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valdomarx · 4 years

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A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup.

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles.

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement.

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze.

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always.

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic.

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth.

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away.

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach.

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear.

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?”

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”

#this just in: i am secretly soft #squeezing this in before midnight #geraskier #lesdemonium #thank you for the prompt inspo!!#octoberfest #the witcher #my writing

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teawaffles · 3 years

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Louis and the Aquaria: Chapter 2

Two days after that. The normally-unused hall had undergone a complete transformation — and Fred was stunned.

“Wow……”

Sitting before him were three large water tanks, roughly five metres wide. Within each one were some aquatic plants, as well as 20 to 30 fish in a range of vibrant colours and distinctive appearances. They swam through the water, sometimes gracefully, sometimes powerfully — the beauty of the aquaria was simply overwhelming.

“What do you think, Fred?” asked Louis, as he walked up to him.

Without taking his gaze off the tanks, Fred shared his thoughts.

“I’ve never seen such beautiful fish. Are they all from other countries?”

“Indeed. Southeast Asia, Africa, and South America — I heard that they were collected from these three regions and brought here via special channels. There was a concern that the quality of our local water would not be suitable, hence even the water has been directly imported from their native rivers and lakes.”

“The scale here sure is different……”

Even the water that filled these tanks had been procured from the fishes’ native habitats: once again, the thoroughness of this endeavour left Fred in awe.

“I’m planning to bring in more of Herder’s equipment at a later date; but for now, all I can do is to watch over them like this…… Oh?”

Noticing something strange, Louis peered into one of the tanks.

Before his eyes, a small pufferfish was biting the fins of its tank mates. Looking at the other aquaria, it was clear that other tiny skirmishes had broken out.

Seeing the colourful fish engaged in unbecoming violence, Fred looked puzzled.

“It seems even fish need to be compatible with one another.”

“Indeed. It looks like it isn’t enough to simply divide them by their native regions.”

Hesitating a little, Louis slowly put his hand into the tank, and broke up the fishes’ fight as gently as possible. [1] Confirming that the conflict had been resolved for now, he breathed a sigh.

However, Fred spoke up in concern.

“If it’s already like this from the start, Mr Louis, then it looks like it’s going to be quite difficult for you.”

“Still, it must be done. ——For the sake of William’s plan.”

Hearing those words filled with conviction, once again, Fred could feel the strength of Louis’s emotions toward his brother.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Two days after the fish had moved into the mansion, the hall underwent another transformation.

The curtains had been drawn, and the entire room was dim. The large water tanks had been removed, and around twenty small aquaria were now lined up in their stead. Each tank was outfitted with the latest cutting-edge machinery to assist in the fishes’ upkeep.

In charge of their care, Louis quietly strolled among the tanks, scrutinising the fishes’ appearances one by one.

“Yo, Louis. How are they?”

Just as he’d completed his round of checks, Moran and Fred entered the hall.

Looking at his notes on the conditions of his charges, Louis answered in a businesslike manner.

“There are no problems at present. I’ve finally managed to understand their individual dispositions, hence their care should proceed more smoothly from here.”

“That’s great — though, it has gotten a little crowded in here.”

Moran looked around the room. Beside him, Fred was staring curiously at a device attached to the top of the tank.

“Is this machine necessary for taking care of them?”

“Yeah, it’s called a filter: it serves to improve the water quality,” Louis explained briefly.

In order to ensure he'd covered all bases, Louis spared no effort in his research, making detailed reports to Herder as he employed a variety of equipment in the fishes’ care.

Certainly, for the aquaria to be mechanised to such an extent, the level of technology required was several steps ahead of its time. To use such revolutionary technology for the sole purpose of rearing tropical fish: one could even call it extravagant.

As Moran watched the machines in operation, a dubious look crossed his face.

“These guys have been living in the wild up to this point, so it does feel a bit pitiful for them to be shut indoors all day. Why don’t you let them swim in the big pond outside once in a while?”

But Louis gently dismissed his proposal.

“I understand where you’re coming from; but we have to consider issues like how they would adapt to the water, and so I have refrained from doing that.”

“Then, at least bring the tanks outside so they can enjoy the sun.” 

“That can’t be done either. If the aquaria were to be placed under direct sunlight, there would be other problems such as algal growth and spikes in water temperature. Hence, the day-night cycle has been replicated using artificial light.”

“An artificial sun, huh. All thanks to the development of industry,” Moran muttered.

Louis turned his gaze toward the lights installed above the tanks.

“These incandescent bulbs and other electrical technologies are still yet to be widespread — one can really feel the portent of Mr Herder’s work.” [2] [3]

As the two men made small talk, Fred watched the fish in the aquaria, his face aglow.

Then, the door to the hall opened.

Rhythmic footsteps echoed, and in came William.

“Nii-san.”

Louis broke off his conversation with Moran, and turned to face his brother.

“How has your work been?”

“It’s going well. Once we convey to Stapleton that we’re keeping tropical fish, I’m sure his interest will be piqued.”

“That’s good to hear. I hope your contact with him will be a success.”

“Thank you. And I’m glad to see that the fish are doing well. As I thought, it was the right decision to entrust their care to you, Louis.”

“I owe that to both your and Mr Herder’s help.”

Even as his reply was modest, Louis puffed out his chest.

Watching how close the two brothers were, the elder Moran smiled. But as he looked at the aquaria again, a tiny doubt suddenly struck him.

“By the way, we’re keeping these fish so we can meet with this Stapleton guy, right? Then when that’s done, what’ll happen to them?”

Louis tilted his head slightly as he pondered.

“Well…… As far as I understood his nature, in all likelihood, he’ll want to take the fish. In that case, we’ll probably hand them all over to him.”

He’d said that with a straight face, and Moran was stunned.

“Really? Don’t you think we should keep at least one of these tanks in the mansion?”

“No, not at all. These fish were collected for the sole purpose of my brother’s plan — they are simply a means to an end, and I hold no greater affection for them beyond that.”

“I-I see……”

For Moran and Louis, even as they shared William’s ambitions as his comrades, they knew full well they were but one of his chess pieces: if he were to order them to die, they were prepared to lay down their lives at any moment.

These fish were also no more than tools — everyone in the room understood that. But upon hearing how bluntly Louis put it, the older man could not hide his astonishment.

Next to them, William glanced over the fish.

“Still, they do look rather healthy, swimming around like that. For one, the colours of these Puntius rhomboocellatus are rather vibrant.”

“Ah, so that’s their name? It’s quite a mouthful.”

What William had just mentioned was the scientific name of the fish. In the event that Louis was unable to care for the fish, Moran and Fred had also familiarised themselves with their names just in case; but since they felt rather formal, Moran didn’t use them very much.

At his brother’s satisfied expression, Louis beamed with joy.

“You have a wonderful eye for aesthetics, nii-san. Besides those, I would also recommend the Mikrogeophagus ramirezi.”

“Hm, they’re a beautiful shade of blue. Though I personally like the Neolamprologus brichardi over here as well.”

“I see. Then what do you think about the Julidochromis transcriptus and Pelvicachromis taeniatus? Both are from Africa too.”

“……You know, it’s great that you guys get along so well — but can we leave it at that?”

Moran’s eye twitched. But they ignored his puzzlement, and continued their jargon-filled exchange.

“Still, taking the practical view, I quite like these Corydoras paleatus for cleaning up remnants of food from the tank. On the other hand, these Laubuka dadiburjori will jump out of the aquaria if they’re left uncovered, and I had a hard time finding tank mates for the Boraras urophthalmoides.”

“Speaking of utility, Louis: I suppose you would fancy the algae-eating Siamese flying fox as well?”

“Fufu, you see through everything, nii-san. Oh, please look over here: the Nannostomus beckfordi are spreading their fins.” [4]

“——Stop! Stop! No more of that talk!”

Reaching the limit of his patience, Moran stepped between the two brothers, yanking them out of their own world.

Their conversation interrupted, Louis looked puzzled. “What’s the matter, Mr Moran? I was just about to show him the Triple Red Apistogramma cacatuoides.”

“You guys are getting completely carried away, and leaving the rest of us behind! And what’s with those bloody names? This isn’t some university lecture!”

Beside him, Fred was pointing at the fish one by one, murmuring the names that had come up in the brothers’ exchange. Clearly, he was making sure he remembered their names properly.

Quizzical, Louis responded. “They might be troublesome for you…… But my brothers and I memorised them in one shot.”

“Y-You’re kidding, right?” Moran paled.

“They really are on another level……”

Astonished, Fred also stopped what he was doing.

Hailing from a noble family, Moran himself was an Oxford graduate; in addition, Fred also possessed an above-average intellect. But when confronted with the intellectual abilities of the three Moriarty brothers, who were able to memorise such complex names in just one go, the two men were unable to hide their amazement.

“I mean, wouldn’t it be easier to give them nicknames instead?”

At Moran’s suggestion, Louis put a hand under his chin.

“Nicknames, hmm…… I haven’t had any problems so far, but giving them simpler names might be a good idea.”

“Right? It’s insufferable to have to listen to those curse-like words every time I come here.”

“Let’s try it then. But I will be rejecting any distasteful ones,” Louis quipped.

Moran looked around the room, his gaze landing on a tank with a school of guppies swimming within.

“Alright….. Then how about we call these ‘Fred’?”

Behind his glasses, Louis’s eyes widened.

“We’re giving them our own names?”

“It’s fine, innit? It’s a lot better than calling them ‘Mr Guppies’ or something.”

“It’s certainly easy to say—— But even so, why call the guppies Fred?”

“Because they’re small and agile, aren’t they?” Moran grinned.

Fred shot him a dubious look. “Is your reasoning that simple……?”

That logic did seem a little problematic; William, who’d been watching from the side, made a troubled face.

“Since you’re adept at disguising yourself, Fred: if we were to name a fish after you, it should something like a leaffish that uses mimicry. Moreover, guppies already have a rather simple name, so I don’t think it’s necessary to give them another one.”

“It’ll be fine — it’s best to go with your gut for such things. Anyway, it’s decided then: the guppies will be called ‘Fred’.”

It seemed that for once, Moran was unwilling to listen to William’s words.

Then, another aquarium caught his eye. Fascinated, he gazed at the sole inhabitant within.

“Ooh, this guy has the tank all to himself, eh? I like that feeling of aloofness — this one’s gonna be called ‘Moran’.”

The fish Moran had just given his own name to, was in fact the tiny pufferfish that had to be isolated on the very first day, after attacking the other fish.

“Ah, about that one……”

Louis did want to explain why the pufferfish was all alone; but seeing how excited Moran was, he hesitated.

However, Moran seemed to have taken that pause in a different light.

“Oi oi, did you like this one too? Sorry, but it’s first come first served — so I get to name him.”

“R-Right. If you’re fine with that one, then……”

Moran looked like he was really enjoying himself, and so Louis decided to keep his silence on the truth about Moran’s new namesake.

Along with Louis, Fred had also witnessed what the pufferfish did on the day it arrived. It pained him a little to see Moran blissfully unaware of that, and he looked away.

Then, a certain tank caught his eye.

“These are quite like Mr William and his brothers.”

“Eh?”

Intrigued, William and Louis followed his gaze.

Dancing before their eyes was a group of beautiful fish with an almost divine air around them — ones that could even be called kings of the aquarium.

“——Angelfish?”

Within the tank, three angelfish were swimming in close formation. They had glittering silver scales, with black stripes running vertically down their sides. That closeness truly reminded one of the Moriarty brothers, bound to one another with firm ties.

Their name brought to mind angels, and William could not help but chuckle in self-mockery.

“I think that’s the last thing we should ever be called.”

“Not at all. In a way, you three are angels — but more of the ones who sound the trumpets in the Book of Revelation.” [5]

At that ironic turn of phrase, William let out another meaningful laugh.

Beside them, with a somewhat absent-minded look, Louis admired the fish he’d grown so familiar with.

“Though, just as Fred said, their elegant appearance certainly befits both William and Albert nii-sama.”

“No need to be modest, Louis: you are just as noble as they are.”

“T-Thank you very much, nii-san.”

Louis turned a little pink at that. Looking at the three fish swimming together, Moran nodded enthusiastically.

“Then starting from the front of the group, their names will be ‘William’, ‘Albert’ and ‘Louis’.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing……” William smiled bashfully.

Moran walked away from the tank. “Both Louis and Fred agree with it, so it’ll be fine. Anyway, I’ll be off.”

“Eh? What about the rest?”

Fred called out to him just as he was about to leave the room, and Moran ruffled his hair as he replied.

“Now that I think about it, there’re just way too many of them. We’ve already named five of them after ourselves — that should be fine for now.”

“I guess……”

Faced with Moran’s overly freewheeling attitude, Fred was lost for words.

“…………”

Under normal circumstances, Louis would saddle Moran with some chores at this point. But his attention was still drawn to the tank with the angelfish.

He had yet to notice it himself; but their three names, now conferred onto those fish, had set off tiny ripples in his heart.

Footnotes:

T/N: Yuumori is set in the early 1880s — you can read more about that here.

[1] Yes, Louis did just put his hand into a tank with a pufferfish 😥

[2] Edison’s first light bulb had been invented less than ten years prior, and this used a carbon filament — tungsten filaments would not be developed until the early 1900s. (Wikipedia)

[3] At this time in history, electricity really was the preserve of the rich and few — even in 1919, only 6% of UK households had electricity (Science Museum UK). Interestingly, AC (alternating current) power systems were starting to be adopted in the UK around this period. (Wikipedia)

Aside: The ‘artificial sun’ gave me flashbacks to the manga Letter Bee… (Wikipedia)

[4] This is a form of threatening behaviour between fish.

[5] Moran is referring to the seven angels that blow trumpets to bring about seven cataclysmic events, as described in the New Testament (Wikipedia). Seraph of the End fans would be familiar with this one :3

Translator’s notes

Louis’s honorifics

I know I used “Louis-san” in the manga scanlation, but I’m just going to go with my gut and use “Mr Louis” here :x

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet

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tokyoimagines · 3 years

Text

✧ I’ll Always Take Care Of You ✧

❀ Summary: Megumi was hurt on his last mission so you took it in your own hands to take care of him!

❀ A/N: If I mix up the names I’m sorry, I watched Jujutsu Kaisen in three different languages and the names get mixed up a lot. I’m not a native English speaker speaker so there will be mistakes (feel free to correct me)

❀ Pairings: Megumi x Reader

❀ Warnings: Grammar Error / Fluff / Blood / Bad Language

❀ Published: 11.02.2021

❀ Words: 1.742

You couldn't believe it.

Megumi just came back from a mission that Gojo gave him a few days ago but he won’t let you allow see him. He came back a few hours ago and went straight to his room, not even looking you in the eyes. You just wanted to know if he was fine but he kept blocking every social interaction.

All you knew was that the mission included a grade 1 curse while Megumi was a grade 2 sorcerer so this shit didn’t even make sense. You were really worried, not knowing what happened.

“Megumi? Can I please come in?” it’s the fifth time now that you are were standing in front of his closed door. Shifting on your feet you waited quietly until you heard his stern voice replying. “No you can’t. Now please leave me alone.” Wow that hurt. A frustrated sigh leaving your mouth. Your best friend could be so stubborn its incredible.

Deciding if you should go to your room or just try again you saw Yuuji approaching you. “Yo!” he waved at you “He won’t let you in either?”

“No, I don’t know whats going on with him. So you also tried to talk too him?” you sigh, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. Looking at Yuuji you noticed that he also seemed kind of worried. You remember how happy he was when you first met him, this boy has definitely changed a lot.

“Well he told me to fuck off.” he said laughing. “HE SAID WHAT?”

Yuuji let out a loud laugh. “I guess he’s just really exhausted, we should give him a break and try again later” Thinking about what he just said you bit your lip. Maybe he was right and Megumi was just really tired. We’re probably just annoying him right now.

“You’re probably right. If he was really hurt he would have went to Shoko. I’ll look after him again in the evening.” you said in a monotone voice.

After the sun began to set you found yourself in the kitchen, brewing some soup. “If he won’t let me in this time I’ll pour this shit over his head!” you mumbled while stirring the soup. Grabbing a bowl of the freshly made soup you made your way to Megumis room again. Hesitantly you knocked on the door again. “Megumi? I made you some food. I haven’t seen you the whole day, you must be hungry…” You waited nervously, biting your lip.

What if I just woke him up? Oh shit this punk will kill me.

“Leave the food in front of the door, I’ll get it later.”

Wait? Is this idiot serious right now?

You couldn't remember the last time you were this angry at your best friend because this shit just reached a whole different level. “You know what? I give a shit if you don’t want anyone to see you. Get the fuck ready because I’m coming in now”

“Y/N I dare y-” You stepped into his room, making his words die on his lips. He was laying in his bed while holding an ice pack to his lips.

Walking over to his bed and putting the soup on his nightstand you could make out some bloody tissue papers in his trash bin.

Now inspectating his face more closely you were able to see a big cut over his eyebrow and a dark purple eye. Now grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand with the ice pack away from his face, revealing a bruised lips.

“You could have just told me you were hurt.” you pressed out quietly. “You should go to Shoko”

“It’s really not that bad” he mumbled, pressing the ice against his lip again.

“That bloody shit in your trash says otherwise.” you pointed at his trash bin. “I’ll be right back, just don’t run away.”

“Where do you think I would be going looking like th-” again he was cut off by you leaving his room.

A few seconds later you came back bursting into his room again, in your hand a little package.

“Okay I guess I’ve got everything I need. Can you sit up? And put that damn ice to the side.”

Megumi put the ice on his nightstand and sat himself on the edge of his bed looking around his room. He looked everywhere but definitely not at you. After you positioned yourself in front of him you grabbed his chin softly, not wanting to hurt him any further.

“You look like shit” you said while getting out the bandages and the alcohol.

“Yeah Sherlock you don’t say” you chuckled at his stupid remark.

Putting some alcohol on a cotton wrap you padded it on the cut over his eyebrow. This angle gave you a chance to have a better look at his eyes. They were so dark, almost like obsidian. They were so deep, you almost got lost into them but Megumis hissing made you snap back. Ah right, the alcohol.

“I’m sorry, does it hurt that bad?”

“No, its fine. Just hurry please” You nodded, putting the cotton wrap away and grabbing a big band aid to put it over the cut. “This should stop the blending for now.”

“Turn your head a little bit, I need to see how badly your lips look.”

He turned his head to the side. His lips where mostly bruised but you could make out a little cut.

I can’t really patch that up but I can at least disinfect it.

Grabbing your alcohol and cotton again, you began to press it on his lips.

“Sorry this must hurt a lot”

Megumi kept quiet and just looked at you. His stare made you nervous.

Damn this boy and his beautiful eyes.

“I guess that’s all I can do for now. Do you have any more cuts or bruises I should take a look at?”

you immediately regretted your question.

“I actually got some more wounds, but I guess I can take care of them myself, it’s fine.” Oh no. If I do my job I do it correctly.

“Can you at least show them to me so I can see how bad they are. They should not get infected, you know right?”

Megumi let out a loud sight. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. Damn it, I wasn’t expecting it to be on his rips. I thought they were on his arms or some shit like that. So this was the reason why he had troubles getting up. Makes sense now.

