#Self-Love Gemstone Kit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twistedtavern · 2 years

Note

🍀 with selfaware!jamil finding his way out to a reader who loves him? poor boy needs some comfort

ANONNIE YOU SLAY ME 😭😭😭😭 HE NEEDS LOVE PLEASE

Disclaimer: This is a deviation from the planned plot of the Self Aware AU. It has spoilers for content that has been revealed, but not yet written at the time this post is published. If you want to know beforehand the events mentioned, look at this and this post before reading.

CW: mentions of traumatizing events, cults

Life was hard. You knew that better than anyone. Work, day in and day out, defined you, and you were sick of it. It was like everyone saw you as a welcome mat, pushing you to your limits and hardly even remembering your name in return.

In your fleeting moments of respite, you had once turned to the familiar worlds of the movies that has made up your childhood, but now that interest had taken on a new form. Twisted Wonderland, your new favorite game, which had in it Jamil Viper, your new favorite character. He was on your homescreen, he showed up when you logged in more than any other character, and it was him who seemed to have the most comforting dialogue out of all the others. Jamil's determination to undermine the one who kept him prisoner all his life while still keeping himself out of notice resonated with you deeper than you knew.

And you resonated with him.

The warmth of your love was overpowering. His heart could barely take just how much love and attention and pure understanding was poured into it. You knew him, not only at his best, or when he allows himself to be overshadowed, or at his worst, but all of him. You knew how much he hated bugs, how he used to evade his mother's wrath by hiding in pots, how much the pain of minimizing himself at every opportunity has become so commonplace that it had faded.

You were away now, off slaving away at whatever it was that had demanded your attention, and so was he. It was simply another day under the watch of this insufferable cult. The love you had given him came with its price when the script was not there to shield him. Raw, writhing envy clouded the gazes of his classmates, directing hateful glares in his direction. Sometimes, their eyes bore into his soul with fathomless, hollow expressions that carved a deep feeling of unease into him. Even Kalim, who Jamil had once known not to have a single jealous bone in his body, now did not speak to him without being first spoken to. The red in his eyes that had always reminded Jamil of the vibrant silks of home in years past now did not seem stained with dye, but with fresh blood.

He was not safe here.

He could not take it anymore.

He had to get out.

The ritual is today.

Jamil had been packing for days, everything he had considered essentials was tucked away in a magical backpack that he had enchanted himself. It was easy to hide, far deeper than it was on the outside, and magically connected to his pockets. He had everything he thought he would need, a spare broomstick, potion ingredients, a few completed potions, grimoires, food, water, first aid kit, nondescript clothing, and multiple handfuls of expensive gemstones and jewelery from the hidden crevices of the treasure hoard for anything else he might need. He did not know if magic would work in this new world, or if he would even get there, but now was the time where he not only could demonstrate his potential, but had to.

There was still room in the bag. All the essentials that he did not need on hand daily were packed and secure, and Jamil considered what else he could take with him. If this was truly his last day in the world he was born from, he would at least like to take the good with him, and maybe show it to you.

A picture of his family, a few of his favorite CDs, his headphones, a box of his favorite tea, some of the most comfortable pillows, a few of his favorite books, and his dancing shoes.

As Jamil looked around his room, he realized just how little he had allowed himself to get attached to here. With those few things removed, the space looked almost barren. His heart squeezed as he noticed just how much freedom he would have if he made it to the other side. Freedom to express himself, to push his limits instead of hide them, to love you, to love himself. Every morning he would wake up for him, and if everything went right, with you by his side.

It seemed almost impossible, but now was not the time to get cynical. He had to let himself believe, he had to. Jamil would either successfully get out or die trying, and either was better than being here.

Jamil heard a lone pair of footsteps come down the hall, and he froze to listen. The ritual would be happening today, and he could not miss it. The chatter between the members of the cult was easy to decipher, and though he had been thoroughly excluded from it due to how much the player preferred him, he had long since figured out what they were plotting. He would be a fool if he neglected to use Snake Whisper to his advantage, especially now that it was a matter of your safety.

He waited for the footsteps to pass from the door far enough, then quickly moved to peek through the door. He saw a glimpse of shoulder-length orange hair, and knew immediately that it was one of the cultists. Cater, he remembered his name being, and he was headed towards Kalim's room. Normally, he would have stopped him, but he knew what it was for, and what would likely happen to him should he interfere.

Jamil quickly hid the backpack in his closet as the footsteps returned, now accompanied by a second pair. The two stopped directly in front of his door, and his heartbeat quickened. The door handle moved just the slightest bit, before a hushed voice that was too quiet for him to decipher whose it was seemed to discourage it. The handle shifted back, and the jangling of a key ring was heard before the telltale sound of a lock could be heard.

" Kalim?" he called from the other side, injecting a fear he did not feel into his voice, " what are you doing?"

The pair walked away wordlessly, and Jamil tried pushing against the doors, knowing full well it wouldn't work. He tried remembering which pocket of the backpack he had put the vial with the alloy in as he gave a few final pounds against the door with his fist. He stepped away from the door, having made a show of being trapped, and now was the time to work on his escape.

Jamil rummaged through the backpack for the vials and bottles of potions for the right substance, pulling out one with a distinctive velvet-colored liquid that had a metallic sheen. He went over to the window, paned only with intricate gold filigree, and pulled the collar of his dorm uniform up over his mouth and nose as he uncorked the vial. Small drops of the liquid were cautiously doled out along the perimeter of the filigree, melting the gold that prevented his escape until he was able to grab hold and pull. The process was nerve-wrackingly slow, but eventually the panel came out without much struggle, and Jamil tossed it aside.

He corked the now-empty vial, reaching to put it back in the bag and retrieve his broomstick in exchange. He zipped it up, slung it over his shoulders, and walked to the other side of the room. Jamil squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, shoved his screaming doubts to the back of his mind, and pushed off, running towards the open escape route to build up momentum, broom in hand.

In seconds, he was running, stepping up onto the table, then the windowsill, and throwing himself from its ledge out into the air. And for the barest few moments, he considered, just for a little while, simply falling. Simply just... letting go of the broomstick and allowing himself to fall all those stories down... down... down... down... down... down... until everything went black and there was no pain, no need to escape, no more days where he felt overworked and underappreciated, no more sleepless nights, no more hiding.

Jamil closed his eyes as the ground got closer and closer...

And in one fluid motion, was atop the broomstick, pulling up just a bare few feet off the ground, and shooting off into the hot desert sky. It didn't matter if he didn't make it, if the connection between the worlds was too unstable to support his crossing, he would never let that filthy cult get their hands on you. He would see you every day until his last, even if that day was today. No doubt in his mind could dissuade him from his path of war as he soared at top speed towards the mirror.

Hellfire, thy name is Jamil Viper.

Jamil shot out into the mirror hall, students ducking and dodging out of the way with cries that were immediately swallowed up by the winds. Reaching into his pocket as he curved his path sharply to head for the school, he began the spell once he felt the pen in his hand. A flaming orange barrier swirled to life around him and the broom, leaving a trail in the air like the tail of a raging comet. Frantically looking over the school's spiralling towers, his sights locked on the very tallest.

The mirror room.

It only made sense. He could almost feel the dark magic pulsing from it, beckoning him closer to stamp it out at its roots. The tallest tower of the castle, clawing at the heavens, almost as if to peirce the glass above, the only thing keeping them separated from the player. As Jamil neared the building, he could see something on the balcony through the spiralling magic. It was gray, white, and blue, and as he got nearer, he could see its tiny frame. The familiar shape of the flaming ears was clear for just long enough that Jamil could see it.

It was the Prefect's sidekick, lifting himself onto the railing with his little front paws, completely split open from the forehead to the stomach, his shell hollow.

The circle of blood red candles and shining rose quartz was surrounded by all of its creators, each gaze transfixed on the open makeshift coffin they had made in its center. The coffin was pitch black with intricate gold patterns that elegantly framed a lock and mirror. Circled by broomsticks, purple gemstones, and shards of shattered glass, it was surely a sight to see. Inside the coffin was the bound form of the Prefect, with one single black key laid upon their unmoving chest with their tied hands laid over it. White flowers of purity and innocence in love were laid beside them, making it almost look as if they were dead.

But the lifeless cannot die.

The mirror room shone with ominous light as the dark mirror dripped splattered blood out into the tranquil fountain of water below it. Seven hollow shells of faceless students were laid out along the edge of the circle, half-open to reveal the purple silhouettes that had been encased inside of them to hide their identities. The silhouettes bled out from inside their prisons of skin that did not belong to them, each impaled by a shard of glass from the mirror itself.

Malleus Draconia, at the head of the ritual, extended his arms out towards the black coffin, followed by those that surrounded him. It slammed shut, beginning to rise from the floor. His voice, echoing powerfully through the mirror hall, commanded " You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth..."

The others raised their voices as sparks of all colors began to fly frantically, pulling themselves together into the shape of a golden key as they spoke in unison.

" REVEAL UNTO ME THE NATURE OF YOUR SOUL!"

The coffin rose higher as the key sped towards the lock, pushing itself in and turning with a resounding click. The black lid began to open, and a golden, almost heavenly light began to pour out from it. It swirled in place, forming a perfect swirling portal.

" Yes... YES!" the dragon fae roared in triumph, " GO! Bring them to me!"

And just as they were about to surge into the open portal, the shattering of glass stopped them dead in their tracks. It was Jamil, arms shielding his face in the barest seconds it took for the magic around the broom to begin detonating. The force of the magic blast knocked some of them off their feet, crying out in shock and surprise. The Scarabia vice housewarden made a dive for the portal, bracing himself against his broomstick as hard as he could.

He could make it, he could make it, he could make it, he could make it, he could make it, he could make it, he could make it, he could make it, he could make it to the other side, he could see your face, he could hold you close, he could hear your voice, he could survive.

Plummeting through the brightness, the wrath of the draconic cult leader fading rapidly behind him, Jamil shut his eyes. He was suddenly hit with a sudden shift in direction, slipping off his broom as the feeling like he was being pulled upwards overtook him. Panic overtook his senses as he was swung around wildly by the current of the portal, terrified of what would be next for him.

You had already long been stirred from your sleep, hearing distant sounds of faint voices coming from your phone, and having felt how it was scalding to the touch. The screen had turned white, and was vibrating off the hook. Your back was against the wall, desk lamp firmly pointed at the device like a weapon.

Suddenly, out of what seemed to be thin air, something appeared in your bedroom, flinging itself and two other objects from where your phone had been to the floor in front of you with a grunt of pain as it landed heavily. You suppressed the scream that built up in your throat as the figure sat up, revealing itself to be quite person-shaped. The strange intruder looked back at where they came from, quickly moving to shut off the phone before you could protest.

As the screen went dark and the vibrations ceased, Jamil stopped. He let out a ragged breath he didn't realize he was holding in, and knew he just had to stop and let everything sink in and-

" W-Who the hell are you?!?" you demanded, eyes wide and still against the wall.

Jamil whirled around, hands raised in surrender, his black eyes catching on yours. And, for a moment, all he could do was stare. It was... you. The player. The person who loved and understood him most, the person who he had endured these days of struggle for, the person who he had crossed the boundaries of reality for.

It worked.

Jamil had to take a few seconds to find his voice, the budding emotions swirling in his chest, " I... I did it... It worked..." he lowered his hands, a smile starting to form on his face as a faint laugh escaped him, " I-I'm here! With you! It's me!!"

