#and Shal would only ask what for to make conversation. after he's already handed over his entire wallet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xpeachesncream · 4 years

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acquainted | five

> series masterlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 4.2k

warnings: implied sexual content, cussing / mature language, relationship issues, angst, club scene, alcohol consumption, intoxication, seokjin is ready to risk it all cause reader is a huge flirt, the love triangle mess shall begin

notes: AH IM SORRY, THAT’S ALL I HAVE TO SAY?!? I TRIED to make this as fair as possible, but i..... clearly have an issue and just really wanted this to be messy lmao

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Waddup bro." Namjoon steps aside to let Jin in. "Wasn't expecting you to come by since we're seeing each other tonight." Jin chuckled.

"Fuck, that's right." Joon laughs as he hands Jin a bottle of water before sitting.

"What, you forgot? You planned this for your own stepbrother."

"No, I know. Just a lot of things going on." He sips on his water, manspreading in Namjoon's loveseat in the livingroom. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, the headache he felt earlier this morning no longer as bad, but still lingered. After getting home last night, he had tried to push you out of his mind, but failed miserably. It didn't help that he really and genuinely tried to clear the air with Grace, only for her to push him off and sleep on the far end of their bed.

"You alright? What's going on? I feel like I haven't seen you this stressed in a really long time. Last time was probably when you were planning your proposal." Jin softly chuckles, his head still tilted back.

"Yeah, it's been quite the shit show lately."

"Can't be that bad, can it? Have you and Grace been fighting?"

"A tad."

"A tad? The way you're acting right now says it's much more than a tad."

"We've been distant. Busy. We don't do things together anymore." He shortens the shpeel cause quite frankly, he's tired of repeating the story even though he hasn't told many people.

"Why don't you guys talk about it?"

"We can't communicate properly. I try, she gets even more upset and blows me off."

"It's probably just a rough patch in your relationship. I'm sure if you just give each other enough space, you could figure out how to fix things and have a serious conversation about where you both are at and what you need from each other. Remind each other that you're a team, and not working against each other." Jin's slightly shot his head up, his eyebrow raised.

"That's actually pretty solid advice coming from you."

"Shut up, you need help right?" Joon laughs.

"You're right though, it's just been hard. I feel like we've been constantly pushing each other away."

"You two are stubborn."

"Yup, that too." Jin sipped his water.

"I know that's not the only thing on your mind." If it was anyone in Jin's circle, you could count on Namjoon to figure things out before you can even say anything to him. "It's a little hard to believe you came over here to tell me this." In which, he's right. Jin never really talked about his relationship problems, let alone did he go out of his way to tell his friends what was going on. It was more of a thing that naturally came up in conversation when they were all together.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Joon shakes his head.

"Who is she?" Jin watches Namjoon's curious eyes as he leans into the palm of his hand. He was trying to come up with excuses or find ways to see himself out of his conversation, but he couldn't. Namjoon was too smart for this. If it were Yoongi or Hoseok, maybe he could get away with it. The only thing that Jin can come up with is a stupid smirk before he shakes his head and breaks eye contact. "See."

"See what?"

"That smirk. You can't tell me I don't know that smirk. I've been there before, dude. Who is she?" He repeats, causing Jin to succumb to defeat.

"She's a grad student in my creative writing class." Namjoon pauses before he bursts out in laughter.

"I need to sit back and get comfy on my couch for this." He says leaning back and crossing his arms. "She's a grad student? What's her name?" Jin nods.

"Y/N. 25 and so fucking attractive. It's frustrating." Jin groans into his hands.

"And you're telling me you see her more than just a distraction? I mean, I have to ask cause you are going through a rough patch with Grace." Although this is definitely not what Namjoon agrees with, he was only going to advise Jin on how to approach things. But execution-wise, it was up to Jin because this was his life. Namjoon was only part of it.

"She's smart, and she's fun. And.. she's refreshing."

