he'd be comfortable with them

Sometimes if his crush was sweet to him he'd get a little blushy and shy

Bonus: Imagine Belphie with an insomniac crush who can't sleep at night and takes random naps during the day

They get really tired cause they couldnt sleep the night before and Belphie asks them to come nap with him

He'll get them a pillow and everything to help them sleep at night

#obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me belphagor #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me headcanons #obey me

627 notes · View notes

writingbeary · 4 years ago

Text

Kingdom - To The World (pt.2)

Minyoung’s Outfit

Note:

Texts placed inside brackets are Kingdom’s show subtitles

Italicized texts are in English

Texts that are block quoted are interview cuts

────────── ♔ ──────────

Hongjoong went to the studio to gets ideas from Pirates of the Caribbean and writing down notes when a knock was heard. Pausing the movie, he stood up and unlocked the door to check who came.

"Joong-oppa! I brought you snacks and coffee. I figured you'd pull another all-nighter to brainstorm and a little sugar might help generate ideas." Minyoung entered with a paper bag full of snacks and a cup of coffee.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be resting by now? I thought you had a schedule tomorrow." Hongjoong frowned knowing how late it is, before taking the snacks thanking the younger girl for them before making himself comfortable on the couch.

"I accidentally left my script at the lockers this morning so I went to get it. I figured I’d drop by the studio and give you something while I'm at it. Don't worry, I'll get some sleep as soon as I get home and the shoot starts at 10 anyway so I'd get plenty of time before I have to leave tomo-.. later" Minyoung smiled plopping down next to Hongjoong

"Just try to get some rest soon. You're busiest among all of us with your drama on top of our promotions and Kingdom." Hongjoong reached out to pat Minyoung's head

"It's nothing I cannot handle! You know me, I can sleep whenever." Minyoung laughed as she look at the screen, recognizing the movie she turned to look at the leader excitedly “You’re watching Pirates? Are we continuing our Introduction Stage concept?”

“I’m not yet sure but our group’s concept is mostly about pirates so we might as well stick with it.” Hongjoong shrugged taking a sip of coffee

“I always trust your decision oppa! Your ideas for songs and concepts have been all brilliant so far that I’ll follow you in whatever you plan on doing.” Minyoung declared making Hongjoong chuckle.

“I appreciate the confidence but I’ll also ask for your inputs once I talk it over with Eden-hyung”

“Mhm. I’m just saying that if you tell me to do perform a stunt, I’ll do it. Or maybe even if you tell me to suddenly sing a ballad version of Fireworks or Pirate King, I’d do it in a heartbeat if you arrange it. You know what I mean?” Minyoung said seriously before laughing with Hongjoong. “I’m pretty sure the other members would tell you that too. That’s how much we trust you as our leader.”

“Got it. Thank you bun.” Hongjoong ruffled her hair smiling. “You should head back and get some rest. I’ll finish up here first before my meeting with Eden-hyung. I’ll see you during our meeting, okay? Did you come with manager-hyung?”

“No. Don’t worry, I’ll just call a cab home. I’ll be fine, I’m already an adult. Geez! If it helps, I’ll send you a message once I’m at the dorms. Fighting oppa!” Minyoung pouted before waving goodbye to Hongjoong “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow!”

[What song did ATEEZ choose for their first round?]

“We just finished our practice and it’s almost 1:00AM” Hongjoong faced the camera as San and Wooyoung fiddle with the vitamins in the box with San being forcefully fed. “It’s good for your body.” Wooyoung chuckled as San looked at him in disbelief.

“We have to win first place after we eat this.” Hongjoong declared laughing

“Okay. First place? We can do it.” San nodded, trying to finish what’s in his mouth despite not liking the taste. “People say what’s good for your body, tastes bad.”

“Do each of these taste different?” Hongjoong asked as he force himself to swallow despite the bitter taste.

“Nope. They all taste the same.” Wooyoung laughed when Hongjoong confessed he might not be able to finish his before going off to get water.

“There is a reason why I made you guys eat this.” Hongjoong said as he took out his tablet showing them the division of the teams made in preparation for Round 1 of Kingdom. “So I need your ideas on what comes to mind when you think about pirates?”

San listed of things that first came into mind like guns, sword, and eye patch. Wooyoung adding in that they need the flags “We already have flags right?”

“But isn’t the ship the most important thing?” San asked as Hongjoong writes down all their ideas on the tablet for the KQ teams to check before their meeting tomorrow.

“Hey. Hey there. Park Seonghwa-ssi. Got any ideas?” Hongjoong called out to the him on the other side of the practice room. The three laughing when they noticed what is happening. Minyoung was clinging unto Seonghwa like a koala while the eldest just lets her do what she wants, patting her back repeatedly as if making her sleep.

Minyoung answered “Treasure! Pirates go sailing for treasure with their treasure map.” her sudden answer making the three in-front of the camera laugh.

“I thought you didn’t want to be in today?” San asked the girl who looked up at him from her position before shaking her head. “I’m comfortable here.”

Seonghwa chuckled before answering Hongjoong’s previous question “Maybe like a compass, a trumpet, or a telescope.”

“You’re saying we should reuse what we used before? I like the idea.”

“Oppa, I don’t think we have the luxury not to use what we have.” Minyoung commented making the members crack up particularly with how she looked when she said it.

“Now that we’re discussing together, we’re getting lots of ideas.” Wooyoung noted as their concept grows clearer as they talk

Hongjoong looked at the growing list of ideas nodding “Yesterday, I watched all of Pirates of the Caribbean in the studio all night.”

“Did you get anything from it?” Wooyoung asked curious what they’ll adopt into their performance.

“I really want fog effects on the stage. You know how the ship appears with the fog? I really want to incorporate that to our performance.” Hongjoong explaining the scene to the members. Everyone agreeing that it’ll look great and cinematic which is perfect for the concept they’re going for.

The next day, the members sat around in their practice room to discuss the details of their performance with everyone. “Since our results for the Introduction Stage was a bit disappointing, we need to get ready for round one.” Hongjoong stated as everyone looked as determined as ever to rank higher this round.

“Since we’re sticking with the concept of being pirates, it’ll be fun if we make it like a movie.” Wooyoung suggested

“Then Hongjoong-hyung will be Joongyi Depp.” Jongho quipped with Hongjoong playing along. “San will be a swordsman. San has to fight.”

“As for Wooyoung..” Hongjoong looked at Wooyoung trying to think of a role when Yunho suddenly said “Chef” making everyone laugh at the unexpected role.

“Oh! That’s true though. We all need to eat and someone has to be the chef.” Minyoung said through her giggles

“So when a war breaks out, he’ll be fighting with frying pans.” Hongjoong chuckled doing fighting motions as if he was holding pans in both his hands while Wooyoung just laughed in disbelief at the idea

“As for Yunho since he’s tall, he’ll be in charge of raising the anchor.” Yunho nodded before firing another remark “Seonghwa-hyung can be the parrot on the Captain’s shoulder!” At this everyone laughed imagining the it.

[Parrot Seonghwa, featuring Hongjoong’s shoulder]

“I’m..I’m not even a human?” Seonghwa asked laughing at the idea

“For Yeosang-hyung since he is smart, he can plan strategies.” Jongho continued on.

“What about me? What am I? Oh! I can be the doctor! I like Chopper!” Minyoung exclaimed making everyone crack up at the random remark.

“Okay that’s enough joking around. We can position ourselves and show something in terms of our gestures.” Hongjoong explained as the others nodded already thinking of what to do for the performance.

“We’re not ordinary pirates. It’s a contest in a way..so in order to look more fancy and grand, I think we need fantasy elements. For example, we can have the Kraken come out.” Yunho suggested

“So based on what we said so far, let’s scatter and talk to the professionals if these can actually come true.” Hongjoong nodded delegating tasks to everyone

[They split into the music team and the choreography team and continue the discussion.]

“The TF team was formed just for Kingdom.” Hongjoong explained to the camera while Minyoung and Jongho nodded. “All the members are scattered right now.”

"The reason we split up is because we cannot waste time. We still have our promotions on top of making preparations for Round 1. So I came here with Minyoung and Jongho to discuss the music" Hongjoong explained to their producer Eden

“Personally, I think of Jongho’s crazy high notes as one of our strengths.” Eden started glancing at Jongho as he explained his idea, then turning to look at Minyoung who looked at him curiously.

"I was thinking along the lines of showcasing our main weapon and the hidden weapon." Hongjoong continued as he tapped both of them on their shoulders

"Right. People already know about Jongho's strength but I think it's about time we unveil ATEEZ's hidden treasure. So I’m wondering if I should add 3 or 4 levels of pitch for the both of you and blast them away with that." Eden suggested with Hongjoong agreeing almost instantly when Eden declared “Nevermind. Let’s just go with four. Since we’re doing it anyway, we should go all out.”

Jongho shifted in his seat knowing there’s no backing out of this plan when Minyoung sat up and said in all seriousness along with a blank face "Ah. It is time for my death. You’re asking me to die” making everyone laugh at her antics.

Minyoung let out a sigh before smiling “Since my leader says so, I have to prepare myself thoroughly and execute it well. I'll do my best, at least enough not to drag Jongho down!"

"You'll do well bun." Hongjoong grinned already planning how to highlight the youngest two’s vocals for the performance.

[What did you mean by hidden treasure?]

"It's actually a bit of a shame for me to say this..but we haven't really had the chance to let Minyoung's vocals shine in our songs. Although, we've made her do the killing part of songs here and there but she is mostly highlighted for the dance. If I were to put it in figures... I guess you could say we were only able to show off 40% of her potential as a vocalist." Hongjoong smiled before continuing "You can definitely look forward to it."

[Are you feeling pressured for Round 1?]

"Of course! This time, I was given a very important role that could really make or break our performance. I'm nervous but I think the excitement overshadows that nervousness. I just want to show off what ATEEZ is capable of and give back to our fans who continues to support us." Minyoung answered with a confident smile

“Let’s not worry about anything else and make a movie out there.” Hongjoong looked at everyone as they gathered in for their group cheer before they head to the stage. All of ATEEZ nodding with a smile before they cheered “9 makes 1 king!”

“Is that a ship?” Chan asked as he moved a bit closer to the monitor as the familiar sound effect was heard.

“Waah. That’s so ATEEZ.” Changbin nodded as the ship interior is shown before the music starts

“I guess their entire stage is set inside the pirate ship.” Q noted to the other members of THE BOYZ.

“Everyone has a story.” Eunkwang leaned in, anticipating the upcoming stage.

“I guess they’re going with the theme of Pirates of the Caribbean for this stage.” Jaeyoon noted finding the feeling of the opening similar to that of the movie.

“I guess he’s the Captain. That so cool! He wore a fur coat!” Bobby noted already absorbed in the performance.

“This is a movie. Totally a movie” Chan commented as the scene played and changed into Hongjoong’s opening rap.

“I asked Minyoung what they planned to do for this stage and all she told me is that I’ll understand when I see it. I can see why she didn’t tell me anything now.” Jisung chuckled as Minyoung’s part played after the opening rap.

“They really prepared a lot for this one. So cool. This arrangement is totally my style.” Eunkwang confessed watching the performance intently.

Everyone was surprised when Wooyoung danced together with the bone-breaking dancers but even more when the Kraken came into the screen. Out of everyone, Bobby was the most excited at seeing the creature. “It’s the Kraken!”

“That’s crazy. How did they come up with this idea?” Jisung exclaimed, letting out an astonished laugh

When Seonghwa sang the chorus, everyone’s mouth was hang wide open and cries of joy were heard from the groups as he fired at the creature killing it. The excitement from that scene has not yet faded when the camera changed and zoomed in on both Jongho and Minyoung on the platform as they sang the bridge as if answering one another. They were also unprepared for when both the youngest members of ATEEZ suddenly pulled off a 4-level high note, leaving most of them speechless.

Minhyuk gasped at how high the notes were while Changsub and Eunkwang clapped in admiration, knowing how hard it is to hit those notes.

“Just how high are they planning to go?” Sangyeon laughed in awe at how the two were able to hit the notes clearly.

Inseong chuckled in disbelief before saying “I can’t believe they’re going all out right now.”

Jisung not expecting the high notes let out a laugh, amazed at both of his friends as he clapped for them. “Wow.. Hold on.” Changbin managed to say shocked at what just happened

Chani laughed astonished particularly towards his friend, exclaiming “Park Minyoung! You’re crazy. From the highnote, now you do this?” when Minyoung took center position during dance booster of the last chorus before passing the focus to Seonghwa for the ending.

After the performance, the groups couldn’t help but compliment the group as they showed off and proven that the title monster performers wasn’t a title without reason.

“They’re awesome” Junhoe stated while Bobby who was still excited with the Kraken and the high note agreed nodding endlessly.

(Comments after the performance)

SF9 Inseong: I was really impressed with Jongho-ssi and Minyoungie. They both hit four high notes. SF9 Jaeyoon: Right. I knew Minyoung-ssi could sing well but I never knew she could do it this well. SF9 Chani: *proud smile* Minyoung pulled a huge surprise attack.

THE BOYZ Juhaknyeon: I was really surprised when they sang the high notes. Really.

THE BOYZ Hyunjae: Me too. I thought it was over, but they hit another high pitch. It’s a lot more difficult since there are two of them who did it. *laughs*

iKON Jinhwan: When their performance airs on TV, this will be a legendary performance for them.

Stray Kids Felix: The moment the Kraken came out.. *sound of awe* Stray Kids Changbin: I’ll go see it in person. *stands up* Stray Kids Chan: Yah.

THE BOYZ Sunwoo: They chose the performance they could do well and show who they are the best and executed to perfection.

BTOB Eunkwang: There were no flaws. Even as another singer, I thought it was really cool.

Stray Kids I.N: When they got off the pirate ship, everyone danced as a group. That was very impressive for me. Stray Kids Han: I loved the Kraken. How did they come up with the idea? Stray Kids Chan: Wahh. Kraken. Really. That’s all I can think about. Stray Kids Han: No wonder Minyoung wouldn’t give me any hints on what they prepared. Seriously.

iKON Bobby: I was so nervous when Kraken showed up. They defeated it. He shot his gun at the end. iKON Jinhwan: You were so happy iKON Bobby: I was so overwhelmed with the grandeur. It was incredible.

ATEEZ finally done with the performance thanked everyone as they made their way backstage. Minyoung hugging Jongho with tears in her eyes saying “We did it. We really did it.”

“You did well.” Jongho returned the hug, patting the girl’s back lightly. He knows how hard Minyoung had to prepare and how high the pressure she felt for this performance. He was really proud of her and glad that they can finally show off her talents through the show.

“This is why people love Kingdom.” Hongjoong grinned at the camera when it focused on him, Seonghwa adding in “It feels liberating.”

“We all had this feeling. After the performance, we had such a good feeling. I was satisfied with that.” Hongjoong explained when asked what he thought of their performance

As soon as the group is back in their waiting room, everyone commented how it felt liberating after they finished the performance.