Your expression went slack, your brain trying to wrap around exactly what was going on here. You were playing the game, fell asleep, were woken up by your phone going haywire, and then your favorite character apparently flew out of the screen and was standing directly in front of you. Apparently, your hands had gone slack as well, and you dropped your weaponized desk lamp, the sound of it hitting the floor making both of you jump.

And, for a few moments, you and Jamil just stared at it. Silence overtook the room, stilted and thick, until a sound cut through the darkness. A poorly contained laugh, soft and clearly one of nervousness. One led to another in response, until both were doubled over, just laughing together.

" Why did that scare me so bad? I'm just dreaming..." you managed to say, a certain sadness settling into your eyes. You looked at him, that sadness settling deeper. Jamil had stopped laughing once he heard you speak, his black eyes baring into your own. Not in search of something, not to use his power, but purely in sheer, overwhelming adoration. You were here, in front of him, looking directly at him, not through a screen, but at him.

" I guess, since it's a dream, I might as well..." you said softly. At first he felt a bit of confusion, might as well what? His question was almost immediately answered, however, by you quickly moving to wrap your arms around him. Jamil's body became stiff as a board, eyes wide, since this was one of the last things he expected. He blinked, trying to process everything that was happening right now, and what would never happen again.

You felt his chest heave with the beginnings of a sob and gently gave him a squeeze, feeling the distraught boy cling to you with all he had. He made a strangled sound, like he was about to truly start crying, but took a sharp breath in to stop it. It was a heartbreaking sound, especially coming from someone so deprived and repressed, and it made you pull back to look him in the eyes. Something about how he tried immediately to hide his face made you think that this was far from a dream, but that was something you didn't want to unpack right now, so you just focused on comforting him.

" Jamil," you said softly, " It's okay. Let's get to bed, alright?"

Jamil sniffled, and you took his hand in yours to lead him to the bed. Pulling up the covers and getting in, you waited for him to do the same. He took off his shoes and backpack before awkwardly making his way to your side, looking at you like a sad puppy. You smiled softly, gently moving his hair aside to place a kiss on his forehead. His face heated up, and he hid his face with his hands again. You patted the spot next to you and asked in a whisper, " Do you want to cuddle?"

He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head no. It was all too much right now, he wasn't sure he would be able to take it.

You looked sad for only the barest second, but said " Alright, I won't make you," and got yourself comfortable, " Good night. <3"

But, before you drifted off, you held one of his hands again, rubbing the pad of your thumb over his knuckles to soothe him. He was surprised at first, but didn't pull away. And, slowly but surely, it seemed to take effect. He fell asleep, his face still feeling warm, and soon you did too.

What a nice dream this is...

You awoke to the smell of curry and an empty bed, sleepily smiling. Your neighbors must be cooking, it smells really good, too. You got up out of bed, not registering the second patch of leftover warmth that had been very close to yours. Walking out of the bedroom, it turned out the smell of curry and the sounds of cooking were coming from your kitchen, which was a VERY alarming realization. Thinking someone had broken into your house and started cooking, of all things, you rushed to go see who it was.

Jamil nearly jumped out of his shell when you rounded the corner in a panic, whirling around to look at you. Both of you stared at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what to do but still scared witless.

" Y-You... YOU'RE REAL?!?"

" YES?"

" THAT WASN'T A DREAM?!?"

" YES??"

" YOU'RE REAL?!?!?"

" YES!"

Thoroughly blindsided by this turn of events, you gripped the side of the counter for support, trying to process it. Jamil tentatively stepped closer to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. There was one thought coursing through your brain right now, blaring like a siren.

You had Jamil Viper in your bed.

This boy, who was not even supposed to be on the same plane of existence as you, let alone in the same room, had been crying and sleeping and holding your hand in your bed.

" W-Wait, why are you here? How did you even get here?" you asked, genuinely confused.

" That... requires a LOT of explaining, and the curry is almost finished. I'll go over it when we start eating," he said simply. You just nodded and moved to get out some plates and silverware for him, but stopped when you realized that he had already done it. Come to think of it, he was already completely ready for the day. Hair done, makeup, fully dressed in clothes you had never seen him in before, and meanwhile you had literally just rolled out of bed.

But still, you didn't want to just leave it to him, so you grabbed some cups and asked " Do you want something to drink?"

" I've already had something. You can sit down while I get this plated," he said dismissively.

You pouted, knowing how hard he works. Having half a mind to just grab the pan yourself, you huffed " Jamiiil, I just want to help you! I'll plate it, just go to the table."

At first, he looked at you in surprise, but his eyes softened as he gave you a nod and walked over to the table, leaving you to do the rest. You happily scooped the rice and curry onto the plates, taking them over to Jamil to give him his food and sit down.

" Thank you," he said softly, his expression sweetened with a bit of softness in his eyes and smile. You smiled back at him, sending a burst of warmth into him that manifested as a blush. The two of you started eating, and seeing your eyes light up from the taste of his cooking almost made the poor boy keel over on the spot from how cute it was.

About halfway through, what he had said before began to haunt your brain again, and you looked up from your plate. You decided that it was time to pry, since he said he would tell you.

" ...Jamil?"

" Mmh?" he replied, mouth half-full of curry and looking like a deer in headlights.

" Why- well actually I'm more interested in the how, but just... You're here. How? Why?" you had stumbled a bit, but you trusted him to understand your confusion.

He swallowed, averting his gaze as he thought about how best to explain it. Jamil looked back at you, " It's a long story, but we were alive in the game. We weren't aware that we were actually in a game, though. Not until something happened that forced us to become aware, but it happened differently for each of us."

" Wait, we? It wasn't just you?"

" Anybody with eyes you can see," he explained.

" Then what happened to you?" you asked. It was a harmless question, but you saw his expression darken and his gaze become distant.

" Something very painful," he stated blankly, " And I'm glad I never forgave them. I wouldn't be here with you otherwise."

His eyes softened as he said the last part, but you were incredibly worried. Jamil moved his hand closer to yours, and when he hesitated, you gently grabbed it, " They hurt you?"

He wrapped his other hand around yours and shook his head, " It doesn't matter anymore. You're safe now, I'm free, and that's all I care about," he said. You had a million other questions swimming around in your head, but Jamil let go of your hand, " We'll talk more about it later, but you should finish eating before it gets cold."

You hesitated, but gave a relenting nod and turned to eat again. It gave you time to mull over your questions and the answers you got, some sending a shudder up your spine and making you swallow hard. It scared you to think of what could possibly have happened to Jamil while he was in the game, and the implication of you only being safe now. You felt something on your shoulder, looking over to see Jamil standing beside you, empty plate in hand, as he tried to give you a little bit of comfort.

You leaned into his touch, still not fully comprehending any of what was going on, but glad that at least it was the character you loved the most that turned out to apparently be alive and able to come into reality. It made you wonder...

Did he know? Did he love you too?

And where were you going to hide that Aladdin disk before he finds out and has an existential crisis?

~JAMIL VIPER: LOVERS END~

#self aware jamil #self aware au #self aware twst #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper

765 notes · View notes

metalicious-jewelry · 1 year

Text

A Guide to Selenite Cleansing Crystal and Ethically Sourced Crystal Set

Healing crystals have been revered for centuries for their mystical and spiritual properties. At Metalicious.com, we bring you an exquisite collection of ethically sourced healing stones. This post will explore the enchanting world of crystals, focusing on Selenite cleansing crystals, ethically sourced crystal sets, Rose Quartz heart stones, Anxiety calming gemstones, Rainbow Moonstone crystals, Ruby Crystal palm stone, and self-love gemstone kits. Discover the magic and healing powers these crystals can offer.

The Purifying Light: Embracing the Selenite Essence

Selenite is a powerful crystal known for its cleansing and purifying properties. It is believed to dispel negative energy and promote clarity of mind. With its ethereal glow, Selenite Cleansing Crystal creates a serene ambiance, making it ideal for meditation and spiritual practices.

Harmony in a Collection: The Significance of Ethical Sourcing

Our ethically sourced crystal sets are carefully curated to ensure each crystal is sustainably and responsibly obtained. Embrace the harmonious energy of crystal combinations, carefully selected to enhance specific intentions.

l The Stone of Love: Opening the Heart Chakra

Rose Quartz Heart Stone, the stone of unconditional love, is believed to open the heart chakra, fostering love, compassion, and self-acceptance. Its gentle pink hue exudes a calming and comforting aura.

Finding Inner Peace: Crystals to Soothe Anxiety

Anxiety calming gemstones, such as Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, and Lepidolite, are known for their calming and grounding properties. Embrace their soothing energy to find tranquility during stressful times.

Embrace the Divine Feminine: Tapping into Intuition

Rainbow Moonstone Crystal, with its iridescent glow, is associated with divine feminine energy and intuition. It is believed to enhance intuition and provide emotional balance.

The Stone of Passion: Igniting Passion and Vitality

Ruby, the stone of passion and vitality, is said to stimulate the heart chakra and ignite a sense of passion for life. Ruby Crystal Palm Stone Embraces its vibrant energy for enhanced motivation.

Conclusion

The world of healing crystals is a fascinating realm of energy and spirituality. Each crystal offers unique magic, from the purifying Selenite to the heart-opening Rose Quartz and the calming influence of anxiety-calming gemstones. Metalicious.com is dedicated to providing ethically sourced and powerful healing crystals to enhance your well-being.

#Selenite Cleansing Crystal #Ethically Sourced Crystal Set #Rose Quartz Heart Stone #Anxiety Calming Gemstone #Rainbow Moonstone Crystal #Ruby Crystal Palm Stone #Self-Love Gemstone Kit #metalicious jewelry #unique custom jewelry #unique handcrafted jewelry #alternative bridal jewelry #unique handmade jewelry #handmade jewelry #buy pearls jewelry online #new stylish jewelry #stylish jewelry #antique jewelry collection

0 notes

thegracelessfaceless · 3 years

Text

𒆜 .12 (ǝɔɐɹ⅁ ǝsɹnN x ʎqo⊥ ıɔɔı⊥) sɔıʇɐɯɐɹpɹǝʌO puɐ sʇɔǝɟɟƎ punoS𒆜

Sorry this one took a little bit, life got a little busy! But I'm back, so make sure to follow for updates 🧡

Link to chapter selection

Toby wasn't in the bedroom when I walked in. I knocked on the bathroom door and got no reply. Closing my eyes, I sent out a searching thread of my awareness and sent it out into the house. I found him talking to Tommy in the kitchen area, which was huge, kitted out like a professional chef's kitchen.

"But what if she doesn't like me?" Tommy asked, his brown eyes full of worry.

"Of course she likes you, Tommy, or she wouldn't talk to you" Toby reassured him.

"No, I mean, what if she doesn't like me like that?"

"Oh" Toby sighed loudly and rubbed the back of his neck, "Um, I'm not really good with that kind of stuff. Do you want to talk to Grace instead?"

"What do you mean you're not good at it? Grace loves you." Tommy wore a stubborn pout, not able to understand.

I covered your mouth to hold back a giggle. Apparently Toby hadn't noticed I was eavesdropping, and I wanted to see what he said. It was cute watching Toby deal with other peoples' emotions, because he was right. He wasn't very good at it.

"Grace is... Different from most women. Really, I was just myself." Toby shrugged, "I don't get why she'd want to love someone like me. But she does. I'm not gonna argue with it."

"So I should just be myself?" Tommy asked this quietly, "But what if she doesn't like that?"