You immediately became flustered by the pure sight of his upper body. Luckily Megumi was busy trying to not look you in the eyes.

I have to touch him. Oh please no.

You quietly did your job of disinfecting and cleaning up his wounds. His skin was pale and cold to your touch. Your eyes staring right at his upper body, not daring to look him in the eyes for just one second. Megumi was just as nervous as you were but after some minutes of acting like all of this didn’t happen, he was able to look at you cleaning his wounds. How careful you were to not hurt him.

“Y/N?” he spoke softly. You instinctively looked up, becoming even more red.

“Thank you for doing this.” he said, still staring into your eyes.

You hectically looked away, fixing your eyes on his almost patched up wounds again.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always take care of you. No matter what.”

After you finished patching Megumi up, you packed your things together, strands of hair falling in your face. Megumi pulled his shirt over his head, being fully clothed again. The situation was awkward and even tho you really like Megumi, you wanted to get out of it.

“Guess my job is done here. Text me if you need something and I’ll come over. And eat your soup!” you said smiling at him, pointing at the soup that was still on his nightstand.

You were about to turn around, when Megumi spoke up.

“You know you could just stay here, then I don’t have to text you if I need something” he mumbled while scratching the back of his neck, not even looking you in the eyes.

You heart hammered so loud, you were scarred he would be able to hear it.

Was he serious? He wants me to stay with him over the night. This boy is joking right?

“Are your sure? Like… you want me here to stay?” you mumbled. Not really knowing what to say. You’ve gotten so nervous it’s getting ridiculous.

“Only if you want to, I thought that would be the better option” he shifted around, not knowing if what he said was wrong.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess that would be better.” you agreed by rapidly nodding, almost stumbling over your own words.

This was everything Megumi needed to hear. He lifted his blanked up to signalize you to get your ass into his bed.

Hesitantly you crawled into the bed, now laying next to him.

Megumi was laying on his back. You turned around to face him. “Can I….. you know. Can I maybe lay my hand there?” pointing at his stomach. You felt ashamed for asking to literally cuddle him, but you just couldn't help it.

Everyone can sleep better when they cuddle something, right?

Megumi looked at you, surprised that you even asked him that. “If it helps you sleep, sure.”

You slowly slit your hands up his stomach and rested it right under the wound you just patched up before. Curling into his side you breathed his scent in. He smelled so incredibly good, it gave you butterfly's in your belly.

“Am I not hurting you?” you asked, referring to the position you hand was in.

“You could never. Now go to sleep, you had a troublesome day with me acting like a completely asshole.” he chuckled, patting your head once, letting his hand rest on your back.

“I guess your right.” was all you where able to say, before slowly drifting off into a deep sleep.

Megumi watched you a bit longer, questioning how you both ended up like this. He always had liked you since he first laid his eyes on you. Seeing your sleeping form curled into him, made him realize how much he cared for you.

A/N

I hope you liked this imagine. If you know things I could do better, feel free to DM me. I always want to improve myself and my writing.

Have a nice day! ♡

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

27. Harry's dance partner

Prompt used- pulling the other one towards them | Harry and Draco take Dance lessons for the famous ball| this took me almost 3 hours, it's pretty long | thanks for all the love |

" honey, i know this invitation is important but my training right now is more important, i hope you understand harry. Please do take these lessons though, you really do suck. I'll try to come up " and with that ginny flooed for her practices,

" well i guess, i'll be on my own then " harry mumbled to himself as he dropped the leaflet on thr counter of the kitchen.

But harry was more afraid to go alone than doing the dance itself, the fact that he'd have to position his hand in the invisible air or dance with somebody else scared him, even if it actually wasn't scary at all. He could've asked ron to come with but with hermioone being his fiance now, he knew ron was much less likely to fuck up. That left him standing in front of the muggle dance studio, alone.

" um, excuse me i signed up lessons under the name of harry potter and ginny weasley, unfortunately my partner can't come, so i was wondering if you could cancel my registrations ' harry asked the boy sitting behind the counter

" may i ask why ?" the boy grinned

" there's some personal complications " harry replied fidgeting his fingers over his jacket's zipper.

" well, if that's the case . I can cancel the registrations-"

" thank you -"

" - but you won't be refunded " the boy added

" oh "

" do you still want me to cancel ?" the boy asked. Harry pondered on for a moment

" these are not that bad you know and there's plenty of available dance partners " the boy said as he read harry's face

" well- if thats- fine i'll do these classes " harry sighed giving up, not that he had much to do at weekends at home.

" well there you go then, that would be room 3 "the boy grinned. Harry exhaled before he made his way towards room no. 3 and softly opened it to see a bunch of people standing in couple and some talking in groups.

Harry oozed his way into the room and kept his jacket on the open shelf in the back of the room and rubbed his palms together in sheer nervousness.

" nervous ?" suddenly someone asked

" uh- yeah a little " harry replied to the girl who was keeping her bag in the shelf

" first timer ?" she asked with a smile

" yeah " harry answered, maybe he could ask her to be his partner but he obviously didn't wanted to seem too eager.

" it can be a little overwhelming at first but you'll settle in fine " she grinned

" i hope so "

" so who's your partner then ?" she asked placing her hands over her hips

" actually- " but he was cut off by the door opening and who seemed like an instructor walked in,

"alright everyone, i'm sarah and there's nothing more you need to know. lets begin with warm ups then " harry raised an eyebrow before he followed her command and repeated everything that everyone else did. It was a bit troublesome at first but once he got the hang of what everyone else was doing, his nervousness seemed to diminish, only until sarah spoke up again.

" okay, everyone line with partners now and we'll begin where we left off last time " sarah said in her normal raspy voice and everyone lined up except harry. He by now simply wanted to die out of second hand embarrassment as his cheeks tint up with a pink shade

And just then as if somebody controlling him from up above wasn't ready for him to die just yet made the door jerk open

" shit- sorry, i'm late " the guy almost tripped over his own shoe lace before he stumbled back to see everyone staring at him. Unfortunately because of crowding harry couldn't see who it was until the crowd had cleared up a bit and the guy walked to the back of the class.

" draco ?" harry gasped as soon as he laid his eyes upon the boy.

The guy seemed to hear harry's voice and immediately his eyes followed the propagation of sound, it was indeed him.

" enough, back to class " sarah rolled her eyes at everyone and the everybody hustled back into their positions.

" what are you doing here ?" draco whispered as he settled his jacket and shoes on the shelf in the back.

" training for ballet " harry rolled his eyes. Draco almost laughed out loud if it wasn't for harry nudging him not to.

" you two in the back, enough chit chat, partner up " sarah shouted at them. They both stared at her as if not believing with what she had said but if glares could kill, they'd be dead and they hustled together in strange union,

" now try to hear the rhythm of the song, the beats, the harmonies and let it flow in you. Let it take over your body, your soul, let it dance. Dance isn't just something you can do like cooking, its an art, if done wrong, would be a disaster, but if done right it'd be like van gogh's painting " sarah said as she moved through the class

" van who ?" draco whispered to harry

" van gogh, he was a really famous muggle artist " harry whispered back

They soon got carried into listening to sarah and everything was fine until they actually had to take positions

" i'm not going to be the follower " draco harshly whispered to harry

" well i am not going to be the follower either, you be it " harry whispered back.

" why should i be the follower ?" draco asked agressively whispering

" why should i ?" harry asked in the same tone as draco's

" would you two shut up, you tall one, be the lead and you be the follower " sarah ordered as she passed by them. Draco teased harry by sticking his tongue out to him. Rolling his eyes harry and him adjusted into the position, harry's hand resting over draco's waist and draco's hand resting over harry's shoulder and waist.

And as the song started playing, they fell into a pattern of harry stepping over draco's feets, draco harshly stumbling over harry and swearing at each other for being stupid.

" we must be looking daft " harry sighed as he carefully watched his feet

" ow, look up you idiot " draco bashed as Harry's head hit his chin

" well i can't look up and not step on your feet at the same time " harry mumbled

closing his eyes for a moment, draco sighed "okay, just look up at me, alright. We just need better coordination, that's all. You just keep looking up but be careful of how far your feets are from mine, just - well - just loosen up, you're too tensed "

harry blinked at draco " how do you know this ?"

" i've been taking these for a week now " draco truthfully said.

" so should i assume i'd see you at the ball ?" harry asked

" probably " draco hesistated

" why isn't your partner with you ?' draco asked before harry could reply

" yeah- ginny had to go for practices " harry replied looking down at his feet to avoid eye contact

" what about you?" he asked

" i don't have a date for the ball yet but i'm hoping to find one soon " draco answered

" how have you been practicing then ?" harry asked curiously as he let his body move unconsciously

" well I had a partner from other class until she sprained herself 2 days ago, so " Draco shrugged.

" so this will be it for today. Great work everybody. Some of you still need to work a lot on coordination of your body work but with practice you'll all be fine. Off you go then. Bye bye " Sarah announced.

" she reminds me of Ms. McGonagall " Draco Whispered to harry.

Chuckling Harry nodded" she was a feared woman "

And soon everyone started to depart the class.

" hey,Draco wanna catch a cup of coffee ? I know the best barista here ?" Harry asked casually.

Draco frowned in confusion for a moment

" only if you want. No pressure. I need caffeine, this was a bit stressing and I've got a stuff to get back to to and coffee,-"

" sure harry " Draco cut him off smiling.

Harry bobbed his head forward and collected his things.

" never thought I'd actually meet Draco malfoy at a Muggle dance studio taking lessons " Harry teased as they walked out of the doors

" you tell this to someone else and I'll cut your dick off " Draco threatened friendly

" sure malfoy-"

" Draco" he corrected

Harry blinked at him, taking a moment to understand why he corrected " of course "

And then they headed for coffee.

Within the next few days it became a ritual, dance classes, teasing, coffee. It didn't even take them time to become friend's and forget why had they hated each other in the first place. Harry would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being with Draco, he enjoyed it very much that he wanted to spend more of his time with him than anyone else. There was a strange understanding between them , a strange bond that felt as if they had known each other their whole life and it wasn't even surprising how easily they got along with each other.

And as time went on Ginny got more busy with practices and spent lesser time with Harry. In normal situation Harry would've hated how he felt to be left out but this time he had someone else to look forward to. For the first time he wasn't alone while Ginny was gone and he much appreciated it. He didn't felt as alone as he once had but it had resulted in huge amount of anxiety with different sort of insecurity, as though how he felt around Draco. He had never cheated on Ginny and he wouldn't do now but there was something with Draco,a spark that had long died with Ginny and him. But he assured himself everyday that It was just exciting to be with someone new after a long time.

And this assurance worked until one day when Ginny had returned from practices early and had agreed to go to the dance lesson with him.

" oh " Harry sounded disappointed

" I mean we paid for it, makes sense I should at least take one of the class " Ginny crossed her arms in front of her

" right- I hear you but I- I hurt myself " Harry suddenly said

" what ?" Ginny frowned

" I have a little twitch on my ankle from last practice. I didn't tell you Because I didn't wanted you to worry. I think it'd be better if we laid it off for today. We can go again someday " Harry said biting the inside of his cheeks

Ginny frowned at him until she sighed and dropped wanting to enquire him " well if it's bad, just tell me-"

" it's fine Ginny. Just a little twitch. Just don't wanna take risk. Know what, we should just rest today, watch a movie or something, order in tonight, how does that sound ?" Harry asked her eagerly

She sighed " well we both have been working off pretty hard the last few days and barely spent time together, so it doesn't seem such a bad idea "

" great, you select the movie, I'll get Blankets and something to eat " Harry kissed her cheek and immediately ran to the bedroom. As soon as he entered the bedroom, he pressed his back against the door and huffed, rubbing his hand over his face. He was disgusted In himself to know he had lied to Ginny when he could've easily asked her to come with, he didn't know why but he just did and he hated himself for lying to her. Not thinking much over it, Harry collected the blankets and stopped on his way to get things to eat and joined Ginny in the living room.

" you okay ?" He asked as he settled next to her. Broken out of her mind whirling thoughts, she grinned and nodded.

Halfway through the movie Harry knew what Ginny felt but he didn't say anything else. He didn't wanted to hurt her but had obliviously ended upon the path.

They didn't talk about anything but quidditch and his job until the day of the ball. Harry felt strange the whole day, as if the whole vibe was off, something was lingering heavily in the air but he was too afraid to ask anything. So they silently got ready and left for the ball.

The ball was extravagant with hundreds of witches and wizards, friends, families, children, everyone. It was a beautiful palace with light's hanging up in the air, elves on the door to welcome everyone, and beautiful entrance decorated with all sorts of flowers. It sure was a huge, expensive and friendly ball yet all harry felt was a strange feeling pulling him down that wasn't sadness.

" it's beautiful " Ginny said as they walked into the palace. Harry hummed in reply with a small smile.

Everything was nicely dealt with, people, food, speeches. The last thing was dance. And harry was scared to death about it. He hadn't danced with Ginny once and was sure to fuck it up and at this moment he only wished to meet the silver blonde head to seek assurance, to talk him through it.

" you seem lost Harry " Ginny finally said as they were stood against the bar.

" feel a little upset is all. You enjoying yourself ?" Harry asked

" yeah, the place is great. This dress however is extremely uncomfortable " Ginny rolled her eyes at her dress. Harry chuckled at his girlfriend's reaction, probably for the first time in a few days.

" shall we dance ?" Ginny asked soon after. Hesitantly, Harry nodded.

They stepped in the dance area with everyone else and bought themselves into position. Harry placed one of his hand over the small of her back and pulled her closer and other hand rested on her shoulder. Accordingly Ginny rested her hands over Harry.

And despite the fact that his beautiful, understanding, elegant girlfriend danced with him, his eyes only searched the room for his dance partner. He searched and searched until he felt Ginny place her head against Harry's chest.

" everything fine ?" He finally asked concerned.

She hummed in response but Harry knew better, she wasn't.

" Ginny, tell me " harry put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look upto him.

" do you love me Harry ?" Ginny finally asked as tears sparkled in her life eyes

" of course " Harry immediately replied

" no, Harry, do you really, really love me ? " Ginny asked again. Harry stared at her for a long moment, his movements dead. He wanted to tell her yes but his mouth had shut down, his brain had shut down, only his heart told him to follow the line of honesty.

" thought so " she said as she leaned again to hug him.

" is there someone else?" She whispered in his ear

" no, Gin, you know I'd never cheat on you. I'd never do that to you " Harry immediately replied.

" that's good to know " she sniffed against his shoulder. Harry shuddered a breath before he broke the hug and pulled her away from the crowd to the empty courtyard.

" I love you Ginny, I do -"

" just not the same way anymore?" She asked

Harry remained silent, did he ? He didn't know.

" do you still love me the same way Gin ?" Harry finally asked her.

And then they fell into silence, soft music pouring through their moment, the intensity of the melody changing with the way their conversation had taken a turn, the softness in the jazz with the deeper sound of piano, the song sounded softer.

" tell me ? Do you love me the same way you loved me when we first moved into the city or the same way you said you loved me on our first Christmas together or the first time you stayed over at my place ?" Harry asked her following his heart.

" I- Harry- the spark can't always stay alive " Ginny lightly protested

" is it so or this is just a way of consoling ourselves another year into thinking that we are meant to be together when you and I both know that we aren't " Harry softly said.

" so what, we just give up ?" Ginny snapped lightly. Harry's eyes softened and approached her further.

" do you think it's fair to both of us to tie ourselves into something like this ? Even if we continue on Ginny, you know where it'll end, I know you do. You saw it the day I lied to you. You know me better than anyone Ginny, you know you do, you just didn't-"

" wanted to believe it's true " Ginny huffed.

Harry took her hands in his own gently and kissed her knuckles

" it's not your fault alone, it's me too. Maybe if I hadn't been so busy with my DMLE investigations or if I had quit when I should've or if I had spent more time asking you what you like than telling you about my auror meetings, maybe we wouldn't had to face this day " Harry told her.

She looked at him longingly, knowing he was right " maybe if I hadn't spent so much time with my friends the field or in quidditch or talked more about us than matches, we'd had been fine " she sighed.

"so ?" Harry finally asked her after moments of steep silence.

" I can't believe we're ending this here, I mean out of all the nights, although a fancy place to break up " Ginny smirked. Harry chuckled.

He hugged her soothingly, kissing the top her head " I know Ginny, I know. We'll figure it out " Harry assured her. She hummed in the hug until finally she let go.

" I'll collect my things-"

" you keep the flat, I still have grimauld place. We don't have to deal with his right now. Let's just, maybe go and enjoy ourselves in there like friends " Harry told her.

" we would, if there wasn't Someone I know you have to meet. He's there " Ginny pointed behind him. Confused Harry followed her sight. Draco.

" how do you-"

" just like you said,I know you better than anyone else- I'll be fine. Go. I Want you to " Ginny assured him with a small smile.

" you sure you're fine?" Harry asked furrowing his eyebrows, concerned.

" trust me on day I'll be happy to have let you go. Now go, don't make him wait " Ginny smiled and pushed him back and started taking her steps back. Harry knew what she was doing but he knew Ginny, she wouldn't tell him how hurt she was, if it meant Harry could have something. And before Harry could've said anything else, she apparated away with a smile as if she had faded into the air.

Harry stood there watching the spot where she left off from as if he still hadn't processed what had happened but he had ultimately accept, Ginny was gone.

Harry finally turned around with a strange sadness, seeing Draco sitting there alone.

" where's your date ? " Harry asked as he walked over to Draco. It all seemed too fast, too fast yet everything so slow. Draco looked up to find Harry coming and sitting next to him .

" I never had a date in the first place " Draco truthfully replied.

" but you-"

" my dance partner was Astoria, she- she broke off with me during the first week of lesson's but I- well I was waiting one day she'd come back. The day I was late, I was actually not going to come but then I had came and met you and just like that you became a reason for me to attend those lessons. It all seems so fucked up, I mean I just had a break up few days before and then you, it all happened too fast but we-"

" we just clicked " Harry finished

" yeah" Draco agreed looking at him.

" you were waiting for her to show up tonight, weren't you ?" Harry asked

" yeah " Draco Answered as his lips pressed in a thin line.

" well " harry finally sighed after long moments of silence " we practiced the hell off with Sarah, we can't let that go to waste. So , Draco malfoy, dance with me " Harry said as he stood up and offered his hand

" but you- Ginny ?" Draco frowned

" we just broke up " Harry replied. Draco sympathetically stared at him until Harry jerked his hand forward for him to take and finally Draco did take it.

Taking the lead Draco pulled harry closer towards him until they were few inches apart.

" are we moving on too fast ?" Harry asked thoughtfully

" what if we're moving too slow ? Years late ?" Draco asked. Harry forced himself to look up at him, his body unconsciously dancing around Draco. That was the difference, he knew what he was doing with Ginny but right now, he seemed to flow into the music, he didn't need to know what he was doing, he Just knew.

" you've-?" But harry stopped

" people like us don't belong together Harry. I've liked you for ages but I had prepared myself ages ago for this to not happen but now that it is, I Don't-"

" don't want it to stop?" Harry asked

" yeah " Draco replied as he bored his eyes into that of Harry's.