“When we finished our performance, I felt so proud of ourselves.” Hongjoong confessed as the other members let out a laugh

“Didn’t you choke up?” Seonghwa asked chuckling

“Do you know who cried after the performance?” Wooyoung grinned teasingly and moving his hands to point towards Minyoung who was still a bit teary-eyed.

“Yah. Let her be. She did extremely well.” Yeosang reached out towards his friend patting his arm

“Who says she didn’t? We all did well but you have to admit, Minyoung had a higher hurdle than any of us.” Wooyoung stated defending himself. “I’m proud of everyone but right now, I’m most proud of Minyoung.”

(Phonecall with Chani and Minyoung)

Minyoung: Hello? Chani: Youngie-ah! What’re you doing? Minyoung: I’m at the broadcast station for our album promotions. Why? Chani: Is ATEEZ preparing well for round one? Minyoung: Are you trying to spy on us right now? *laughs* We’re still not done since we have to promote our album well too. Then what about SF9, are you preparing well? Chani: *laughs* yah. We haven’t even started anything. Minyoung: Ahh. That means you’re almost half way done right? What song are you going to do? <Fanfare>? <RPM>? <Now or Never>? Chani: *surprised* Why are you asking- Minyoung: Oh! So It’s one of the songs I said *laughs* so which one is it? Chani: Why did I even bother to call you? *sighs, chuckling* Minyoung: *laughs* Alright alright. Let’s just see each other’s stages during the filming.

[As expected, these two friends know each other so well]

(During SF9′s Stage)

“I talked to Chani last week and he said they didn’t get to practice as much but every time he says that, it always ends up something incredible. I don’t really believe him anymore.” Minyoung told her members as she focused on the monitor.

“That’s also what you told Jisung when he asked, no?” Jongho laughed as the girl shrugged

“It must be <Now or Never> given how they’re describing the song” San concluded

As SF9 started their stage, everyone wondered about what concept they’re going to show for this performance.

“Omo. That was a mirror? Are they going for Snow White?” Minyoung asked outloud making Hongjoong look at her laughing “Why Snow White?”

“I don’t know. They’re wearing red outfits and Snow White has the Witch with the mirror. Don't mind me." Minyoung shook her head realizing how far fetched the theory sounded.

“Oh, I got goosebumps!” Jongho confessed as the song’s overall atmosphere was changed into a darker tone than usual, highlighting SF9’s vocal and acting abilities.

"What is Chanhee doing? Did he suck blood or something? Omo. Are they vampires? Is that what's happening?" Minyoung fired continuously, Wooyoung who was getting distracted by her comments reached out to place a hand over her mouth. "Shh. Let me watch in peace."

"I know I shouldn't say this when their concept is far from it but Dawon-sunbaenim looks adorable." Minyoung commented, trying to stifle her giggle, as Dawon's part came with a mirror on his back. "..it's like he is pouting"

San still focused on the performance pointed to the monitors and said "I have no idea what is happening but this performance screams SF9. It shows off their mature characteristics. It’s all sexy."

“Oh he took his heart.” Hongjoong noted as the music cut off for a second transitioning to a group dance sequence.

“Omo. SF9-sunbaenim. This is really sexy.” Minyoung mumbled with Wooyoung glancing at her, as the opportunity to tease her presented itself again, saying “Are you falling in-love right now?” Minyoung became flustered shaking her head, lightly hitting his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“SF9-sunbaenim really showed off their acting skills. Their expressions were really on point.” Minyoung exclaimed clapping when the performance ended.

“I really got goosebumps throughout their stage. Wow.” Jongho agreed still in awe of how the performance went.

“But really..they know what the fans want. The fans love concepts that exude these charms and well, they have every capability and the confidence to pull off this concept. They’re all so cool.” Minyoung explained her thoughts from before as the other members nodded in agreement that SF9 does fit well with the concept.

“So are mature concepts are your style? Sexy?” Wooyoung continued to tease her while Minyoung blushed but kept quiet knowing that answering him would only fuel his teasing.

While this was happening the members of the Minyoung protection squad, as fans would call Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Jongho, looked at each other with a silent agreement: make sure Minyoung doesn’t get too close with the rest of SF9 if they’re her type. If she’s going to be dating anyone then they have to get through at least the three of them before anything else.

All of the participants gathered inside the studio while waiting for the production staff to tally the results of Round 1 for both the expert’s evaluation and group evaluation. ATEEZ were seated beside iKON, a wish granted for the group as they all wanted to interact and get closer to their senior.

“Later..What time are you going?” Chanwoo asked Seonghwa who was seating beside him.

“We’re probably going to go straight right after this finishes.” Seonghwa answered truthfully, Minyoung who also heard the question looked over, piping in “We still have a schedule around 8 today.”

Jinhwan nodded before asking “How many weeks has it been since the start of your comeback promotions?” at this the whole of ATEEZ had their full focus on iKON, a bit giddy for being able to talk with their idols.

Wooyoung immediately answering “The first week has ended so it’s the second week now.” to which Hongjoong adding in “We came back around the same time as sunbaenims.

“Ah but the choreography for Fireworks is really intense, how did you have the time and energy to do two performances together?” Jinhwan praised them, in awe and curious how they could manage to prepare for the round 1 stage while having to promote with such an intense song. ATEEZ laughed understanding what he meant but offering no comment.

“Were you the one who did the high notes?” Bobby asked Jongho beside him the latter nodding “Ah yes. I did it with Minyoung” motioning to the girl who bowed to the rapper. Bobby was smiling looking over the two vocalists when Jinhwan explained “Bobby said he became a fan.”

“Ah. Thank you.” Minyoung surprised to hear the revelation bowed in thanks.

“Yeah really. Those high notes were just out of this world, more than the Kraken. For real..you’ll be first this time.” Bobby smiled as ATEEZ thanked them for the compliment.

Yunho taking in the opportunity to talk with iKON confessed that during their trainee period, everyone watched iKON’s performances and practiced their stages a lot. “That’s true. When we were trainees, during our monthly evaluations, everyone here did at least one iKON song for the test. We all did <Apology> and <Rhythm Ta> together.”

“That must have been tough.” Junhoe chuckled, thanking ATEEZ for liking their songs.

“How long has it been since your debut?” Bobby asked curiously

“We debuted in 2018.” Wooyoung answered

“Ah it has been a while. But it’s tough, isn’t it?” Bobby recalled his own experiences when they first debuted while ATEEZ just laughs awkwardly as they cannot deny that it does get tough. “When do you rest then?”

“When the promotion ends..” Jongho started trailing off, Hongjoong finishing the sentence for the maknae “When promotion ends, we get our breaks then.”

The continued to talk regarding promotions when Bobby suddenly asked them where their dorms are with Wooyoung readily describing the place making Bobby in particular excited as it is also near his residence. San invited him to visit the company sometime while Bobby agreed that he’ll drop by when he can.

“If there’s some time, it would be great to get a meal together.” DK suggested as all of ATEEZ agreed, excited at the idea.

“I’ll get your number sunbaenim.” Wooyoung shyly said making the rest of iKON chuckle and agree saying they should get each other’s contact number before they leave the studio today.

“I already have Minyoung’s number though?” Chanwoo confessed making his group members look at him in disbelief. “Yah. You didn’t tell us that though?” while ATEEZ looked at Minyoung who suddenly felt shy with all the attention she’s getting from both her members and iKON.

“We met through SF9′s Chani.” Chanwoo added in as the girl nodded.

“Ah but..we haven’t really talked after exchanging numbers.” Minyoung confessed shyly, wanting to hide herself or use Seonghwa as a shield. This information made both groups laugh, iKON acknowledging Chanwoo as a true insider for having celebrity friends outside of their company.

“That’s true. Sorry, let’s grab a meal together with Chani.” Chanwoo chuckled an apology.

“Now we’re going to announce the results of Round 1 that you’re so curious about.” the MCs started while all the groups waited with bated breath. The atmosphere in the studio suddenly becoming tense as no one knew what criteria the experts used for their scores or who the experts were. They also didn’t know how the other groups voted. There were a lot of unknown factor in the show made it harder for the groups to anticipate the ranking for the round, particularly so since this is only 50% of their overall score.

Minyoung suddenly feeling nervous, held unto Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s hands, trying to get some comfort. She felt as if she’ll faint the longer it takes to announce the results.

“Today’s first-place team will be given the authority to select the bracket for round two.” MC Changmin announced as all the groups gasp and commented that points aside, it’s a huge advantage to be able to do decide the bracket.

“I’m curious who the experts are.” Seonghwa wondered

As the MCs announced that all of the expert evaluation scores will be announce all at the same time, Minyoung closed her eyes tight mumbling “I cannot take this. Can you just tell me what the results are? I cannot watch. I’m too scared.”

“I’ll look for you.” Wooyoung patted the girls’ hand, giving it a light squeeze.

[What’s the result of the expert evaluation scores?]

As all of the members gasp, Minyoung who had her eyes closed asked scared “What is it?”

“Minyoung-ah, you can look.” Wooyoung let out a relieved sigh as ATEEZ placed first for the expert’s evaluation scores. At this, Minyoung peeked and immediately hugged the male in her joy. “I’m..reading it correctly right? We’re currently in first?” she asked as if in disbelief

“I’m actually relieved and glad that the things we wanted to do were actually conveyed properly.” Yunho confessed during the group interview.

As the results for the group evaluation were announced, Minyoung immediately hid behind Wooyoung scared that the rankings would change drastically.

[What will be the results of the teams’ evaluation?]

“ATEEZ you’re currently in first place. You wouldn’t want to step down. Do you think the others rooted for you?” the MC asked the group everyone nudged Jongho to answer for the team

“The eight of us finished our performance today without any regrets. Well...I’m not sure.” Jongho let out a laugh nervously as there really was no way to know how the other teams voted. Kingdom is still, after all, a competition. Everyone could have voted strategically to secure the points.

The MCs continued on with the show and as soon as the results were all announced, ATEEZ finally felt like they were able to breathe. They kept the number 1 spot even as the group evaluations were added in. Minyoung bit her lip trying not to cry as she felt the pressure lift off a bit. Seonghwa noticing it, rubbed circles on her back smiling at her. Minyoung turned to him and placed her head against his arm as she took deep breathes to calm herself down.

When asked how she felt during their interview “It just..It feels like our efforts were seen not only by the experts but also by the senior groups. We felt disappointed during the Introduction Stages so we steeled ourselves to do better and rise up the ranks but to actually be rewarded with the top spot just made me feel overwhelmed. It’s like hearing everyone say ‘good job today’ after a long day of hard work.”

“The past two weeks were really hard on us. All of the members has many moments when we were exhausted both physically and emotionally. One thing I can say confidently now that the results came out is that it was really hard, but we did our best. I think I can say that now.” Hongjoong concluded nodding

“We did well. ATEEZ is so lovely.” San adding in making the rest of the members smile, even Minyoung who was trying to fan her eyes with Jongho patting her back in comfort.

“Since we won first place, let’s take this energy and work hard to prepare for a great and fun performance.” Hongjoong declared before they did their team cheer “9 makes 1 team. Let’s do it!”

────────── ♔ ──────────

ATEEZ Minyoung Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

I seriously wanted to cry when I had to rewrite this because the site ate my drafted one. I don’t think I was able to capture the initial feeling anymore and it definitely got a whole lot shorter after rewriting but I tried to at least..make it a bit decent. Again, I have already drafted posts up to the Reborn stage but Kingdom “episodes” would be slowly posted to avoid spoilers for the people who haven’t watched it yet.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy reading this!

-Mimi

#kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez 9th member #ateez au #ateez oc #kpop oc #kpop au #ateez minyoung #park minyoung #minyoung masterlist #writing beary

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heavenunderthemoon · 5 years ago

Text

Growing Pains- Spencer Reid {Chapter 1}

This is a sequel to the prologue, I recommend checking that out!

QUANTICO

OCTOBER 2011

The coffee shop was bustling with activity, despite it being nearly six in the morning. Early risers and morning commuters in the like seemed to mob the small shop, the poor baristas doling drinks out at an impossible speed.

It was a chilly morning,Spencer's jacket collar itched at his neck and he made a grab for it in irritation, swatting the hairs that he had been meaning to cut out of the way as he did so. His curls were beginning to look a bit unruly, the case load preventing him from focusing on anything other than catching serial killers. Though, to be fair, he hardly ever focused too much on his appearance, his socks were a testament to that. The different patterns poked out of his cuffed slacks and he forced himself to look back at the board, scanning the menu even if he knew what he wanted.

Pumpkin drawn in chalk stared back at him until it was his turn to order and the baristas barely looked at him before punching in his black coffee. He didn't need any additive, at least, not from them. no, his main source of fuel was on the other side of the room, the sugar cart winking back at him. Spencer stepped back, letting the people behind him up to the counter as he waited for his freshly brewed coffee, his mind still a bit muggy without caffeination.

The lack of caffeination is what he would blame it on later that day. A mere delusion from sleep deprivation, or maybe he had even been dreaming still, falling asleep right where he stood and imagining the whole thing. He would chalk it up to any reason, any reason at all, because he couldn't have possibly heard your name.

"Y/N!" The barista called out.

The Reid's head snapped up, following the figure grabbing the coffee and his eyes trailed your back. No, that couldn't possibly be you. It couldn't be you, because, well, the last time he'd seen you was when you were both fourteen. Children, wishing upon stars and making pinky promises. The last time he had heard from you was when he was still in college, your voices tossed back in forth between the staticky phone booth's reception, and even then you both knew that your friendship was fizzling out.

He remembered quite clearly what you looked like too. Your hair had reached your back and still shoved into that dirty baseball cap that you never quite took off. That was the girl he remembered.

The back he followed left out the for and his foot twitched, as if to follow, but, had it really been you? It hadn't, Spencer reassured. It couldn't have been you. Just because they had called your name- a name he supposed other people could have, of course- didn't mean it was you. In fact, he hadn't even gotten a good look at your face. And, yes, while the hair color may have been the same, he was probably just overthinking it.

Right, that's what it was. He was overthinking it.

He always overthought things. In fact, he notoriously over thought things. He was absolutely mad if he actually thought that he saw his childhood best friend in a coffee shop, exactly 2,406.9 miles away from the last location he had seen her.

"Spencer." The barista called with a smile, extending the styrofoam cup, steam billowing from the small opening at the top. His name was written across the side in block letters, and his hand covered the lettering as he grabbed it, nodding as a thank you before retiring to the sugar station.

Y/N L/N.

Your name danced across his mind, flashes of your childhood playing almost against his will and he soon found himself lost in a memory, his feet taking him to work as he did.

NEVADA 1991

"Ow! Spencer, you keep stepping on my toes." Nine year old you complained, breaking apart from the boy's hold and sending him an exasperated look.