"What did she do to make you feel this way?"

"She kissed me. In my classroom. And," Jin swallows the lump in his throat. "It happened again last night. It almost escalated into other things. But she stopped it." He quickly says because he can see Namjoon's facial expression changing. "She stopped it and she put me in my place because it just made things even more complicated. She said that we should keep our distance from each other."

"Which, she's right Jin. You really can't be doing this." Namjoon says sternly. "Please don't be stupid. This can hurt alot of people, especially since you're still engaged to Grace."

"I know, but likeeeeee--"

"No but's." Joon shook his head. Honestly, he didn't expect this behavior from Jin and it concerned him. "I can't force you on how to act, that's solely up to you. But you need to understand that it has to be one or the other, it can't be both. You either try and work things out with Grace and leave Y/N alone, or you call it quits with Grace."

"Y/N has been occupying my mind lately and it's been hard to push her out."

"Maybe that should be a sign as to what you need to do?" Joon sighs. "I don't know. I don't know her, so I can't say much, but are you really ready to throw away all these years with Grace for her? Like, is it really that serious?" Jin shrugged.

"I don't know, she doesn't want this."

"Correction - she doesn't want this because you're engaged. It's obvious that things would be different if the circumstances changed."

"I love Grace. A lot. We've been through so many things together, lots of ups and downs that taught us things."

"Yeah, and I love you both. I love Grace like a sister. But you can't stick around just because of history and because you both are comfortable, if that's what it really comes down to. It's not fair for both parties. If you find out that this is the end of your relationship with Grace, then it's the end."

"I'm just torn."

"Look, whatever you do, know that I support you no matter what and I'm always going to be here for you. But please do this right, no matter what that is. You can't have both of them."

"Yeah I know, I hear you." Joon nods.

"You're selfish, you know that?" Joon laughs. "You couldn't even introduce her to your single friends?" Jin smiled.

"Nope. Finders keepers." Joon rose his middle finger. "Just do me a favor and keep your mouth shut until I tell Yoongi and Hoseok myself."

"Sure, whatever. Not my battle anyways." He stood up and stretched. "So, where are we taking your little Jungkookie tonight?"

"The club so he can get some for his birthday."

"What a good older brother." Jin laughed.

"Is Grace in New York already?"

"Yep. I'm probably just going to head home and sleep until then. I don't remember the last time I stayed up this late, let alone the last time I went to a club."

"Yeah go home, and not to Y/N's house."

"Should I?" Jin joked, but Namjoon rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding, don't worry. Everything didn't just go in one ear and out the other."

"Yeah, please reassure me and tell me that I didn't waste time giving you advice."

"Oh my god, hurry up!" Jimin groaned loudly as he laid sloppily on your couch, getting restless while waiting for you, Ryujin and Taehyung to finish getting ready. To be fair, you all had been getting ready and fooling around for 2 hours, while Jimin sat patiently and watched whatever was on TV.

"Shut up, Jimin! I'm going to make sure I look good tonight." Ryujin yelled back.

"For who?"

"The dick I'll be getting."

"Why did I even ask?" Jimin sighed and dug his head into a pillow while you and Ryujin continued to yell and sing along loudly to every song that came through on your bluetooth speakers. "You all look good already, please, what else do you need to do?" He mumbled into the pillow. Don't get him wrong, he loves you all to death. He truly does. But it's just been such a long time since you all have gone out like this. He forgot what it was like.

"You know, she really means me." Taehyung tugged on his collar and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip.

"Okay, honestly. You two should probably fuck already. Get it out of your systems, you know?" You say as you dab lip gloss on your lips before shrugging and rolling your eyes. "Jesus Christ."

"Okay, no. You're supposed to be on my side, and that doesn't help." Ryujin's cheeks flush to a rosy tint as she pulls you aside. You knew damn well she was feeling embarrassed because it was true. She wanted to. Once Ryujin finally dusted herself off and was satisfied with her outfit, you both walked out into the living room to meet Jimin and Taehyung. Their eyes widened as they caught sight of you two, Ryujin in a pink, ruched dress with matching pink heels and you in a matching 2-piece skirt and low cut crop top.