Harry stared at him for longer than he thought he knew until they head heard fireworks go off, breaking them out of their trance.

" what now ?" Harry asked finally

" we finally be ourselves " Draco replied and another firework went off.

This is more platonic than romantic but I just needed somewhere Harry and Draco develops into something.

Requests open .

Day 26- after all this time, always the same |

Day 28- I'll catch you

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sickficsforthesoul · 3 years

Note

I’ve got a nice little prompt for you! (Actually two but I’ll put them in two separate asks).

This one is a character who may be out of your comfort zone but how about a sick Kuroo who has been sick for a while with what he thinks is something pretty mild so he takes a few days off but even though he’s not getting better he feels guilty about missing so much practice since he’s captain.

But then things go downhill and he gets a lot worse really fast.

Excited to see the things that come out of this blog!!

-Lu

Here's a surprise fic for you. I'm moving into my college dorm Sunday, so I'm writing as much as I can before then to make up for that and not posting much this week.

I hope I did Kuroo justice in this, so enjoy!

Captain Cat's Conundrum

Sick Kuroo and caretakers Kai and Yaku with a bit of Kenma for good measure

Word count: 2185 words

Tetsurou had a cold. He was curled up under heavy blankets in his bed, coughing, shivering, and aching for the past three days. Tetsurou had already missed the past three days of school and practice because his mother insisted that he rest and recover at home. Tetsurou knew she was right, and he also knew that going to school would spread his germs to other students. Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over missing so much practice. Yaku and Kai had brought his schoolwork along with updating him on the team’s progress, but Tetsurou wasn’t satisfied. He was the team captain! He should be at practice with his team, not sitting in bed with a little cold.

So Tetsurou had snuck out the next morning, creeping out of the house with his school supplies and volleyball bag before his mother came to check on him. His mother would kill him when he got home, but Tetsurou would deal with that later. Tetsurou jogged to school to avoid being late for morning practice. He stopped at the gym doors to catch his breath, coughing lightly to clear mucus from his throat. Once his throat was cleared, Tetsurou entered the gym with his usual grin.

“Hey guys,” Tetsurou called to his teammates.

“Kuroo!” Lev and Shibayama shouted happily.

“Took you long enough, Roosterhead,” Yaku teased while walking over to Tetsurou. “Any longer, and I was going to make myself captain instead.”

“Liberoes can’t be captains, Yaku,” Kai chided from the bench. “How are you, Kuroo? Are you feeling better?”

“Definitely,” Tetsurou grinned, “my mom was just overreacting. You know how she is.”

“That’s true,” Kenma said quietly from behind Tetsurou.

“Gah!” Tetsurou jumped at his best friend’s sudden appearance. “Don’t do that to me, Kenma,” Tetsurou coughed. “I’m an old man. My heart can only take so much shock, you know!”

“You’re not that old,” Kenma muttered as he pushed past Tetsurou to enter the gym.

Kai looked at Tetsurou with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? That cough didn’t sound good.”

“I’m fine,” Tetsurou reassured his friend. “The cough will go away on its own. Haven’t you ever had a cough after you had a cold for a while?”

“I suppose I have,” Kai said, but his face was still doubtful. “You’ll tell us if you start feeling sick, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. I’m not that dumb,” Tetsurou scoffed.

“I sure hope you’re not,” Yaku eyed Tetsurou suspiciously. “If you don’t tell us, I’ll kick your ass for lying to us.”

“So violent, Yakkun!” Tetsurou sighed dramatically. “This is why you’re the demon senpai. Even the devil himself is scared of you.”

Yaku launched himself at Tetsurou with a shriek of fury. Tetsurou laughed and dodged Yaku’s attack, but the libero didn’t give up, opting to chase Tetsurou around the gym instead. Kai awkwardly watched the duo for a few minutes before joining in the chase too to catch the troublesome third years (“Wait, guys! We have practice right now. You can’t just goof off the entire time! You’re setting a bad example for the others!”).

Tetsurou made it through morning practice and the first half of the day with no issue, but by lunch, certain problems were beginning to emerge. The first was Tetsurou’s ever-growing headache. It pounded in his temples throughout lunch, distracting him from his friends and food. The second was his cough. It was stronger than that morning, and Tetsurou was struggling to hide his coughing fits from the watchful eyes of Kai and Yaku. The final problem was the terribly uncomfortable combination of chills and aches wracking his body. Tetsurou’s muscles ached as his body shivered despite the fairly warm air around him.

Tetsurou stumbled through his afternoon classes, feigning attention to hide how sick he was feeling. Thankfully, Yaku and Kai weren’t in his afternoon classes to witness Tetsurou’s pitiful acting because Tetsurou was sure they would have dragged him home on the spot. But Tetsurou can’t let that happen. He has practice after school, and he was determined to make up for all that he’d missed in the past few days.

When classes finally end, Tetsurou walked leisurely to the gym for practice. He somehow was the first to arrive, so he began an easy warm-up. By the time he was finished, everyone else was in the gym warming up too. Tetsurou also felt slightly better, the ache in his muscles dulled by the adrenaline now in his system. The cough and headache still proved to be a problem, but Tetsurou had become much better at ignoring the headache and swallowing back coughs before they could escape. Even so, Yaku and Kai stared at him for a minute, both his friends suspicious of Tetsurou’s health. They only stopped when Coach Naoi fussed at them to warm up instead of standing around.

The rest of practice followed a similar pattern. No matter what Tetsurou was doing, Kai and Yaku were never far away, always watching for any cracks in their captain’s façade of good health. By the end of practice, Kai and Yaku were starting to think that they might have overreacted at morning practice. Tetsurou looked mostly fine all practice. Maybe his cheeks were a little flushed or his breathing a bit heavy, but that could easily be attributed to the amount of exercise he was doing.

Coach Nekomata was unusually spartan with his training throughout practice. So far, the team had done sprints, flying falls, receiving drills, and blocking drills all in the span of an hour and a half, so most of the team looked just as disheveled as Tetsurou by the end of practice. Coach Nekomata dismissed them a few minutes ago, but the third years and Kenma remained in the gym with the coaches. The third years were supposed to help clean up, and Kenma stayed because he always walked home with Tetsurou.

With everyone else gone, the coaches went to Nekomata’s office to get their things while the third years cleaned. Kai and Yaku got to work immediately, but Tetsurou lagged behind his friends. The adrenaline in his system was fading, and the aches and chills returned with a vengeance as Tetsurou’s head continued to throb. His lungs twinged uncomfortably, a cough building in his throat. Tetsurou tried to stifle it, but his body was done obeying him. Instead, a loud hacking cough escaped Tetsurou’s throat and echoed through the mostly empty gym.

Kai and Yaku whipped around to face their captain, shocked by the nasty cough, but Tetsurou wasn’t done. His abused lungs were tired of holding back, and his body spasmed with pain. Another cough tore out of Tetsurou’s throat, and then another. Coughs wracked Tetsurou’s shivering frame, and the boy fell to his knees as the coughing fit deprived his lungs of much-needed oxygen. Tetsurou’s head spun, his eyes foggy and unable to focus on anything.

Coughs continued to come. Tetsurou’s body was screaming for oxygen, but his lungs couldn’t calm down enough to let any air through. Tetsurou wheezed miserably, body shaking with strain and exhaustion. What the hell was happening? Tetsurou was fine that morning (well, maybe not that fine, but not this bad either), so how did he deteriorate so quickly? Tetsurou’s racing thoughts did nothing to ease the headache, and Tetsurou was sure that if he didn’t stop coughing soon, he might end up passed out on the gym floor.

Someone rubbed his back. Tetsurou lifted his heavy head to see Yaku carefully but firmly rubbing his back. The pressure helped Tetsurou focus and relax, causing his breathing speed to decrease and his coughs to lessen. Another hand came to rest on Tetsurou’s forehead (Kai’s, Tetsurou assumed), most likely taking his temperature. Tetsurou also saw Kenma walking toward him, holding Tetsurou’s water bottle. Kenma offered him the bottle, and Tetsurou took a small sip, hands still shaky and unsure. After a few sips, Yaku and Kai manhandled Tetsurou until he was sitting on his backside instead of his knees. Yaku and Kai looked at him sternly, and Tetsurou knew he was in very big trouble.

Surprisingly, Kai was the first one to speak. “Kuroo, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”

“I was feeling b-better during practice, so I d-didn’t think it was t-that bad,” Tetsurou muttered, his words broken up by coughs.

Yaku raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really, Roosterhead? That’s the best excuse you can come up with?”

“...Yes…?” Tetsurou said, though it sounded more like a question than an answer, even to his own ears.

“...You can tell us, Kuroo. We’re still your friends, even when you’re acting stupid.” Kenma leveled Tetsurou with a flat but stern gaze, and Tetsurou knew he had no choice but to explain.

“I feel bad, okay?!” Tetsurou snapped. “I’ve already missed three days of practice for a stupid cold, and I can’t miss any more practice, or I’ll get behind!”

“You can be such an idiot sometimes, Kuroo,” Yaku sighed, eyes oddly soft. “You’re allowed to miss practice when you’re sick. We know you wouldn’t skip practice, and no one wants your nasty germs in the gym anyway.”

“Yes, Kuroo,” Kai chimed in gently. “Our coaches aren’t so terrible that they’d make you practice while sick.”

“I know that,” Tetsurou sighed, “but it’s different for me. I’ve already missed too much, and I can’t stand missing any more practice!”

Kenma tilted his head lazily. “Why’s it different for you, Kuroo?” Kenma asked calmly.

“Because I’m the captain!” Tetsurou exclaimed, coughing as air caught in his lungs. “I can’t afford to slack off. I have to set a good example. I have to…” Tetsurou was crying at that point, exhaustion amplifying his emotions to an extreme level.

“Kuroo…” Kai whispered as he wrapped a sobbing Tetsurou in a delicate hug. “You are setting a good example. You’re a wonderful captain, and everyone on the team knows it.”

Yaku snuck into the hug too, squeezing Tetsurou with his warm, comforting arms. “Kai’s right, Kuroo. You’re a good captain. You know I’d kick your ass if you weren’t right?”

“Yes,�� Tetsurou mumbled through more tears.

“And since I haven’t kicked your ass, do you know what that means?” Yaku pressed as Tetsurou’s sobs become quiet.

“That I’m a good captain?” Tetsurou asked, voice rough from tears and coughs.

“Exactly,” Yaku smiled warmly. “You’re a very good captain, Kuroo, but do you know what else you are?”

“...An idiot?” Tetsurou guessed, reaching up to wipe away any remaining tears.

Yaku chuckled softly. “Got it in one. Now let’s get you home. I don’t think you have a cold anymore. Kai?”

“It seems more like the flu to me. That fever is far too high to be just a cold,” Kai agreed, helping Yaku pull Testurou off the gym floor. “What do you think, Kenma?”

“Flu, probably. His symptoms match pretty well,” Kenma answered, stepping back to give Kai and Yaku room to work. “He could have had a cold earlier and picked up a flu virus on top of that.”

“Man, Kuroo, your luck sucks!” Yaku snickered as he supported Tetsurou. “You’re lucky you didn’t pass out. Coach Naoi would have freaked out if he had to call an ambulance for you.”

“You’re so mean, Yaku,” Tetsurou whined with as much energy as he could muster. “No wonder Lev is so scared of you, you snarky little devil!”

“I’m not little!” Yaku huffed but continued to support Tetsurou to the door.

“You two are too much sometimes,” Kai sighed at their antics. “Kenma, can you show us where Kuroo lives?”

“Yeah. Follow me,” Kenma agreed easily. “Hey Kuroo, you know I’m gonna tell your mom everything, right?”

Tetsurou’s eyes widened in horror. “Kenma, you can’t! She’ll never let me live this down! Please don’t tell her. I’m begging you!”

Kenma giggled at Tetsurou’s uncharacteristic behavior. “But if I don’t tell her, then she’ll fuss at me. I don’t like to be fussed at, Kuroo.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Tetsurou begged. “Just don’t tell my mom!”

Kenma’s face twisted into a mirthful smirk. “Okay. We’ll have a Super Smash Bros. tournament as soon as you get better.”

Tetsurou’s face fell instantly. “Smash Bros? But I suck at that game!”

“I know,” Kenma nodded sagely. “Kai, Yaku, you guys can come too if you want.”

“Sounds good, Kenma. Let us know when you pick a date and time,” Kai smiled at the setter. Yaku snickered and nodded in agreement.

Tetsurou groaned inwardly. These people were really his friends, huh? But they were taking him home after he got sick, Tetsurou reasoned. They were also helping him walk, and Tetsurou had no doubt that they wouldn’t leave his house until they had him feed, in bed, and drugged up on flu medicine. They were kind and caring when they wanted to be, and Tetsurou appreciated all they were doing for him right now. Maybe his friends weren’t so bad after all.

(No, scratch that. They were making fun of him for maining Kirby in Smash now. They were definitely assholes.)

#sickiesoul writes #sickfic #fever #coughing #influenza #cold #kuroo tetsurou #kenma kozume #yaku morisuke #kai nobuyuki #haikyu!! whump #haikyu whump #haikyuu whump #haikyuu!!#anime whump

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glassworkspiderlilies · 3 years

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delinquency

Genshin Impact | @albelumiweek 2021 Day 6 | Promise | AO3 Summary: “Just promise me you will be careful,” he says, and Lumine smiles, squeezing his hands. Notes: *spins wheel* today we get a school AU, vaguely yandere albedo, and genki delinquent lumine. sure, why not. i have no control over anything. <3

“Lumine.”

She freezes in position, her arm half-wrapped, then turns around slowly, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Hi, ‘Bedo,” she says, hiding her arm behind her back in vain, but his expression doesn’t soften at the use of the nickname. “Is your class over already?”

“Yes.” His eyes flick over to the roll of bandages still in sight, then sets his books down and takes a seat across from her. “And you skipped again, I see.”

Albedo holds out his hand, and Lumine sighs before putting out her injured arm. He finishes the wrapping job for her, better than she could have done alone, and the tension eases out of her shoulders when she realizes he isn’t mad—at least not at her.

“The Fatui,” she explains, his silence questioning even if he hadn’t asked verbally. “Aether and Xiao got suspended for practically destroying the east wing, so…it’s just me. Well, and a few others, but they’ve got exams coming up.”

“You’re a target now,” he says, staring into her eyes. He has not released her hand yet, and she doesn’t pull back. “It’ll only get worse. Fights have always been part of this academy, but the one shouldering so many of them does not have to be you.”

She stares back, then gives him a sad sort of smile before she leans her forehead against his.

“It doesn’t, I guess,” she agrees, “But it is. Aether and I are the outsiders, and we have a bit of a reputation. You know what they call us, right? The Travelers. It’s probably the nicest moniker we’ve ever gotten, for being expelled out of so many schools. We’re just…a little too strange, and a little too good at fighting.”

Albedo frowns.

“You are hardly the strangest thing in Teyvat.”

“But if I weren’t, how could I have caught your eye?”

“…I like you more than just your being strange, you know.”

“You are sweet, Albedo.”

“Lumine.”

She laughs.

“I’m okay, really. Once Aether comes back, it’ll be easier. It’s a lot harder to get expelled here since they encourage so much…diverse development, and we have the Student Council backing us. And our patrons. Some of the fights aren’t so bad, really, I just…I’m not used to doing so much of it without Aether.”

Albedo hums.

“You could ask for my help.”

“No way. You’re in the crux of your thesis. I need to fight so you can research in peace.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’ve been extra reckless lately?”

Her eyes widen as she realizes her misstep. He looks smug at catching her so easily and neatly, and she huffs, blowing her bangs out of her face.

“I said I’m just not used to fighting without Aether.”

He cups her cheek, brushing a thumb over the bruise that is beginning to darken there.

“You don’t have to be the savior of Teyvat,” he says wryly, “We learn to work with…excessive distractions here, and my focus will not be broken so easily. You needn’t injure yourself on my account.”

“As much as I like you, it’s not only for you,” she says, just a little teasingly. But the humor fades as she frowns. “There’s…something else that’s going on behind the scenes. Aether and I have been asked to look into it.”

Albedo raises a brow, questioning, and Lumine sighs before she leans in and drops her voice to a whisper.

“The Archons, of the old Hidden Council—Teyvat’s patrons. There seems to be some kind of rift. You know Venti and Zhongli, the spokesmen for Barbatos and Rex Lapis? They’ve been targeted more than once. I don’t know who the others are, but…if it gets really bad, then it could affect the whole school.”

Albedo leans back, thinking.

“This is a lot for transfer students to get involved in.”

“But it’s precisely because we have no history with this place at all that we’re the best options.”

Albedo frowns again, but relents with another sigh. He is concerned, yes, but to hound her for situation that she does not entirely have control over would bring her undue stress, and she is under enough already, in her own way. He has to trust her, just as she does him.

“Just promise me you will be careful,” he says, and Lumine smiles, squeezing his hands.

“I promise. And I promise I will come to you for help if I really need it,” she tells him, and earns a smile in return.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Oh! One more thing.”

Lumine reaches into her bag, then pulls out an odd pointy blue object, putting it into Albedo’s hands. He looks closely at it, turning it over and analyzing its characteristics by habit.

“What’s this?”

“A tusk from an ancient whale, or something? You said that your project would be better supported if you had something like that to work with, right?”

He blinks at her.

“How…did you get this?”

Lumine twiddles her fingers.

“I…may have an arrangement with the Eleventh Harbinger…he has all these connections and if he wants to fight me every week, I should get something useful out of it when I win, right?”

She looks pleadingly at him as he stares at her in slight disbelief. He feels a mix of emotions—concern, again, that she made a bargain with a Harbinger, but also warmth, that she should remember such a passing mention during one of his long-winded musings.

In the end he laughs, deciding to simply marvel at her capabilities. She always manages to surprise him, in one way or another.

“Thank you,” he says, and is pleased when she beams at him.

A commotion outside draws their attention, and Albedo gathers up his books and the tusk into his bag while Lumine shrugs herself back into her leather jacket and swings her spiked baseball bat up onto her shoulder. She frowns when they peek outside, and the crowd that has gathered parts for her as she walks forward.

“Tartaglia,” she coos, though her eyes glint dangerously and her lips turn down, “I would have thought you’d still be recovering.”

“Oh, I am,” the boy in question says cheerfully, “You broke a rib, but I have high pain tolerance. Anyway, it turns out I got a double shipment by accident, so I thought I’d deliver it myself and catch sight of the genius prince you’re so intent on spoiling.”

The Harbinger’s eyes are searching as they light upon Albedo; he holds out the additional tusk like a peace offering, and Albedo accepts it gingerly while Lumine watches, poised to strike if she needs to.

“How apt,” Tartaglia says, after a moment. “But there’s more to you that meets the eye, isn’t there?”

Albedo shrugs, scrutinizing the second tusk to see if it differs at all from the first. Yes, there is a lighter luster to its center, and a slight nick on the left part of the calyx—

“A number of people call me a genius, but I don’t think I’m any such thing,” he replies evenly, but the other boy looks no less deterred.