"Then she's not the one" Toby breathed and I felt my heart swell, and had so much to say, but Toby was handling it beautifully. "Anyway, I came to pick up some food for me and Grace. Meeting ran over."

"I think that all the food's been put up now" Tommy said, leading Toby further into the kitchen, "But there's loads of food here! Anything you and Grace could want and more!!"

Toby let out an amused chuff, "Yeah, I'm sure I'll find something. What do you have planned now that work's done?"

Tommy smiled shyly, "I asked Myra if she wanted to go for a night walk."

Toby opened the fridge, "That should be nice. Just keep her close. Sometimes the woods like to play games, and you wouldn't want to lose her, true?" He leaned in and started grabbing containers with his long fingered, scarred hands. I pulled away, not wanting Toby to notice I was there and headed to the shower, stopping at the dresser to pick up some clean underwear and pajamas.

I took a shower, relaxing with the hot water. While drying off, the glint of the gemstones in the ring caught my attention in the mirror. I guessed it was the actual physical representation of the commitment between myelf and Toby. And he wore a ring too, had insisted on it. It was a partnership not an ownership. And he wanted that for the rest of his life.

My breath came short as I thought of a lifetime with Toby. But surely it couldn't be like this forever, one disaster to the next. Toby had told me about how he wanted a house like Caleb's but in the mountains, and how he wanted a garden, to be self sufficient. Did I want that too?

'I mean you could've.'

I looked at my reflection, wrapped in a towel as I combed my hair out.

Yeah. I did.

And instantly, I felt better. I did want that place in the mountains with a garden. More than that, I wanted forever with Toby. He put my mind at ease like a favorite sweater. He could be so commanding, but still had a ton of boyish charm. He ignited a passion in me that I hadn't even been aware of. Honestly, I wished I'd known him sooner.

I tightened the towel around my chest after jumping, "Millie! Jesus Christ don't do that!"

Millie was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, grinning, 'Sorry! It's not like I can just know when you can suddenly hear me, or see me. It's kinda random.'

I hugged my towel to me and joined Millie on the edge of the tub, "Yeah, I guess you're right. What were you saying?"

'Oh! Right... I was saying you could've known Toby earlier. It would've been a longshot though.'

"What?! No. I'd remember-"

'It was at some game. Toby came with me because I wanted to hang out with friends, but he didn't want me going alone.' Millie smiled, 'You know how he is. Anyway, I was dragging him to the concessions stand to meet Marie and accidentally made him run over this girl. You. He was so embarrassed!'

I thought back to high school football games. High school football games against Forest Lawn. There was one, junior year. Mrs. Glover, my biology teacher, had left her bag in the band room. Her husband was the band director and his directing gloves were in it. She had asked me to go get the bag for her, and she was closer to a friend than a teacher. So I'd taken off, weaving in and out of the crowd coming in from the parking lot.

I ran smack into someone's chest, someone taller. He was wearing an Atreyu shirt and jeans with worn black Converse and was stretched tall and thin. I looked up, my hands still on his chest, his bandaged hands gripping my forearms. Pale, pale skin and a thin angular face framed by messy fluffy chestnut hair and dark circles under his eyes. His eyes squeezed shut, his face contorting in a grimace before smoothing back out. He opened his eyes. They were honey colored and wide as they looked down at me. A girl who looked like she could be his sister was holding on to his shirt sleeve like she'd been pulling him.

"I'm sorry" I said as he slowly let go of me. I pulled my hands away from his chest and shoved them into my pockets, "I should've been looking where I was going."

A blush started on the boys cheeks as the girl called and walked away, faint but there. He opened his mouth to reply, but all that would come were stutters and stammers. He let out an exasperated sigh and took off in the direction of the girl, pushing through the crowd.

"Oh my god" I said and looked at Millie in shock, "How did you remember that?"

'Sometimes when I'm bored, I go through his memories. This one was way far in the back, in stuff he doesn't remember really. He's come such a long way, my baby brother.'

I started laughing then, having to double over to hold my stomach. Millie had essentially just confessed to reading Toby's diary.

'What?' Millie asked, bending to look at my face, confused, 'What is it, Grace?' I just kept laughing, seeing the irony in it all now. 'Damn it, Grace! What's so funny?'

I fought to contain yourself, taking deep slow breaths and finally said, "I remember him! I remember it all! I also remember crushing pretty hard on that unnamed boy with a stutter for a couple weeks after."

And then I was laughing again and so was Millie. We both sat there for a few moments before I heard Toby in the bedroom, "Grace?"

Millie dematerialized, gone suddenly, and I managed to get out, "In here" and then started working on controlling my laughter. I had just managed it when Toby came in to find me sitting, wrapped in a towel, on the edge of the tub. Unfortunately, Toby's vision was just good enough to see the tears from laughing so hard on my cheeks.

Toby rushed over, face worried and he bent over me to turn my face upward and wipe the tears away.

"What's wrong, sweetness?" He peppered my cheeks with kisses, "Why are you crying?"

I smiled and said, "I was laughing. With Millie."

Toby's body relaxed and he let out a relieved sigh. He kissed my forehead and then pulled away to smile crookedly down at me, "Laughing, huh? Must've been pretty funny." Curiosity gleamed in his eyes, and his expression was very interested. "What was it?"

A chuckle escaped me and I pushed it back down before the rest could bubble up, "Millie made me remember something. A guy I met in high school." Toby's posture stiffened, and I wondered what was wrong before realizing that Toby was jealous. Of himself. It burned in his eyes. A smile curled my lips, "I was helping one of my teachers at a game, junior year. I ran into this guy. He was tall and thin with dark hair." Toby was outright frowning now, not amused in the slightest. "He had these amazing honey colored eyes."

Toby's expression softened as he realized I was describing him and he let out a short laugh of disbelief, "And then when you apologized, all he could do was stutter like an idiot, and then run away?"

"You said the idiot part, not me, I thought it was cute." I stood up and rose to kiss Toby's crooked nose, "But you didn't have to run away."

Toby started laughing full out then, out of nowhere. He laughed so hard that he had to sit on the edge of the tub while he held his ribs. "I tried to-" Toby doubled over, a new wave of laughter hitting him, making me giggle. "I tried to tell-" the laughs were dying down into giggles and then spasms of the diaphragm and I patiently waited, trying not to laugh, thinking it would set both of us off again. Toby took some deep breaths and blinked wet eyes at me, shaking with one last spasm of laughter, "I just got done telling Tommy that I'm not good with dating advice. And that, what you just remembered, is proof." He hugged me to him, "You really thought I was cute?"

I laughed and looked up into Toby's eyes, remembering the color of them before the cataracts, "The cutest. I thought about you for a good two weeks."

"Only two weeks?" Toby teased, "'The cutest' only got two weeks?!"

"Well it's not like I had much to go on, ya know? Besides he's got me for life now."

Toby grinned down at me, "Given." He sighed, still teasing, "I guess I can overlook it. Besides, maybe I wasn't ready. I was a different guy back then, angry."

He bent his head and I rose up on my tiptoes to kiss him, tasting coffee and of all things, butterscotch candy on his lips. I pulled away in surprise, "Is that butterscotch? Candy? You?!" i picked up your pajamas and started putting them on, copper colored satin shorts and a camisole with black lace edging.

"I found them in the kitchen. Butterscotch is the best" Toby smiled, his eyes distant, "Mr. Crothers used to give them to me and Danny back... Before everything."

I was glad Toby had Mr. Crothers and Danny, but knew that arch of Toby's story was just as tragic, if not more. The man and his son had been closer to an actual family than his own had been.

"Butterscotch is pretty good... What else did you find in the kitchen?"

Toby grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bedroom. There was a basket sitting on the bed, an honest to gods picnic basket.

"I didn't know what to bring, so I brought a few things. Tommy found the basket so I wouldn't lose anything."

I opened the basket and found it was packed full. A few things indeed. There were four wrapped sandwiches, two marked with a sloppy T, the other two bearing and equally sloppy H, Toby's chickenscratch making another appearance. A covered bowl had chips in it. There were two Thermoses, and a few bottles of water. A little box with sugar and creamer packets sat next to a small carton of sweet cream. A covered plate bore cheese slices, fruit and cut vegetables. A small box was marked 'snickerdoodle' in an unfamiliar cursive script, probably labeled by a kitchen worker.

"There's tea in the Thermos, apple cinnamon, and I put some red hots in it. You can put however much sugar you want. Or there's coffee." Toby started sitting out everything on the desk.

"Geez Toby, we'll never be able to eat all of this." I picked up one of the sandwiches that I assumed was turkey and unwrapped it to take a bite. Turkey and swiss on fresh sourdough bread with crispy lettuce and the perfect amount of honey mustard. I covered my mouth to say, "This sandwich alone is massive."

Toby smiled, "I made them myself" and he started unwrapping another sandwich, this one ham. It had yellow cheese and what looked like barbecue sauce between the bread and lettuce. I sat the sandwich down and unscrewed the top of the thermos with tea in it and poured some in the lid/cup to taste. It actually didn't need any sugar at all and I poured an entire cup.

The two of us ate until I felt like I couldn't fit another bite and still Toby tried to convince me to eat more. I'd already eaten the sandwich, some of the chips, a few pieces of cheese, and half the fruit and vegetables.

"Are you sure? There's still a strawberry left. Big, juicy one too" Toby tempted.

I collapsed on my side of the bed, "Eat it for me, I don't have room left." Toby chuckled and put the berry down. He crawled up onto the bed beside me and laid down.

"I don't either" Toby sighed, rubbing his stomach. He'd actually eaten enough that it stuck out a little and I reached over to give it a gentle pat, "Oh no, don't sweetness" he laughed as he brought his knees up reflexively, "If you do that again, all the food will come up, I can feel it. Too full."

I yawned, "It's pretty late anyways. And I can feel a food coma coming."

Toby let out a snore and I laughed to myself as I cuddled into Toby's side and closed my eyes, sleep sucking at the edges of me.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #tobias andrew adams #ticci toby x nurse grace #sound effects and overdramatics #creepypasta fluff #ticci toby fluff

10 notes · View notes

botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Text

Where Time Takes Us

Destination - Part 2

- - - - - - - - - -

The public opinion of the Royal Family had dwindled compared to previous years, though that wasn’t to say everyone was against them. In fact, the establishment of divine right and intervention was very much intact in the years prior, and most folk were supportive of the projects and developments that would supposedly protect the kingdom. However, there was a stemming internal conflict between the “solemn” princess and her would-be associates and advisors. Understand, for this time period, that faith towards leaders and figureheads was a combination of their apparent strength and confidence in their duty and labour, coupled with a bit of humanity and relatability. From first hand diary documents, we can already piece together that first half of that story. As for the latter, well...

They say the Princess hadn’t even once visited the Queen’s grave.

I think that’s when they started to lose hope.

— Excerpt from Clocks and Passages, Gerudo historian, Kemisie Patel, 14 years Pre-Awakening

- - - - - - - - - -

Her mother used to do her hair, before special ceremonies like these.

Her father, well, he would always remind her of the importance of appearances, for royalty should always look dignified and strong. Even before she could walk, he would commission thousands of dresses. Tailors would customize the cloth to her every measure, with stitches etched with gold that only a king like him could afford. Then, when it was done, he would kiss her forehead and tell her she looked stunning. Stunning. The same word for every occasion. A stunning white dress. A stunning pair of boots. A stunning blue coat. For a party. A meeting. A ball. Every time, it was stunning, stunning, stunning.