Your overalls hung loosely on your body, a hand-me-down from your brothers that didn't quite fit you yet. Your father had done his best to stitch it, but the man couldn't sew to save his life. Differently colored threads poked out in seemingly random places, and Spencer found himself staring at them from time to time.

The boy's cheeks tinted pink, his eyebrows furrowing as he stepped away, shutting off the music and going back to his book that sat propped upon the table. That morning, the two children had turned on your father's TV set. Diana didn't particularly let the boy watch it at home. On her bad days, she said the TV was a ploy from the government, destined to rot his brain and turn him against her. On her good days, she said it wasn't mentally stimulating enough, Not as mentally stimulating as a book, ushering him off with another literature classic if he requested watching something before bed. You, on the other hand, weren't given as many restrictions. besides, your father worked during the day which left you and your brothers with free rein of the house, and, with it being summertime, your brothers were both away at football camp.

A music video depicting a teenage couple had been the first channel you had landed on and, their sweet, slow dance had made you both curious about the logistics. Spencer, of course, had taken a more theoretical approach to learning the concept. Grabbing a rather large book about dance and movement from the nineteenth century, the boy had spent the better part of the day with his nose embedded in the pages, his hands flailing about every so often, as if trying it out before going back to reading. You, on the other hand, had taken to attempting the dance with the kitchen broom as Spencer read. It couldn't be that hard, could it? Besides, you couldn't really know how to do it without actually doing it. Well, that was your opinion, anyways.

After a while, you both glanced at each other from across the room, you watched the idea click onto both of your faces, both of your cheeks reddening at the thought.

"Merely experimental." Spencer had said, his voice an octave higher than it usually was.

Your cheeks still hadn't calmed, and you had fixed him with a glare, swearing him to secrecy before agreeing. You knew Spencer wouldn't ever tell, not just because he didn't particularly have anyone to tell, but because you knew the prospect of slow-dancing with his best friend embarrassed him just as much as it did you. But, he still nodded.

And that was how you had found yourself getting your toes stepped on, the music shut off as Spencer re-read his book.

"You can't learn this by reading, Spence, c'mon." Your hand tugged at his, pulling him away from the book as he huffed. Your other hand slapped the music back on, an Elvis album that was your dad's. He didn't really own anything else, and it was either that or Barry Manilow.

The boy's face was cross, as if frustrated at the concept of something not being capable of being taught from literature. Nonetheless, he followed your slow, awkward steps, focusing all his energy on not stepping on your toes. Slowly, but surely, the two of you seemed to get the hang of it, even being able to move around the room as you danced and you laughed wildly when you spun, just as the girl had done in the movies.

Spencer watched with a smile. His best friend, his only friend, but to him, the best. Because he was certain that you would be the best of the best for the rest of his life as you soon around, one hand still latched onto his own.

QUANTICO 2011

His tongue ached as the hot liquid ran across it.

Spencer hardly ever waited long enough to drink his coffee, the liquid scalding his mouth due to his impatience. It was small price to pay for the sweet relief caffeine gave him, the way his mind sharpened and allowed his body to catch up with his brain.

"How many cups have you had this morning, Spence?"

JJ's voice cut across the bullpen. It was one of those rare paperwork days, much to the disdain of Rossi. The man absolutely loathed paperwork, claiming that he would never stoop to such degrading tasks (though the team saw him helping out on reports when he thought they weren't looking). The blonde had previously been stopped at Emily's desk, the two chatting about their weekend plans, tones filled with hope that they might actually be able too fulfill them rather than being forced to cancel due to a case.

"Not enough, apparently. Pretty boy's been spacing out for the last hour. Actually, I think I got more done than he did." Derek teased, his eyebrows raising as he dipped his head toward the stack of forgotten papers near Spencer's outbox.

The Reid man scoffed, setting down his now empty cup. He had grown quite accustomed to the Morgan's teasing, and it never bothered him anyways. But, Spencer hated to admit that the man was correct- perhaps miracles do happen. Spencer was distracted. His mind seemed to abandon him, running off to Nevada, slow dancing with you in your childhood home's basement. Your laugh as you spun echoed in his mind and the sound of his name being called once more made him glance up.

"Spencer?" Derek fixed the man with a concerned look, his paperwork left forgotten. JJ's smile faded, Emily raising a brow as well. Rossi had gone off with Hotch somewhere, Penelope in her bat cave, but the group's effect still had Spencer trying to ice any remnants of you off his face, plastering on a small smile.

"Hmm?" He hummed in response.

JJ's eyes narrowed, scanning his face with concern. "Are you feeling okay today? You've been really quiet and...spacey." The blonde settled on the word, and Spencer did his best to assuage her. The pen in his hand twirled, his head nodding.

"I'm fine. I just thought I saw-"

The small creak of the glass doors opening caught the man's attention once more and now, three cups of coffee to back up his acclamations, Spencer was sure that he wasn't;t hallucinating now. No, not this time.

You, you, but twenty years older. You, with a neatly placed outfit, his mind flashing between the jeans you wore and the overalls he had once seen you in. You were there, in the BAU, fifty feet away, it was you. Sure, you were older, you didn't have your head shaved into a baseball cap, or dirtied sneakers on your feet, but it was you.

"Y/N?" His voice came out a whisper.

This is a part two to the prologue! I recommend checking that out!

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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thepetulantpen · 4 years ago

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Two Librarians in Armageddon

(Day 5 of @shadowgastweek! Only had time for one fic this week, but after I read this prompt my brain said Pacific Rim AU and would not leave me alone until I wrote this. It’s pretty long, so here’s the ao3 link.)

(Pacific Rim AU, featuring the wizards as scientists!)

Caleb would not say he’s fond of working with others, let alone sharing his lab.

Solitary work is more in his nature, but after years of sharing close-quarters with Veth- and after getting adjusted to Jester, in general- he’s learned to tolerate, even enjoy, having company while he’s working. His friends have more than prepared him for anyone else he’ll have to work with; they’ve ensured that he’ll be hanging onto his habits of keeping anything important secured, in the event of an unexpected explosion, and of guarding his coffee with his life, in the event of poorly-timed pranks.

He does not think his new lab partner will be bringing any unstable explosives, or sugary abominations to replace his coffee with.

From what he’s been told, the new addition to their little pre-apocalypse team is a physicist working on tech for a competing company, someone far outside Caleb’s scope. The fact that they still have competing companies of mech-developers while there are aliens bursting from the sea to eat them is a nightmare all its own, but the writhing horrors of capitalism are a beast that science, and the Kaiju guts strewn across the table before him, has proved ineffective against.

The truce between them, in the interest of allowing powerful Jaegers to work together, is an uneasy and temporary one. Caleb, personally, doesn’t think it’ll last beyond one or two failures. He just hopes they won’t fall back into the slew of sabotages that plagued them at the beginning of their downward spiral, before everyone realized the world may actually be ending.

The rather small detail of imminent Armageddon has made his preference, or lack thereof, for company inconsequential. In the long run- or short, if they don’t manage a major breakthrough soon- his opinions as an introvert are insignificant.

It’s not all bad- as an innately curious person, the opportunity to meet someone just as experienced as him in the field of Kaiju is fascinating. Particularly considering that their specialization is so different; he’s almost looking forward to the new insight. He’d even be excited if it wasn’t for the subject matter.

It can be challenging to be enthusiastic about the driving force of the apocalypse.

He digs deeper into the partially collapsed chunk of Kaiju ribcage in front of him, no longer bothered by his poor choice of distraction. It’s a misnomer to call it a ribcage, given that the Kaiju do not have bones in the classical sense, but it’s close enough in location to approximate. He’d rather have a brain to work with, though he’ll settle for what he can get. Storing Kaiju is difficult, with their accelerated rate of rot once exposed to the air- if he’s not careful, his work could be reduced to ash in an hour.

He needs to catalogue the differences between this corpse and the last, pinpointing patterns in organ placement. The work is dull, while still requiring his full concentration to avoid puncturing any of the many, many inexplicably acidic organs. If he wasn’t already good friends with the base’s medics, he would’ve been taken off this job long ago.

Once he’s elbow-deep in a Kaiju, he stops paying attention to the door. He does not notice the knocking, nor the quiet greeting, nor the faint whir of machinery as his new colleague hovers through the doorway.

“Should you be touching that? It looks toxic.”

Caleb jumps at the voice beside him and the scalpel in his hand jerks, cutting into the mystery organ he’d been considering removing. Something vaguely liquid hits his wrist above the glove and he waits two seconds to see if it’ll burn, before deciding he probably doesn’t need to run screaming to the nearest med station.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, partially in response and partially to himself. “I know what I’m doing.”

He looks down, towards his new colleague, who, at first glance, is thoroughly unimpressed at that lie.

He sits in a wheelchair- minus the wheels, as it hovers gently off the ground, coming to about the same height the wheels would give it. Clearly a new model- hovering technology aside- it’s a sleek, minimalist white, matching his equally sleek, swept back white hair. The high turtleneck and overly formal coat allow Caleb to immediately peg him as somewhat uptight. Near-apocalypse has made formality rare.

Caleb hurries to wash his hands, finding the nearby sink labelled for nasty, potentially lethal chemical disposal. “I was told you’d arrive today, but,” he glances up at the dingy lab clock, the glass cracked from Veth’s last visit, “I didn’t imagine it’d be so soon. It’s, uh, a bit of a mess.”

“I’ve seen worse,” he says, unconvincingly, and changes track, “That desk is mine, yes?”

There’s only one other desk in the room, moved there sometime yesterday after Caleb, under threat from his superiors, managed to shift away some of the boxes that line the walls. It’s only a small space, but it’s the cleanest part of the room.

The question, he reasons, is rhetorical, but Caleb nods anyway. He considers that answer enough- though the other man doesn’t move, staring at him expectantly. He’s oddly expressive, his attempts to keep a completely straight face only making any slipups, like the annoyed twitch of his eyebrow, more obvious.

It makes it easy to see the exact moment his patience runs out.

“I’m sure you were informed, but,” here, he looks to the side, dodging Caleb’s returning attention, “for the sake of introductions, I am Essek Thelyss.”

Ah, so that’s what he’d forgotten. Caleb thinks it’s unfair that he had to fail miserably at one of the last introductions he will have made before the end of the world- surely, he could’ve had just one go smoothly.

“Oh- I’m Caleb,” he reaches out a hand, meeting Essek’s already extended one for a brief shake- his hands may be clean now, but Essek doesn’t look thrilled at the prospect of touching Kaiju guts, even indirectly, “Caleb Widogast.”

Something unidentifiable passes over Essek’s expression- disappointment or judgement, perhaps, at not recognizing the name. Widogast is not printed on any books, nor is it associated with anything high-profile like Thelyss; strictly, it doesn’t exist at all.

That, or the smell of the rotting Kaiju getting to him.

As he watches Essek pause halfway across the room to clear his path, and again to widen the space around his desk, Caleb is hit with the vivid realization that this isn’t going to be an enlightening, academic experience, nor an uncomfortable few days of socialization. It’s going to be more than a bump in the alien-fueled crisis that is his current existence.

This is going to be a disaster.

…

“Widogast, do you have any idea where my notebook’s gone?”

It has only taken Caleb three days to be able to identify the various tones for annoyed in Essek’s voice. There’s this is a minor inconvenience and this is a major inconvenience and this is one of many annoying things I haven’t pointed out yet today, including, but not limited to, the ever-present stench of Kaiju flesh.

He can say, with relative confidence, that this falls into the latest category.

“Have you tried all your desk drawers?” he calls over his shoulder, knowing the question is unnecessary but stalling for time as he heaves the last of the Kaiju parts- partially burned and fragmented limbs, today- onto his work table.

Essek, unlike Caleb, is meticulously organized, never misplaces anything and files according to system that escapes Caleb, no matter how many times he tries to decode it. From Essek’s perspective, the rest of the lab is a dangerous no man’s land of abject chaos- though Caleb has never lost anything. He knows, precisely, where everything is, no piece of preserved alien fading from his memory. An organization system is pointless, when one has a photographic memory.

That is, until one has to share a lab with someone who bothers to keep track of their belongings.

He doesn’t wait for a response, already able to picture Essek behind him, sitting with his arms crossed and looking deeply disappointed by Caleb’s suggestion, which amounts to did you turn it on and off again? Leaving the still sealed Kaiju parts where they are, he turns back to his own desk.

After exonerating himself and Essek, the list of suspects for meddling with their desks is very short. The base, these days, is not the hub of activity it used to be, back when there were far more Jaeger pilots alive and far better morale. Their lab is typically empty, aside from Caleb and Essek, as few people are inclined towards the smell of dead Kaiju. Even the corporals, some of the rare higher-ups with clearance, can’t be bothered to visit more frequently than their mandatory check-ins.

He can only think of two people who clearance would not be an issue for.

“Is he handsome, Caleb?”

“I don’t think it would be professional—”

“He definitely is, Jessie.”

Before today, he’d thought that Jester and Veth hadn’t gotten around to the visit they’d been threatening; clearly, they’d taken the liberty while he wasn’t in. Veth knows better than to steal notebooks- she wouldn’t be interested in them, anyway- and Jester isn’t in the habit of taking things, only misplacing them.

Caleb hardly ever uses his own desk, preferring to leave his notebooks scattered over the lab tables, in easier reach. Only the older ones are still perched on his desk, in a precariously tall pile- but one notebook stands out from the rest, not quite as ratty and overstuffed as his own.

“Ah, here it is,” he holds it up, gesturing Essek over and trying not to look too sheepish- it is not, after all, his fault. As he hands it over, and quickly turns back to his work, he can only hope that Jester hasn’t doodled anything too embarrassing inside. “Jester must have misplaced it, while exploring the lab.”

“Jester?” Essek asks, eyebrows furrowing in something that would be irritation, if his expression wasn’t trained to be so stoic, “Is she supposed to have clearance here?”

“The medical staff have free reign, in case of incidents with hazardous material.” He glances back at Essek, who still looks confused, and remembers that not everyone is on a first-name basis with the medics. “Jester Lavorre. You might know Caduceus- that is, Mr. Clay- better. He’s the more… healing inclined, of the two.”

“Jester Lavorre,” Essek starts, slowly as he unpacks his own question, “regularly comes here to… explore? What, she just, rifles through your things?”

He is not sure how to explain the idea of Jester to someone who doesn’t know her.

Essek already looks delightfully confounded- a considerable a departure from his typical stern concentration. Caleb almost wants to thank Jester for pulling Essek away from the handheld chalkboards he spends his days bent over, lines of nearly indecipherable equations appearing and disappearing with only the smudge of chalk on Essek’s hands as evidence of their existence. Distracting Essek has proved to be a challenge- even the sounds of saws and the number of other unpleasant devices involved in Kaiju dissection don’t get Caleb so much as a glance.

He does not try to explain Jester, opting to shrug, instead. “She knows she can find me here, so she stays until I show up. Sometimes she gets bored.” It occurs to him that other people haven’t been prepped for company in the same way he has. It occurs to him that it is abnormal to brace for a scavenger hunt every time he enters the lab. “I suggest you leave your important documents in a locked drawer.”