“Oh, I think it’s more than that,” he says. Albedo looks up and raises a brow; Tartaglia holds up his hands with a chuckle when he feels the nails of Lumine’s bat poke into his throat. “Alright, alright. I’ve done what I came for, and neither of us are in the right condition for another confrontation.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lumine snorts, maintaining her position. “I may prefer you to the other Harbingers, but don’t push your luck.”

“Now that’s flattering,” Tartaglia purrs, as he backs up a few steps.

Lumine interposes herself in front of Albedo, planting her bat in the ground and standing defensively, glowering. Tartaglia chuckles and takes his leave—but turns back to throw one last look over his shoulder, one last quip prepared.

However—Lumine is momentarily distracted by Albedo peeling open a bandaid to stick to her cheek, turning her head towards him.

“Don’t move,” he says gently, keeping her head still with one hand. “Your hair was covering this before.”

She obeys, glaring at Tartaglia out of her corner of her eye when she notices him hanging back.

But the prince too is looking at the Harbinger, his gaze pointed and warning, eyes shadowed. His fingers are on Lumine’s cheek, where she had been scratched during their last battle.

“…Careful,” Albedo says quietly, his gaze still direct and unwavering, and Tartaglia’s lips quirk up at the mildly delivered threat. “If this gets to be too much, I might have to look into destroying a campus.”

“You’d definitely get expelled for that,” Lumine huffs, and Albedo chuckles, glancing back at her.

“That would be a problem, wouldn’t it? I suppose you’ll have to stop me if it comes to that.”

“It won’t,” Lumine says, raising a brow and crossing her arms. She hesitates before adding grudgingly, “…The Eleventh’s not that bad.”

“The other Fatui can be though…but we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” Albedo smiles, inclining his head towards Tartaglia. “My gratitude for your part in getting these rare research materials. I’d appreciate it if you continued to…play nice.”

Tartaglia grins as his skin prickles, and his eyes gleam with interest. But now isn’t the right time to test the prince’s mettle.

“It was nice meeting you,” The Harbinger says, his gaze lingering before he turns away, and Albedo waves while Lumine simply watches him go.

“You’re right. He really isn’t so bad,” Albedo says amiably, once the other boy has truly gone. “Even so…he’s liable to become troublesome.”

She gives him an amused smile.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she says, bumping him with her shoulder, “But if I come across something I can’t, you’ll be the first to know.”

Albedo smiles back, then catches her hand to press his lips against its back.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says.

They continue down the hall, the other students either staring in awe or darting out of the way.

The two carry on, unconcerned, as those likened to gods do.

#albelumiweek2021 #albelumi #genshin albedo #genshin lumine #genshin impact #fanfiction #the dictionary def of delinquency says minor crime #which albedo is also committing but no one knows or believes it #i don't think i've written genki lumine before #who are these kids?

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saffronwritings · 3 years

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C L U M S Y | S H I N S O U - P.2

S H I N S O U | P A R T T W O

[Part One]

C L U M Y M A S T E R L I S T

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: As of 4/22/21 I have updated the first part of this series for Shinsou, I made some adjustments as I noticed some bigger plot holes. Please go give that a read if you read the first part already before.

Shinsou had severely underestimated how hard Aizawa was going to be training him. Everyday it seemed like his body found new places to hurt and joints he didn’t know existed ached. After being pinned to the training mat once again, Shinsou let out a defeated sigh. “Get up.” Aizawa commanded him after releasing the hold he had on him, moving away from the defeated student. “You are never going to get better if you don’t train yourself at your fullest potential.” Aizawa spat at him harshly. “You won’t be able to protect citizens, colleagues, or even your loved ones if you just take the brunt force and never get back up.”

Shinsou laid there a moment more, thinking over his words. Shinsou didn’t really have friends, all besides that annoying blonde buzzing idiot in class 1A. They were mere acquaintances and Shinsou barely paid him any mind, however, the boy was surely convinced he was friends with Shinsou. That, and Shinsou didn’t really mind his presence all that much. After the sports festival, it seemed that Kaminari was determined to befriend Shinsou. Sitting with him during lunch period, finding him and bothering him while walking back to Heights Alliance after school. Eventually Shinsou caved and gave the energetic boy his number and he practically texted him every day. Being stupid memes or asking for help when mid-terms had come around.

When it came to family, he didn’t really rely on much from his deadbeat father and his emotionally distant mother. Even though he wanted nothing more to become a hero, did he even have the drive to save people he didn’t care about? That’s when his one and only motivator popped into his head. You. Through every hardship, every bully that had taunted him for his quirk, when he was put into the general studies class, even when he lost at the sports festival. You had always been there for him, and he would be damned to let you down.

Aizawa felt the shift in energy when Shinsou had risen from the matt. The boy looked beaten to hell and probably felt even worse. However, he got in the stance that Aizawa had taught him and readied himself for impact. “Are you sure you want to continue?” Aizawa asked with squinted eyes. It had only been a week, but Aizawa could tell the boy was getting worn down. He was not used to this kind of training, being a part of the general studies course. The boy had been done wrong when he had not been put in either Hero course, however, with his lack of drive up until recently, the boy had not put in any extra training himself.

“I’m more than sure.” He rasped out, his breathing uneasy but for once, his eyes filled with determination. “Let’s continue then.”

. . .

Aizawa had been summoned to this staff meeting by principal Nezu, along with a few of the other teachers that made up the staff of UA. He had sat himself next to Present Mic, even though he knew the repercussions of potentially sitting next to him. “How’s it hanging, Eraser Head?” The loud blonde shouted, gaining the attention of the rest of the faculty in the room. “Shut up, Mic.” He answered, rubbing his temples from the oncoming headache he felt building. Though, he really picked the only seat that wouldn’t drive him absolutely mad. There was an empty seat next to Midnight, and one next to Almight. He had to choose his battle of whether to be annoyed by Almight or Mic and the choice was easy.

Finally after what felt like a dragging twenty minutes, Principal Nezu had entered the room and the staff had quieted down. “Good afternoon, I am glad that all of you have joined me today. This meeting is about the potential moving of students from their current classes to either one of the hero courses.” Nezu stated, making Aizawa sigh in defeat. Great, another student for him to have to look after potentially. Didn’t he have to deal with enough with the troublesome class he already had? From villain attacks, to one of his students being kidnapped, it felt like Aizawa could not catch a break.

If he were lucky enough, the students would be advised to join Sekijiro’s class and leave Aizawa to just tend to the students he had. “However, as we know, most of the general studies students usually don’t get the hero training they need. So we need volunteers to mentor these select students and if their training proves their abilities to join one of the hero courses, we will place them in either class.” Nezu continued. There was no way that Aizawa was going to take on a mentor. He was already swamped with teaching his own class, having to watch over 1-A’s dorms over in Heights Alliance. Just the thought of taking on more work made Aizawa yawn.

Thankfully, throughout the slideshow that was presented on a projector, most of the students were taken on by other staff members. None had really caught Aizawa’s attention or really stood out to him. That is, until Shinsou Hitoshi had appeared on the screen. “The boy with the brain-washing quirk?” He overheard the other teachers whispering. He remembered him going against Midoriya in the sport festival and how much he had improved after. He trained minimally with his other classmates in the general studies class. Aizawa had kept his eye out for the boy. Not just from seeing him fight his own students in the sports festival, but also because if he was right, this was the boy that his own daughter was dating.

Aizawa quickly took out his phone and scrolled through him and his daughter’s messages. After scrolling through their many messages, he found the picture he was looking for. A picture of her and the boy sitting together in a grassy field, her smiling and him with a blank expression and a peace sign. He looked back and forth from the picture and the one on the overhead projector. That was definitely the boy that was seeing his dear daughter. Aizawa didn’t hear a word that Nezu was saying about the student. However, when Nezu asked if there were any available teachers willing to train the boy, the room was quiet.

That was, until Aizawa pushed his chair out with a dejected sigh and stood up with his hand raised. This made the other teachers stop talking and turn towards him. “I’ll take him on.” Aizawa said in a very even monotone. This was definitely a conflict of interest and if Nezu ever found out, then he would definitely be in a lot of trouble. However, if there was going to be anyone to train the boy who was seeing his daughter, it was going to be him. Making sure he was strong enough to always defend her.

“Are you sure, Mr. Aizawa? I know you are already preoccupied with your teachings of class 1A and watching over their dorms.” Nezu asked with an eyebrow quirked at him. “I’ve seen his potential. He needs a strict teacher to help him really use his quirk to its best extent. Plus, I could use a good mentoring session after having to deal with all the brats in 1-A.” Aizawa yawned, before sitting back down. Principal Nezu nodded his head in agreement. “Alright then! Mr. Aizawa will be mentoring young Shinsou Hitoshi. We have one more student left I’d like the remaining staff to take into consideration.” Nezu continued on.

Although, he knew that the staff room was still in shock that Aizawa had taken on a mentoring position. It had been a long time since Aizawa had taken on a mentor if he had at all. He couldn’t remember if he had. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Shouta Aizawa?” Present Mic whispered to him. “What are you babbling on about?” Aizawa asked in an annoyed tone. “I don’t think you have ever taken on a mentor. You always deny taking on any student since you see it as a waste of time.” Hizashi pushed, raising his eyebrow at the tired Aizawa. “Maybe it’s time to shake things up.” Aizawa said with a tone of sarcasm in his voice.

Except he was anything but joking. Hizashi wasn’t as dumb as he let on, and he knew Aizawa better than anyone in the room. He would later confront the tired teacher about the risks of taking on Shinsou as his mentor. However, Aizawa already knew these repercussions and even though his decision was hasty, he was set on his decision. The easiest part about hiding the fact that he was mentoring his daughter’s boyfriend, was the fact that he and his daughter did not share the same last name.

That and his daughter seemed to avoid telling people about him. It didn’t hurt him, he almost preferred it to be that way. Being a well-known Pro-Hero he always worried about the safety of his daughter. He was afraid of people using her to get close enough to hurt not only her, but him as well. He never wanted his fame to sway his daughter’s friendships or future relationships. He had joked about meeting this boyfriend of hers but at the same time, he was glad that she was taking her time with it.

Hizashi had once again warned Shota about how it could not only interfere with his teaching, but his relationship with his daughter. He knew his daughter would understand if he told her he was only training him to make him stronger for her. To have him be able to protect her in a way that Aizawa couldn’t. If it had ever become a subject of debate for them later, he would explain himself to her. He knew his relationship with his daughter was strong. However, he too worried that maybe this would eventually affect his relationship with her.

…

It had been a few weeks since the last time you had seen Hitoshi in person. You were happily cheering for him on the sidelines, but you were also missing him. The both of you knew that this wasn’t going to be an easy process for either of you. It felt like the relationship was growing very one sided to you, with the very little interaction he was giving you. The few texts that you received from the tired boy were good morning and good night texts, and occasionally asking you how school was going. You also didn’t want to be overly clingy and blow his phone up when you knew he was working hard. He had offhandedly mentioned how his training had been very intense and that he felt pain in joints he didn’t know existed.

You always encouraged him to take baths to help ease the pain he was feeling, or to make sure he was stretching properly. He made sure to let you know that he was doing everything properly, it was just a lot more work than he was used to. “I have a complete disadvantage of being so behind on both hero courses. My teacher is doing his best to make sure I’m prepared for when I get tested to potentially join one of the hero classes. It’s just tiring is all, but I promise you, I’m doing my best for both of us.” He had told you during one of your now rare video calls after his training.

Shinsou had known that he wasn’t being very active in chatting with you, and it tore him up inside, but he had to keep his focus on what he wanted. He wanted nothing more than to become a hero. The two of you had scheduled to see each other after school when you were both free. You sat patiently at the park you two had always met at. Swinging your feet anxiously on the bench, almost bouncing in excitement to see Hitoshi. You checked your phone for the time, noting that it was 3:15 p.m. and that you had been a bit early.

[3:15 p.m.] y/n: Hey Toshi! I’m in our usual meeting spot! I can’t wait to see you today :)

You quickly shot him the text, smiling like a dork to yourself. However, when a half an hour had passed and you hadn’t even heard from Hitoshi, you began to worry. A frown settled itself onto your face as you pulled up his contact information. You hit the call button and you were quickly sent to voicemail. You left a quick voicemail, saying you were just worried since he hadn’t texted you. You also decided to shoot him a text.

[3:45 p.m.] y/n: is everything okay?

You felt anxious with him leaving you by yourself at the park like this. He had always made sure to go straight from the UA campus to the park nearby to meet you. He hated leaving you by yourself with so much villainous activities going on as of lately, especially with the league of villains.

[4:05 p.m.] y/n: Toshi?

[4:30 p.m.] y/n: I’m heading to the train station, I don’t want to get stuck out in the dark.

You stared at your phone in disbelief that your boyfriend had stood you up as you tried one more time to reach Hitoshi, but once again you were sent to his voicemail. You didn’t bother leaving a voicemail this time and headed towards the train station. On the ride home from the park you couldn’t help but let a few tears escape, because you were extremely disappointed that even though the two of you had made plans, he had wound up standing you up.

When you arrived home, you went straight up to your room, not saying anything to your mother. You flopped on the bed and let the tears you were holding in out. This was a lot harder than you had originally anticipated, but you never thought he would ever stand you up. You sobbed into your pillow, feeling the hurt in your chest from being so let down by the boy you loved. Even though you know he would never do it on purpose, it didn’t make the sting hurt less.

You had fallen asleep shortly after letting your emotions out, skipping out on dinner. You were woken up by the sound of your phone vibrating loudly. Snapping out of your sleep-like state, you had hoped that it was Hitoshi, but a frown spread across your lips when you saw it was your dad. Sighing, you sat up and declined the call.

[9:03 p.m.] Y/N: sorry dad, i’m not feeling good. I'll video call you tomorrow after school?

[9:05 p.m.] Dad: hey kiddo, just checking in on you. I will call you when I’m done with my meeting after school, sound good?

[9:07 p.m.] Y/N: sure thing :) love you!

[9:10 p.m.] Dad: love you too kid

You flopped back onto your bed with a sigh, feeling more tired than usual. You had assumed it had been from you crying earlier. However, before you could lull yourself back to sleep, you felt your phone vibrating again.

[Incoming call: Hitoshi Shinsou]

You quickly hit the accept button and held the phone up to your ear. “Are you not in the mood to video chat?” Was the first thing out of Hitoshi’s mouth when you answered the phone. “I could do better without the attitude, Hitoshi.” You snapped back at him, anger forming in your chest. “I was calling to say goodnight, but if you’re going to yell at me then I guess I’ll just hang up.” His reply left you in shock. “What on earth is going on with you, ‘Toshi? First you completely blow me off today, you didn’t answer my calls or text messages, but when you call, it’s all attitude?” You finally snap, letting all the bottled up emotions you had been feeling today go.

“I got held up with my training-” Hitoshi started to say before you cut him off with a scoff. “Why am I not surprised.” You bitterly stated, trying to not let yourself cry again. You had been blatantly ignored for almost a whole month because of his training. “I’m trying my best here, Y/N.” He had said with what sounded like a frustrated tone. “Are you really? Because to me it feels completely one sided. I want to support you Hitoshi, and I’m trying so hard to keep it together!” You yelled, but before you could even continue he cut you off. “This doesn’t sound like you supporting me!” He yelled back. “You don’t know what it’s like to be pushed to your absolute limits day in and day out!”

“I get that this is hard for you Hitoshi-” “No! You obviously don’t. I had a feeling this was going to happen and that you weren’t going to support me the whole way through. I need to do this, and if I have to do it alone, then so be it.” Shinsou had snapped, making you freeze in your thoughts. “You don’t mean that.” You whispered, letting the tears fall down your face. “I can’t be hung up on making you happy when I have goals to achieve. We’re done.” Were the last words you heard him speak before he hung up on you. You sat there, completely and utterly in shock with what happened. You clenched your chest, feeling as if someone was ripping your heart out.

[9:15 p.m.] Y/N: You are such a selfish jerk, Shinsou.

[9:18 p.m.] Toshi: The destination number you are trying to reach is blocked from receiving this message. ## Error - 30004

…

Aizawa was already on high alert when you hadn’t answered his call the night before. You had always made time to chat with him, even on your worst days. For you to claim that you weren’t feeling good was an obvious lie that was making him feel on edge. His students could feel the difference in his attitude, as he was being much more stingy and strict than usual. His advice and criticism for his students was more harsh and louder. He tried to not let his personal life affect his work life, however, there was something that was bothering him about the whole situation.

He had managed to trudge through the whole day, but was determined to call you before he went to train with Shinsou. He dismissed his students and they left the classroom rather quickly, making comments on their teacher’s odd behavior today. Aizawa had pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a few deep breaths before reaching for his cellphone. He had looked to see he had a missed call from you and immediately dialed your number back.

“Hey kiddo, everything alright?” Aizawa asked as soon as you picked up the phone. “No.” You croaked out and immediately, Aizawa was on the defense. “Do I need to come pick you up from school?” He asked, ready to beat up any kid who had made you upset. “No. I’m just going through a lot of emotions today.” You told him, sniffling on your end of the phone. “Do you think we can do something together this weekend, if you aren’t working?” You asked sadly and he wanted nothing more than to drop everything he was doing to come to your aid.

However, he knew if he had abandoned his post at the Heights Alliance dorms he would never hear the end of it from Nezu. “Of course, we can go see a movie if you’d like.” He offered to you, and even though he couldn’t see you, he knew you were nodding. “What’s going on kid, talk to me.” He tried to push you into telling him what was wrong. “You don’t have to, I just want you to know I’m here for you.” He continued, trying to make you feel more comfortable.

Before you had responded to his question, Hizashi had opened his classroom door and was quickly met with a glare from Shota. “Your daughter?” Hizashi mouthed, nodding to the cellphone in his colleagues hand. Shota had nodded his head and turned his attention back to you. “Hitoshi and I got into a fight.” You started, making Shota stop breathing. “And I’m pretty sure he broke up with me last night over the phone.” You continued, sobbing into what he assumed was your hand. Hizashi had noticed the entire energy in the room shift.

“Dad, I need you to promise me you won’t do anything. I’m sure he’s just stressed.” You spoke up when you noticed your father had gone silent. “Okay. I promise. Look I have to get to my meeting, but I promise to call you after, okay?” He asked, gritting his teeth. “Okay, I love you.” You choked out, making his heart hurt hearing you so upset. “I love you too, get home safe.” He said before hanging up the phone. Aizawa took a deep breath before storming past Hizashi and headed towards the gym he was training Shinsou at. “Shota, I think you need to take a breather.” Hizashi had tried to say, warning him about what he was about might have consequences. Aizawa was seeing red and there was nothing that was going to stop him from reaching his target.

He whipped the door open to the gym and startled Shinsou greatly. He turned around and saw Aizawa, but noticed immediately the fowl mood that his teacher was in. “Uh, is everything okay, Aizawa-sensei?” Shinsou spoke up, but from the look on his teacher’s face he was going to regret asking. “No. Everything is not okay, but that is no longer your concern. I am revoking your transfer offer and cancelling your entrance exam for the chance to join the hero course.” Aizawa spoke quickly and furiously. The color had drained from Shinsou’s face, his eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what? But I’ve been working so hard!” Shinsou spoke up, obviously confused from the sudden remark his teacher made.