Yet her mother, she would always choose her words carefully. She would take her hand and sit her down on the bed. No matter what her dress or coat, or whatever pre-prepared style she was already in, her mother would smooth out the cloth on her back, and part the hair behind her neck. She would brush and brush and brush, then braid and braid and braid. The queen would talk of simple fairy tales, or of intriguing conversations she had that day, or of interesting new facts, or of new embarrassing anecdotes that would never cease to make her daughter laugh. The princess’ hair would transform from an elaborate mess of self-inflicted ribbons and tangles to a simple, yet elegant, crown braid.

Then her mother would ask, “Do you like it?” and every time she would say yes. Of course she liked it, because her dear mother had done it, and no one else could do it better. No bun, or tie, or ribbon, or crown would compare to the touch of her mother’s fingers, weaving together her golden hair. The two of them would get up and look in the mirror. The princess’ outfit might change, but she was never surprised by her hair. Her mother would squeeze her shoulders, and rest her chin upon her head, her only concerning being the smile on her daughter’s face. Her mother would sing more words. Lovely, charming, enchanting, beguiling. Perhaps beautiful, magnificent, exquisite, or cute.

She wasn’t talking about the dress or the hair. Her words were meant for her daughter alone.

The queen would take her daughter’s hand and they would walk towards the door. Before the princess could take a step outside the room, her mother would squeeze her hand. Her sentence would start the same. “My little bird,” she would begin, her voice as sweet as honey. The queen would hold her daughter’s hand, and whisper to her little bird. Perhaps a joke to calm the nerves, or one last assurance before a ceremony. Sometimes the words were simple, and sometimes they were complex. Nonetheless, the princess would listen to her voice and smile, before finally stepping out the door.

Her mother, she would do her hair, and sing, and speak, and whisper one last thing to her little bird, before watching the princess leave. Her mother, the Queen of Hyrule, would always speak of little things.

And then she died.

And Zelda had long forgotten all the words.

The princess stood in front of the mirror, watching the woman tend to her dress. Zelda didn’t bother to look at her reflection, it would be the same as any other time. A royal blue dress, atop a snow white blouse, and all lined with gold trim, so as to match her own golden hair. She had gotten over the initial beauty of the dress a long time ago.

So instead, she looked out the window. The day had risen, its light passing through glass panes, dousing the princess’ room with its warm, yellow light. The outline of the window’s frame and design cast shadows onto the floor, capturing Zelda’s shadow in a web of thin lines.

Outside, the view was as it was yesterday: the aged grey walls of the castle exterior, pressed against a beautiful horizon of grassy fields and weathered silver peaks. From where she stood, the window was less of a view, and more of a small painting, a tiny portal of the world affixed to a sorry stack of stone bricks. With the way the sunlight hit the glass pane, the shapes of Hyrule faded into simple colors, blurred by the walls of the bedroom and her own reflection staring back at her.

There was the Princess of Hyrule, right where she belonged.

Her emerald eyes gazed back at her. They were tired.

Suddenly, the woman finished working on something at the hem of Zelda’s dress. She stood and patted her shoulder with a smile.

“All done, Your Highness. You look stunning!”

Zelda turned to look at her through the mirror. She put on a smile and said, “Thank you, Evelyn.” The princess stepped away, walking around the room.

The woman gave a little curtsy. “Can I do anything else for you while I’m here, miss?”

Zelda started to sit on her bed, resting her legs after an hour or so of standing. She shook her head.

“It’s alright, thank you. You may go.” She gave one last soft smile, for assurances. The tailor, Evelyn, gave a curtsey, and started to pack up her sewing kit, humming to herself.

Zelda turned to the nightstand beside her bed. It was a clutter of papers, notes, and ink, although it was nothing compared to her desk on the other end of the room. Brushing them into a neat pile, the princess opened the drawer under it.

It held two things. One was a soft, velvet pillow, holding a golden diadem, woven like vines. The detailed indentations in the metal were crafted with care and precision, and the perfectly symmetrical gold bands wove towards the front, where it cradled three ruby gemstones. The diadem was meant to be an elegant headpiece, displaying the grace and power of the Hyrulean Family.

The second thing in the drawer was a stuffed horse.

Mr. Roberts was flopped on his side, his crudely made glasses askew on his snout. The horse was fluffy, a solid tan brown, with white socks and a pink nose. The yarn that made his flowing, blond mane was splayed out against the plain oak wood of the drawer.

Zelda propped him up, fixing his glasses, before patting him on his head. Mr. Roberts, afterall, was a respected keeper of the quills, who was paid with nightly cuddles. He had been in his position for nearly 16 years, a life-time partner with the princess herself. This was why he had the honor of being kept by the nightstand whenever visitors came, instead of shoved hurriedly under the bed, like all her other stuffed animals.

Her smile came and went like a breeze. Zelda sighed. She patted Mr. Roberts once more, then pushed him a bit further to the back of the drawer. The princess then took out the diadem, placing it snuggly on her head to push back her golden locks.

No braids today, as was father’s request.

At the thought of this, Zelda got to her feet.

He only said 20 minutes, right?

Let’s see… the guardian is just in the courtyard downstairs. Later, I could probably use the Champions as an excuse… they’ve been here a few hours, maybe? The ceremony is just a bit past noon… and if I use the stairs unconventionally...

Zelda’s eyes lit up for the first time all morning. Still standing by her bed, she cleared her throat and spoke swifty.

“Actually, Evelyn? Sorry, but there is one more thing.” As she spoke, she started to walk across the room towards her desk, about to begin a daring search amongst the avalanche of papers, books, fancy pens, and quills.

The woman had just about finished up packing her needles, fabric, and other tools into her small kit. She held it in one hand as she tilted her head curiously at the princess.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“If you see my father, or anyone else due to the Champion Ceremony, just pass along a reminder that I’m not coming to the rehearsal beforehand.”

“Of course.” Evelyn observed the princess continue to hopelessly tumble through the mess of papers and books on her desk. “A busy day for you, miss?”

“Of sorts...”

Finally, she found it. Feeling the familiar brush of old leather at her fingertips, Zelda pulled out one of her journals from the wreckage of notes and ink. She really needed to find a better way to organize these things. Flipping through the pages, she found that this was indeed research journal number 27, with half of the pages still blank and ripe for the writing.

She turned to the tailor once more, clutching the journal to her chest. “If my father asks anymore questions about my whereabouts, just tell him I was delivering the Champion’s gifts myself. Otherwise, you can be sure I’ll still be at the sanctum at least 20 minutes early, just as he asked!”

The tailor hesitantly started the motion of a nod in agreement, but the princess didn’t stick around to see it finish. Zelda gave Evelyn an honest smile, before rushing out the door. The woman was left there, scratching the back of her head in concern.

Pushing open the double doors, the princess started to run through the hallway. Well, it was more of a half run, half walk. A jog if you will. It was difficult enough to walk around in heels, much less sprint across the carpet floor.

Curses, I should have brought a change of boots.

Zelda continued her journey through the corridors, hastily passing by the guards who wore slightly confused expressions under their thick helms.

Even though Zelda had left her room in a rush, as soon as she saw the drifting shadows of other Hylians at the end of the hallway, she slowed her pace. Guards were one thing, but other influential people, who might not know how to hold their tongue, was another. Turning the corner, she allowed the voice of her father and other nobility from her life to amplify.

Keep your head high. Don’t slouch. Look straight ahead. Don’t adjust your hair. Don’t attend to an itch. Don’t run. Hands folded, not crossed. Stride and be dignified. Look straight ahead. Look straight ahead.

She looked at their faces, walking through the hallway, she couldn’t help but notice the sudden quieting volume as people turned to look at her. Zelda didn’t know exactly who they were. Sons, daughters, brothers, or mothers of some nobles serving her father? It didn’t matter, she could already feel the pit in her stomach telling her that they saw right through her.

This specific corridor was basked in light, with open archways allowing the sunlight to drip through, and cast soft shadows onto the opposing wall. It was a small group of people, their clothing varying from large, simple gowns to sleek, suave coats. From the looks of it, they were just chatting amongst themselves as they enjoyed the morning breeze.

At least, they had been chatting, but now those conversations were reduced to faint whispers amongst a fragile silence.

Look straight ahead. Focus. Look straight ahead. Focus. Just...move forward.

Zelda began to walk calmly through the corridor, the noblemen and women giving curt bows and curtseys before turning back to their companions. Some continued to stare at her with blank, neutral faces, their expressions giving no indication of their emotions or opinions, which only fed Zelda’s growing anxiety.

Look straight ahead. Pay no mind. Look ahead.

The princess continued to walk. Her destination was so close, but the muttering and whispers seemed to tangle and trip her thoughts, making the journey towards the end of the hall seem like an eternity. It was as if the moment Zelda passed by them, these people took it as their cue to continue their not-so-silent conversations.

“...yeah, that’s the…...too young for…...but sixteen is a long time…”

“...spends all day with those…...His Majesty doesn’t like that…...no powers….”

“...can’t even do…..her duty…..a shame...”

Zelda took a deep breath, trying to drown out the whispers. Look ahead. Focus. Look ahead. Focus.

She snuck a quick glance at a man with curly brown hair, he seemed to tower above her when she passed him by. He cocked an eyebrow, before turning back to his partner.

Ahead. Focus. Ahead. Posture. Dignified. Strong...

“...expects us to…...and respect…...what throne will she even…”

“...inherits…...downfall…...nothing…”

“..…..she doesn’t even….so spoiled…”

“...running away…...even from simple things…”

They were just words. Simple words. Little words. Forget it forget it forget it.

Zelda finally reached the end and turned the corner, practically sprinting towards the staircase once she was alone. She didn’t even care if they could hear her echoing footsteps, she just didn’t want to be close enough to hear any laughter.

The princess pushed open a wooden door, leading her to the stairwell. Hearing it close behind her, Zelda finally allowed herself to breathe. Her shaky breaths slowly returning to normal with each passing moment.

Alone at the top of a stairwell, the princess’ short breaths echoed, and over time, they finally melded into a final, deep sigh.

“And…” Zelda clasped her hands together taking in the room, “...we’re good.”

Regaining her composure, Zelda looked down through the spiral staircase. The carefully chiseled stone walls housed intricate designs, but the railing of the stairwell was thick and smooth.

It was perfect for… “being punctual.”

An unconscious smile made its way onto Zelda’s lips, as she propped herself up onto the railing. Then, clutching the excess of her dress in her fist, the princess allowed her momentum to fall to the side, as she slid down the spiral staircase.

The faintest sound of a laugh escaped her, even though she tried to hold her tongue. The last time she did this, a guard had heard her and berated the princess for doing something so reckless. Her father would later agree, bringing up the fact that doing such an act had caused dust and grime to accumulate on the “not so pleasant area” of her dress.

Holy Hylia, just say “butt,” Father.

Yet by that point, she had become too addicted to the childlike amusement and wonder that filled her. So here she was, a few years later after that incident, doing one of the few disobedient things in her life. It was thrilling in some sense, yet on the other hand… a bit pathetic. However in those precious, precious few moments, the princess didn’t really care.

A couple dozen steps later, Zelda’s feet landed in front of the door of paradise. It was her paradise, anyhow. The wooden door had a glass pane window, housing three golden triangles that cast splashes of color onto the stone floor as the sunlight drizzled through.

Quickly attempting to brush off any dust on her dress, Zelda took another breath and walked out into her world.