He refrains from telling Essek that Veth can pick locks and that Jester has broken open desk drawers before (there was an incident involving a prank war, smuggling, and increasingly desperate hiding places). None of it seems particularly reassuring.

Essek gives him a strange look, but nods. “I will keep that in mind.”

“You might also find things that aren’t yours by your desk.” Caleb looks over his shoulder to see Essek still watching him. “Consider them gifts.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Caleb pauses, realizing that none of the things he was about to list are work-appropriate, “Well, it could be anything.”

Caleb’s starting to worry that he might end up causing the rift between companies that leads to the end of the world- with his terrible first impression, and equally bad secondary impressions- but when a parasol shows up at Essek’s desk a day later, he does not ask Caleb where it came from.

He does, however, quietly ask Caleb to send along his thanks to Jester.

…

“I am not imagining that it smells particularly bad today, yes?”

Caleb has acquired, in part thanks to Veth, partial halves of two Kaiju hearts. Partial is the best they could manage, on account of the massive holes blown in the beasts’ chests. Nonetheless, he’s ecstatic- an opportunity like this, for a direct comparison, is rare.

Kaiju barbecue, as it turns out, does not smell very appetizing. It is what he would think a bucket of cleaning supplies set on fire would smell like, though it leaves the air with the unpleasant aftertaste of cheap fruit snacks.

“They’re a little charred,” he says, hiding a smile- they are far more than a little charred, “Veth’s testing out different chemical combinations for the Jaeger ammunition. I don’t think she’s quite nailed it yet.”

Essek scoffs, cautiously approaching the table with one hand over his nose and mouth, the other resting on the chair’s controls. “How many people of wildly different departments are you on a first-name basis with?”

“Just a few.” Thoroughly distracted with cutting away the burnt pieces, Caleb doesn’t look up. “There’s also, uh, Fjord. He captains one of the boats, works on deployment.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” A soft whir, as Essek hovers a few inches higher, putting him at a better height to peer over the table with Caleb. “Do you need any help?”

Caleb blinks, surprised, and almost drops the scalpel he was sanitizing. “Aren’t you busy?”

Essek, with his old-fashioned chalkboards in the place of far more convenient holograms, never leaves his desk, never so much as turns around to bounce a theory off of Caleb. It seems like there’s a new pack of chalk and fresh notebook on his desk every other day- clearly he’s making progress, but the bubble of focus around Essek is too intimidating for Caleb to investigate.

“I’ve reached a stopping point,” Essek frowns when Caleb looks at him, waiting for him to elaborate, and sighs, “I’m stuck on the particle displacement we’ve detected at the mouth of the rifts, which only seems to effect the Kaiju, not the pilots. It’s- I don’t think you’d be interested. I need something else to do, while I brainstorm.”

Caleb manages to bite back his disappointment at not getting to hear the rest and points towards the sink- the one safe for normal use, that doesn’t currently have corrosion scars from caustic acids. “I can definitely give you that.”

Essek, unsurprisingly, is incredibly helpful. He might not fully understand the process, but he’s precise in following Caleb’s instructions and doesn’t complain when he has to touch the gross, slimy parts. He generously interprets Caleb’s just put them over there to mean place them very carefully in straight lines. It only takes him a few minutes to get the hang of it, effortlessly following Caleb’s lead as they work in parallel on their respective halves of the hearts.

“I can’t say I understand the appeal,” Essek starts, after many minutes of silence, “but there’s certainly something to working with the actual thing, rather than theory.”

Caleb is working at a particularly tough piece- the Kaiju are, if nothing else, heavily armored, inside and out- the exposure to oxygen making everything harder to pull apart, to cut up and catalogue. He doesn’t look up at Essek’s words, but finds his attention easily split.

“It’s all about,” Caleb pushes down, again, and the muscles finally give, “manipulating the body, finding what makes it tick. From there, we can change it.”

“Like,” Essek pauses, hesitating, “change it from living to dead, you mean.”

Caleb huffs, almost under his breath, “In this circumstance, perhaps.”

To his side, he sees Essek’s hands still, briefly, and feels eyes on him as Essek looks up. Essek has this way of looking at him, like he’s waiting for something, until an invisible tell gives him away. He feels both studied and seen through.

Caleb can’t say he hates it.

“You don’t sound as happy about that as I’d expect. Normally, people are thrilled at the thought of dead Kaiju,” Essek gestures, with one gloved hand, over the table, “More for you.”

Caleb looks firmly down at the heart, imagining the many cross-sections and pieces still unmapped, in the burned away absence. “I just think that more can be done.”

“I suppose that’s one thing we can agree on.” Essek is already looking at him when Caleb looks up, so their eyes meet, “The other side of the rifts are far more interesting. There’s no telling what we could find, how we could progress- but we need those doors closed, if we’re going to be alive to enjoy that progress.”

“I don’t think it’s as simple as leaving them open or closed.”

Essek leans back over the heart, having found what he was looking for in Caleb’s expression, and mutters, almost to himself, “You might be right about that.”

Caleb doesn’t say anything else, just watches as Essek finishes with his portion of the heart. Essek’s hands, even with the borrowed plastic gloves, do not look like they belong amongst the controlled carnage of the lab table. Made for spinning chalk between fingers, and gliding across the holograms.

He lines up the scalpel again, just a bit off-target, just a bit too close to the arteries. “Ah, don’t—”

Caleb grabs Essek’s hand, stopping him before he pierces something he shouldn’t- the faint burns on his own hands are proof of this lesson learned. Essek freezes, startled by the contact, and grips the scalpel a little tighter before he catches up to what’s happened and pulls back.

Caleb lets him go, with some reluctance. “The blood is, uh, acidic. You have to cut around carefully, or it– you get the picture.”

“It’s good that you were watching, then,” Essek doesn’t smile, but his face suggests that he might have, if he possessed less self-control, “I owe you one, Widogast.”

Caleb does not possess that same control- he’s not sure what Essek hears in his voice as he says, “It’s no trouble.”

He thinks, in the end, he may have been more successful in distracting himself from his work, than he was in distracting Essek.

…

Caleb has reached the point where the crick in his neck from leaning over his work, the pages and pages of pieced together neural pathways and conflicting experiments, is threatening to make the hunch of his shoulders permanent. Essek cannot be in a much better place- Caleb glances over to catch him with his head in his hands, again, a half-filled chalkboard laying forlornly on his desk.

Caleb stands with no warning, letting his pen clatter on the table and pushing his chair away with more force than necessary. Essek looks up, alarmed and- unless Caleb’s imagining it- intrigued.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Which is how they’ve found themselves on the steel catwalk above the Jaegers, high up in the hanger and out of sight of people who know they shouldn’t be here. Neither of them are stealthy enough to pull this off for long- the equivalent of two librarians, tiny amongst the massive machines that represent their only hope against Armageddon.

“It’s always weird to see them from up here.” The giant, unpiloted mechs seem to stare back at Caleb as they’re shifted into place. Empty eyes, visors with no life behind them. “Feels like we shouldn’t be looking at them eye-to-eye.”

Essek hums, and leans forward slightly, as close to the rails as he dares. “I’m more used to seeing them in diagrams.”

Caleb had known, in theory, that there must be a tangled web of physics behind the engineering of the Jaegers, but it’s different to know that Essek holds those secrets. He’d love nothing more than to pick his brain about it, even if it’s far outside his field. It’s a shame the hanger feels like an inappropriate place to host a high-detail physics lecture.

“It must be interesting, working with us. Thelyss has been, uh,” he hesitates, unsure if this is rude to point out, “forgive me for saying, rather at odds with Dwendalian interests.”

Essek is quiet for a moment, almost long enough for Caleb to pull the ripcord and apologize, before responding, “It has been interesting. It is… an opportunity, for me, to work for something greater than I have in the past.”

“In the past?”

“We have not been as,” he pauses, searching for the word, “kind as we should have, in sharing our designs. Many have failed to consider the state of the world in our quest for progress.”

Corporate sabotage in the race for mechs is something of a well-known secret. The extent of it is hidden, mostly, behind the veil of the destruction that it coincided with. Trading the right secrets to the wrong person could take you far- it just might mean leaving burning cities in your wake.

Essek, overlooking the last of the Jaegers, the vestiges of hope for the world, suddenly looks so tired, older than Caleb had seen him before now. It reminds of Caleb of his own reflection, at night when the manic layer of end of the world is wiped away to reveal exhaustion. Essek’s formality, the organized face he presents, functions as just another mask.

“I have made many mistakes. I am hoping-” Essek shakes his head, correcting himself, “All I can do is try again. To be better.”

Caleb cannot absolve him, cannot lift the weight of things unsaid, guilt anchored deeply. He can only stand there, at Essek’s side, and carry his own guilt.

“Leave it to the end of the world to show us that we can only move forward, until we run out of road.” Caleb tries for a smile, one Essek doesn’t match. “Sometimes, I’m not sure there’s still road. Feel like I’m drifting over the dirt, these days.”

Essek’s response, agreement or disagreement, is drowned out as they start shifting another of the Jaegers, the dragging of metal and old supports strained to their limits forming a din that has passerby covering their ears. Caleb watches its pilots stare up at it, unflinching in the noise.

He finds himself talking as the noise stops, filling the vacuum of silence, “I was almost one of them, you know.”

After he says it, he immediately regrets it. In one moment, it feels like the thing to do- share something personal, after Essek had taken the first step- and in the next, it feels like an entirely unnecessary can of worms. Because, of course, the next question is-

“Under who?”

Caleb swallows and considers lying. He could do it. He could keep it vague- he should, it should stay buried like his name. He’s not entirely sure why he doesn’t want to.

“Ikithon.”

He sees it, the second he says it. He sees the recognition, the surprise, the fear. Essek knows that name, more than anyone in passing knows that name. To Essek, he is not simply an unpleasant teacher.

He doesn’t want to see Essek as someone who worked with Ikithon- he doesn’t want to know what it means that he would forgive Essek, in a heartbeat, but can’t do same for himself.

“I wasn’t able to drift,” Caleb continues, and almost believes that’s the whole truth, the entire, uncomplicated reason, “Dropped out of the Academy.” Not before the damage was done.

Essek looks down, studying the grimy floor beneath them. “Probably for the best.”

“I’m starting to think we should’ve put our funding into time machines, instead of Jaegers.” Caleb sighs, and feels a part of himself leave with his breath. He looks to his side, where Essek remains silent. “Should’ve gone into physics, I guess.”

People rush around below them, preparing for another Jaeger to enter. The gate is cleared, the runway lights up, and various maintenance teams stand at the ready. Caleb wonders how they can stand this, how they can keep going through the motions every day, even as less and less pilots return.

He supposes he could say the same about himself, about anyone still coming to work on this base. For the first time in a long time, they’re all working towards the same thing. They’re all looking to the pilots, spending what’s left of their lives to stack the deck in their favor.

“I know a few of them,” Caleb pauses, and clarifies, “The pilots, I mean.”

“You failed to mention that, in your list of people you know.” Essek tries to laugh, though it doesn’t quite come out right, and looks back up at Caleb, “Which ones?”

“I’m not sure you know them.” People in their position don’t generally interact with the pilots, directly. Caleb would say it’s strange for him to have friends in the Academy, but it’s not the weirdest connection he’s made recently. “Yasha and Beau on the Cobalt line. They’re only just out of the Academy.”

Only just out and making a formidable reputation for themselves. He’s only skimmed the statistics, but if there was a leaderboard, he’d say they’re pulling ahead. Knowing Beau, that’s greater motivation than the potential for saving the world.

Essek’s façade falls away completely, showing his surprise. “The two terrifying women in the Expositor?”

“Those are the ones,” Caleb leans against the railing, out of the shadows. A little more bold, now that most of the people below are distracted. A massive Jaeger, with chipping blue paint and massive jets affixed to its back, steps in through the gate, tracking in water around its heels. “Speak of the devil.”

He can imagine Beau and Yasha working in tandem, seamlessly, to bring the mech into the hanger, ducking its head slightly to make it under the doorway. One hand is occupied, clenched around a scaly leg, metal fingers dug into the fallen Kaiju’s flesh. It’s oddly small, not the fully grown beasts Caleb is used to seeing them drag through.

“Is that-“ Essek doesn’t finish his question, perhaps because he can see the answer in Caleb’s expression.

The Kaiju’s head is entirely intact, its skull spared at the expense of a hole in its chest. A full brain, no shrapnel or missing pieces. Exactly what Caleb has been waiting for, exactly what he’s been trying to piece together.

Essek follows at his heels as Caleb dashes for the stairs, stealth forgotten altogether.

…

The whirring of saws and grim, grinding sounds of bone being cut come to an end, at long last. There’s a tube prepped, filled with foul-smelling chemicals intended to preserve and suspend alien flesh. The sound, as the brain is deposited, is somehow worse than the grinding noise.

Essek looks at him, watching silently for a long moment. It is difficult, to feel his eyes on him and not look back, but Caleb manages it, keeping his gaze focused on the mass of nerves before him.

“I understand the temptation.”

Caleb laughs, with no humor. “Do you?”

The headset is light, almost flimsy, in his hands. He passes it between them, running his hands over the familiar metal and wires. It looks like it might fall apart any second now, not at all like it’s made of expensive, stolen equipment. Not all like Caleb’s been thinking about it for months, like it could save them all- if he can pull this off.

The Kaiju’s brain floats in the container in front of him, wires trailing off of it. Essek sits beside it, the filtered green light through the tube casting harsh shadows over his face. He’s not supposed to be here, but Caleb should’ve known that Essek wouldn’t stick to his scheduled breaks.

“I know more about temptation than you, Caleb.”

It’s rare to hear Essek angry- figures that he chooses a time like this to finally call Caleb by his first name.

“Then you should know that I can’t pass up this opportunity.” Caleb clicks the final pieces into place, watching the lights on the headset start to glow. He loses the fight against another temptation and glances over to Essek, who looks to be fighting fiercely not for a neutral expression, but to keep back tears. “I will not have more lives on my conscience. If this could win us the fight, I have to do it.”

He reaches for the control panel, lifting the headset with his other hand. He has to get this over with before he loses his nerve, before Essek decides to find someone who might actually be able to stop him, before Jester or Veth or anyone else stumble upon him

Essek grabs his wrist, stopping him. His eyes are wide, a little surprised at himself, but he meets Caleb’s stare dead-on.

“I don’t want to lose you to this,” he clears his throat, and looks down, away, “We all still need you.”

Even now, they can’t help but lie to themselves.

“I have to do this.”

Essek looks back at him and for once, seems frustrated to be unable to peer behind Caleb’s eyes, to get the answers he always does. He looks to the side with a heavy sigh, and Caleb thinks for a moment that he’s given up, that he’s going to agree, when Essek lets go of his hand to reach behind them, to the lab table still covered in wires and abandoned tech.