Aizawa had stalked over to Shinsou and backed him into a corner. “It doesn’t matter how hard you worked! If you think you can go and break my daughter’s heart without consequences then you are sorely mistaken. You are not the hero I thought you could be, especially for Y/N’s sake.” He yelled, making Shinsou stop breathing. Before Shinsou could make any plea to his teacher, Aizawa had walked out of the gym, leaving Shinsou completely shell-shocked.

“What have I done…”

(To be continued)

[Part Three]

#shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha shinsou x reader #mha #mha imagines #mha shinsou hitoshi #mha shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha #bnha shinsou hitoshi x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #saffronsmhafics

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whirlybirbs · 4 years

Photo

BEGIN AGAIN ---- i.

summary: after the events of the rise of skywalker, ben solo and rey of jakku make work on gathering and training the next generation of jedi on the planet of ajan kloss. you are a force-user from tattooine. there are two things you’re sure of: there’s much work to do, and you do not like jedi master ben solo. pairing: jedi master!ben solo x jedi!reader word count: 1.6k a/n: this is an au and does contain some spoilers for tros. anyways, i’ve been chipping away at this for a few days now -- merry christmas if you celebrate! if not, happy holidays! here’s my little gift to you.

If someone had asked you where you saw yourself in a year, you wouldn’t have answered, “on Ajan Kloss, of course, running the jungle training course blindfolded, being nipped in the heels by blaster fire from a rusted out JTR-47 droid”.

Certainly, you wouldn’t have explained that you, and many others, were a part of the first class of Jedi to be trained by the legendary Jedi Master Rey of Jakku and Ben Solo-Organa, ex-Sith lord and one of the last Skywalker’s.

But, here you are.

After all, everything changed on Exegol.

Everything.

And when Ben Solo and Rey limped from the carnage of the great hall, force dyad split wide open for the world to see like a raw wound, the war around them began its end in soul quaking violence. The two, bound by the running river of the force, witnessed the end of the Empire -- old and new -- from the cockpit of his Uncle’s old X-Wing.

It’s done.

In the silence of space, they find comfort.

Age old wounds finally begin to heal under the stars.

The war is won.

On Ajan Kloss, Ben Solo falls to his mother’s knees and weeps. Leia Organa cannot remember the last time she held her son -- and for a moment, the whole of the Resistance hangs on the reunion of the last Skywalkers, and the swing of emotions that rush between mother and son through a rekindled home in the lightside of the force.

Leia holds him and Ben smiles for the first time in years.

Everything is different; with the war won, with Palpatine gone...

There’s much work to be done.

Rey is as much his opposite as she is his right hand -- their dyad, though often annoying and terribly troublesome, allows him to have a true friend for the first time in... forever. She is, despite her polarity in approach and attitude, an important part of his life.

And without her, he’s not really sure if this whole rebuilding-the-Jedi-Order thing could happen.

It’s with R2′s help that they locate an age-old holocron buried deep in a temple on Yavin’s third moon -- the names of children who were once designated as ‘gifted’ by the Jedi Order lay in the record. It’s something. The archival piece is nearly rusted shut with age but opens with a delicate tinker when it passes into Ben’s hands.

It’s beautiful.

Pale blue light flickers awake the information inside, presenting a list of names -- a list of lives -- protected deep within the holocron’s humming databank.

When Rey, Ben, Fin and Poe return to Ajan Kloss, hopeful and excited about the prospect of finding others -- it’s with a mournful tone that Leia explains the systemic hunt the Empire conducted to snuff these children out.

“Many of them,” she says softly, “are gone.”

So, perhaps it’s pure chance they find you -- maybe it’s a cosmic happenstance granted by perfect timing and a straight shot in the dark.

Kau'i Koi -- Human -- 10 years old -- Location: Mos Espa, Tattooine.

Your chain code is old -- but places you in a small, old-Empire controlled mining town just outside the Western Dunes.

Ben is skeptical. He blames his dad -- that Solo trait runs through his blood more than anything, along with a bad habit of getting himself into things he can rarely get himself out of. It’s the temper. And off-putting sense of humor.

Whatever.

Ben has to duck when they enter the cantina. Rey is quick to bound ahead of him, leaving the Solo to tug at his poncho and pry the goggles from his face. The sand storm outside has finally started to die down, leaving Chewie looking rather windswept as he steps inside beside him; the Wookie gargles out a bitter complaint.

“No kidding,” Ben supplies, “Let’s hope we find who we’re looking for.”

God, he hates sand.

Shaking his boot, Ben trails Rey to the bar. She’s already chattering excitedly with the barman, eyes alight in that curious way -- the sand doesn’t bother her. Not in the slightest. In fact, she seems to relish in the Jakku-like atmosphere of the desert planet.

“We’re looking for a Kau’i Koi?” she asks, leaning in on her elbows, “Do you know where we can find them?”

“Koi’s been dead a long time,” is the gruff retort she gets. Immediately, the Jedi’s posture sags and Ben sighs, “But her daughter’s around --”

“Daughter?”

“Yeah,” one of his four hands tosses the bar rag over his shoulder, “She runs her Ma’s medicinal shop now. Kid’s got a good hand at elixirs...”

Rey blinks. Ben, narrowing his eyes, tosses five credits on the bar. “And?”

The bar-tender spares a quick look around, leans in and takes the bribe before saying: “Rumor has it, she’s got some Force mumbo-jumbo goin’ on. Buddy a’ mine jacked up his shoulder in a pod-racing accident -- Koi’s kid just...”

He snaps.

“Good as new.”

And that’s how they found you -- wrist deep in an old text about the distilling of certain Felcuian herbs that allows for maximized healing potency. The book, though, is quickly forgotten in exchange for a weary sense of confusion that follows the two people and the Wookie into your cozy, small shop.

“Can I help you?”

You stand, dark root-died robes tied close to your waist. Your tanned, Dewback hide boots mute your movements as you weave through the mud hut.

The first thing Ben Solo realizes is that you’re beautiful. Truly.

(You must be about his age, if not a year or two his younger. There’s something about the quiet calm in your voice -- you hold an air of posture and regality and kindness that falls short on him. You move, too, like a whisper in the wind. You’re quick, a bit like Rey, and far his opposite as he ducks below trinkets daring to clock in him in the forehead.)

The second thing Ben Solo realizes is that you’re dangerous.

Your eyes fall on the lightsabers holstered on either of the hips the moment Rey asks if you’re Kau’i’s daughter. You remember, in that moment, the warnings your mother had nursed you on.

There are people in this world that want you dead for the gift you’ve been given, sweet one. Protect yourself and that gift.

In one swoop, you’ve got a knife to the neck of Ben Solo and a hand raised, stopping the woman with the three buns in her tracks. The Wookie, hurriedly, raises his furry fists in surrender.

The women grits her teeth, muscles locked in a tumultuous state thanks to the force seizing them entirely. Ben is quick to note the control you have over your powers. The knife digs in a bit too much and he winces.

“Who are you?” you ask quickly, calm lost for a terrified look.

Ben raises his hands. “Jedi.”

The first thing you realize about Ben Solo is that he’s handsome. In a rugged, roguish, distrusting sort of way.

You decide, quickly, you don’t like him.

“There are no Jedi,” you spit, grip tightening on the woman as she writhes -- your attention is on the man, with dark eyes and long legs and a handsome face, “The Empire came and killed them. What they left, the First Order finished.”

Rey winces.

“Is that... Is that what happened to your mother?”

We’re not here to hurt you.

Like a rush of cold water, you feel the pass of something along your mind’s consciousness. It’s enough of a distraction to break your hold on the woman who asked -- and it leaves you treading in a sea of panic. It’s an intrusion; a rude prodding of your memories and thoughts that comes like a sideswipe of a pod-racer.

Rey falls to the floor and Ben pushes the blade from his throat.

You step back and raise the knife. Your hands tremble.

“... How do you know about my mother?” you whisper.

"Ben,” she says, “The holocron.”

“... A holocron?”

The tall man digs it from his bag -- the moment it falls into your fingers, the delicate blue crystals interlock backwards, gilded edges rusted from years of hiding away in from age-old temple revealing a data-sequence. A list of names. And your mother’s lay there, highlighted alongside her chain code.

“Only a force user can open it,” says the man -- the one you understand to be Ben -- rather quietly.

You blink. Immediately, the bridge between yourself and the force closes and the holocron snaps shut.

You shove it back his way.

“What do you want?”

That’s when Rey smiles.

And that’s how you find yourself here, six months later, running head on into a thousand year old S’pio tree. The impact itself renders the younglings amused -- the gaggle of them lingering by the upper platform dissolve into laughter as you grip your ribs and groan, rolling into the brush as you swat at the JTR-47 droid nagging at your head incessantly.

“Koi!” it’s a fast bark of your mother’s surname that gathers the attention of everyone on the training course. It comes from Master Ben Solo, swathed in dark robes and perched on the top platform. “Begin again!”

Gritting your teeth and baring the annoyance, you tug the blindfold off your face and begin the hike back to the start of the course.

There’s much work to be done.

And you still don’t like Ben Solo.

#star wars imagine #ben solo imagine #ben solo reader insert #ben solo x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #rise of skywalker imagine #WOOHOOOO i wrote

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uchihasakurawrites · 4 years

Text

Of T-Shirts and Monsoons

Rating: T for language

Summary: In which Sasuke proposes to a fuming Sakura in a cave in the middle of Rain.

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hello everyone! It’s been about seven years since I last wrote for this fandom (or wrote creatively at all, really). This random idea popped into my head while I was watching old SasuSaku AMVs, and I just thought I’d go for it! I have a few ideas for longer SasuSaku fics, so I wanted to test out a few drabbles/oneshots to shake off some of the rust since it’s been a while. Let me know what you think! Also feel free to send prompts my way. This was done in about an hour, but I hope you enjoy~

Cross posted on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

___________________________________

Sakura was fuming as she stomped into the cave, ignoring Sasuke’s wary gaze as she slung her pack to the ground with enough force to create fine cracks in the stone beneath it. She stripped out of her blood-and-rain soaked jonin vest and tossed it equally as haphazardly to the side, not sparing a glance to where it landed with a decided thwack. Sasuke rubbed the bridge of his nose and made quick work of using a small katon to set a small fire in the back of the cave. Typically, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of attracting unwanted attention, but he figured the benefits of not having to deal with an angry and cold Sakura were decidedly worth dispatching any rogues that were foolish enough to have followed them. Not that he and Sakura had left any of the nin in a state to pursue them, he thought with a smirk.

“Stupid Rain with it’s stupid freak monsoons and stupid rogue nin who ambush anything that fucking moves through their ‘territory.’ Sure, take out the fact that you’re bored in a time of peace out on civilians who can’t fight back.”

The clang of Sakura’s weapons pouch against the cave wall punctuated her impatience with the recent trend of rogue bands staking claim to smaller civilian towns and merchant paths. They’d managed to defend three different merchant caravans and liberated two villages from rogues in the past month and a half alone. She didn’t mind helping the civilians, of course, but why couldn’t these rogues get it through their skulls that this was peace time? She just wanted a little peace, dammit!

Sasuke crouched down next to his own pack to dig out a spare change of clothes. After just over a year and a half of traveling together, he was more than used to Sakura’s flinty temper and knew she would tire herself out soon. Best to keep out of it.

Sakura dropped to the ground to hunt for a clean shirt of her own. She pulled out shirt after shirt, noting with growing frustration that each was either covered in blood, lacerations, or sand. If she ever saw another grain of sand, it would be far too soon. A growl tore from the back of her throat.

“Stupid Suna with it’s stupid sand. Why the hell can’t some other village have poison experts so I don’t have to trudge through the damned desert just to collaborate on our new Inter-Village Poison Center? Who the fuck even came up with that idea?” Sasuke sent her a pointed look, knowing full well that she had fully supported Shizune’s initiative, which Sakura missed. “And why the hell can’t an epidemic break out in, I don’t know, the Land of Tea and not the middle of fucking Rain? At least then-”

Sakura nearly choked when she glanced up just in time to see Sasuke pull off his rain-soaked shirt and wring it out. No matter how long they spent together or how intimate they became, Sakura’s mind never failed to short-circuit at the sight of Sasuke’s bare skin. It didn’t matter where or how much - one glimpse, and her mind checked out. Although he would never express it outright, Sakura surmised that Sasuke knew exactly what his body did to her and used it to his advantage - say, when he was trying to distract her from a particularly troublesome conversation or train of thought.

It worked more often then she cared to admit.

Her sharp eyes caught the way Sasuke shifted his weight away from his left side as he moved to pull on a fresh shirt - crisp black with the Uchiha fan emblazoned proudly on the back. After a brief moment admiring his figure before it was hidden by the fabric, Sakura frowned at the inflammation beginning to flare up around his ankle. She cleared her throat and motioned for him to come over, tirade momentarily forgotten. Kami knows Sasuke would never admit that he had lost his footing for a moment during their earlier confrontation, unused to fighting on branches that had been rotted through from near-constant rain, and actually ask her to heal him. He’d become much more willing to allow her to heal him after a particularly difficult fight, but it was rare for him to outright ask for her assistance. She usually offered before he needed to.

She met his withering look with a hard gaze of her own.

“You,” she jabbed a finger in his direction, and he raised a brow, “stop being a stubborn ass and sit.” She motioned to the spot next to her with a touch more force than necessary. Sasuke didn’t budge and continued to ruffle through his pack. Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

“Sasuke-kun, --”

With a sigh, Sasuke fixed Sakura with a stern look and tossed her one of his extra shirts before coming to sit next to her. Laying a hand on Sakura’s shoulder, he formed the tiger seal to send a small katon over her skin to dry off the remnants of water that clung to her skin and hair. His jaw tightened at the blue-purple tint her lips had begun to take in the chill. A smile worked its way onto Sakura’s face when she realized the telltale signs of concern in his posture as he hovered near her.

“Change, Sakura. Then heal.”

His gaze dropped pointedly below her chin, and Sakura’s cheeks heated as she followed his eyes and realized her state of undress. Over the course of her rant, she had stripped down to her chest bindings and fitted shorts. Although Sasuke had seen her in far less, embarrassment washed through her as she scrambled to unfold the shirt he had tossed to her.

Her demeanor shifted when she went to slip it on. Sasuke glanced over when he felt Sakura stiffen at his side, brow furrowing when he noted the pensive look on Sakura’s features. Her eyes, previously a battle-worn seafoam green, took on a deeper, more thoughtful jade. She snagged her lip between her teeth, and Sasuke glanced down to see her fingers gently tracing the outline of the Uchiha fan printed on the back of the shirt.

Spine going rigid, Sasuke wracked his brain for the other instances Sakura had borrowed clothes from his pack - a shirt here, a poncho there. Her hands-on approach to fighting combined with the blood, bile, and poison that came with being a medic meant that her clothes tended to ruin more quickly than his. The sight of her rummaging through his pack for a spare change of clothes was a familiar one. What he hadn’t noticed, however, was that Sakura was always careful to select one of the few articles of clothing he carried that didn’t carry his clan’s symbol. He kept a few basics on hand just in case they needed to be incognito through a town that was still hostile towards the Leaf.

His mind jumped to the easiest explanation he could think of for her hesitation: she was ashamed. Not that he blamed her for wanting to distance herself from his clan’s marred legacy, but the very thought lit a fire in his veins that had him pulling away from her. Anger and bitterness combined with a pang of disappointment that he didn’t particularly want to address.

Sakura started, broken from her thoughts as she took note of Sasuke’s sudden change in demeanor. It was a testament to the time she had spent becoming attuned to the small giveaways of Sasuke’s emotions that she pieced two-and-two together. His flinty eyes shifted between the shirt in her hands and the cave wall as he refused to look at her.

With another quiet smile, Sakura carefully folded the shirt, laid it on top of her pack, and moved to stand next to Sasuke. She could feel some of the tension leave him when her shoulder brushed his, but his eyes remained stony.

“Sasuke-kun.” She waited for a moment before his gaze flickered down to hers, hoping that the softness in her own gaze would convey whatever she wasn’t able to in words. She placed a gentle hand on his bicep, hoping to ground him as she mulled over her words. Talking about the Uchiha Clan with Sasuke took a delicate touch, a touch she had learned after a short but explosive period of trial and error.

“Sasuke-kun, your clan’s history has nothing to do with why I won’t wear the Uchiha fan. Your legacy is a part of you, and I love you. All of you. Even the darkest parts that you don’t think love can reach. You know I’m damn persistent, and if I can wait this long to get you to accept that I love you, then I can wait as long as you need me to before you accept that that includes everything about you.”

She took a deep breath, averting her own eyes now that he had fixed her with an unreadable gaze of his own.

“Even if you won’t outright admit it, I know that your clan is precious to you. I’ve watched you carve the clan’s symbol into your kunai every time you replenish your stock. And I’m not an Uchiha, Sasuke-kun, so wearing the clan’s symbol - even casually like this, just feels like I’m not giving it the honor it deserves.”

Silence. Sakura was used to silence from Sasuke, and had learned how to interpret his different silences. There were the more distraught, brooding ones that required a bright, calming touch and the occasional pouty silence after she had smiled just a touch too openly at a flirty cashier; the explosive silences that she usually drew him into a spar during to release some energy and the frustrated, yet concerned silence when he thought she was too reckless in a battle.

This seemed to be one of his thoughtful silences - one that she didn’t feel she should interrupt. Noting with no small amount of satisfaction that most of the rigidity had melted away from his body, Sakura moved to turn back towards her pack.

“As for clothes, I’m sure I can put together something for tonight, so don’t worry about me. I’m pretty sure there’s a little merchant town not to far from here that we can stop by tomorrow to stock up on some new -”

Sakura swallowed her words as a cool hand enclosed her wrist and tugged her back. Her eyes widened when she found herself pressed to Sasuke’s chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her back. While Sakura was no stranger to small acts of affection from Sasuke - a forehead poke here and a sleepy arm around her waist there - it was incredibly rare for him to initiate a hug. In fact, she was pretty sure she could count the number of times he had hugged her on one hand.

“Sa-Sasuke-kun?”

He huffed into her hair, something between a laugh or a sigh - she couldn’t quite tell. So she simply decided to remain quiet, tracing her fingertips along his back as she waited for him to voice his thoughts. She swore Sasuke Uchiha was going to be the death of her when he spoke again and she quite literally choked.

“Marry me.”

The words were so quiet that Sakura nearly convinced herself that they were a figment of her imagination. A statement, not a request. She pulled back slightly, wide eyes meeting Sasuke’s steady gaze.

“W-What?”

Sakura winced as soon as she asked the question, knowing Sasuke loathed repeating himself (though it was a well-kept secret that Sasuke didn’t mind repeating himself for her and her alone). But surely he couldn’t hold it against her given the situation. He simply sighed at her request, arching a brow that said he knew that she had clearly heard him yet repeated himself anyways.

“Marry me and wear the damn shirt, Sakura.”

When she continued to stand in front of him with nothing more than a shocked stare, Sasuke huffed again and half-rolled his eyes in a rare display of amusement. Tonight seemed to be a night for rare occasions, it seemed.