It was noisy, and chaotic, and bustling, and wonderful. The playful breeze seemed to be tugging her towards the scene.

She finally let her smile show.

The bright blue sky was pierced with metal and wood, the thin brown lines of scaffolding, ladders, and ropes held Guardians and other Sheikah technology in the air. There were glows of orange and blue, blurs of grey and silver, and of course the dazzle of a familiar Sheikah red eye, painted on some of the hanging banners and on the clothing of various Sheikah.

Someone must have been burning coal again, the scent of smoke whirling towards Zelda. As the princess started walking around, she looked around, admiring the progress that the workers were making.

There was a strange charge in the air, something that mixed the feelings of lightning and excitement, and the feeling wasn’t just from her. Bustling by her, men and women alike rushed passed with beaming faces, arms full of paper and ink.

No one was whispering or standing still—serenity and silence were in the realm of myth. The air echoed with the whirr of machinery, and the occasional shouts of conversation between Sheikah kneeling under Guardians and atop the tallest scaffolding. Zelda saw how nonchalantly one man lay next to a Guardian head, seemingly ignorant to the fact that it could vaporize him at any second. She would have judged him for his recklessness, before the thought came to her that she had probably done the exact same thing several times. She snorted to herself.

Suddenly, a girl with white hair bumped into the princess’ shoulder, causing her to drop her journal. The Sheikah girl and Zelda started to exchange apologies, but not before the girl hastily grabbed onto her box of screws and metal scrapes, the contents a few half-seconds away from spilling onto the grass. Luckily, her reflexes avoided such a fate, and the girl let out a sigh of relief.

“Apologies, Princess.” The Sheikah girl attempted to give a little curtsey, but was more concerned with the well being of her materials than the quality of her manners.

“It’s alright, I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have stood in the middle of the path, should I?” Zelda gestured to the other scurrying Sheikah around them, before moving off to the side.

“Well, nonetheless, Your Highness, it didn’t help on my end to have my vision be impaired.” The girl used a free hand to readjust her grip on the stack of supplies that piled up past her nose.

Zelda let out an easy smile. Picking up her journal from the ground, Zelda took this opportunity to get some info without bothering any of the other busy researchers.

“Do you happen to know where they relocated that Skywatcher Guardian? The one Robbie was working on?”

“Ah right, Dr. Robbie’s latest monstrosity... The one that collapsed last night, correct? It’s by the Southeast—no wait, Southwest Waterfall. For safety reasons, I believe.” With one free hand, she made an explosion gesture with her fingers

“Kaboom!”

Zelda shook her head with a chuckle. “It’s not gonna blow up. We haven’t even installed the propellor motors, much less the power core.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, before turning back around to continue to her destination. “Oh? Well tell that to the guards.”

“What? Did someone work on it?”

The Sheikah shrugged. “I don’t know, I was working my other job in Castle Town. All I know is that the workload for the Skywatcher thing has been greatly lifted. Supposedly someone was able to give it a new surge of power. So the typical guards have been assigned, you know, to keep the potential fires in check and all that…”

Another heave of her box of supplies, and the girl started back on her path.

“Be seeing ya, Princess!” said the Sheikah girl. As she walked, she started humming some faintly familiar tavern tune.

Zelda thought to herself, gears turning in her head, as she truly started getting into a ‘researcher’s mindset,’ as her father had called it.

What did she say? Southwest Waterfall? Well, no better place to prevent fires and explosions.

With new vigor, Princess Zelda walked deeper into the realm of ancient metal.

A blur of gold and blue made its way through the courtyards. Occasionally, a wandering Sheikah would turn and greet the princess, but for the most part, they would leave the girl to her devices, literally and figuratively, as they were used to Her Highness tinkering away at the various machinery. It wasn’t like any of them cared, so long as nothing got in the way of their own work.

In a sense, it was this very mindset that truly made Zelda feel at ease. There was no beating around a sacred bush, no dance or choreography to learn, no rules to conversation, or guidelines for the way to blink. The Sheikah here just...were. They did their jobs, worked towards their task, and would generally just act like normal people.

Of course, on occasion when Zelda stopped to ask a question, their tones would change from casual to professional. A simple question like, “Is everything running smoothly?” would get responses that typically ended with, “But of course, Your Highness,” accompanied by a deep and humble bow. However, the exhausting formalities were more an issue of Sheikah attempting not to embarrass themselves, rather than something along the lines of them sucking up, or wearing a polite mask just to whisper behind her back. It was this breath of fresh air that would make the princess forever grateful for their company.

Eventually, Zelda made her way to the Skywatcher Guardian. It was easy enough to identify, given that it was a lot more...intact than usual.

Above, a sparkling waterfall rushed against stone walls, before it crashed into a large lake, where the water stilled, shimmering quietly. Surrounding the waterfall, the courtyard's green grass melded with a brick path, atop which different types of Guardians stood. Large, rotating Sentries; clambering, scurrying Stalkers; and, most notable, a single Skywatcher, laid out on its side beside the pond.

These types were still new. Robbie supposedly only got it to fly for an hour before its power began to dwindle. Yet now, the Skywatcher was humming with life. Even laid on its side, with the propellers detached, the Guardian’s head swiveled in search of an absent enemy.

It was incredible really. Just last night, it was a heap of metal and screws. Compared to then, the Guardian was not only repaired, but its functionality was restored beyond that of which Zelda and Robbie had left it.

That’s funny...that nobleman wouldn’t stop talking my ears off about how his son got a bruise when the Guardian collapsed into bits and pieces.

She shook her head, cringing at the memory of having to apologize to someone after their kid broke one of the machines essential to the protection of Hyrule.

But, at least you’re all good now. Zelda thought to herself, moving to pat the Skywatcher’s hull with a smile. Oh, you’re a beautiful one, huh? Look at all your glowing lights and chiseled design! And is that a new lens I see? Oooo and your propellers here are all polished! Wouldn’t want grime and gunk in the gears, would you? No, no you wouldn’t... You sure are a fancy little guy aren’t y—

“...Your Highness?”

Zelda jumped, her mind snapping back to reality. Whipping around, she turned to face a Hylian guard, her helm tucked under one arm. She was stoically holding a spear, but the look on her face was of thinly veiled confusion.

The princess cleared her throat, slightly sheepish. “Yes? What is it?”

The guard shifted her weight, her blonde braid falling to the side. “Well…I’ve been ordered to keep unauthorized people from touching the Guardians. We haven’t had an explosion yet, here in the Activation Zone, and I’m sure we would all like to keep it that way—”

The princess quickly held up a hand, irritation starting to form in place of the embarrassment she felt moments ago. “Wait, are you saying I’m an unauthorized person?”

“Your father said....especially and specifically for today…”

Ah. Right… Of course he would say that.

Zelda finally sighed, compliant. “Alright, I understand. Thank you. But could you tell me why exactly this one was moved here to Activation?” She took out her journal, beginning to jot down observations and notes on the Skywatcher. “Just last night, I had people complain to me for hours about its collapse, and now all of the sudden it's already being actively tested? What happened to the ‘only authorized people’ rule?”

The guard suddenly looked away, not that Zelda noticed. “Uhhh...it was worked on sometime last night and super early morning.” She played with her blonde braid, brushing it against her metal gauntlet. “That Dr. Kimura? Sh—HE was one of the head scientist guys, so it was under jurisdiction.”

Zelda nodded her head in understanding, still jotting away at the paper. Then, the princess suddenly closed her journal with a snap, clutching it to her chest. She moved a bit closer to the Guardian, angling herself to be just in front of the opening at its top, where all the mechanism and components lie.

Then, she bent her legs and started jumping up and down.

The guard’s face was full of concern and confusion. “Um...Princess…?”

“I’m not touching it! I’m just—” her eyes started to widened, as she got a better peak inside, “Ooo, that’s a new feature, what kind of properties does—” But the guard couldn’t quite hear the rest of her sentence, given that it was continuously cut off with each hop she took.

Zelda finally finished jumping, although it was from her curiosity being satisfied, and not from the guard’s efforts to stop her. The princess started again to write down notes in her journal.

“A giant ancient core! I didn’t know we had unearthed more of those. It does transfer the needed energy to the propellers faster than a standard core.” She continued hurriedly scratching away at the pages of her journal. “Smart! I honestly should have thought of it sooner. I’ll have to thank Robbie later.”

“Right…”

For the better part of an hour, Zelda continued to sit by the lake and continue her research. As irritating as it was to not be allowed to touch things, Zelda was content with the opportunity to focus on writing down her theories and thoughts. Personally, she’d have preferred some music, but, well...he wasn’t here right now. Probably off trying to keep Robbie and Purah from wreaking too much havoc.

Music aside, the princess was still much at comfort, here beside the looming Skywatcher. The rushing of the waterfall, the ambience of distant conversation, and the patter of Sheikah metal, it all culminated in a setting that made her feel right at home. Despite the entirety of the castle technically being hers, the feeling was actually something that couldn’t come often enough…

But, like seemingly every enjoyable thing in her life, it ended far too soon.

Behind her, the guard suddenly moved closer to lean down. “Your Highness.”

“Mmm?” Zelda didn’t bother to look up at her, still flipping through her pages.

“You...have a guest.”

Zelda scoffed to herself, already forming a prediction of who it might be as she got on her feet.

Father said twenty minutes early. The ceremony doesn’t start for another 38, I’m fine. If I could just show him my progress here so far, then he’ll have to—

As the princess turned to face the person in question, the words she was about to let out of her mouth suddenly caught in her throat.

Oh.

He wasn’t actually looking at her at that moment. His eyes were distant, caught up with the view of the Sanctum at the apex of the castle. His blue eyes were bright and cold, while his stupidly perfect blond hair flowed with the New Year's wind. Winter hadn’t hadn’t yet fully surrendered to the Spring, but the air was still crisp enough to warrant her to wear the long sleeve dress. Yet, the boy stood with nothing but his leather boots, pants, and a beige and grey tunic. The fact that he never shivered was just another infuriatingly perfect thing about him.

That, and the fact that he seemed to take every waking moment to show off that sword, an imposing reminder that he was better than her in every way.

Zelda cleared her throat, getting his attention. “What can I do for you, knight?” She said the last word with a tone equal to that of how one might talk to the squished remains of a spider.

The boy turned to face her, the tips of his ears slightly pink. He put up his hands in front of his chest, the sword on his back shifting with the movement. The boy gave a look towards the princess, as if asking for permission.

Ah, right. No words…

The princess couldn’t quite understand it. Five years ago, when a twelve year old Link had first found the sword, he spoke with ease. No oath of silence had stopped him from chatting it up with her and her father. He was awfully loud, especially when exclaiming to his father, Captain Leon of the royal guard, his excitement about the “cool sword” he found. In those days, Link would pester her, about the epic battle they were fated to, about the legends and Beasts and prophecy. And it was his excitement and determination that had earned her the reputation.

The lazy one. The distracted one. The powerless one, doomed to a throne of nothing. The perfect knight, and the failing heir. The gleeful boy and the silent princess.

Well, at least she wasn’t the silent one anymore.

So now those five years had passed, they had barely spoken since those days. Of course, that boy, the wielder of the Sword That Seals The Darkness, of course he would find a way to ruin her day even without opening his mouth. Finally, Zelda let out a huff, acknowledging Link.

“Hylian Sign… yes, well. I’m a bit rusty, but so long as you don’t start telling me your entire life story I should be fine. Go on.”