Many drafts of the headset sit amongst the wreckage, the results of late nights spent working with a collection born of Veth’s sticky fingers and Caleb’s hoarding. Essek grabs one, easily picking out the most functional of the bunch, and presses it into Caleb’s free hand.

“Fine,” his face sets, not in the neutral that Caleb’s come to expect, but in a determination that feels almost dangerous, “Then I’m coming with you.”

Essek’s eyes are a dare, waiting for Caleb to find a reason to deny him. He knows, as well as Caleb, that two of them would increase their chances of surviving this. He also knows, maybe better than Caleb, that none of that matters. Caleb would always rather take the brunt of it, than allow his friends to hurt.

This feels, distinctly, like an argument Caleb can’t win. Essek looks a few seconds away from hooking it up himself.

Caleb sighs, a faint smile escaping him. “Didn’t think you’d be repaying that favor so soon.”

Essek only pushes the headset more firmly into his hands, though it’s hard to tell whether he’s safe-guarding against Caleb losing his nerve, or losing his own nerve.

Caleb puts Essek’s headset on first, taking longer than necessary to adjust its fit, before putting on his own. They sit across from each other, in the distorted shadow of the brain. Essek’s gaze, fixed on Caleb, doesn’t waver and just before Caleb hits the switch, he holds out his hand.

Caleb takes it and turns on the machine.

The drift hits him immediately, like a weight falling on his brain as something too big climbs into his skull and pushes his mind out to the edges, pressed against bone. Everything else, outside of his mind and Essek’s mind and this new intrusion, disappears entirely. Sensation, apart from a terrible, sourceless pain, leaves him.

Essek’s mind bursts into focus like a searing light in the abyss, a star far above him. Caleb reaches for it, as the mind of the Kaiju, oppressive and all-consuming, threatens to swallow him up.

He feels their connection like entwined hands, before they collapse into each other, blurring into one. Warm and cool colors mix together in threads that wind and wind around until they are one inseparable string. Shared pain is conducted through it, a wire of strange electricity.

He is hearing a city on fire, screaming, and imagines he can pick out familiar voices in the chaos.

He is shaking a hand like a corpse, bony and terrible as its fingernails dig into his skin.

He is on a cold tile floor, aware that he is alone, alone, alone—

Somewhere, outside of himself, he squeezes Essek’s hand.

The Kaiju bears down on both of them and he finds himself standing beside Essek on a destroyed city street, its features a mashed together version of Caleb and Essek’s childhoods. It is too much for either of them, even standing together, but when he looks down at Essek, he sees only his smile, sharp and confident.

Everything begins to dissolve as the mind- the many minds- of the Kaiju falls over them.

…

Waking up is not fun.

Once, in grad school, Caleb stayed up for 52 hours, subsisting on diabolical combinations of energy drinks and pure spite for his professors. After turning in his last assignments, including a paper that served as a major breakthrough in his field but was so manic it was incomprehensible to anyone except Caleb, he crashed hard and did not wake for another day, when Veth checked to see if he was still alive.

He could’ve sworn, at the time, that the headache he felt upon seeing light for the first time that day was the worst he’d ever experience.

This headache easily doubles it.

The lights are, mercifully, left completely off, with only the dim sunlight leaking out from under the blinds turning the infirmary room a dull grey. He’s sat, partially upright, on the thin mattress of the hospital bed, a place he knows well. Outside the room, he can just make out the quiet, constant noise of their busy med station, conversation and machines overlapping.

To his right, similarly propped up, is Essek.

He wakes at the same moment as Caleb and they both turn, surprise mirrored in their faces. At seeing each other, at being alive at all- it’s anybody’s guess.

Objectively, Caleb is sure they both look absolutely terrible, but he can only see the light in Essek’s eyes and his tired smile. There’s a drowsy kind of comfort between the two of them, relief of tension being let go. They lived- they both lived.

“This is not the warm welcome to the land of the living I was hoping for.”

Caleb laughs, even if it hurts, a little. “This feels less like a welcome party, and more like breaking a window and climbing back in.”

There’s no connection between them anymore, no wires or drifts, but he still feels it faintly, a buzzing at the back of his head. Essek’s pain feels like an echo of his own, and his warmth is still there, as if he’s still holding his hand. It’s stable, an anchor to new wakefulness.

“They should’ve known better than to put two of us in the same lab.” Essek shakes his head, and winces at the movement. “It could only ever have ended in disaster.”

Caleb grins and is pleased to see Essek do the same, just as unguarded as he was in the drift.

They only have a few minutes before Jester comes in to yell at him for being stupid- possibly, the whole crew is lined up somewhere outside, lists of grievances in hand. Shortly following that, he assumes there will be a small battalion of military personnel waiting to hear what they’ve discovered.

Until then, he has time to do more stupid things, mostly unsupervised.

He drags himself out of the bed, pretending that he doesn’t nearly collapse as soon as his feet hit the floor, and wheels the bed closer to Essek’s, carefully maneuvering the wires still attached to his chest and arms. Once they’re an arm’s length away, Caleb stops and climbs back in.

This time, he holds his hand out first and knows, without a doubt, that Essek will take it.

#shadowgast week 2021 #caleb widogast #essek #shadowgast #critical role #ahhh this so long #do not have time to edit tonight #but i swear itll be up on ao3 tomorrow #ignore the many times i misspelled physics #im very tired

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flowerslut · 5 years ago

Text

Waiting Game

Words: 2657 Rated: T+ for canon-compliant mentions of suicide Summary: The story fell out in pieces, leaving Jasper and Emmett to sort through them to form the narrative on their own. Bella wasn’t dead; a fact Alice neglected to let anyone else in on. Alice was flying somewhere; it was unlikely that it would be back there, to Denali. Edward wasn’t coming home; it was assumed that Alice was heading wherever he was. Bella wasn’t dead, and Edward didn’t know it.

(New Moon gap-filler.)

A/N: Originally written for a Twilight charity fan-zine.

I humbly ask that if you read this story, please take a minute out of your day to go to MTHG.org and read about the Quileute tribe's Move to Higher Ground initiative. As a fandom it's important to acknowledge the true harm that has been inflicted upon this indigenous community and to educate ourselves accordingly. If you're able to, please consider donating to their cause. If you’re unable to make a monetary contribution, please share their cause in any way that you can; whether it's on social media, texting it to your friends, or bringing it up to family members. It's important to bring awareness to their situation now, before tragedy strikes and a natural disaster causes harm to this small, vulnerable community.

Today's story is part of a two-part fundraising initiative I've taken to Tumblr. Tomorrow I'll be posting an original song that will be available for download upon proof of donation to the Quileute tribe (any amount counts; even $1 is a great help.)

I’d also like to take this moment to request and encourage any Twilight content creators out there to take a moment this week/month/year to post one work dedicated to raising awareness and funds for the Quileute tribe. It was a beautiful thing to see everyone banding together last summer with the release of Midnight Sun, donating en masse, raising awareness, and encouraging education. I’d like to keep that momentum going through 2021, as well. 💗

(Story under cut)

“I just feel bad, you know?” A foot against the base of a tree only had to press slightly before the thick wood groaned and cracked, threatening to fall to the forest floor below. The snow was deep enough that Jasper imagined it would cause a mighty flurry to erupt around them, but he wasn’t about to stop Emmett from doing whatever he needed to distract himself. Grief rolled of him like a steady stream, relentless in it’s flow. “Like if we’d stayed, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“But we didn’t stay, and it did happen,” Jasper spoke gently, pushing back the guilt he’d only recently allowed himself to move on from. Alice had reasoned that it was likely that any type of incident that threatened Bella’s life, whether vampire-related or not, may have driven Edward away from her eventually. But Jasper knew that Alice had held onto hope even all these months later.

It really was a shame that Bella had died.

“It’s ridiculous,” Emmett finally pushed harder against the tree, and when it cracked and snapped beneath the force, catapulting snow into the air around them as the hundred-foot giant fell, neither man flinched. “It didn’t have to be like this. It wasn’t just his choice. She could’ve been one of us by now. It’s what she wanted.”

Emmett’s grief was a passing storm, Jasper knew. Emmett always handled change and tragedy and disappointment far better than any member of their odd little family. No matter how much the taller man cared for the now-dead human girl, Jasper knew that it wouldn’t take long for Emmett to move on.

As for their brother…

Jasper was dreading having to fill Carlisle and Esme in on the news. It didn’t feel right to deliver the news over the phone, so after a few vague voicemails and an even more ambiguous phone call, the pair were ending their hunting trip early and would be back at Tanya’s before midnight.

Not for the first time over the past couple of days, he wished Alice were still there. Empath that he was he had never been good at comfort, outside of using his ability to force it into the atmosphere. But still, Alice had tasked him with it regardless, informing him that Esme would take it hardest and it would be best to have them both back at the house before revealing the news.

And Edward, Alice said, absolutely could not know.

Rosalie had shocked Jasper by raging at that particular detail, her frustration trumping her initial shock and guilt so thoroughly Jasper had done a double-take, staring at the blonde curiously.

“He deserves to know,” Rosalie asserted, folding her arms over her chest as she eyed her shell-shocked husband, sitting at a nearby couch, his head in his hands. “It’s not fair for us to keep something like this from him.”

“I’m just relaying what Alice said,” Jasper deflected her irritation with half of a shrug, Tanya’s phone feeling particularly heavy in his hands. “It’s not like it would be easy information to get to him.”

Now, almost two days later, the knowledge that Bella Swan was dead sat in him like lead; heavy and unrelenting. Tanya and her sisters had expressed their sympathies, although Jasper could sense how bizarre they felt, watching Emmett frown and mope over some human girl. Carmen and Eleazar had volunteered to help them track down Edward, but Jasper quickly dismissed the offer, telling them what Alice had spoken.

Edward could not know. Not yet, at least.

“When Alice comes back, we’ll regroup,” Jasper spoke, watching as Emmett eyed an even-larger tree, likely considering knocking another one to the ground. “But when Carlisle and Esme come back, I’m going to need some back up.”

Emmett smiled thinly, nodding as he pulled his eyes off the tree and back toward Jasper. “Esme is going to be so wrecked.”

Jasper did not nod, but he did grimace at the idea of the matriarch of their family so distraught. It hadn’t mattered that the woman had only known Bella for a small amount of time. Esme had cherished and loved Bella the same as she did any of them.

It was as he was gathering the breath to speak, when Jasper stopped, his head turning back toward the direction of Tanya’s home in the distance.

Rosalie’s voice reached them only a millisecond before he’d felt it; sharp, piercing terror and guilt shooting through the somber atmosphere. Jasper was moving just as they heard the first shout.

“Emmett!” Rosalie screamed, “Emmett help!”

In all the races Jasper had entertained over the years, Emmett had never once beaten him, no matter how many times the taller man played dirty. But in all the years Jasper had been with the Cullens, through all her dramatic fits and tantrums, he had never once heard Rosalie sound so terrified.

So when Emmett beat him back to the property, snow flying around the men as they raced back toward the house, Jasper didn’t even find himself shocked. If someone could bend space and time through sheer strength alone, Jasper was sure Emmett would find a way. Anything to get to his wife.

They met a hysterical Rosalie half a mile from the house, and at first, little made sense.

“Rosie, Rosie,” Emmett held her tightly as words tumbled out of her too quickly and too disjointedly to make any sense. “Slow down, what’s going on?”

“I told him,” she screeched eventually, her words catching as the guilt and fear wrestled within her, “I messed up and I told him because he deserved to know and I—” when her words caught on a fully-formed sob, Jasper forced himself to look away. And as his eyes found Tanya and her sisters, appearing at the edge of the forest, worry coloring their faces, Rosalie finally let the rest of her words tumble out. “I miss my brother.”

And in that moment, Jasper knew what had happened.

Rosalie had told Edward Bella was dead.

Alice had strictly emphasized how that couldn’t happen. But now the boy knew. And Jasper didn’t have to be a mind-reader to guess how the impulsive teen was going to react.

“Oh, no,” Emmett whispered, clinging to his distraught wife. Jasper made eye contact with him and immediately knew that their minds were on the same page.

Now, Edward wouldn’t be coming back.

————————————

The story fell out in pieces, leaving Jasper and Emmett to sort through them to form the narrative on their own.

Bella wasn’t dead; a fact Alice neglected to let anyone else in on.

Alice was flying somewhere; it was unlikely that it would be back there, to Denali.

Edward wasn’t coming home; it was assumed that Alice was heading wherever he was.

Bella wasn’t dead, and Edward didn’t know it.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for Rosalie to calm. But while Emmett comforted her and soothed her guilt—guilt that Jasper could feel eating away at her stubborn facade—Jasper quickly and quietly explained to Tanya the situation.

“What can we do?” The strawberry blonde asked, sharing a horrified look with her sisters.

“I don’t know. I need to talk to Alice.”

And by the time they all made it back into the house, Esme and Carlisle had made it back from their trip.

One look at Rosalie, completely beside herself and shaking like a leaf, had forced the pair into action.

“What’s going on?” Carlisle demanded as Esme flew to Rosalie’s side, enveloping the girl in a tight embrace, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What happened?”

There had been plenty of things that Jasper never wanted Carlisle Cullen to find out. When he and Alice had first joined back in the fifties, that list had felt a mile long. Each fact about his past felt like a confession. Each story a token to pay for judgement never received.

Jasper watched Carlisle take so much in stride through the years that eventually, even after slip-ups, Jasper found himself comfortable enough to talk about it with the older man. To look him in the eye when the conversations transpired. He respected Carlisle, even cared for the man.

But how on Earth was he supposed to tell him that the boy he thought of as a beloved son might never be returning?

The hour that followed had been excruciating.

Emmett and Rosalie had disappeared soon after Carlisle and Esme’s arrival. It was only after Jasper asked when Irina hesitantly told him that they’d borrowed a car to drive to the closest airport in Fairbanks. From there, their plan was to call Alice and demand to know her location so they could help.

Not one to judge a plan made with good intentions Jasper had simply nodded and tried to tune out Esme’s grief.

He’d been right to suspect that the woman would take the news the hardest. If anyone Jasper had ever met deserved happiness, Esme did.

She’d already lost a son in a previous life. It felt cruel for history to repeat itself this way.

When the phone finally rang, Jasper answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“I don’t have much time,” Alice spoke, her strained voice immediately soothing some of his anxieties just by the sound alone. “I have to make it quick so the flight attendant doesn’t interfere.”

“Where are you going?” He spoke, feeling the nerves in the house immediately begin to rise. He knew Carlisle and Esme were only in the next room, listening in as Eleazar and Carmen lingered close by.

“I’m going to stop Edward. There’s no getting a hold of him, so don’t even try. Our only chance at stopping him is by getting to him as soon as we can.”

“We?” That surprised him. It didn’t sound like an invitation. But quickly his surprise faded. Of course Bella would want part of whatever intervention Alice was staging. “And where, Alice?”