Sidestepping Sakura’s frozen form, he retrieved his spare shirt from its place on Sakura’s pack, unfolded it, and gently worked it over her head. A warm glow replaced the earlier fire in his veins as Sakura came to and allowed her arms to be guided into the shirt’s sleeves.

Sasuke spent a minute admiring the fan on her back, pride burning in his chest at the thought of Sakura as the Uchiha matriarch. A small part of him idly wondered if his mother would be pleased to see her position passed on to Sakura. He liked to think she would.

Sakura turned towards him, feeling a tug in her chest at the vulnerability in Sasuke’s expression. She wasn’t sure what kind of proposal she had expected from Sasuke - hell, she hadn’t even been certain she should expect one at all. At least, not for a while. She certainly hadn’t imagined one of the happiest moments of her life to come in the middle of a freezing cave in Rain after treating a minor epidemic, getting ambushed by a plucky squad of overambitious rogue nin, and nearly drowning in a monsoon.

So yes, she hadn’t expected a proposal to come in this type of situation, but she had known her answer to this question for nearly a decade.

“Yes.”

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku proposal #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #naruto fanfiction #sasusaku blank period #blank period fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic

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childrenofmeyneth · 3 years

Text

Light Within Each and Every Person Ch 1

Chapter 1 of a new small fic! Check the Ao3 link to see art by @bionisinterior for it!

Meyneth’s Monado is no longer in her hands, Meyneth is pulling away from her body. Meyneth is going to die. She’s going to die and all Fiora can do is stare up and beg her not to do it.

She feels like her life is flashing before her eyes.

Meeting Shulk when they were both so young, fighting Reyn and running away when she began to lose, making the choice to get into the mobile artillery.

Attacking Metal Face (it had been Mumkhar, how had she not realized it was Mumkhar), being stabbed through and the darkness that followed, being torn to shreds by Mechon.

Waking up and unable to control her body (watching Meyneth, not knowing it was Meyneth, using her body), begging Meyneth to save Shulk and everyone else, falling so far -- down to the endless sea.

Finally waking up to see Shulk -- so relieved she was back, sitting in Linada’s medbay as she realizes her body can’t survive for long, looking up at Mechonis and feeling a connection she didn’t used to have.

Seeing Vanea and remembering her from when she first woke up unable to use her new body, seeing the fate of the Machina as Meyneth used her body, begging Egil to see he was loved.

Falling and surviving as Gadolt dies, Vanea telling her she’s sure Meyneth was happy to meet her, watching as the Monado nearly tore Shulk’s arm to shreds.

Watching Shulk resist Zanza only to be shot in the back.

“No!” The word tears from her throat as she jumps up and finds herself suspended in the air, in front of Meyneth. “I won’t let you!”

“Fiora, you’ll be killed!” Meyneth’s voice is painful. “Get back!”

Fiora doesn’t listen, she holds out her hands, ready to take the hit for her. Ready to die for the woman who gave her a second chance at life. And then her chest begins to feel warm.

There are blades in her hands now, and she has no time to wonder where they came from. She hears Meyneth fall to the ground, her Monado clattering to the ground next to her. Fiora stands her ground, deflects the attack with the blades in her hand.

“I see,” Zanza sneers as he reaches out a hand, Meyneth’s Monado quickly joining into one blade and settling there. “Troublesome, but nothing my disciples couldn’t handle. Dickson, it’s time to go.”

Without another word, Zanza was gone.

Fiora falls, suddenly feeling weak as she places the blades at her side. Meyneth catches her, holds her carefully with a frown on her face. She looks so worried as she holds tightly to the girl.

“You could have died,” she says.

“You would’ve died if I did nothing,” Fiora replies with a weak smile. “Little ol’ me or you… the answer seemed obvious.”

Meyneth says nothing then, just hugs her and sobs. Fiora returns the hug as she recovers, the Mechonis rumbling around them.

“We need to go!” Dunban yells, watching Vanea run down to where Egil lays. “The Mechonis could fall apart at any moment!”

Fiora nods and pulls away from Meyneth. “You’re right… What about Vanea and Egil, though?”

“Let me talk to them,” Meyneth says, already heading the way Vanea had gone, “we will meet up with you shortly.”

Fiora pauses for a moment, but nods. There’s no one she trusts more than Meyneth, not at this moment.

“Reyn,” Fiora turns to her friend. “Grab Shulk! Melia, Riki, you stay close to me!”

Reyn gently lifts Shulk’s motionless body into his arms. Melia and Riki are at her side in no time, and Dunban and Sharla prepare to follow just a bit behind, providing back cover. She glances back for a second, towards the bottom of Mechonis Core, and she prays those three will join them shortly.

“Vanea, I’m sorry…” Egil coughs, weak from the attack Zanza had struck him with. “I was so blind…”

“None of that, not right now,” Vanea shakes her head, crying into his chest. “I’m just so glad that you came to your senses… We can talk about everything else later.”

Egil frowns, heaves a heavy breath. “Vanea, I cannot go with you. There is still much that can be done.”

“No!” Vanea shakes her head. “I can’t leave you here!”

“Vanea,” Egil shakes his head. “It is too late for me.”

“No it’s not, Egil, don’t you speak like that.” Vanea’s head snaps up and she turns, seeing Lady Meyneth behind them. “There is no reason for you to stay here, we can leave. I… I can do what is needed.”

“I will not let you die…!” Egil forces himself to sit up. “Lady Meyneth--”

“I will not die, and even if I did,” Meyneth looks away for a second. “It would lead to the world we both want. A world with no need for gods.”

“Lady Meyneth…” Vanea’s lower lip trembles. “Please, no. I cannot lose either of you, I cannot…!”

“Do not worry, Vanea.” Meyneth kisses her forehead with a gentleness exclusive to a mother goddess. “We will all survive.”

Egil grunts, and Vanea watches as he stands, the chords connecting him to Yaldabaoth break and snap. He can barely stand and Vanea moves to match him, letting him lean against her. She pats his chest gently, pulling him out of Yaldabaoth.

Meyneth takes his other side, humming gently as if to calm them both. “Come on then, Fiora and the others must be waiting for us.”

Meyneth lets out a scream as she falls to the ground, feeling her vessel, the Mechonis, be split in two. Fiora is at her side quickly, hands on her shoulders and frown on her face.

“Are you alright?” Fiora asks, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m fine, just… in pain…” Meyneth lets out a sigh. “That is… all I will be able to do, to help you.”

Fiora nods, “that’s okay. You’ve done enough.”

Fiora sighs, thinking of everything that’s been happening. From Dickson shooting Shulk to Meyneth nearly dying to these strange blades… She closes her eyes, just as yells alert her to problems on the deck of Junks.

She runs out, leaving Meyneth behind with Miqol (and Shulk and Egil, lying unconscious in Med Bay beds-- no, she can’t think about that now). There’s Dickson, and more Telethia than she thought possible.

(It reminds her of Meyneth’s memories of the attack on Agniratha she thinks with a shiver).

“Dickson!” Fiora calls out, a frown on her face. “Why are you doing this?”

“This isn’t like you,” Sharla adds. “Snap out of it, Dickson!”

“How could you do this, Dickson?!” Dunban shakes his head. “Shulk adored you, looked up to you!

“ You can quit your bellyaching! I'm in total control,” Dickson laughs. “I've always been like this! Ever since long before any of you lot were born!”

“Before we were born?!” Dunban furrows his brow, but Fiora can see where this is going.

“Now you get it! It's just like Egil said,” Fiora bites her lip as he continues. “I'm Lord Zanza's disciple. Dickson of the Trinity!”

Before much can be said, a Telethia comes down, and there’s no choice but to fight. Fiora pulls the strange blades from her side and prepares for it, Melia and Riki coming to her side.

Reyn, Dunban, and Sharla stand a bit further back, but they’re all there, too. All of them, except for Shulk. Fiora reminds herself of that when she lunges. She lets the beams of the blades tear into the Telethia and it screams out.

Melia’s summoning elementals to her, enough that Fiora feels faster than she ever has before. She runs around it, watching as Riki spits poison onto the thing. Dunban digs his own blade into its side as Reyn draws its attention and Sharla shoots it straight in the head.

It begins to use Soul Read, Melia’s told her about this. That the only way to stop it is when she’s overflowing with Ether or when Shulk is using the Monado… Shulk… She grits her teeth and lets power in her chest build.

“Let’s see how you like this,” she hisses out, knowing Final Cross does not miss. Beams of Ether attack the beast and it falls to the ground, but not for long. It seems like there’s no stopping it… No matter what they do.

Dickson jumps on the back of the Telethia, a grin on his face as he looks at the group. “Look at all of you wastes of space! None of you are that tough without Shulk, eh?”

He shoots at Fiora and Dunban, the two barely dodging out of the way. “Stupid beast and a little girl who’s only good for cheering Shulk on! You should all be grateful, really. Not everyone has a war buddy, or a man who just happens to be able to guide you through the Marsh.”

“Dickson…!” Reyn grits his teeth. “You…!”

“It’s too bad, too, that Shulk didn’t listen. I told him someone would die if he didn’t end Egil,” Dickson turns his gaze to Fiora. “Someone just had to fill his mind with ideas of peace. If you had just laid down and let him do what Lord Zanza had planned, maybe he’d take it easy on you all.”

“I’d rather die fighting you than live as a slave of Zanza!” Fiora snaps back, pointing one of her blades at him.

“Then die!” The Telethia is starting to rear up and Fiora prepares… Only for an attack to hit their enemies, making Dickson fumble. “What?! Who was that? Show yourself!”

“Melia, are you alright?” Dickson hops off of the Telethia as Kallian approaches.

Fiora notes that he seems quite strong, but kind all the same (reminds her a bit of Dunban, really). She’s never seen him before, just listened to Melia talk about him with quite the adoration. And now he’s here to save them… maybe she’ll talk about him the same way in the future because of that.

“Brother!” Melia runs up next to Fiora, hands on her arm.

“Kallian!” Reyn is quick to speak up. “Dickson! He works for the Bionis like those Bionite blokes! He shot Shulk in the back!”

Kallian’s eyes widen and he looks at the girls. “Is this true?!”

They nod, and things start to go too fast for Fiora to keep up. Kallian swears to stop Dickson, and says the Harves can stop them… And then the woman, Lorithia, reveals herself to work with Dickson and Zanza too.

The High Entia are Telethia, when the right amount of Ether is concentrated. The Havres become part of them, even. Fiora feels sick, sicker than she feels looking at other Faces. Melia screams, but she can’t make out what she’s screaming.

All she can make out is Reyn pulling her back as Kallian rams into Lorithia and they explode.

“Your brother seemed kind,” Vanea’s words are awkward as she sits next to Melia, who cries in the corridor as they head for Colony 6. “He loved you.”

“I wish he did not,” Melia replies. “If he did not, he would not have done that to save me.”

“Oh, Melia…” Vanea frowns and reaches out to touch her shoulder. “You should not think like that. The love of a sibling is a wonderful thing. You may not realize it, but… not having that love hurts more than anything.”

“Like you and Egil?” Melia asks, looking up at her. “When he said those things to you in Agniratha… did that hurt?”

“More than anything else I had experienced,” Vanea admits. “He… he was willing to die, back in the Core. If Lady Meyneth had not been there, he would have. If he died, it would hurt… But I could at least find peace knowing he loved me again, at the end.”

“Vanea…” Melia looks down again, eyes glued to her feet. “I am sorry, it was selfish of me to wish like that.”

“It is alright to be selfish sometimes,” Vanea replies. “It is just important to remember the love he had for you. Even if that may be hard right now.”

“You’re right,” Melia wipes tears from her eyes. “I… I did not realize my father loved me until he died. It was different with Kallian, though. I knew he loved me, from a very young age I understood he cared for me. It makes losing him… so different.”

“It will take time to register it completely, Melia,” Vanea squeezes her shoulder gently. “Allow yourself that time. Just know he died to let you live, and that you have the chance to carry on his wishes.”

Melia nods. “That is… a wonderful way to look at it. My people are bound to be displaced now, and I am to be their hope. For their sake, and for Kallian, I must be strong.”

“Even one who is the hope of their people can ask for help, though,” Vanea reminds. “Please do not hesitate, I am sure everyone would be willing to assist.”

Melia looks at Vanea, a smile finally coming to her lips. “Thank you, Vanea.”

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #mod's fics #To fight for them (Meyneth)#This world is in disarray (Egil)#If that is to be my fate (Vanea)#It’s all so clear now (Fiora)#We will do all we can (Melia)#Like your usual old self (Dickson)

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greytoiletpaper · 4 years

Text

Out on Allen Street, it’s 7 in the Morning

Set in the same-ish Street Siblings universe as First Contact by @cryptids-and-muses and @a-sketchy-character @streetsiblings (they’re awesome), I present my own built-on concept. It’s a bit angstier but sue me I’m an angst ball

AO3 | Deluge

Chapter 1: Drizzle

Jason Todd loved the rain. He remembered it pattering on the roof as he dozed off into the night, curled up with Sparky. Times spent splashing in puddles. Drawing a rare smile from Catherine as bright as the morning sun. Days without Willis, his head stuck in a worn copy of Huckleberry Finn and the ambience set only by the rain as it tracked ran down the window he leant on.

It was raining when Jason woke to his mother’s lax corpse, ears drowning out every sound except the rain’s as it plinked in time with the droplets that dripped down her arm.

In front of her, Faizul’s corpse is still. So still that Cassandra Cain can almost block out how the man’s body only radiated pain and fear and agony so strong-and-she-did-that-with-her-hands-her-hands-so-red-and-.

But she can’t, her head is still drowning in the memory, and all she can think about is the fear emptiness that settles in her body. Her gift to understand movement as if it were a language, she learns, is nothing more than a curse when Death comes by her hand. She wrings her red fist, as tainted as her soul because of what she had done. She looks away.

Father David has his arms outstretched, a smile so sharp and so bright that if he were any other man, she would have thought he was proud. He is, but underneath, Cassandra can see nothing but sick and profound glee at what she can do. The decision is easy.

As Cassandra springs out the window, its hinges blew wide open, her father David keeled over, the sky crackles and runs with the long red rivulets off her arms.

Now, five months later, Jason ducks his head under the fire escape in an empty alley, the rain in a duet with the nightlife of Gotham. He allows himself some respite as it steadily washes the grime off his surroundings, a pleasant ratatatata above the ambient din that is the dark of Gotham. He is so tired, but he’ll have to move soon if he wants to stay out of sight of kidnappers and killers and whatever else haunts the shadows of Gotham.

A howl slices through the Gotham night as some mug gets his face slammed into a wall. Jason knows this because he can see it right now as the same mook gets decked by a – a girl. Anyone on the streets knows that girls can hold their own but seeing some thirty-something-year-old man get his ass handed to him by a pixie of a girl – he thinks she’s his age, somehow – is something else. Seriously, the guy looks terrified out of his mind as he runs with his tail between his legs after a particularly nasty hit to his crotch.

As if sensing his gaze, the girl snaps her head to him, locking him in place.

“Uh… Hi?” Jason raises his hand in an awkward wave which the girl mimics, albeit a bit stilted, her head on a tilt. The silence between the two of them stretches until the girl seems to see something in him and nods. Out of ideas, Jason digs around his bag and produces a fresh enough apple.

“I’m Jason.” He points to himself.

A beat, and then the girl repeats the gesture.

“Cuh, cuh, cuh,” She struggles with the words, her forehead pinched. “Cuh, ah, ssss.”

“Cass?” The girl nods again, this time rigorously. Unsure of himself, Jason raises the apple to her. “Well, nice to meet you, Cass. You hungry?”

Cass grins, her eyes twinkling as she bites into the apple. Around them, the rain lessens. Just a little.

She watches two of her most precious children draw closer, children who will laugh and cry and burn for her love. Gotham watches them come, raises her arms, and weeps with her joy.

“Jason and Cassandra against the world,” Is what Gotham would have said if she had a voice. For years, the city is content to watch her children. She observes Jason and Cassandra as they starve, as they fight, as they grow. On one night, the weather nothing but pluvial, she witnesses them come across the strange car in the alleyway owned by her first child. On that night, she watches as the Dark Knight comes across her most perfect pair of children.

“Cassandra,” She looks up at the man they had been living under for the past two months, Bruce. She makes no answer, only staring blankly at him–they were betting on seeing how long it took for the man to get uncomfortable when she does that–who stares back. He continues as if they had not been staring for a full minute, which is not to Cass’ benefit. “Do you know where Jason is?”

Cass, willing to keep trying, keeps her gaze unrepentant. Under her scrutiny, the Dark Knight’s demeanour finally cracks a little. Internally, Cass is ecstatic, but she still really wants to milk it as she keeps up the act.

“Someone call for me?” Jay comes down the stairs. Finally, Cass can break her façade.

“Good morning, slob.” The slob, honest to god, freezes.

“No,” He grinds out of his teeth.

“Yes,” Cass gives him a crooked smile. “slob.”

“Am I missing something here?” Bruce is frowning. Oh right, he was ignorant to their scheme.

“Slob,” Cass repeats with feeling and delights at Jay’s fuming. “S-L-O-B. It means Stupid-Loser-Of-Bets,” She looks Jay dead in the eye again and calls him by the name.

Bruce frowned even further (his body projects such honest confusion that Cass almost laughs). “I was not aware you two had made a bet.”

“A bet I lost because of you, old man!” Jay pipes up, suddenly fuming at Bruce. “You’re Batman, and you can’t even keep from cracking when some girl stares at you for longer than a minute?”

Cass does not hold in her laughter anymore, something she broadcasts to all gathered. Bruce sighs, but at least he waits for her to calm down before he gets to his point.

“Regardless… I need you two to come with me to my office,” As the man leaves, the two share a glance.

“You gonna go after him?”

“You first, slob,” Jay grumbles the entire way to the office, where Bruce waves them in.

For a few seconds, the man awkwardly shifts before he pulls a sheaf of papers from behind his desk.

“I… I quite enjoy having the two of you here. With me,” Bruce admits, looking both of them in the eyes. He takes a deep breath. “I do not want to force this on either of you, but I would love to have you here with me for longer.”

“Permanently, even.”

Bruce lays out the papers on the desk, ‘Adoption Applications’ printed at the top. The letters draw a sharp breath from Jay, and Cass is confident enough with reading to understand what it means.

“Yes,” They both say immediately, and Bruce’s face goes softer than either have ever seen it.

When he asks for their surnames, Cass thinks about saying Cain. Instead, she says Todd.

Shyly, her russet orbs meet his azure ones expecting anger, but everything about Jason only projects love and acceptance. Her grin, something she had not got right yet, is almost identical to the one her brother wears.

“Always wanted a sister. Can’t do much better than you, eh, Cass?”

“Yes Jay,” she pauses. “slob.”

Outside, the sky is open in a light drizzle.

If there is anyone in the Waynes that Jason thinks is his favourite, it would be Alfred. An opinion he thinks Cass would be hard-pressed to disagree with. Of course, Cass is still in awe about the fact that Bruce Wayne is Batman (and isn’t that just fucking crazy), so it’s understandable. Conversely, Jason still remembers his first memory of the butler, a kind smile and welcoming arms that promised care for both of them.

“Master Jason,” The boy had looked up to see a crinkle in Alfred’s eyes that he had only ever seen from Catherine. The butler continued, somehow even softer than his usual. “Would you like me to fix that for you?”