He nodded, his expression painfully neutral. The knight began to move his hands, bending his fingers in different motions.

‘Your father asked me to look after you, before the ceremony began. Then I could escort you there. Practice for next week when I actually…’ he paused, thinking of his next gesture, ‘when I actually start accompanying you.”’

The princess couldn’t hide her scoff. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way to the Sanctum, thank you very much.” She crossed her arms. “You can head there on your own, and tell the king that I’m fine. Frankly, I’m trying to enjoy my last few days of personal space.”

Zelda started the motion of spinning around and sitting back on the ground, but out of the corner of her eye she caught Link moving his hands once again.

‘I can wait here, until you’re finished, if you wish.’

She sighed, shaking her head. The princess gave a sort of halfhearted nod, as if to say “Fine, do whatever you want.” Although her distaste for the situation was made clear, given she sat back on the ground in a loud and stern demeanour.

Zelda started flipping through her journal again, trying to find where she left off. Yet, she hadn’t been writing for a full minute before she could feel it. She could feel him looking at her.

The guard was one thing, she was doing her job, and if they had something to say they would speak their mind at the princess’ command. Link, on the other hand, his stare was different. It was more similar to something like the stare she had felt in the corridor that day, although ten times worse given his eyes were guaranteed to be stoic and neutral.

Zelda wouldn’t stare him back, instead, she looked at the reflection of the lake. The water rippled slightly, the waterfall crashing in the distance. She could see the reflection of Link standing tall, and looking in the direction she was sitting. In the water, she could see his eyes. His gaze didn’t see her in the water, but the look was enough to get Zelda’s mind turning.

He thinks I’m pathetic.

Granted, he wouldn’t be the first.

Link had taken off his sword, propping it on the ground, sheath and all, as a sort of armrest. He set his elbows on the handle and continued to wait and watch. It was like some parent watching their toddler, making sure they didn’t hurt themselves. He probably thinks I’m a brat, how rich...

Although, Zelda was slightly hesitant at this theory, given that the way he was looking at her direction was so… soft. More warm than his typically glassy gaze.

Ah...

Pity.

Zelda laughed to herself. He pities the poor princess, the stupid girl who can’t figure out her destiny. The pathetic heir wasting her time with Guardians.

It all came so easy for him, it took him no time at all. What am I to him, some strange anomaly? An injured calf in the field? His destiny is held back by my struggles, and now he pities me for it. I’d like to see how he would act if he felt as useless as I.

Zelda continued to furiously scribble in her journal, but her thoughts continued to flow, one after another.

He doesn’t just pity me.

He hates me.

But on the bright side, the feelings he has for me are mutual.

Barely a minute passed, before the anxiety in Zelda’s head grew too much to bear. Was this really going to happen everyday now?

Finally, she let out a groan. In one swift motion she got to her feet, snapped her journal shut, and started marching towards the nearest entrance. Passing Link, she mumbled under her breath something slightly graphic concerning Guardians, skewers, and eyes.

Her mutters continued as she trudged towards the castle interior. She was about halfway there when she realized the only footsteps she heard were her own. Zelda turned around, finding that Link was still where he was moments ago, standing timidly, his stance hesitant to move.

“Well, are you coming?”

Link scratched the back of his head, then blinked. He picked up his sword, slung it back around him, and started to jog towards her. He was like a puppy, bounding up to their owner, only the analogy truly merged with reality given that Link seemed to be the type to only move when following orders. Spirits above, this was gonna be annoying. Zelda let out another sigh.

The two of them made their way back inside the castle. Weaving through the hallways, Zelda led the two of them up closer and closer to their destination. However, Link seemed to prefer walking five steps behind her. She tried to busy her hands, smoothing out her hair and her dress, but she couldn’t shake the swarm of thoughts in her head every time she saw the edge of Link’s shadow behind her.

Suddenly, Zelda stopped in the middle of the hall, speaking bluntly.

“If you’re really trying to live up to the knightly protection schtick, at the very least walk next to me so I don’t feel as creeped out.”

The knight blinked, then gave a nod. Once again, no reaction whatsoever. He awkwardly shuffled beside her, still with some distance between then, so that they stood at opposite ends of the width of the hall.

Zelda slumped her shoulders, but was ultimately satisfied with the situation. She continued down the hallways.

Minutes passed, then moments, then eternities. The end of each corridor couldn’t come fast enough. Although she had purposely chosen the route that ran into as little people as possible, there was a weird charge in the air given the dense silence between them.

Occasionally, she would mention something out of politeness, the typical dance of conversation. “How was your day?” and “The weather’s been weird,” and all that garbage. It didn’t help that he wasn’t much for conversation. The most he contributed to the conversation was asking why they were taking this route, as it wasn’t the quickest way to the Sanctum. Zelda gave him a blunt answer, as if to give him his own medicine, “I have an errand beforehand.”

More minutes passed, then moments, then centuries. Zelda continued to fidget with the edge of her sleeve, while Link continued his perfect silence.

The princess snuck a glance in his direction. He walked with purpose, matching her speed, but not daring to lead the way. He was watching the cycle of his steps on the floor. His face… his eyes.... It wasn't boredom. It wasn’t tiredness. He was just, blank.

She could still remember that young boy, excitedly asking her about the powers of Hylia, and glowing swords. Had he really grown out of that so quickly? Had he already managed to push down his childish ways for the sake of his duty?

Next to him, Zelda was an utter failure.

“Let me ask you something, hero. What are they going to remember you by?”

The words escaped her before she could register the noise, and the sudden sound made the boy’s posture stiffen in an instant. Link tilted his head askew in a quizzical nature.

“Me, I’ve worked my entire life to try to be something worthwhile. Today alone, I’ve worked to make my research impactful and worthwhile. I’ve had my speech for the Champion’s ceremony handcrafted to portray a desired image. My father had my dress tailor-made to something he approved of, and I work every damn day to live up to the role as the wielder of the Sealing power.”

She let out a sad sigh. “Even if it isn’t exactly the positive legacy I wanted, there is still something that people know me for.

“The solemn heir. The tired princess. Don’t you agree?”

Zelda looked at his face, trying to see some sort of reaction in his eyes.

Nothing.

She pushed further.

“Would you like another example? Well, everyone knows this tale. A young knight wanders into the woods, woods that sap your spirit and carry corpses into creeks. But instead of a fate of death, the boy found his fate in a sword, ‘for his heart was too pure to yield to the forces of evil.’ Sound about right?”

He didn’t react. The rate in which they walked slowed just barely.

“But that is just the start. The fairytale, if you will. Now, the knight becomes a truly talented and masterful swordsman. The image he gives off is of perfection and grace.” She waved her hand in an exaggerated manner. “Supposedly, that would be the end of it. That’s all we need to know.”

Then, Zelda stopped in the corridor, looking out one of the stained glass windows.

“Yet once—” she chuckled, although the laugh didn’t meet her eyes, “Once upon a time, I met a boy. He liked swords and chocolate, horses and fruit. He liked the woods, and talking, and dogs, and stories. I know because one day he and I talked, just the two of us. It was nice, but he told me something strange.”

She turned to face Link directly. “He told me he was confused. He told me he didn’t understand some of the new changes in his life. He told me he was...something along the lines of nervous.

“I told him I felt the same, for you see, the person in my life who was supposed to guide me, they were gone. This boy and I, we were in the same boat, which didn’t often happen in my life.”

She stepped closer to him, her shadows growing along the opposite wall. “I told him that if I ever found out how to stop being confused, how to figure out everything, I would tell him. And he told me the same.

“But then that boy vanished, and instead I met a knight. The perfect, dashing knight from the fairy tales…”

Zelda was less than a foot away from him now, looking at his eyes.

“...and I never spoke to that boy again. Although in a sense, I’m glad. I never found the answer he was looking for.” As she said this, she looked away, breaking her gaze.

The princess looked out the window again, while the hero continued to stare at her, unmoving. After a moment, she spoke again.

“So I ask, how should I remember you then? Who are you going to be, the knight, or the boy? I’d like to at least know that before you once again start shoving your way into my life.”

A pause, a tension in the air that could form storms, but for now it was as still as the surface of a pond. Both of them waited for an answer to appear. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

Finally, he raised his arms, meeting her eyes with a strange new light.

‘I plan to be whatever is needed of me.’

Another silence, but more fragile than the last. Finally, the thoughts in her head crashed together like the end of a waterfall. Zelda let out a deep sigh, before storming off down the rest of the hallway.

Perfect answer from the perfect hero. What else did I expect?

Still storming off, Zelda’s thoughts fluttered through her head. No, not just thoughts. Words. They echoed and bounced around in her head. Her words, her father’s, Link’s...words? Expressions? What do you even call them—

In her haste, Zelda nearly bumped into a large, basil green Zora. He looked down at her, puzzled, while she mumbled out apologies.

Moving past him, Zelda took in the room around her.

They had reached the main hall.

It was draped with velvet and gold, along with bright blue banners, and stained glass ceilings. More decorated that usual given today’s events. Unlike in times past, different races other than Hylians bustled across the floor. Sheikah, Rito, Zora, Gorons, Gerudo, they moved with purpose, and intent. They all knew where they were going, and where everyone else was going, up, up to the Sanctum.

Behind her, Link finally caught up. Zelda slumped her shoulders, but was ultimately glad she wouldn’t have to chase him down later. She eyed one of the ornate doors beside one of the windows, before gesturing to Link with a hand. “Well, come on then. Let’s go meet the others.”

The Sanctum is just upstairs, I’ve got 30 minutes, so 10 minutes to talk with the rest of the Champions. We’re good, we’re good...I don’t need to pay the people here any mind...

The figure of Link out of the corner of her eye pierced through her thoughts. Seeing the raised eyebrow on Link’s face as they walked, Zelda spoke in a lowly tone.

“Whatever your stance on knights and stories are, the rest of the world prefers the fairytales. They want links between the storybooks and reality, some symbol of perfection to ease their minds, to tell them that it won’t all end in failure. So come.”

Zelda paused, turning to face him directly. She looked up and down at Link’s outfit, a typical beige and grey knight’s tunic, with dark pants and boots. Then, she continued towards her destination with new vigor.

“There is something I need to give you all.”

#reblogs appreciated!#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #where time takes us #botw fanfiction #link #link botw #zelda #zelda botw #zelink

27 notes · View notes

shaydeoffical · 4 years

Text

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Ten

Chapter Summary: Shouta is away fro business, and Shinso and (Y/n) are left alone for the day. In a brilliant idea, (Y/n) convinces Shinso to train to be able to pin him down. Things turn stressful when she gets another cryptic text...and...is that a picture of Shinso on her phone? No way.

Series Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: Please enjoy this, also long update lol. We are getting to the good stuff we have been waiting for, in this slow burn.

Warnings: fihgting, blood, kidnnaping, violence

Last Chapter: Nine

Next Chapter: Eleven

The Connect

“HELP!!!” Hizashi screamed, shaking the house down with his quirk. I jumped from the bed, landing on my knees. While crossing the hall, I paused. Instead of running straight into the disaster zone, Hizashi's room, I began pounding on the purple-haired pro hero’s door. While it was hard to hear over the seismic waves cracking the foundation, I knew he couldn't just be asleep. Wiggling the handle, Shinso still didn’t answer but instead emerged from the bathroom in a towel.

“I think it’s a bug.” I had my ears covered, use to this morning routine. Shinso had been staying over more recently since he started a cover job at a daycare to move in on his target. Though I didn't expect to see him in nothing but a towel. What heathen doesn't have a bathrobe when they stay over as much as he does.