“Italy.”

“No,” he shouted the word before he could stop himself, and when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps he lowered his voice, curling himself around the phone as he walked in the opposite direction, “Alice, no.”

“If I don’t do this, Edward is as good as dead, Jasper.” Alice didn’t even sound surprised at his sudden outburst, of course. “Bella is alive, and once he sees that, I think we have a shot.”

“And if he doesn’t see that? What is he planning on doing? Join the Volturi?” It made little sense, but when it came to Edward’s fits, not much did. Of course, he was sure the alternative was more likely…

“He’s going to ask them to kill him.” She spoke, confirming his fears. “He knows they’re the only people who would willingly do it. And if they don’t want to do it willingly, he’ll force their hand.”

Jasper swore then, turning to see Carlisle standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a frown etched deep into his kind face. He knew the man could hear every word Alice was saying, even despite her lowered voice and hushed tone.

The two locked eyes for a moment before Jasper forced himself to look away and continue speaking.

“How?”

“I can’t be sure, I keep seeing him do different things, he keeps changing his mind.”

“What’s he picking between?”

“A killing spree through the city, attacking the guard, lifting a car over his head in the main square,” Jasper hissed at that, hating the fact that Edward was truly considering all of these things for Alice to get even a vague vision of them. Alice continued without a beat. “Mostly things that would expose them—he knows that’s he fastest way to force a reaction.”

“Alice, I don’t think you can stop him on your own.” Not that he doubted Alice’s abilities for a second, but if Edward was so ravaged by grief and hopelessness that he’d resort to murdering innocents, he couldn’t help but fear what his brother might do if Alice tried to stop him on her own. “I can be there, just give me some time to get to the airport.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You’re going to have company anyways once Emmett figures out where you are.”

“Tell Emmett no.”

“He and Rosalie are likely at Fairbanks International now.” He was surprised she wasn’t aware of that. He was sure they would have been calling Alice non-stop by now. Truly all of her attention was focused on Edward.

“Well, go after Emmett and Rosalie and bring them back.”

“Alice, I think we could be of some help there. Seriously.”

“Think about it, Jasper. If he sees any of us, what do you think he will do?”

Jasper sighed at that. But when he realized Alice was waiting on a verbal reply he closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. “He’ll act faster. He’ll know we’re just trying to stop him. That we’ll tell him anything to get him to listen.” Even if it was the truth, that Bella was alive, Edward would absolutely never believe them, especially with Alice knowing his true intentions.

“Exactly. I think Bella is the only chance—if there is a chance…”

“Be honest, Alice. What is the chance? It sounds like he’s got a head start on you two.”

“I’ll do everything that can be done, but prepare Carlisle; the odds aren’t good.”

“And what happens then? If you fail. You’ll be in Volterra with nothing but a human at your side. Aro will,” he swallowed, trying hard to ignore Carlisle’s concerned gaze on his back, “he won’t want to let you go if he sees into Edward’s mind.”

Of course, Alice had the goddamn audacity to sound amused at the idea. “I’ve thought of that.”

He forced a few calm breaths, then. “Alice, you need to promise me you won’t put yourself in danger. I refuse to let this situation get worse than it already is. And it’s already bad enough. Promise me you’ll get out.”

“Yes, I promise.” But her words were too practiced. Too ready. No matter how much he trusted his wife, Jasper didn’t believe her for a second.

“I can be there soon, please. Alice, let me help. I’ll have Rosalie and Emmett come back to wait here with Carlisle and Esme. Do not do this alone.”

“Don’t follow me. I promise, Jasper. One way or another, I’ll get out.”

Jasper sighed. “If anything happens, all bets are off.” There was a moment of silence then, and when Alice didn’t contradict his words, he found himself feeling only the slightest bit better. If things went south, he’d be there, and nothing on god’s green earth would stop him. Alice had to know that.

Whether she’d seen it was something he didn’t want to know. (Because that would mean her failure was more likely than she was leading on.)

“Be safe, Alice,” he whispered, clinging to the phone with both hands now, knowing that soon she’d be gone, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

He stood entirely still for several seconds before the beeping of the dead line brought him back to reality. Alice was on the way to a viper pit and here he was, standing in a too-big kitchen with marble countertops clutching a cordless phone like it was his lifeline. Told to sit and stay and wait, as if he’d ever been good at any of those three things in his goddamn life.

When Carlisle placed a hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped, so taken off guard by the motion that the older man immediately apologized.

But when Jasper finally turned his eyes onto the man who had accepted he and Alice into his family over fifty years ago, it was easy to push the hesitance aside when Carlisle asked firmly, “What do we do now?”

And like always, Jasper had an answer for him. But not one he wanted to provide.

“We wait.”

#twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #MTHG #cmon content creators!#share a snippet of a WIP with a donate link!#post that link without fanfare!#encourage donations and offer content in return!#use your platforms for good you funky renaissance weirdos!#anyways this is mainly jasper/Alice bc 96% of my content is #so be sure to unclench those cheeks and try not to be a loser about that

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not-from-the-absence-of-violence · 4 years ago

Text

I exist as I am

it is yet again @jonnitweek time :D

Day 4 - identity / fluff

Jonnit and their relationship with gender.

Jonnit sat at a table, breakfast among the crew these days was somewhat tense with their new status and the captain's death looming over their shoulders.

Dref didn’t like eating around other people so he had gone and locked himself in his own office to eat, Travis was sitting in front of him, he looked generally annoyed at the world while he ate his breakfast.

Gable arrived a few moments later, having gotten no food for themself as they usually stole from Travis, who always grabbed way too much.

“Hello Jonnit,” they said cheerfully, Jonnit smiled back, then they said “Travis.” who gave them a bleary glare.

They sat down next to him and in practiced familiarity went to grab Travis' mug.

He swatted at their hand like an annoyed cat. “That’s heartroot,” he said pointedly. “Which if you want you are going to have to blend yourself I’m afraid.”

They don’t seem at all surprised by this, just seem annoyed that they will have to get their own drinks later.

Jonnit stares at him, he has heard of heartroot before of course, it’s one of those things that he is aware of but has never actually thought about.

“You drink heartroot?” Jonnit asks in genuine curiosity.

Travis smirks. “Sometimes,” he says, “staying the same for so long would just be dreadfully boring don’t you think?”

Gable shakes their head a little. “I feel like you aren’t explaining this right.”

“Well how would you put it then?”

They seem to pause for a second. “You humans and your gender,” they say, then stare at Jonnit, “I’ve certainly never gotten it.”

And Jonnit thought he did, right up until that point where he wasn’t sure actually. He hadn’t grown up particularly sheltered, there are however things that you just don’t question, corsairs were generally a lot more free, and glamorous, in their expression.

“Dref, how does heartroot work?” Jonnit said as he was sitting on a desk in his office as Dref worked methodically to clean some equipment.

“I-It’s not s-something I’m an ex- xpert in b-but,” they say, turning to look at Jonnit, there is a bright slightly nervous energy about the way he kicks his legs, “It’s d-definitely m- magic.”

Jonnit rolled his eyes without malice. “I get that.”

Dref can’t help but smile at him. “I h-have p-ersonally n-never t-taken it.”

“I think i get how it works, i meant more in a,” he said and vaguely waved his arms around, “how do you know you want it, I guess?”

Jonnit seems lost in his thoughts for a moment and Dref wishes he knew better how to verbalize his own feelings, he hasn’t taken heartroot no, this doesn’t mean they don’t understand the anxious curiosity practically radiating from Jonnit.

“N-not everyone who f-feels d-different t-takes heartroot,” they tried. “B-but some p-people feel their b-body doesn’t align w-with who they are.”

Jonnit hummed impatiently. “But how do you know.”

“Experimentation? Often t-there is m-more to ex-xploring g-gender.”

Jonnit seems content with that answer, a small smile on his face as he stares at the wall. “Sure okay.” he flashes a smile at Dref, “Thanks, man.”

“Any t-time.” Dref says and they lapse back into comfortable silence as Jonnit ponders and Dref works.

Celebrations are always big on the Uhuru, the sound of music and laughter filling the ship with an almost magical energy.

Jonnit likes parties, the general buzz of fun and movement letting the gentle worry of the life of a corsair fade into the background.

It’s night and Travis is lamenting about it, a coyote on Gable’s lap. Dref comes into the room, they are wearing a floor length skirt and a coat other than his doctor's coat for once.

Gable smiles at him. “Look who pulled out all the stops tonight.”

He blushes and stammers a bit, “T-thank you.”

Jonnit can’t help but stare at it, the fabric looking soft and glittery all the same. “I didn’t know you owned skirts.” he remarks.

“T-they are i-inconvenient for m-most of m-my work,” he says, a bit solemn.

Jonnit nods, a pirate's life was not made for pretty and frilly outfits. Travis grumbles something about being able to wear skirts when she’s human and Gable laughs at him, genly petting her head.

He can’t help but keep staring at Dref’s skirt as they run their fingers through the fabric.

“I p-probably have one f-for y-you,” Dref says suddenly, “if you w-would l-like?”

Jonnit’s eyes go wide and he smiles excitedly, “For real?” he says.

Dref nods.

“Cool! Thank you.” he says, getting up quickly and practically dragging Dref to the door.

Gable and Travis watch them leave as Jonnit bables excitedly, Dref looks at him with a soft smile.

“They grow up so fast.” Travis says mocking at Gable’s incredibly fond look.

“Oh sush,” they say, “you are one to talk.”

Jonnit stares at himself in the tall mirror of the captain's quarters, the skirt Dref has given him is a deep blue, with what looks like stars embroidered at the bottom of it. He likes the sensation of it when he spins, the fabric swishing and all the constellations moving with him.

He isn’t sure why he has never worn a skirt before, mostly because it has never been practical maybe, but now he feels warm and happy as he looks in the mirror.

“It s-suits you,” Dref says,

“Yeah!” Jonnit says with glee. “Now let’s go dance.”

He pulls Dref by his arm, who then almost stumbles but quickly follows behind Jonnit, into the mass of dancing skyjacks.

Everyone seems excited to see them, of course they are the heroes of the hour having not so long ago taken down The Civility.

Everyone on the crew is fond of Jonnit, he mingels easily in the crowd and people seem glad to teach him all types of dances he eagerly attempts.

Gable pops in and out, occasionally to Jonnit's delight swinging him around like he weighs nothing. Dref mostly stays at the outskirts, nodding at the pats on the back he gets from the rest of the crew, smiling at Jonnit’s exited demeanor.

"I should wear this more often." He says later, twirling to make the skirt turn with him.

"Y-you can k-keep it," Dref says firmly.

Jonnit looks at him like he has stars in his eyes. "Thank you," he says, and leans in for a hug slowly, so Dref can back out.

Dref melts into the quick hug, holding Jonnit for a second, hoping he gets everything they didn’t get to have.

After Buzra Nyth Jonnit still owns the skirt. Dref was right of course, it isn’t very convenient in most situations but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t wear it.

It surprisingly doesn’t feel terrible to wear it, it brings with it only soft memories of Dref, and a nice glow like feeling that Jonnit can’t help but smile at. It’s the comfort Dref would give him, were he still here.

There is something about being called “boy” that just doesn’t sit right with Jonnit. He’d imagined it was because of how childish it made him feel, but there is something weirdly specific about the twinge of discomfort that comes with it.

Gable and Travis are listening to him ramble about in, trying to pay attention at this late hour. It is, Jonnit imagines, a bit like a sleepover you would have were they a normal friend group.

Except Travis, who is a snake at the moment, is curled around Gable’s neck, and Gable is nodding along while they idly play with a gun.

“Is girl any better?” Gable tries.

Jonnit grimaces a bit. “It’s not...worse?”

“Let’s just call you child then.” Travis says.

Gable vaguely pushes part of him off their shoulder. “This is important.” they say annoyed. Jonnit can’t help but laugh at them both.

“What about young man?” Gable keeps trying.

“It isn’t bad, doesn’t feel...me?” he says, gesturing vaguely. It was all confusing and not easy to explain.

“Well people don’t need to use gendered anything.” Gable says matter of factly.

“Or everything.” Travis says, and she smiles Jonnit a snakey grin.

As the night goes on Jonnit has a small list written down; he finds he doesn’t mind “son”, but he does prefer “sibling”, he decidedly dislikes “boy” and “man” feels distant, “sir” and “madam” both have a certain status they are excited about achieving someday. It’s almost fun really, repeating small sentences in their brain, imagining scenarios, Travis and Gable both occasionally sleepily adding commentary.

He ends the list with a twice underlined bold. “Captain Kessler.” which leaves him smiling stupidly at the paper.

This is my friend, they are a corsair and their name is Jonnit. He writes down carefully.

“Hey would you guys mind using they pronouns for me occasionally,” they say at the end of the night, feeling a small and unreasonable anxiety in his chest.

Gable smiles excitedly. “Of course!”

Travis lifts her head from where it was buried in Gable's hair. “Welcome to the club, kid.”

Jonnit smiles. “Yeah,” they say, “yeah I guess so.”

Jonnit smiles at the scene before him, Margaret had forced them all into what she regarded as a well needed rest after Nordia. So here they were now, cooped up into Dref’s former office, laying on the floor as Margaret did their nails one by one.

It was an activity that required patience, and forced you to sit down and enjoy eachothers company. Occasionally Margaret and Travis took sips from their mugs of heartroot, Travis’ balanced precariously on the edge of a book shelf, Margaret’s safely at her side as she chided Gable for moving too much.

Jonnit clinked their bright freshly polished nails against his own mug, they were a deep blue to match with their skirt and made a soft lovely sound against the ceramic.

Jonnit had, almost shyly, approached Margaret about blending heartroot a while ago, and had been blown away by her level of enthusiasm and knowledge.

So there he was, shakingly holding the tea, which was ever so carefully picked to stop facial hair growth and to make their voice just a little higher. Margaret had gently reminded him that the mix could always be adjusted, people and feelings change after all. It still felt like a big step as he took a small sip, it was sweet and almost floral and warm.

He couldn’t quite contain his giggles, a happy haze falling over them. His three companions turn to him with equal fond looks.

Many things happened when Jonnit went back to Akaron, the feelings and slight unresolved tension from when they had left home still hanging around the air and certainly explanations were needed from his sister, who had apparently also left home.

Both Zana and his dad were delighted to see him, embracing them in a group hug so tight Jonnit almost felt he couldn’t breathe.

His nervousness falling away as they entered their childhood home and sat down to have the longest conversation he had had with anything in a while.

There was a lot to digest of course, with both Zana and him retelling their adventures, their destinies, their fears. Jonnit’s gender journey in the end was only one of the many many items in the long list of explanations that night.

Whatever edge of nervousness there was it was worth it for the gentle peace of understanding that washed over all of them having talked.

It was worth the giddiness he got when he overheard Zana talking to a friend of hers.

“Yeah me and my sibling are home for a bit,” she says, “Jonnit? You remember them right?”