Alfred gestured to Jason’s battered copy of Huckleberry Finn that he had cradled self-consciously to his chest. He refused, unsure why the butler seemed to be delighted to see Jason in the way only Cass and his Mom did. But there is something so trustworthy about the man that part of Jason is sure Alfred would do things like that no matter what he asked. So, automatic favourite.

Their older brother, Dick (“Aptly nicknamed,” Jay mutters under his breath.), yells whenever he comes to the manor. Most of his visits tend to cycle between him screaming at Bruce or yelling about them. He does make an effort to be a little quieter when he’s talking about the latter. Although, he still looks at Jay with an indecipherable mixture of emotions in his eyes. A pool caught between anger and something unknown to them. It’s not something that upsets Cass, but it puts both of them off, nonetheless.

On the other hand, Barbara is a little more forward in her dislike of the new kids. More often than not, her ire seems aimed at Cass specifically. Privately, Cass thinks Barbara was still angry about Bruce taking her role as Batgirl and giving it to Cass. But, she can see how every time the older girl gets less hostile, another part of her body was long past the role anyway. So, she doesn’t hold it against Oracle.

“C’mon Cass, repeat after me,” Jason waves the pages in Cass’ face, which elicits a giggle from his sister. Her giggling unbalances the both of them, so they have to waste another couple of minutes to make themselves comfortable again.

“What’s the use you learning to do right when it’s troublesome to do right and ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?”

Cass repeats the words, but she struggles at ‘troublesome’, so Jason repeats it for her. Silence, and then.

“What mean?” He thinks she isn’t asking about the word.

“Well, Mom used to say that it was just that. It might be harder to do the right thing, but it’d be better since you at least did it properly,” Satisfied, his sister merely nods and tries the words again. This time, she only takes three tries until she gets ‘troublesome’ right.

“I think she would have liked you,” He murmurs between phrases and instantly regrets it when Cass’ head turns to him so sharply she jostles him. He is about to brush it off when she nods her head shyly, snuggling closer to Jason.

He thinks, as they keep reading, that things are going to turn out alright. He has Robin now, and Robin gives him magic. Not only that but he’s also got Cass as Batgirl. Sure, she has that weird stitch mask covering her face, but it’s so fitting that he cannot imagine Cass with any other kind of costume. He knows her, and she knows him. For years she has been the sister he never knew he needed.

Together, Jason muses, they’re going to shake the whole damn world.

Whether they're from the Justice League or otherwise, everyone is always ready with a snide comment directed towards them. Or, more specifically, Jason. They use words and insults that don’t make sense to her, but she can see them affect her brother. When she asks, all he does is brush her off with lies and platitudes that they both know are fake. It isn’t until Troia huffs and says something that has waves of hurt rolling off Jason’s body that Cass decides she’s had enough.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’d think you’d ever be like – ow!” Troia, poise flooded with nothing but condescension (she’s too angry to be elated at remembering a word Jason taught her) that Cass quickly corrects with a sharp jab. Like a deer in headlights, she turns and somehow has the gall to look indignant (another word). “Who did – Batgirl?”

“What, are you doing?” Troia fucking blinks. “Why are you treating my brother like this?”

She doesn’t even look guilty.

“Oh, don’t worry about all that. I don’t think it’s anything you’d understand anyway,”

She bends down towards her, apparently not noticing how still she is. Anyone who knows anything about Cassandra Todd knows her stillness means Death. Evidently, Troia is an exception. She's the only one in the room that's relaxed.

“Some people are simply born for this role. No street rat can ever hope to achieve that.”

Cassandra moves before anyone even blinks, her arms a flurry of jabs and punches and vicious kicks as she catches Troia off guard. Even when she finally regains her footing, the Amazon doesn't stand a sliver of a chance as Cassandra lays into her.

A block from Troia awards a savage stomp on her shin. A punch ducked under and followed through into a sequence of blows to the Amazon’s chest. When Troia grips her lasso and tries to restrain Cassandra, the girl only slinks her way past and wrestles it from her hands. Quickly and efficiently, she wraps it around the Amazon’s waist and pulls. For someone so small, Cassandra manages to lift Troia with the lasso with enough strength that when she releases it, the Amazon goes flying into a pillar in the Watchtower with a sharp crack.

Cass picks up her brother and shields him from the Leaguers, indifferent to their shocked and judgemental eyes.

The message is clear.

Even though they’re lost in a veritable sea of people, it still ends up being just the two of them, and Cass is more than okay with that.

Next chapter

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chiaki-translation · 3 years

Text

4th Anniversary The Key to Daydreaming: Winter’s Door - Event Translation

Of course I’ll start from Winter *cough cough*

But yeah, I don’t know why but I’m quite moved by the entire scene at the end? And also, I dieded when Hisoka called us Ojou-san XD

For the benefit of those who doesn’t have the JP game, I have uploaded the voiced recording of this story. Please don’t reupload them anywhere else, but here it is: WINTER’s DOOR

4th Anniversary The Key to Daydreaming: Secret Key / / Spring’s Door / / Autumn’s Door / / Winter’s Door / / Opening the Future Door with You

Disclaimer:

A3! belongs to Liber Entertainment

Translator’s Note: The character they portray are the characters from their Mixed Play, namely Kondo from I Come with The Night, Miyagi from Run Around The Field, George from Luminous Circus, Holmes from Scarlet Mirror, Kou and Hisui from YinYang Midnight. Character names followed Yaycupcake wiki as I’m not sure about the correct reading of their names.

Winter’s Door

Director:

(The manager told me to go to the rooms one by one… I wonder which room I should start from)

Ah, speaking of which, I have something to ask Tasuku-san.

(The clock in the lounge hasn’t been working well, I thought I should ask him to take a look at it.

There’s the thing about the key as well, I guess I’ll go to Tasuku-san’s room first, that way I can hear from Tsumugi-san as well)

Director:

Hmm? There’s something pasted on the door.

“Unlocked” ?

What is this about…

Eh!?

(There’s a dull sound coming from inside… I wonder if everything’s alright.

I’m a bit worried, let’s try calling them for now)

Kondo?:

“Uh… ugh…”

Miyagi?:

“Oi, are you alright?”

Director:

(Hmm? Those are Kondo and Miyagi from the Mixed Play performance right.

What’s the two of them doing with that look…?)

Miyagi:

“I think it’s not a good idea for you to push yourself…”

Kondo:

“I’m not pushing myself. I’m just not feeling very well today.”

Director:

(Tsumugi-san… To be exact, Kondo is trying to lift the dumbbell.

That dumbbell is quite heavy though…

I want to stop him because it will be bad if he got injured, but they might be in the middle of practicing an etude)

Kondo:

“Uh, ughhhh….!”

Director:

Umm, if it’s too heavy, please don’t force yourself…

Kondo and Miyagi:

“!”

Director:

(I got too worried and ended up stopping him)

Kondo:

“Sigh, it’s so pathetic to be worried by a woman.”

Miyagi:

“I told you that the way you hold it makes people worry didn’t I.”

Director:

(As I thought, they’re deep in their role.

I guess it’s better for me to match them for now)

Are you trying to build your physical strength with the dumbbell?

Miyagi:

“No, that’s not the case…

About how it comes to this, how to say it.”

Director:

Miyagi:

“I run a liquor store, and I’m thinking of opening a new shop this time.

Then, I found out that there’s a good property nearby so I went to take a look.”

Director:

A new shop! That sounds good.

Miyage:

“Yeah. And then, I met this guy who has bought our sake before.”

Kondo:

“I’m quite confident with my physical strength, so I was thinking of offering some help after hearing the shop owner’s situation.”

Miyagi:

“I’m grateful for your intention but, I have told you so many times that it’s enough for you to just come by and buy some sake again next time…

You said you’re confident in your physical strength, that’s why I said you can carry several bottles of beers like the one you bought last time--

It’s supposed to be a joke though...”

Kondo:

“Of course not. Just like this, I can easily pick up this heavy dumbbell… Ugh….! Uh…!”

Miyagi:

“Oh, well… As you can see, he’s quite stubborn, and he started to try showing off his power using the dumbbell that happened to be around.”

Director:

I, I see.

But if you overdo it, you might ended up injuring yourself, please do it in moderation.

(In the end, Kondo is still Tsumugi-san…)

Kondo:

“I guess I have no choice…

I’m not feeling very well today, I’ll leave it at that for now.”

Miyagi:

“Please do so.”

Director:

Right. I was a bit distracted, but I have something that I want to ask the two of you. Is it alright?

Kondo:

“A question for us?”

Miyagi:

“What is it about?”

Director:

I picked up a key earlier and I don’t know the owner.

Do you have any idea about what this is?

Miyagi:

“It’s not mine.”

Kondo:

“I also know nothing.”

Director:

Ah, I see…

Miyagi:

“Ah, speaking of which, a circus troupe seems to be coming near here.

There seem to be a considerable amount of people coming, you might be able to find the owner there.”

Director:

Circus Troupe…?

(What is this about.

I wonder if it’s another setting for the etude.)

Miyagi:

“Also, it’s fine for you to keep looking for the owner, but there are some strange rumors floating around here recently, please be careful when you’re walking alone.”

Kondo:

“Ah… It’s about the non-human ‘Mysterious Visitor’ that appears once a day right.”

Director:

No, non-human huh…

Miyagi:

“Yeah, some rumor even said that they’re devils.”

Kondo:

“For now, why don’t you go and check the circus troupe first.

That circus seems to have a trapeze artist and a beast master too.”

Miyagi:

“Hoo, that sounds interesting.

I’ll go invite my brother and friends to take a look on my next day off.”

Kondo:

“Yeah, I’m also thinking of bringing my wife to see them.”

Director:

A trapeze artist and a beast master…

(This feels familiar, are they actually talking about Luminous Circus troupe…?)

Understood. I’ll be going ahead.

Kondo:

“Yeah, please take care.”

Miyagi:

“Then, see you around.”

Director:

(Ah, I kinda forgot to talk to Tasuku-san about the clock, it just doesn’t seem to be the right time. I’ll go and ask him next time.)

There’s a lively music coming from the next room somehow…

(As I thought, the story from before was most probably about Luminous Circus Troupe.

Ah, Room 205 also has a paper written “Unlocked” on it.)

George?:

“Thank you so much!”

Holmes?:

“That was pretty interesting.”

Director:

(It’s George and Holmes this time…!)

Holmes:

“Hi, my lady. What a pity, you were just slightly late.

George was performing his show until just a minute ago.”

George:

“If you come to our Circus, I’ll show it to you as much as you want.

Please come to Luminous Circus Troupe next time. ”

Director:

Eh umm, Alright…

Holmes:

“Then, you were saying that you have something to consult with me.”

George:

“Right. I want you to look at the “Mysterious Visitor” rumor that has been floating around here recently.”

Holmes:

“That rumor huh, I recently heard about it.”

George:

“The number of customers tend to decrease when there’s a creepy rumor floating around. That’s why, I would like to ask for Mr Detective to unravel this mystery.”

Holmes:

“I’m not really interested in strange rumor like this, but I guess I’m a bit curious this time, I’ll take a look at it.”

George:

“Right. As expected of a great detective.”

Holmes:

“Apparently that visitor only appears once a day.

They’ve been visiting the houses around here in turn, and the next one that they’re most likely going to visit seems to be the empty building over there.”

Director:

(Eh? That one was probably the building that Miyagi mentioned just now…)

Holmes:

“But, I don’t know when that visitor will make their appearance.

If there’s someone there it would be easier, at least I would be able to hear from him.”

George:

“I’m also quite concerned that the visitor will make an appearance at that empty building.”

Director:

Excuse me… I think there’s someone there today.

I was told by my acquaintance that he came to visit that building today.

George:

“Is that true! So this kind of coincidence do happen.”

Holmes:

“I see, there’s a possibility that my lady’s acquaintance has met with this mysterious visitor.

Thank you for the information. You’re faring better than my assistant.”

Goerge:

“That was a great help, my lady.

If there’s a way we can extend our gratitude to you…”

Director:

Ah! Then, can I ask you just one question?

George:

“Of course, I don’t mind. Ask us anything.”

Director:

I’m looking for the owner of this key.

Do you know anything about it?

George:

“Hmm… It’s a key that I haven’t seen before.

It’s a pity, but it’s not mine.”

Holmes:

“I don’t recall anything either.

But, if you’re talking about key…

I saw a mysterious room with a paper stuck on its keyhole.

It’s a room just opposite from here.”

George:

“Oh, I think it might be a good idea to check it at once.

Why don’t you go and see?”

Director:

(The room opposite from here is… Room 206)

Right, I’ll go check it out.

Thanks for telling me!

Holmes:

“Of course, you’re welcome.”

George:

“Good luck to you. My kind lady.”

Holmes:

“Now that that’s gone…

Should we eat some marshmallow?”

George:

“Aren’t we going to check that building?”

Holmes:

“… It’s just a joke.”

Director:

(Like I was told to, I ended up coming to Room 206…

It’s true, there’s a yorishiro-like paper stuck on the keyhole.

TN: Yorishiro is the paper used to attract spirit, just Google it for the appearance.

Furthermore, it’s the same “Unlocked” written on it.

This yorishiro…

The mysterious visitor that everyone was talking about, could it be--)

Director:

(As I thought, inside is Kou and Hisui)

Kou:

“Geez, you never get tired of it every day.”

Hisui:

“This world is clearly very different from the world that we live in.

I thought if I can continue to exist like this, Master might exist in a different form here as well.

Is it a sin for me for just wanting to see him one more time…”

Kou:

“No, I never said that it’s a sin.

But, rather than doing this troublesome thing every single day, why don’t you get it all over and done with.”

Hisui:

“I have to look at each one of them carefully, otherwise I might miss it.”

Kou:

“Geez, what a troublesome matter.”

Director:

(I thought the mysterious visitor would either be Kou or Hisui, but looking at this situation, it seems to be Hisui.

After listening to their story, I think they’re looking for Geppaku.)

Kou:

“So, where are you going today?”

Hisui:

“There’s an unoccupied house over there.”

Kou:

“That one huh…

You said it’s unoccupied, so there’s no one inside right.”

Hisui:

“I know that, but…”

Director:

(What a dejected expression he has.

I feel a bit sorry for him…)

Umm… Excuse me--

Kou:

“Little girl, you finally opened your mouth.”

Director:

Uhh, so you found me out…

Kou:

“Of course, it’s a given.”

Hisui:

“What business do you have with us.”

Director:

That empty building, there should be someone coming there today.

But those people are my acquaintances, so I don’t think it’s the person you’re looking for.

Hisui:

“I see.

But master might not be the same master as before.

There’s a possibility that his form has changed.”

Kou:

“If it’s her acquaintance, isn’t it faster just to bring her along with you.”

Hisui:

“You’re right… Can I ask for your assistance.”

Director:

Yeah, I don’t mind.

Hisui:

“I’m really grateful.”

Kou:

“Hmm, today sounds more interesting than usual.

Let me go along with you.”

Hisui:

“Then, let’s head out.”

Director:

Ah, before that…

Does this key belong to any of you two?

Hisui:

“Key? …So a key can take this kind of shape.”

Kou:

“I don’t know. It’s not mine.”

Hisui:

“My bad, I have no idea either.”

Director:

(So key doesn’t really exist in this form in their era…

Well, there are still places that I haven’t confirmed yet, I guess I just have to look patiently.)

Understood, thank you so much.

Then, should we go.

Director:

Ah… Now that I think about it, I don’t know the specific location of that empty building…

Hisui:

“You don’t need to worry. I know the way…

It’s over here, follow me.”

Director:

(We ended up in front of the storeroom…

There’s a paper written “Unlocked” over here as well.)

Kou:

“Hmm, it’s here huh. Then, let’s go inside and take a look.”

Holmes:

“There’s a chance that the mysterious visitor is going to appear over here today, do you see any apparent changes in the surroundings?”

George:

“If it stays this way, the customers will stop coming.

I wonder who this visitor is, I do want to know as well.”

Miyagi:

“I just met the caretaker for this building, there doesn’t seem to be anything unusual—

Right, I’m getting up now,”

Kondo:

“Ah, oi! Who are those people over there…!?”

Holmes:

“!”

George:

“What…!?”

Kou:

“Seems like our appearance suprised you.”

Director:

Sorry for coming in suddenly.

Eh umm, I have something to tell everyone.

The identity of the mysterious visitor is Hisui-san over here.

Kondo:

“This person?”

Holmes:

“Oh, the fact that my lady brings the mysterious visitor here directly means…”

Hisui:

“Mysterious visitor…?”

Director:

Actually, recently there’s a rumor floating around here which says about a mysterious visitor that visit once a day.

Hisui:

“I see…

My bad, I was being careful not to stand out, but I didn’t think that I actually bothered a lot of people.

I’m just, trying to look for someone that I really want to meet.”

George:

“I see, so it’s like that.”

Miyagi:

“Don’t just create a fuss like that…”

Kou:

“But as I thought, none of them is your Master.”

Hisui:

“Yeah. You even come here especially with me, my bad.”

Director:

It’s fine, please don’t mind it.

Kondo:

“Regardless, what a strange appearance you guys have.

It doesn’t look like the so-called cosplay too…”

Holmes:

“What are you guys?”

Kou:

“We’re Shikigami.”

Kondo:

“Shi, Shikigami!?

The kind that appears in Onmyouji stories, you mean you’re that…!?”

Miyagi:

“It’s just a joke right…”

George:

“Hmm, what is a Shikigami?”

Holmes:

“I feel that I’ve heard the word itself before…”

Director:

Umm… I don’t know if I can explain it well, but something like a ghostly spirit apparition? I wonder if that explanation is alright…?

Kou:

“It’s troublesome to explain. So let’s leave it at that.”

Hisui:

“I don’t mind either.”

George:

“An apparition…! What a profound mystery…!”

Holmes:

“Who would have thought that the mysterious visitor is really such an existence.”

Hisui:

“I’m really sorry for making a fuss for everyone.

I’m going to try looking somewhere else once more.”

Kou:

“But you seem to have scared the people around this area, isn’t it better to just stay over here for a while.”

Hisui:

“You’re right…”

Director:

(Hisui looks a bit disappointed…)

Miyagi:

“…Hey, you.”

Hisui:

“?”

Miyagi:

“You look pretty tired, why don’t you take one of my sake and drink for now.

You might feel more energized after drinking good sake.

Ah, I don’t know if Shikigami can drink sake or not though.”

Hisui:

“I’m thankful for your offer.”

Kondo:

“Ah, that sounds good. The sake that the owner choose always hits the mark, they’re delicious.”

George:

“Oh, then I would like to try drinking it too.

Can I get one as well?”

Kou:

“The sake of this world huh. Hmm, I’m also interested.”

Holmes:

“You piqued my interest indeed. Let me have it as well.”

Miyagi:

“You guys…!

Sigh, understood… I’ll take everyone’s share later.”

Director:

(Fufu, they’re people from different era and country, but they get along well somehow, looking at them is pretty funny)

Holmes:

“Speaking of which, have you found the owner of the key?”

Director:

No, I actually haven’t found them.