“Hold tight.” He covered his own ears, grabbing a newspaper and marching into Hizashi’s room. The screaming stopped, and I sighed in relief. Lowering my hands, there was a ringing in my ear, but I could still hear Shinso trying to pry Hizashi off his body.

Taking a step, I felt my chest move. My eyes widened, and I ran back to my room to sling a bra on. While I was there, I fixed my hair into a ponytail and put slippers on. Of course, I trusted Shinso, but I wasn't that comfy to walk around like that. It was foolish to worry about my looks, but my mother was always so pushy about being decent.

Finally cleaned up, I shuffled into the hall, and Hizashi was still holding Shinso in thanks.

“You’re so brave,” Hizashi clung to the purple-haired man’s leg, in his full hero suit. Hair slicked to the sky and a mic on his throat. It was a rare treat to see him all decked out.

“If you stopped deafening all the bugs in this house, maybe they’d run off so you wouldn’t get trapped.” I rested my hand on my hip and leaned down. Shinso laughed, tiring to cover it with a cough. “You teaching today, Hizashi?”

“Yea, I’m running late, actually.” Hizashi looked at his watch, then popped up from the floor. “You two are in charge today. Remember, Shota is in Housu for work, so it’s up to you two not to get into any trouble.”

“Of course. Did you pack a lunch?” I dashed to the kitchen, both men following after me. Glancing at the clock, he could spare a few minutes for a meal.

“No, I’ll figure-“

“Oh, I can whip something up fast.” I cheered, wanting to return the favor. He was an excellent cook and mother hen. “You cook for me so often, it’s the least I can do.”

“I’ll be fine, (Y/n), I really got to go.” He moved to grab his voice amp tool kit, and I got to work tossing ingredients together.

“No, I insist, a sandwich and a bag of chips never took too long. I’m al-“ I shoved mayo and siracha in a bowl with some corn.

“He doesn’t want your cooking Kitten,” Shinso mumbled, sipping from an Eraser coffee. cup

“That’s so mean,” I nearly stopped working, but I kept tossing things together, adding mayo and ketchup. "You won't deter me, Lint Ball. We don't have room for jealousy in this house."

“Honey, I got to-“ I shoved the paper bag in Hizashi’s hand, fixing the zipper on his suit.

“If it sucks, give it to the strays.” I scratched the back of my neck and gave him a quick kiss on the check. “Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you." Hizashi pecked a kiss on my forehead. He opened the door then pointed from his eyes to Shinso’s. "Shinso, watch her for me.” Hizashi darted to his car, not bothering to tie his boots up.

I turned to Shinso, who was now in a Deku shirt and some cotton shorts. “What did you mean no one wants my food?” I raised my brow and got into one of the sparing positions we had practiced last week.

“It’s not mean, it’s just the truth.” Shinso walked right past me into the kitchen. “What? You’re not going to fight me.” He raised his brow, that damned smirk setting me off.

“I- I’m going to my room.” I stomped my feet, making a show of my distaste. While I wanted to throw him to the ground, it was way too early in the morning. It definitely has nothing to do with how close we got yesterday while training.

Once locked away, I opened my window, and sure enough, Hisoka was resting in the flower bed. Tapping my fingers against the spot where his breath has tickled me, I froze. I had accepted Shinso wasn’t a full-on ass, but moments like this were where I wanted to wring his neck. I knew I was a terrible cook, but I was getting better, I had been practicing while home alone. There's no need to tell me what I know to be true. Everyone want's to be the best cook for their partner and friends. With a little more time, I'd be a prized host like Hizashi.

“Damn Lint Ball,” I huffed, raking my fingers through Hisoka’s fur. He couldn’t meow like he used too but had made an almost full recovery. That was the one thing I told mom about when I called last night. She didn’t want to talk for long, but she loved hearing about Hisoka, and my training with Sho.

Hisoka ran off after a few more pets, bounding into the trees. The little rascal. If you could ignore the bald spots on his body, you'd never know he was so close to death.

Closing my window, I curled back in bed, my tummy growling. Shinso would be done eating soon, and then I could make my own meal. If he wanted to be cruel, he could do it without my company.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry.” Shinso rasped on my door. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

"Go away," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"I could have said it better; I know." He added. I could hear him rest against the door, the lock buckling.

“It shouldn’t have come out at all,” I countered, sitting up and hugging my lemongrass and lavender pillow. The scent had mostly faded, but I still slept better with it.

“I apologize. What can I do to make it up to you?” I opened the door and caught him off guard.

“You can train me to pin you,” I kept a straight face as he just nodded. His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering on the pillow still tucked under my arm.

“That’s a deal, Kitten.” He shook my hand, then held the back of his neck. “I went ahead and made breakfast for us. Will you please, join me?”

“Of course,” I beamed, shimming around him. That might have been the first time he apologized for a dick move. So it was time to reward good behavior. Plus, after yesterday, I wanted things to work out. I hadn't been able to let loose since before high school. Being silly and extra reminded what being young was supposed to be like. Not hiding away your quirk or worrying about what bystanders think. Just the pursuit of safe and healthy fun.

He had prepared fresh rice, a few pieces of salmon, and a fruit trey. Hell, the strawberries were cut into little hearts. “Did you make this to show off you’re better than me?” I accused him, sitting in the middle like I was used too.

“I just wanted to do something nice. I’m not always trying to tease you.” He fetched us each a glass of water. While he did that, I dished out my plate, trying to act like I wasn't so impressed with the spread. He had cooked for us as a family before, but this was the first time we didn’t eat separately when it was just the two of us.

“Thank you then,” I kept my superior nature, and took a small bite. The texture was perfect, and the flavor was well rounded. Of course, it was nothing like an iron chef, but he did have skill in the kitchen. “Yes, this is quite adequate.”

He choked on his bite and chugged his water. “Just adequate?”

“It’s delicious Hitoshi, I’m just jerking your chain.” We both giggled, but I froze up.

Chains’. Rattling. Bruised wrists. Swollen ankles. Hitoshi- He was holding my hand across the table. Callused fingers smoothing over my skin, his grip tight. He was strong. Hitoshi was a hero. I was safe with him.

“Sorry, I just-“ I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping his hand tighter. "Yea, it's a great meal." Dipping my head, I focused on the music notes on the table cloth.

“Don’t apologize.” When he removed his hand, I noticed I had made an amethyst. The purple stone had rolled from my palm, resting on the center of the table. He didn’t make a move to touch it, instead, acting as if he didn't see it.

Horrified, I grasped the gem and squished it in my hand, running the dust to the trash can. “It’s like a laying a golden egg. You never know what to expect from the goose. That doesn’t make sense. Whatever, I just- I totally intended…on not making that.” I acknowledged it, breaking the silence.

“Is that where all that dust in your room comes from?” Shinso went back to eating like nothing odd had transpired. However, his tone was softer, not quite pity, but enough that I could notice he was feeling out the tension.

“Hitoshi, my room is not dusty,” I crossed my arms, plopping back down. There was no reason for staying upset, it was over now. The food was getting cold.

“No. The jars of sand or dust,” he clarified, handing me another piece of fish.

“Oh, I make a few gems every morning to stay on my game, then I crush them. It feels wrong to just toss them out all the time. No one was supposed to know about that, but I trust you, Lint Ball.” I took a large bite, “now tell me why you were in my room?”

“No reason.” He calmed up, sipping his water.

“Liar,” I slammed my water back and quickly finished my meal. “Didn't think I'd be so preceptive? Alright, I’ll let it go for now. But you have to tell me once I pin you down.”

“Why do you want to pin me so badly?” The impish grin on his face was almost cute. He was about to have a world of hurt.

“I wanna show you how humiliating it is to be pinned every other breath. I intend to use this knowledge to my full benefit. So prepare for ambushes.” I took my dish to the sink, putting away the leftovers.

“If you tell me about an ambush, it’s no longer an ambush.” He grinned, finishing off his meal. “Alright, let’s get started.” He put his plates in the sink and knocked his hip into mine. Scouting over, he took over dished. "Go get changed."

“I’m actually excited about this,” I scurried to my room. I pulled on some capris and an oversized pink tee. It was chilly outside, so I put a long sleeve shirt under it.

Shinso changed into a black long sleeve shirt and some cargo pants. Somehow he managed to finish the dishes and still changed faster than me. He was waiting by the door, his shoes on already, and he had my shoes pulled out and ready.

Once outside, we squared up in the garden. Before that, I stopped to watch Hisoka bath in the sun, rolling in the grass and pawing at the leaves around him. Shinso took a pic on his phone and then sat it to the side so we could get started.

“First things first, always be aware of how your body is lined up with mine.” He paused, examining my stance. “Spread your legs a little wider, and put your left leg forward.” He walked around me, resting his hand on my stomach. “Feel the tension in your stomach; you want to use that energy. When you come at me, grab my waist and wrap your legs behind my knees, using your body to take me down.”

“Um okay,” I nodded, trying to think about how that would work. His hand was so warm on my stomach, the energy doubling there. I wondered about how, with one touch, I could feel more powerful. Shinso was back in position across from me. Bouncing on my heels, I waited for him to strike at me. When he didn't move, I grabbed his waist and just slammed him to the ground. Sitting on his chest, I hovered around his chest.

“That’s not quite right, but we can work on it.” Shinso tapped my leg. “Bring this up onto my stomach, and bring your other leg out for balance.”

“Won’t that hurt?” I asked, adjusting myself to barely apply pressure to him.

“You want to pin me, right?” he reminded me. “Now, grab both sides of my shirt while crossing your arms.” He was entirely under me now, and when I applied pressure on his shirt, it choked him.

“Hitoshi, that’s scary.” I let him go and leaned back, trying to find a place to put my hands that wasn't his torso. “Despite popular belief, I don’t want to strangle you.”

“You need to practice, now you’ve left yourself venerable.” He smirked, gripping my knee, pinning me with a quick flip.

“Snap.” I gasped, his pelvis was right on mine, my knees in the air on either side of him, his arms around my throat applying zero pressure. "Toshi." I pouted, trying to squirm free.

“Let's try again.” He grinned, giving me instructions on how to get out of my predicament.

When that done, we moved on. This time Shinso had me sit behind him, and get my legs under his, and put a seatbelt around his chest. It was so toned and tight. Of course, I had fought off every urge to ogle him this morning, but the mystery was killing me.

“Try applying pressure to my throat.” I did for a few seconds till he made a small noise of discomfort. “Good. Here’s the counter.”

He pulled my thumb, and I let loose. The leaves helped him slide away from me, then got behind me, locking his arms and legs around mine, balancing me while on his back.

“Holy crap,” I laughed, unable to fight against the hold. Then my calf contorted in pain. “Cramp cramp cramp cramp.” He let go, and I jumped up, walking it out. “Shit. Fuck fuck, fuck.” I cursed, limping around in a circle.

“Hold still,” he stopped me, and bent down to my calf and started to rub the muscle.

“That hurts,” I collapsed down, his motions stopping long enough for me to stretch out. Rubbing my temple, I twisted my ankle, trying to ease the charlie horse.

“It’s going to feel better in a few minutes, Kitten.” Hitoshi purred, working his fingers deep into my tissue. “Are you drinking plenty of water.”

“Probably not. Besides, the USJ was a rough work out.” I wheezed through the throbs of pain. “Hey, it's easing up a bit.”