It was worth for the hug his father gave them when they left, full of unspeakable emotion.

“I’ll always be here you know,” his father said, blinking back tears, “whatever you do, you always have home to come back to.”

Jonnit was tearing up too “Thanks dad.” he said and added, “You’ll always be welcome on my ship too.”

His dad gave him a wide smile, tears now falling from his eyes as he nudged them towards the Uhuru where Travis and Gable were waiting. “Now go get them, captain Kessler.”

“Captain?” his quartermaster said as they slowly entered their quarters, Jonnit nodded at them to speak “Ma’am the crew is awaiting orders. Shall I tell them to get to their battle stations?”

Captain Jonnit Kessler moved away from the window where he was looking at their next target, a red feather ship gilded in gold, one of the last ones in the sky. He couldn’t help but smile, they should be used to this by now but some things never quite stop being a small novelty.

“Yes,” they said, “and tell Gable to come up to my quarters, I would like to see them before the battle.”

The quartermaster nodded, the excitement of upcoming battle clearly in the air. “Yes ma’am.” they said, exaggerating the salute a little.

Jonnit smiled and shook his head. “Well get to it then.” they said, not quite being able to shake the amusement in his voice

“Yes sir!” they say, with a final grin as they leave the room.

And with that Capitain Kessler prepares themself for one of many battles to come, one of the crucial ones that one day make them the best pirate to ever live, the ones that help him one day rule the skies.

#skyjacks #jonnitweek2021 #campaign podcast #jonnit kessler #gable skyjacks #dref wormwood #travis matagot #margaret skyjacks

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geirskogull · 4 years ago

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Moments of Calm - Part 1

+ Notes: 5.5 Spoilers Present in This Fic, Warrior of Light Danica Voss takes a moment to herself to perfect that strong silent type look by letting her brain get the better of her.

Archive Link

Warnings: This Chapter isn’t particularly Spicey, but overall this is NSFW

Word Count: 3k

“Finally a moment to yourself then Warrior of Light?” Estiniens voice was a cool whisper through the warm Mor Dhona night air. Unceremoniously warm, if you were to ask her, but it's tepid purple glow was relaxing to her anxious mind even if the slowly forming sweat upon skin was not. It was sticky and gross but at least it reminded her she was material. That she was present and here and no longer upon any bloody field of battle where good men go to die. Where heros place their very lives on the line for a cause they may not fully understand the weight against.

Estinien grimaced when his voice didn’t draw her eye. It normally did. Instead her lovely mismatched visage, gold and green like the sunlight through a forest canopy, gazed over towards the wreckage that was the Keeper of the Lake. Midgardsormr’s rest was temporary, as she had told him once when appraising him of what happened with Omega after Ala Mhigo’s liberation, but he couldn’t help but wonder if in moments like now when she sat silent and contemplative if she wished the Founder of the First Brood could be roused awake with a simple please and thank you.

“Practicing the Strong Silent type act you have then I take it?” He chuckled, though it felt hollow in his chest. He hoped it brought her some sort of ease. Danica Voss, Ala Mhigan Native Scion, seemed to always relax when she heard him laugh, or in general display some sort of ease from a smile to a gentle nod to just having less bags under his eyes more days than normal. He prayed it worked even when the act was false.

“Oh?” Her head snapped up finally, looking from the corpse of the primogenitor to the former Azure Dragoon. What greeted him did nothing to put ease in his heart, well... nothing had recently if he was being honest with himself. And as he liked to view himself a realist, he liked to believe he was honest with himself. Her eyes were red and the bags under them outpaced his own. Exhaustion sat in those once brilliant blinding eyes. And that smile that saw such good in him, even as he existed as nothing short of a monstrous creature of vengeance, was nothing but a faint dim twitch at the edge of her lips.

“Sorry, lost in thought.” She chuckled and he knew it was as false as his own. The smile that grew on her face didn’t reach her eyes and only the rhythmic kicking of her feet against the edge of the cold stone roof paced with her true anxiety. Fast and surprised. He’d caught her off guard, and that was never a good thing.

“Lost in thought and yes, a moment to myself. And before you ask, no you're not interrupting.” In fact he was a welcome interruption. Her mind had grown to lingering on her fears. On this new threat, Fandaniel and his odd Lunar primals. Once more the ever present threat of universal extinction was on the horizon and she’d only just returned.

“I need to steal my rest where I can no? Otherwise there's no rest for the wicked.” And by the gods, she needed to rest. Every movement now was like a forced march, and her heart could only take so much. Her eyes dipped away from his own greys as a familiar escapist thought crossed her mind. Fray had offered her Freedom from this once.

“Or Righteous, as it seems more often the case for you these days Lady Voss.” He chimed, turning his back to her to place his spear near the door. Close enough that even on this roof he need just think and grab it without having to run, but far enough away that it was in no way capable of interrupting any gentle thoughts either might have. Her eyes widened a spell at his words, and he heard an honest snort of a giggle echo through the empty night air. The melody brought a true smile to his face in turn. She was still there, but tired.

“Oh please, don’t call me that. I’m not some noble lady of Ishgard.” The faint flush on her cheeks in the moonlight was enough to tell him she didn’t really mind, but was just caught off guard.She turned away and motioned away with her hand, and he found his smile grew with his pride.

“True, but you are my lady after all. Does it offend that much?” He asked, gently tilting his head as he strode closer. Gloved hand reaching out for her extended one, grasping it firmly, only to quickly intertwine his digits with her own. He let out a low, almost content hum as he approached, gently tugging at their connection to turn her form round.

“Not if you sit next to me.” She answered, pulling upon his own hand, dragging him towards the edge. How long had it been since they last saw each other? Traveled by one anothers side? Her endless optimism and hope tempered by his realism. Azure Dragoons together.

Too long, he decided, flipping her hand over and bringing the back of her hand to his lips. A simple yet dated action, unlike him in any other circumstance but uniquely correct here. Alone. At the top of the Rising Stones. Not a soul to see the way his eyes warmed with a deep fondness when they returned to her own. Nor the growing toothy smile on her face, and the light slowly entering her eyes as she felt at Home.

“I suppose I can do that.” He chuckled, letting go of her hand only momentarily to take his assigned seat next to her. Legs hanging over the edge of the roof, eyes lingering over the horizon. No wonder she got so lost in thought up here, he was almost swept away in the current himself. It had to be something about the air. Intoxicating. Or perhaps it’d just been an unending series of long drawn out days.

Words were not what saved him from the tide however. But the gentle press of her head upon his shoulder, and the wrap of her arm through his. Absently, he rested his hand atop hers on his bicep and looked down at her comfortable but still troubled eyes. Before he had a chance to speak however, she did.

“You’re home.” Her voice was but a distant whisper, almost lost on the night breeze. He blinked, taken aback, and was awaiting the inevitable ‘Where have you been?’ but -

“I missed you.” It never came.

And he found himself for a moment, unable to respond. A warmth blossoming in his chest that should have been familiar by now but always took him off guard. Of course she didn’t ask. She knew if it was important, he’d tell her. She... trusted so readily it scared him sometimes. Someone was bound to come around and see her endless optimism and dreams and kindness and open hands and hurt her for it. Wield the knife that would steal her from the world forever. Away from him.

The thought of that turned his stomach into painful knots. It had almost already happened once. Upon the Dark, with that imposter in Zenos body and that wavering sickness over her. That broke her concentration, almost killed her. He prayed like then, he’d be lucky enough to stop any blade aiming for her back but -

These were not words voiced to air. They were visible only in the churning grey storm clouds of his eyes and hers were closed to them for now. So his answer was in action and the gentle touch of his hand upon the back of her head. Cradling her form against him.

“I missed you too.”

His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, the words somehow not enough to convey exactly what he felt. His... lack of practice at this whole being a person not obsessed with vengeance thing was really starting to bite him in the ass and he hated it!

But it was enough and his worry was for naught. Her anxious kicking legs against the stone stilled, and though he could hear it, he imagined her heart did as well. She kept eyes closed and just wrapped her arms around his torso, in a firm side hug that was a welcome gift.

“Are you alright?” A question voiced later, as the moon grew higher in the night sky and the warmth turned to a faint chill. The silence hadn’t be bad. Neither of them particularly disliked silence. But it had felt empty which was odd for them. This wasn't the silence of being alone together.

“No.” She answered so instantly that it almost startled him. The matter of fact tone, the way her eyes opened only a crack to make sure none else were around to hear her answer. It was concerning. Estinien had half the mind to just pick her up and wander inside to whatever room she called her own in the Stones and wrap her in enough blankets that she’d be warm and well... That wouldn’t have done anything if she was upset beyond probably give her another reason to be upset.

“What’s wrong then?” He asked instead, taking the novel approach he’d been trying of late of using his damn words rather than sitting in a corner and hoping someone explained things to him eventually.

“Where should I begin?” There was a bitterness to her tone that he’d seen only once before. After the events in Ul’dah. After the apparent assassination of the Sultana, blame placed on the Warrior of Light and the scions, and the death of many of her friends. He furrowed his brow, trying to think of how to answer.

“The Start, I know you know I’m not the best with words so help me understand so maybe I can be better with them.” He exhaled the waterfall of words like a Coerthan avalanche and hoped she was fast enough to dodge the snowfall. Else he might have started her and he’d kick himself in the legs later.

“Well then, let me say I’ve never been alright, Estinien. I’m just very good at faking bravery until it works. I’m terrified. I’ve always been terrified that one misstep on any of our parts now can just... break the world!” She unwound her arms from him and looked despondent at her palms,hidden by the omnipresent fingerless black gloves worn with time and constant usage till the fabric upon the upright hands were paper thin. She balled them into fists, sharp nails piercing the fabric in already known locations. She’d done this sort of angry motion time and again.

“You won’t though.” He tried to console, his words not false but too easy. Not conveying the fullness of what he thought. Something he knew the moment she pulled away. Eyes open with a scared rage that he’d seen once before as well. But he tried not to think how dangerously close he came to killing her that day on the Steps of Faith.

“You don’t know that!” She exclaimed, slamming those balled fists onto her own lap in exasperation. Looking up at him with those wide terrified eyes he hated seeing. “No one does!” Perhaps it was in a way hopeful, this uncertainty in the future but it didn’t feel that way to her at this moment.

“I know I don’t, and I know normally it would be you chastising me for jumping to the worst conclusion. But...” She exhaled and he found his words lacking. Stalling and falling off, like they were broken keys on a piano that ruined whatever song he was attempting. Her eyes fell from the terror and what replaced them was a sad, accepting smile. One he’d never seen before, and hoped he never would again.

“You don’t have to say anything you know. It’s probably just good I got that off my chest.” She laughed, shaking her head at herself. It was good to air that but it didn’t deal with the problem she was well aware of. It just took the top level off the simmering pot and prevented it from overflowing once more.

“I want to, though. I want you to know that your fear is...” He pleaded, taking her hands in his one at a time, gently running a finger across her knuckles in some vain attempt to soothe her nerves that actually did a bit more than he thought it would. Her shoulders dropped and she looked away, down at the now empty streets of the adventuring town.

“It’s good. It means you’re aware of what’s on the line. It’s terrible and eating at your heart obviously, but it means you’re not blind to what's at risk for your dreams of a better future." He leaned forward, lowering his voice not out of fear that someone might dare hear the former Azure Dragoon be soft - that sort of fear died the moment he made that recent mistake in Ishgard - but out of the intimacy it provided with his head now gently resting against her own. He could see the faint tears she blinked away time and again, see the exhaustion bleeding from her brows and hear the whisper she tried to hide.

“Sometimes I wish I was...” One of those damn tears she had been trying so hard to restrain fell down her cheek in a silent sod. Leaving a clear pathway in the days dirt she had yet been unable to clear. Hells, she probably hadn't had a chance to clean herself up since the fights in Thanalan.

“If you were, you'd be no better than Ilberd." He whispered in turn, allowing an edge into his hidden gentleness at that traitor's name. The pain he had caused Voss was inexorably present, still in her heart. The trust she had for him, the one who so willingly put up with her endless questions about home without growing bored with the Half Elezen, the one who slew their people for brilliant dreams of freedom stained red with innocent blood. He shook his head, bad words really on his part given a second tear joined the first.

"I know but-" She shivered like the cold wind in the night was frigid icy blades digging into her skin, her soul even. She choked back a sob that she refused to let air. Proud. She was always proud. That much was true. “It... hurts.” She grasped at her chest balling up the ripped fabric of her shirt. She’d need to mend that later.

"Your heart is a wonderfully heavy burden to bear" He whispered, holding her in his arms firm, while one of his scarred hands gently wiped at the growing sorrow staining her tired face. It wounded him to see her so, and at this point he wasn’t sure if it was his own softness upon her or the connection they held as dragoons. “It’s so wonderful, and open. You see the good in everyone, and even when you can’t you manage to fish out the good they can’t see. It’s just so filled with love and hope for the world. So heavy with the weight of your dreams.” He continued an avalanche of words he hoped were correct. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her own.

"But, perhaps consider not bearing it alone." He released his hold on her the moment she burrowed her face into his chest. Her shaking less now, her breathing more steady but the tears falling much more readily. That worked. Thank Halone that worked. A fragile smile twitched at the edge of his lips as he brushed hair from her face. Her long tangled black waves not unlike a veil of mourning around her face. Of all those in the world, she deserved most to mourn.

Did this silence count as mourning? He wondered as he traced soothing circles upon her back as intermediary sobs escaped her, muffled by his wrinkled coat. He hoped it did. He very much hoped it did.

When she next spoke the moon was beginning it’s descent into day. How long had they sat there in silence? An eternity? Not long enough? He didn’t know. But when her hoarse voice did manage to reach his ears as she slowly looked up at him he listened.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now.” She chuckled faintly at her own words. What was she some young child demanding more time up only to realize the weight of sleep upon their backs? No. She was just tired. So tired and this had been such a long day.

“Let me walk you back then.” It wasn’t a request or a question. It was really a demand and he hoped it didn’t sound like one. Unwinding his arms from around her swung his legs back towards the safety of the hard ground of the roof before reaching out with his spear and returning it to its place on his back.

“It’s just my room Estinien, I’m not going to get lost.” She chuckled once more, joining him by standing and showing she didn’t actually mind the idea of once more threading her fingers with his and giving a tired squeeze.

“Just, please. I’ve missed you after all.” He reached for her other hand to do the same, stopping it from reaching the door that would lead into the top floor of the Rising Stones, and only a really short walk to her room. Top floor. So she could do just this. Hide and brood up high like all dragoons should.

She huffed loudly, attempting to cross her arms across her chest but they were captive and she didn’t dare free them. “Fine. Fine. I guess that’s alright, given I’ve missed you too.” She shook her head, the smiling growing by the second. Ah, little victories. Freeing but one of his hands he pushed open the wooden door and bowed. Waiting for her to walk through and drag him with her.