Miyagi:

“… I see. Just like that Shikigami who is looking for someone, the key might also be looking for the keyhole that suits it.”

Director:

You’re right… That might be the case.

Kondo:

“If you can’t find the owner here, the key might be connecting you to a new story up ahead. This is not the end.”

Director:

A new story…

Holmes:

“If you have decided, that means you can’t stay over here isn’t it?”

Director:

Yes?

Hisui:

“You’re going to look for the key’s owner right?”

Director:

I mean, I guess it’s supposed to be that way…

But from the beginning, what are these all about!?

Kou:

“It’s best for you to go now, little girl.”

George:

“A journey around with the key, please enjoy yourself.”

Director:

I, I got kicked out, in the end I didn’t get to know anything either…

(Even so, a mystery in the warehouse really sounds like Winter Troupe, how to say it…

But, I was really drawn by everyone’s lively performances, I ended up participating with them naturally)

This is not the end…

(Even if the season changes, once more, it’s going to connect to the new season, just like Winter.

What’s there behind this key I wonder…

I’m really looking forward to it.)

Then, let’s go and try to find the key’s owner once more.

#a3! game #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! event #a3! translation #a3! 4th anniversary #a3! winter troupe

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hallowxiu · 4 years

Text

Team Stop Anti-Pick Up Line League 2.0

pairing: lucifer & gn!mc kind of LOL

word count: 1.6k

summary: A series of unfortunate events. Not really, but you do think Lucifer wants to kill you.

a/n: this is part 14 of the mc isn’t good at pick up lines series

part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” You have the bridge of your nose pinched between your thumb and index finger as you look into the body-length mirror in front of you. You, Mammon, and Asmodeus have moved into the latter’s room so he could properly dress you up for your next event. “This isn’t going to work; this wouldn’t even work on me.” To say you were disappointed was an understatement. You thought you could trust Asmodeus when it came to something like pick up lines, but it seems you made a severe and continuous lapse in your judgement.

“And the stupidest thing you’ve ever worn.” Mammon adds from where he stands behind you. The demon has his arms crossed over his chest as he examines your look, a small grin on his lips. Your demise was definitely entertaining for him.

“It might look stupid,” which it most certainly does, “but if you own it and act confident, you’ll be able to pull it off.” You look into the mirror again, taking in your appearance. You were, to put it simply, dressed in a black trash bag. It was loud and crinkled every time you moved, and it gave you no flattering shape. You were convinced that not even Asmodeus himself would be able to pull this off (which makes sense, in your mind, as trash bags are not meant to be worn). “Now,” the blond speaks up again, “do you have everything memorized?” You nod your head along to his question as he passes out the walkie-talkies to you and Mammon. “Great. We’ll communicate through these in the meantime. Make sure you leave it on, we want to hear how it goes with Lucifer!”

Right… the plan was for you to barge into Lucifer’s office, much like last time, and throw a pick up line at him. Asmodeus told you several times to ‘trust the process’ when you questioned how this would be successful. As far as the three of you were aware, Lucifer didn’t have any meetings today and only had the typical stack of paperwork to do. With their last words of encouragement, the two brothers pushed you out of Asmodeus’ room and you found yourself walking down the hall towards Lucifer’s office. To be honest, you weren’t exactly thrilled about the scenario you were in. Yes, you wanted to give Lucifer a pick up line that would fluster him. No, you didn’t think it would be this one.

“Now remember,” Mammon’s voice comes out staticky through the walkie-talkie, “don’t knock. Just barge in there and lay out the pick up line. Don’t give him time to think about it.”

“Especially since you’re in a trash bag. He’ll throw you out before he even gives you the chance.” Asmodeus adds over Mammon. You aren’t sure why Asmodeus demanded his own walkie-talkie when him and Mammon were just going to be staying in the same room together. Your stomach is twisting uncomfortably as you find yourself in front of his office door. Your first day back after three weeks and you were already up to your antics again. You needed a friend who would encourage you to stop, not egg you on. With a deep inhale, you pushed the door to Lucifer’s office open, and stormed in. You marched up to the middle of the room, loudly exclaiming with your arms thrown out, “I’m trash, so please take me out.” It’s when you get hit with the silence that follows that you decide to look up, your eyes immediately widening in horror when finding Lucifer. However, the demon was not alone. Of course not, no, why would he be when you planned to throw yourself into his office to humiliate yourself?

At Lucifer’s desk stood Simeon, Solomon, Lord Diavolo, and the man of the hour himself, Lucifer. You looked down at yourself, and then the group who’s staring at you, mortified. It’s quiet, so quiet that you were positive everyone could hear your heart slamming against your chest. You once again glance down at your get up before looking back up at the small group of people in front of you.

“I knew from the moment that I could hear your every move down the hall,” Lucifer’s pinching the bridge of his nose with a look of complete agony on his face, “that I should have left and stopped you from coming inside. This is on me. This is my fault.”

“Hey!” You hear your name called out from the walkie-talkie that’s crammed in your back pocket. “Ya didn’t even say it right! It’s, ‘take me out any time’ while you gesture to yourself!” Mammon’s interruption could not have come at a worse time. “And why don’t I hear anythin’? Ain’t Lucifer there or somethin’? Oh shit, Asmodeus, do you think he’s killed them?” If looks could kill, you would have died on the spot.

“Let me just…” The stupid fucking thing, you think to yourself as you pull the walkie-talkie out of your back pocket, all while crinkling the trash bag loudly. It’s still silent and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. This is just your luck, always your luck. You’re starting to believe that no one in the universe has worse luck than you. Maybe you were cursed when you were born; it seems likely. You turn it off, or at least try to, but the old walkie-talkie seems to be acting its age, and it’s putting up a fight with you, one that you seem to be losing. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Your anger and frustration was starting to seep through, and you immediately corrected yourself when remembering that both the future Demon King and an angel were in your presence. “Uh, I mean, gee whiz. This stupid--”

“What are ya doin’? Come on, give us the details! Did Lucifer fall to his knees, or did he kill ya instead?” Mammon, please just shut the fuck up--

“So, Mammon and Asmodeus put you up to this.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Uh,” your mouth is dry as you try to think of what to do, “no?” You just wished it sounded less like a question. You ain’t no snitch.

“You’re a great liar.” Solomon deadpans. “Very convincing; ten out of ten.” You roll your eyes despite knowing that he’s right.

“I thought it was very entertaining!” You look over to see Lord Diavolo flashing you a thumbs up. “If I were Lucifer, I would have been absolutely swept off my feet.”

“You have low standards.” Both Lucifer and Solomon say at the same time.

“Oh really? Because if I recall correctly, Solomon, you thought my Star Wars pick up line was cute.” You hear an audible gasp come from the sorcerer and his cheeks flush pink.

“You promised to keep that to yourself!”

“Really? You never struck me as the nerdy type when it came to romance.” Simeon says as he gazes at the man thoughtfully. “Although I guess it isn’t too surprising. You are a sorcerer after all.”

“What does that even have to do with anything?” The silver-haired sorcerer stares at the angel in disbelief, the man clearly embarrassed from your confession.

“Can we please focus?” The eldest of the brothers is barely containing his frustration with the situation, letting out a long sigh afterwards. “We can finish this discussion another day, since it was cut short and it seems that everyone is distracted.”

“You should be distracted too!” Lord Diavolo exclaims when Solomon and Simeon excuse themselves, leaving Lucifer’s office shortly after. “If I had a cute human storming into my office in a trash bag asking me to take them out, I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything either!” You feel your face heat up as you shift awkwardly on your feet.

“Oh my god, Lord Diavolo, are we like, flirting right now?” You wiggle your eyebrows as you look at the crowned prince, Lucifer visibly frowning at the exchange.

“Enough.” He says with a warning tone. “Lord Diavolo, if I may have a moment with my troublesome human.” You watch with a pout as Lord Diavolo leaves the office. You can feel the tension in the air once it’s only the two of you, a sheepish chuckle escaping your lips.

“Okay, I know you’re mad, but hear me out. I just wanted to make you smile.” You just wanted to make him smile? Is that really all you have? “And besides, everyone likes a good pick up line here and there.” Lucifer’s made his way back to his desk, the demon sitting in his chair as he keeps his gaze on you. He wasn’t going to stop you from talking? You expected him to interrupt you at least three different times already, so you didn’t really plan anything to say. “And, uh, you know, a hard working man like yourself could use a few pick up lines every now and then. I heard it’s a great stress reducer.” He’s still silent. “And, well, I mean, who doesn’t like to be complimented? You seem like a nice demon who would appreciate a compliment or two.” Still nothing. “Did you… did you get the pick up line though?”

After what seems like an eternity, Lucifer lets out another sigh. “You called that a pick up line?”

“Because-- because I’m in a trash bag. I wanted you to take me out… because I’m trash. Get it, because-- because the trash bag…”

“Get out.”

“Yes, sir.”

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[NatsuYuu] along the seams of shadows

Rating: G

Word count: 2079

Summary: Natsume Reiko is a pitiful and lonely human.

Note: AO3 link. A look at Reiko through Madara’s eyes.

Madara’s ears twitch when the tree branch starts creaking and the leaves fall down in a whirlwind of irritating pests. He’s two seconds away from threatening whoever is disturbing his nap when laughter reaches him—a plain, boisterous laughter that leans towards mockery instead of pure joy.

“You really are just a cat, Madara!” the voice says, as close to his face as ever. “Napping on a nice patch of grass, under the sunlight?”

Madara cracks one eye open. The sun is still high in the sky and the breeze that ruffles his fur is a pleasant addition, accompanying his solitary nap far away from noisy and ridiculous small fry. But he can never escape the unpredictability of an annoying, weak human.

“If you say another word you will become my afternoon snack,” Madara warns.

The laughter becomes louder, and in the sunlight that makes shadows bigger, pale hair shines brightly while unnatural eyes glimmer with an even more vivid color.

“I’d like to see you try, you big lump of fluff.”

Natsume Reiko smells like mischief, power and loneliness.

***

This forest isn’t big enough to swallow all the rumors that float around. There is no god protecting it and spreading rules to abide by, which means that everyone is free to do as they like, much to Madara’s displeasure. He’s a magnificent beast with strength that rivals that of a god, capable of destroying entire areas of nature and banishing youkais, but people here treat him like he’s the latest entertainment, to be jeered at by everyone and nobody.

He is not a simple creature that lazes around, and he definitely is not a human child’s pet.

“You should have eaten her long ago if you’re so irritated by these rumors,” Hinoe tells him, looking far too too smug for someone who is, without a doubt, clinging the most to that girl.

“It requires too much effort,” Madara growls, flicking his tail impatiently. “Reiko probably doesn’t taste good anyway. I don’t like my prey jumping and running around, it’s exhausting to look at.”

“You are the most boring beast I know.”

Madara rolls his eyes, turning his head away. “That’s a bold accusation when Misuzu is right here.”

“Misuzu is funny, at least. You, on the other hand, are boring.”

Hinoe draws from her pipe and exhales noisily, chuckling when some of the smoke gets into Madara’s eyes. Madara groans and rises on his paws, lifting a cloud of dust and dirt along with him, and a few little plant youkais scamper off deeper into the forest with squeaks. Madara watches them flee for their lives, feeling vindicated.

“I am a respected and intimidating beast, that’s what I am,” he huffs.

“Yeah, a beast that still refuses to play a game with me because he’s scared.”

Hinoe bursts out laughing while Madara tries his hardest not to simply snap and leave. Reiko jumps down from a tree (why is she always climbing trees?) and lands onto Madara’s back, her lips curled into a grin that could have been fueled by the sun’s spite, bold but burning.

Sometimes, Madara finds himself unable to make sense out of this girl appearing and disappearing from his life like a tornado.

“I told you I don’t have time to waste on your ridiculous games,” Madara says.

Reiko tilts her head, never ceasing to be the arrogant and confident person she poses as whenever she makes her words sharp and cutting.

“Hinoe is right, you are boring,” she snickers.

Madara’s tail hits the ground in annoyance, and he shows the barest hint of his teeth.

“Don’t you have human things to do, instead of bothering me during my peaceful rest?”

Reiko shrugs, sliding off Madara. She smooths over her skirt and passes a hand through her hair, as if they’ve never seen her in a dishevelled state or covered in mud after an encounter with rambunctious youkais. She stays silent, her smile frozen, but her eyes are blazing with a quiet, raging fire that sends chills down Madara’s spine. She’s only a young girl, inexperienced and foolish, running around and upsetting the natural order of things in this forest—but behind all this brashness, Madara senses something deeply unsettling.

“Human things aren’t as interesting as coming here and hearing you grouch like an old man,” Reiko answers. “Hinoe, you said you wanted to show me a new curse.”

Madara ignores the way Hinoe coos at Reiko like she is the most precious creature she’s ever seen, and observes. Reiko is someone they shouldn’t mess with, that is for certain; Madara doesn’t quite know yet why he cannot shake off the feeling she’s wrapping them around her finger.

***

Madara being Reiko’s pet becomes more of a joke than a real fact believed by everyone, and ultimately it doesn’t change anything in the way Madara’s strength is perceived. The others make fun of him for letting her live in spite of the influence she has on his image as the greatest beast of the forest, but for the time being he’s one of the very few who didn’t get his name down in the stupid book, so there.

There has been some turmoil and unrest in the neighborhood, lately. A vicious youkai destroying everything standing in its way, threatening small fry for information and leaving behind trails of blood that scare the weakest of them. Madara doesn’t feel particularly concerned about this kind of rampage, which happens a lot more often than people would believe. It’s best to let it pass and not get involved in this youkai’s affairs.

That is what he would have done, were he alone. In times like these, Madara remembers why he chose to live in solitude and not surrounded by other beings who have the survival instincts of insignificant bugs.

“The destroyed trees fall down and block some roads in the forest,” Reiko grumbles, tapping her foot. “People can’t circulate anymore, and cleaning that mess up will take many weeks.”

Madara sighs, glancing at the area of destruction. The claw marks on the trunks indicate that whoever they’re going to go up against might rival Madara in size, while the pace at which the forest is being attacked tells them it’s also nimble on its feet. Not an ideal situation, then.

“Why do you care about that?” Madara asks, turning back his head to look at her. “You don’t like the people of this town, and they don’t wander in the forest as frequently as you do.”

Sometimes, imperceptibly, Madara catches a flicker of pain in Reiko’s eyes at the mere mention of her own desires. It’s not a physical pain, nor is it a pain associated with the events she’s currently dealing with—it comes from within, deep from her soul and emerging in her gaze for one second. She hides it well. She carries this pain everywhere she goes, but she hides it well.

Madara never comments on it. He watches her school the features of her face back into ones she’s crafted over the years, all mischieviousness and no nonsense. Reiko grins and acts like the royal princess she has become in this tiny pocket of otherworldly space she is the only one to trespass into.

“I don’t like seeing people do whatever they want, like they’re owning this place,” she declares, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “The smaller youkais have been pestering me to do something about it. And it’s destroying my napping spots, too. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to have your favorite tree cut down either.”

She’s an odd girl and a mystery Madara doesn’t pretend to understand. She’s confidence and contradiction and selfishness all at once, making it impossible to untangle the knots of her emotions—she uses words and rash actions to cover it up, like a nice tapestry concealing the damage done by a kid’s tantrum.

There is kindness in her selfishness, Madara thinks. Reiko obeys no one’s rules, and she makes up her own for her silly games, but her heart isn’t as corrupted as it may seem. And for this lost human shunned by everyone, doing small services unseen by her peers, Madara only feels pity.

He huffs, and takes off to find the troublesome youkai, whose name will end up tied to a piece of paper.

***

“That book of yours is useless if you’re not using its intended purpose.”

“Its intended purpose is to show off and to instill fear in my enemies.”

“You don’t have natural enemies, foolish girl, you’re creating them yourself.”

Reiko tips her head backwards and laughs, a sound carrying over the wind and echoing against the stone walls. She looks at Madara like he’s the one who has said idiotic things.

“It’s preemptive,” she says. “I’ve never felt that powerful before inventing the book.”

“The words that come out of your mouth are incomprehensible to me,” Madara grunts. “Humans are so unnecessarily complicated and confusing.”

“Don’t talk like you know how humans behave. You’ve barely had any contact with them.”

“And this is exactly why I find them annoying.”

Reiko smiles. She has her legs plunged into the cold but clear water of the lake, on this summer day that feels both too hot and too humid. Madara himself is lying down, head pillowed on his front legs and enjoying the slow pace of his day. He warned Reiko that playful and impish youkais would steal her shoes, that she had carelessly thrown in the grass, but she shrugged and didn’t find it particularly upsetting.

How strange, and how perplexing, to encounter someone who doesn’t adhere to any of the world concepts Madara knows. Reiko doesn’t belong to the realm of ordinary humans, and she has no knowledge of the exorcist community; she is an entity dancing on the blurred hinge of these worlds.

“I don’t need to use the power of their names, since I’ll never see them again,” Reiko finally says. “It’s only awkward if I happen to meet one of them and can’t remember who they are.”

“So you admit this book is useless to you,” Madara snorts. “Give it to me, then.”

Reiko scoops up water between her hands, and flicks it at Madara’s eyes. Madara wrinkles his nose and staggers back, glaring at Reiko’s self-satisfied expression.

“You’re a nuisance,” he tells her.

“And you’re not fun,” Reiko replies. “It’s my Book of Friends, so you don’t get to steal it from me. Attaching a name to a face makes it easier to call them friends.”

A pitiful human, truly.

“...They’re not your friends,” Madara says.

Reiko’s shrug feels measured. She gets out of the water, doesn’t bother drying her feet before retrieving her shoes (that are still where she left them) and putting them on. Madara’s eyes follow her movements, choosing to remain where he is.

“Maybe not,” Reiko concedes, her back turned on Madara. “I wouldn’t want to, anyway. But they gave me their names. Names are important, right?”

Natsume Reiko barges into their life without prompting and wrecks havoc on everything they know. She rips away their routine and replaces it with unpredictable events, summoned by her presence alone in these lands. She moves like nothing ties her down anywhere, but she’s restless. The tightness around her shoulders makes her small and fragile, when her entire attitude seems to prove she is none of that.

Madara doesn’t understand her. Her words and her actions are hard to parse, and he’s not sure she understands herself sometimes. She is simply grander than life itself.

“I hope you’ll play a game with me one day, Madara.” Reiko doesn’t fully face him but a small smile pulls up her lips. “You can’t run away from me forever!”

“Hmpf. I’m not interested in these childish games.”

“You’ll change your mind eventually!”

Reiko waves her hand and disappears in the forest, probably heading back to the home of her caretakers. Madara actually doesn’t know if she does live with them—she could have taken up residence in one of the old shrines with how often she visits them, for all he knows.

Madara curls up and closes his eyes. The Book of Friends, she’s called it. Such an innocent name for what is probably the most dangerous weapon against youkais—and it is simply used by a sentimental girl as a personal reassurance she is not alone.

Natsume Reiko already has friends. She just chooses not to see it.

#natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsume reiko #nyanko sensei #madara #rattles the bars of my cage i want to know what their relationship was like!!#i love the idea of sensei finding reiko interesting but also feeling sad for her #please @ midorikawa i need answers

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