“You should listen to me more often.” He hummed, kneading his hands up my thigh, caressing the entire area. His rough fingers were magic tools, ebbing the pain away. My head lulled back, resting it under my arm. Even when the cramp released, I kept quiet. I loved being doted on, and this was so nice.

I nearly swooned when he started to work on my other leg, but I didn’t say anything. It was healthy, two young people sitting in the leaves sharing a massage… yea, this was fine. Friends did this. Shinso probably knew my other leg was on the verge of cramping, and it was okay. He owed me a few acts of servitude or some shit. I just want the ball of energy in my stomach to relax. This was so nice and normal...

My phone buzzed by my water bottle, and I grasped it, turning on the screen. Thankfully we laned by our stuff, but it wasn't a good message. It was another cryptic picture, a knife resting in an apple, and the letter o. Then another image came, and I froze.

It was a purple blob... Shinso’s hair. Another picture, it was my thigh, a hand resting on my knee. Next came a pic of me looking at my phone. “Hitoshi…” I handed him my phone, sitting up and scooting closer. I held onto his shirt, trying not to shiver. “What, what do we do?” I whispered, clutching his arm.

“We go inside.” He stood, both us raising at the same time, his arm locked around my waist. He looked around, keeping me tight to him. We were out in the open and there was no safe side.“When I say run, do it.”

“Where?” I asked, gripping even harder. My legs felt better, but I was still shaking.

“Go to the bathroom and lock yourself in. Call Aizawa.” He kept glancing around, then he stopped, narrowing in on the trees by the pond “Now.”

“Now?” We were just fifty feet from the door, but I couldn’t let go.

“Yes.” Hitoshi nudged me forward. I froze, looking at him for guidance. "I'll be okay." He assured me. With a deep breath, I sprinted towards the door. All hell broke loose. A few masked people jumped out, and Hitoshi didn't have his scarf. He was in trouble. There were even people near the house.

I made inside before the creeps could move to block the door. I locked the bolt before anyone could grasp it, and I could feel the handle jiggle. The plan was out the door, and I grabbed Hitoshi’s scarf, peeking outside the window.

A man popped up and busted through the glass. Switching gears I went to the front door again. Busting it open, the man met me at the threshold, and I slammed hot coal into his face before he registered what happened. Stomping his foot, I broke free running to Shinso.

“Hitoshi!” His eyes bugged out of his head, I tossed the scarf. He caught it, quickly gaining the upper hand. Relief washed over me, but it was too soon.

“Got her!” The man I burned, wrapped his arms around me. I stomped his foot again and held coal to his crotch till he dropped.

Stumbling forward, I ran towards the forest like in practice. “Kitten, wait-“ A basket wove around me and tightened like a Chinese finger trap. I rolled a few times and started to burn my way through fast as possible.

A man in a black trench coat hovered over me. “Are you sure this is the right girl? She’s making coals.”

“That’s her boss,” more goons had appeared, and Shinso was swamped with seven different opponents. “The boss said she’s had two quirks, and not to be fooled.”

“Your Tusuki’s daughter, right child?” The man knew my father’s name, and I knew they meant business. I could hear Shinso struggling behind me, and I just closed my eyes.

“Please leave him alone. I’ll go with you- “ I was kicked in the stomach. Spitting up, I lost my breath.

“I said, are you his daughter?” The man wove a trap around my throat, and it got tighter and tighter as I fought it.

“I-“ What was I supposed to say. I could deny it and be killed outright or be hurt worse. Shinso hadn’t used my name aloud. There was room to- the trap cut off my air, and I shrank in agony. Black spots tugging at my vision. “Yes.” The binding loosened, but it wasn’t enough to breath easy,

“Wrap her up.” The 'boss' of this group walked away, two goons grabbing my cocoon. They referred to another boss, but this was my problem at the moment.

“Stop it.” I kept burning the basket with my coals, but the wooden strips kept reforming and wrapping around my hands. “Hitoshi. Hitoshi run!” I begged. The neck wrap closed up, and I gagged on my own saliva. Hitoshi had all but one man down. Damn it. He was so close… he had a chance to run.

“Daddy, I didn’t mean for them to take me.” I cried into his chest, both of us chained to the wall. They had taken him from the hospital the week before, and now they had me.

“It’s okay, baby. What do they know?” He nuzzled my neck, his entire body bruised, deflated, and cut from producing so many gems. Even holding me was straining his body.

“They know, most of it.” I cried. “They said’ they’d kill my friend.”

“Sometimes, you have to give in to the captors…I wish I had taught you more, sweetie.” He cried small lapis tears.

“Daddy, I was trained as a hero, and yet I didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know what to do. Should I have fought them?”

“No. We just need to survive long enough to go home.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll get home.”

Daddy. He died in that cell, right next to me. Because he didn’t have the strength to survive…I need to keep fighting. I can’t make this easy. Even if I’m passing out, I can still bite. Chomping down on a goons wrist, he screamed, dropping me. The other man lost his grip, and once I was down, I started to roll.

“Get her.” The boss yelled, but I keep going, with no end in sight. There were no breaks or control, just pure momentum. It was then I noticed the small ledge a few ahead. The binding was getting tight, but I could still shift, but I couldn't stop myself from being air born. If I survived the fall, I'd be lucky to keep my head from busting on a rock.

“Kitten,” the velvet voice of a hero. A tight scarf wrapping around my ankles. The whirling bouncing motion stopped. Jerked back, I slide a small way forward again, finally still. While I got my bearings, Hitoshi had knocked out both goons. He kneeled beside me, pulling at the brace on my throat—his finger wedging between the tight wood and my skin—desperately clawing at the fibers.

“Not so fast. In less you want to watch her be decapitated, you’ll listen.” The boss had the weave move up and over my lips and nose. Then he had a wrap slither around Hitoshi.

“Alright, just tell me what you want with her?” Shinso relaxed, stepping back from me. Toshi's binds were still growing around him, but he’d be immobile. He gave me a reassuring nod, and I tried to hid how much I was smothering.

“Nice try, you think-“ The boss dazed over.

“Release your quirk.” Hitoshi spat, and the boss did as told. Hitoshi’s bind was first released, then the one of my throat and finally my body.

“Thank God.” I gasped, undoing the scarf at my feet, rubbing my throat, taking deep breaths. Assessing myself, I kicked the wood away and rubbed my eyes. A twig snapped in the brush. Booking my ass next to Hitoshi, I got to my feet and hid behind him. I peered at the boss over his shoulder; he was glazed over and just standing still. His finger would twitch every now and then, but this was the power of Shinso's quirk.

“Tell me who sent you.” Hitoshi examined my neck, running his fingers up and down my throat. Keeping his quirk activated and interrogating the man was easy as breathing to him. How he was able to think about my injuries and stay in control was so cool.

“We were contracted. I don’t know their name.” The man answered.

“Who all knows of this location?” Hitoshi pushed my disheveled hair out of my face and wiped the dirt from my forehead. My skin had swollen around where the band had been, so he was gentle when cleaning that area.

“Only my group.” The man’s hand twitched with more force. I gripped Hitoshi’s shirt, and he nodded it was okay.

“Why didn’t you tell your employer. What was your goal?” Hitoshi grabbed his scarf and began to tie the man. I missed his warmth, the soothing smell that so familiar and yet far away.

“I realized the target was the daughter of one of my past projects. Tsuki (L/N), he was able to make precious gemstones. The cilent said she could make diamonds. She was worth more than the money from the job.”

“I see. How many men did you bring with you?” Hitoshi finished his knot and pushed his hair back.

“Nine.”

“Hitoshi.” I jumped in front of him, a smoke bomb bursting on my chest. I curled around it, trying to mask the fog and keep Hitoshi’s vision clear. The heat building under me was unbearable, but it wasn't hurting me. My body was used to hot coals, I just need to focus on something else till this bomb simmer down. Changing gears thought about how my toes were sore and coming to life after being upside down. The sweat pouring down my neck. How hard it was to breathe in the fruity mist.

“Show yourself,” Shinso commanded, standing over top of my body. Another smoke bomb was launched. I created a coal tossing it, displacing the bomb in the air, sending it back into the forest. “Nice aim, Kitten.”

“Only the best,” I wheezed the burning under me finally over. “Nine o’clock.”

“You mean three,” a man emerged, he was dressed much more… well covered less than his comrades. Smoke was emitting from his body. “So you can brainwash your opponent’s once they answer a question. And you can make pretty little diamonds, and now I see coals. Wow, what a perfect little swan, just waiting to be scooped up by a stern master.”

“What’s your name?” Shinso asked but was met with radio silence. “You clearly know a bit about our power, care to share what yours is?” Shinso spread his legs, and I crawled from under him. There was a small burst of fog, but nothing too thick.

“All you villains thinking I’m just a sitting duck.” I wiped the blood from my lip. “But we already took down your boss and your friends. What makes you so special.” I crouched on one knee, one hand to the earth. Focusing.

“What makes you think he was the ring leader.” The nearly nude man’s butt jiggled as he saluted me. He went on and on about his history as a villain, and I pushed a string of ruby under the earth. There was no reason it would or wouldn’t work, but I had this numb feeling in my hand that said it just might.

“Are you going to on all day?” Hitoshi’s scarf was tied up at the moment, and he vulnerable. We both were.

There. I found where his foot was, and I shot the gem up in a corkscrew, pushing it around and through his calf. “What the hell,” the man screamed, his hand tossing bombs at us. I stopped my gem trap halfway up. Yet I failed to deflect the smoke that fell over us.

The air quality dropped. “Hitoshi?” I couldn’t see him. “Hitoshi.” I leaned down and breathed through my shirt. There was a shattering snap. Then a shadow looming through the fog. The man reared his foot back and kicked my stomach. Still, I could see his other leg was bleeding and noticeably stiff.

An emerald rod shot from my wrist, and I caught it. I used the weighted log and smacked it across the man’s face. He stumbled back but pushed more smoke in the area. My vision clouded I was filtering the air with my shirt again, just trying to get my bearings.

“Kitten?” Hitoshi was coughing in the distance. How'd he get so far away?

“Here- shit,” I dodged a kick and rolled deeper into the fog.

“Where are you kids?” Hizashi was home. "BABIES?" Hizashi knew not to use out names, but it was already too late for that.

“Over here,” I hollered, attracting the villain to my position. This time he kicked my chest, his foot digging into my breast. A gurgled scream left me, and I was putty long enough for him to grab my collar.

“Heavy bitch.” He groaned, buckling under my weight, trying to get me to my feet.

“Ass less chaps went out of style years ago,” I murmured, pressing my palm to his butt check, shoving a gem through the muscle and into the earth. He dropped me, but I put my hands down and forced a ruby cork and a sapphire out the other, sewing it in and out of the man’s legs. He screeched at the top of his lungs, shoving more smoke down my throat. Pulling my hair and clawing at my eyes, but I avoided most of his hits.

“ROCK ON!” Mic’s voice washed out the fog. I covered my ears and rolled away with the airflow. Once his quirk stopped, I got up and saw Hitoshi and Hizashi jogging my way.

“I did it,” I said, pointing to my jewels holding the man down in pain. “I-“ black spots flooded my vision, and I waivered, stumbling over my feet. “I went plus ultra.” My headache was building; I had survived with a little help.

#shinso #Shinsou #shinso x reader #erasermic #eraser family #tw #x reader #enemy to friends to lovers #spar #growth #my hero acadamy #bnha x reader

25 notes · View notes