#ffxiv #ff14 #estinien x wol #estinien wyrmblood #danica voss

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nicostolemybones · 6 years ago

Text

Good day

Happy Birthday! (Nico Birthday Week)

Trans Nico fic

Tw: pain, dysphoria, period mention, unsafe binding

Nico inevitably woke up in pain, although he figured he could bare it today. He'd been told pretty adamantly not to train today, but he didn't want to sit around and do nothing, so once he was awake and ready, he walked slowly to the infirmary. His joints ached badly, but he wouldn't be walking around too much anyway, so it was nothing he couldn't handle for today. He'd decided to spend the day helping Will out- of course, Will would probably refuse if Nico asked, so he was just going to turn up and start helping with the stock rooms- he could sit on the shelves to sort through the boxes and count everything and take note of what they were running low on.

Of course, when Will found him sitting on the shelves counting out bottles of testosterone, he was less than pleased. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Helping," Nico replied, "you're running low on ace bandages and nectar but there's enough ambrosia to last a few months at least. I'm counting out the testiclerone." Will's wheezing laugh alerted Nico that not only had he mispronounced testosterone, but he'd said the word testicle and both boys were too immature to not overreact. Nico facepalmed. "Oh balls," he sighed, then realised he'd basically made the same mistake twice, laughing at himself quietly.

"If you're not going to be mature," Will chastised, but he was definitely being more immature than Nico was with his bright glow from the laughter, "then get out of my stock cupboard."

"Never I've established a nest," Nico protested.

"I ordered you to rest."

"I am resting," Nico argued, "I don't wanna just sit in my cabin when I could be helpful."

"But it's your birthday," Will whined, "you shouldn't be counting out medicines you should be out having fun!"

"It's not my birthday," Nico said slowly, and Will raised his eyebrows.

"Nico, it's the 28th. It's your birthday today."

"...oh," Nico whispered, after a while.

"Did you… dude, did you forget your own birthday?"

"It… it's not important," Nico sighed with a huff, turning his attention back to counting, "it's just a day."

"Is there a reason you don't wanna celebrate?"

"No," Nico shrugged, "not particularly…"

"Then let's go!" Will had grabbed Nico's hand before he could process what was happening, and his best friend was dragging him away.

Will brought him ice cream, which Nico appreciated- he had chocolate, whilst Will had strawberry. Nico was having fun at first, but he started to feel out of place as they shopped for clothes. All the men were so tall, and Nico was terrified to talk should his voice give him away. It had been easy to pass his higher register off as puberty not starting yet, but Will was fifteen too, and his voice had already started breaking. He always had a very clumsy shaving rash, and acne certainly wasn't his best friend, and he was tall. Nico on the other hand was currently battling a heavy period making him feel like he was gonna vomit and the growth of two lumps on his chest he was binding tightly in the hope they wouldn't grow anymore or be noticeable.

Even most of the extra small clothes would be too big for him. Nothing in the adult men's department was going to fit him. He felt like everyone around him knew, like everybody was looking at him wondering what some little girl was doing there. "Will," he said quietly, dysphoria and anxiety spiking through the roof, "I need to get out of here…"

"Ah, shit, sure," Will said, hurrying Nico out of the store. He took him to a small café, ordering himself a milkshake. Nico opted for tea to calm his nerves. His dysphoria was bad, and he knew he'd need the bathroom soon to change pads, and he wasn't binding safely. Will didn't know yet, and Nico really wanted to confide in him. He'd been thinking about coming out to Will for a while now, and it clear Will was concerned about him. Nico felt comfortable around Will. He'd never come out to anyone at camp- Bianca had known, and his dad had figured it out. Of course, Nico was terrified to come out, but he knew Will would accept him.

"Hey, Will?" He began quietly, and the nerves washed over him in overwhelming waves. He almost backed out, but he reminded himself that things would be okay. "I have something I want to tell you."

"Is it that you stole my last cookie? Because you totally stole my last cookie."

"That was Kayla," Nico corrected quickly, and Will was probably about to shout out loud, but Nico quickly hurried out a small "it's serious."

Will instantly leaned forwards, giving a reassuring but concerned smile. He was glowing softly, comfortingly. "I'm here," he said softly, and Nico took a deep shaky breath.

"It's uh… something about me," he said, "something personal."

"It's okay," Will reassured softly, "I'm listening."

Nico didn't really know how to say it. He'd always imagined it would be such a long and personal conversation, but as soon as he mustered up the courage, it was only two words. "I'm trans…"

Will was silent for a while, and Nico began to panic, but Will wouldn't reject him, he highly doubted it. He knew Will was just trying to figure out how to respond out of respect and care. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to trust me with that," he said eventually, "is there anything in particular that I do that makes you feel uncomfortable that you need me to stop doing, or- or anything in general to avoid?"

"You haven't made me uncomfortable," Nico said, feeling more able to force the words out, "just uh… no feminine language, and don't draw attention to any feminine things unless it's y'know… period leakage or medical related. And uh… I don't want you to tell anyone at camp, I'm not ready and I don't feel safe enough."

"Of course, dude," Will reassured, "may I ask you something personal?"

"I trust you," Nico replied, and Will smiled softly, a dark amber hue seeping into his glow.

"I noticed we're always running low on ace bandages. Is that…. what you're using to um-"

"Bind," Nico filled in, before nodding.

"Would it be okay if I go buy you a sports bra so you don't have to and you go into the bathroom and put it on and take the bandages off? I know which boy's bathrooms have clean stalls and I'll come with you so you feel less scared. And uh- I know it won't squash you as much as you want, but I'll give you my jacket. Would that help? And when we get back to camp you can borrow my laptop in the infirmary and order a proper binder and measure yourself up properly."

"I'd really appreciate that, like… a lot… just don't get too flustered seeing lots of knickers and please don't get distracted trying bras on over your head. And uh… I don't feel comfortable in public bathrooms anyway, but I can't go into the men's room today, I uh… have bleeding."

"I would not!" Will protested, but his face said otherwise. "Anything I can do to help the dysphoria or hormones?"

"Just continue treating me like any other guy?"

"Of course," Will said softly.

"I don't think I can walk around for very long," Nico added after a comfortable silence, "my pain's getting to me."

"Wanna have a movie marathon in your cabin when we get back? I uh… I also kinda got you a birthday present I've been waiting to give you."

"Yeah," Nico blushed, "sounds great. So uh… you got me a gift?"

"Happy Birthday," Will said softly, handing over a small box. Nico opened it and almost bounced out of his seat- it was the latest mythomagic expansion pack he'd been saving up for.

"Are you serious," Nico grinned, "you got me mythomagic? Will!"

"I thought you might like them," Will said, "I was uh… kinda gonna take you on a date today but I chickened out on asking you properly."

"You wanted to go on a date? With- with me? But- I thought you liked Lou-Ellen?"

"Well yeah, but that was like- a year ago. And I'm not straight, I'm bi. As in girls and guys. Well- not just girls and guys but you get my point. And you're a guy who's um. Who's pretty handsome. So uh. Um. It's… it's totally cool if-"

"Dork," Nico interrupted with a smirk, "took you long enough to ask me."

"So uh- is that a yes?" Nico almost whacked him with a pillow, except he didn't have one. He felt confident and happy for once. It had been a good birthday.

@solangeloweek

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crazyclouds5281 · 4 years ago

Text

Code Olympus

Just an idea for a story. Takes much inspiration from the Webtoon Code Adam, drawn by Atterozen. (An interesting, and very relevant, piece of information is that, in real life, Code Adam is a protocol used to help locate and rescue missing children)

---

It all began when Athena fell in love with a scientist. He, like most of her other fare, was an intelligent blond man, with forest-green eyes, and a voracious need to know. He sought knowledge from all sources, often times going on benders across the internet or through libraries, looking for information on whatever topic he was studying at the time. Most of it focused on human biology, as that is what he researched, but occasionally, it was the oddest thing, such as the mating habits of goats.

They met in a small, niche cafe. Whenever she was feeling particularly restless, Athena would teleport herself to quiet little places like this, seeking conversation and companionship. Her attention was drawn to a man in a corner booth, reading a rather hefty book. A cup of coffee was in his hand, and a plate of pie was pushed off to the side, untouched and unnoticed. The man's lovely green eyes were flicking down the page at an incredible rate, and he was mumbling under his breath so fast, it was a miracle he could even breathe in. His dark-blond hair was shaved close to his scalp in a buzzcut. A white lab coat was slung over the backrest of his bench.

So involved was he in his reading, that he didn't even notice when Athena sat down across from him and ordered a cup of tea from the waitress. For a while, the goddess amused herself with watching the man, but by the time her tea was half-gone, she was feeling a bit impatient.

"Hello," Athena said, startling the man something horrible. He jolted so hard his knee slammed into the underside of the table, and he hissed. He glared at Athena. Now that he was looking up, she could see the dark bags under his eyes, as if he hardly slept.

"Can I help you?" he asked, deep voice rumbling in his chest. Up close, he was a rather physically imposing man. His jaw was square, facial features hard as stone. His shoulders were broad under his solid black button-up, the sleeves rolled back to unveil his thick forearms.

"Yes, perhaps you can," Athena mused demurely. "You see, I am in desperate need of intelligent conversation, and I was hoping you might be able to provide."

His expression went from angry to flat. "Unfortunately, I am a bit busy at the moment," he said, tapping his book with a thick index finger. "So unless you can explain the intricacies of genetic coding, I'm going to have to ask you to try someone else."

"I happen to be quite knowledgeable about many things."

"Is that so?" he asked skeptically.

"It is. You may quiz me, if you feel it necessary."

The man took that as the invitation it was, and launched a slew of questions, all of which Athena answered without fail. Lacking regular duties to attend to, such as the attention her Father needed to pay to his domain of the sky, the Goddess of Wisdom found herself with quite a bit of free time, which she usually spent reading. As you can imagine, one can read a significant amount in three thousand or so years.

At some point, the man's lips had quirked upwards with a smile. He was enjoying this just as much as Athena. "Well, seems like you weren't joking. I'm Edward Bennett. It's nice to meet you, Miss...?"

"Astrid Graves," she replied, making up the name on the spot. They shook hands over the table, and Edward glanced at his watch as he drew his hand back.

"Looks like my lunch break is over. I suppose I'll see you around, Miss Graves?"

"Here, tomorrow?"

"I can work with that."

---

Lunch breaks became dinner dates became nights spent together in a loving embrace (in Athena's mindscape, of course. She was still one of the three Virgin Goddesses). A few months later, they were in the place where it all started, when Athena dropped the bomb on Edward.

"I'm pregnant."

Edward blinked. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"...Huh."

His lack of reaction was a bit worrying. "Is that... Bad?" she asked nervously, a far cry from the immortal warrior she actually was.

The corner of his lip twisted downward. "Hard to say. I'm not really fit to be a father, and I can't afford to cut back on my time in the lab, or I'll lose out on... A good 90% of my grants. Sorry, Astrid, but until I can stabilize my position, you'll have to take care of the kid mostly on your own for now."

Athena nibbled on her lip, wondering how best to break the news to him. Edward was a sharp man, though, and quickly picked up on her unease.

"Not gonna work, huh?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee. He sighed. "Well, we can always hire a nanny or something. Unless you have family who'd be willing to help out a bit?"

Athena shook her head. "That's not the problem. I... Once the child is delivered, I will be forced to leave."

Edward raised a brow. "Forced? You're a grown woman, Astrid. Your parents can't legally make you do anything. They can't tell you not to have a child." It was a bit baffling to him, that such an independent woman was worried about something like this.

"That's not it." She breathed in deeply. "I won't be able to stay, because of the Ancient Laws."

Edward's confusion became more profound. "Ancient? What, like from the Paleozoic Era? he asked with a little chuckle. "C'mon, I've never heard of any law that says a woman has to leave just because she had a child out of wedlock. If you're that worried about it, then let's get married. Doesn't have to be a big ceremony- we can just hold a little celebration down at one of those halls, invite a few people, and call it a night."

Athena sighed. It was never easy to admit that she wasn't mortal to her lovers, because it marked the beginning of the end of their relationship. She'd found, over the years, that the best way to do it was to just rip the bandage off. "We can't get married, either, because I am a goddess."

Edward stared at Athena for a long, silent moment, before he blinked. "Is this- listen, Astrid, it's fine if you're one of those LARPers, or whatever, but if you're gonna do it, at least don't joke about being pregnant." He sounded a bit annoyed, and Athena frowned. The Goddess of Wisdom looked him straight in the eye and, using her divine powers, instilled the fact that what she was saying was the truth directly into his mind. Edward's head jerked back, shocked by the sudden intrusion, before he rubbed his temples. "Oh. Okay. Wow."

"Wow, indeed. As the Greek Goddess Athena, the Ancient Laws dictate that I, and the other gods, cannot stay with mortals for long periods of time, and we cannot, under any circumstances, interfere in the lives of our demigod children. The Heroes must be left to grow on their own."

"And, all these other Olympian gods, they just, what- go around, hooking up with people, and then leaving them with the children?"

"Not all. Artemis and Hestia have sworn to remain virgins, while Hera will never couple with a mortal. My Father, Zeus, and his brothers, Poseidon and Hades, have also sworn to no longer have demigod children."

Edward stared at her wide-eyed, astounded that she could possibly say something so insane with a straight face. "So, that's it? Here's a kid, have fun? I legitimately cannot take care of a child right now. Are you sure you can't stay for at least a few years, at least until I can get a stable job?"

Athena deflated. "I'm afraid I cannot. Should I linger more than a few days after the child's birth, the consequences will be most severe. Since I am a goddess, they will fall directly on our child."

Edward's gaze was boring a hole into the table. "Fine. Whatever. When's the kid due?"

"Next week. Pregnancy for a goddess is much quicker than a mortal woman." She also refrained from mentioning that the child would be popping out of her head. That was just a bit too much for the poor man.

Edward's glare hardened. "That's barely any time at all," he seethed, "What am I supposed to do about my job?"

"You're a smart man. I'm sure you'll figure something out," Athena said encouragingly. Unfortunately for her, it sounded rather patronizing to the man.

"Right," Edward hissed, standing abruptly. He pulled out his wallet and slapped a few bills on the table, barely bothering to count the amount. "I need time to think." With that, the man stormed out the cafe, leaving the pensive goddess to her own thoughts.

---

This is impossible. I need this job- I don't have time to take care of a friggin' kid! Crazy damned woman. How many other guys has she trapped like this? How many other people have the rest of her family trapped? So many people, raising a kid they can't take care of, just because some god or goddess wanted to mess around with one of us puny mortals. What a fucking mess...

Wait.

That bastard, Martin, said that as long as you can show something worthwhile, it doesn't matter how long you're in the lab. And, if you manage to start a project that generates enough interest from the higher-ups, you can pretty much retire and live off the royalties, even if you're a beginner. Would explain why I haven't seen him around since he invented a goddamn element.

How worthwhile would a demigod be?

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fanfic #code adam

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