"Oh shit, you both look good as hell." Taehyung says as he gets up and continues to eye both of you up and down. Mostly Ryujin, though. "Shall we head out?"

"Yup!" You say as you come to Jimin's side and lead the way out of your apartment. Jimin decided he'd drive tonight since he didn't feel like drinking too much, but he still wanted to go out and have fun. The crew headed to grab dinner at the Farmhouse Kitchen, which served the best Thai food in town. You all enjoyed some good grub, along with some really strong cocktails. You felt super happy that you all had time to finally do this since it's been a minute. You felt like you could finally let lose and get your mind off of things. The things that your dearest bestfriends don't even know about.

But, stories for other days. Tonight, you felt good and you looked good. You were all that and then some. Maybe tonight was the night you could meet a single, fine ass man to dance up on and act up with.

The cocktails were hitting you and Ryujin the most, already feeling tipsy before heading into the club.

"Wooooo!" Ryujin yelled before laughing out loud. "I'm ready!"

"Okay, yes, same, but please keep it together so we can at least make it inside the club." Jimin pleaded. He led your crew up to security, flashing your IDs one by one and paying for the cover fee before stepping in to the already packed nightclub. You and your friends ended up walking in a straight line, holding each other's hands to navigate through the crowd to the bottom floor. The top floor was the most crowded, being it was the house / EDM floor, while the bottom Hip Hop floor wasn't too jammed packed.

"Shots, my friends?" Taehyung asks as he swings over to the front of the bar. You follow behind him and line up against the bartender, asking for some good ol' Don Julio tequila. It wasn't your fave, but it was definitely Taehyung's go-to, and you can't lie, it got the job done quick for you. You all stick around the bar to take your shots, kicking them back to back [besides Jimin] to really get this night started.

As you waited for the final around, Taehyung is scanning the room and notices a group loudly making their way from down the steps and over to the bar. They were cheering on whoever the birthday boy was. A face in the group had looked familiar, so Taehyung squints his eyes to get a better look, and realizes its no other than Jin with his friends.

"Oh, shit! Look! Mr. Kim's here!" Taehyung laughs and says loudly, pointing towards the other end of the bar.

"Is he really?! Let's go take a shot with him and his friends!" Ryujin squeals as she sees him come into full view. You too, get a glimpse of him as they approach the bar and suddenly, you felt hot and nervous - the alcohol being of no help during this time. He looked good, and he didn't look like the already-handsome-professor you had. His hair was more natural, slightly curly, and almost like he had showered and let it messily air dry. The look was perfect on him. Not gonna lie, you were somewhat happy he was here to see how good you looked and part of you really wanted him to crave you until he couldn't take it anymore. You wanted to drive him crazy, and little did you know that you already were. It was a game you didn't mind playing, especially since you knew you couldn't have him.

You shouldn't.

"Ayeeeee! Mr. Kim!" Taehyung's ass yells with Ryujin cheering in the back. He does nothing but flash that smile of his while chuckling. His friends are all really handsome as well, one especially caught your eye with the way his wavy black hair fell down his eyes as he stood against the bar in black ripped jeans and a button up shirt. He seemed to be the youngest out of the group, but you were just assuming.

"Let's take a shot! On me!" Ryujin yells as she runs over with her loud ass. You follow behind her with Taehyung and Jimin, slightly hiding behind Jimin since you were feeling a little shy and awkward at this encounter. The events of the past days just flashed before your eyes, and you can feel Jin's eyes burning holes through you from your peripherals.

"These are your students?" You overhear as one of them looks behind at Jin and laughs.

"Yup." Is all he says, hands deep into his pockets.

"That's her isn't it?" Namjoon says in his ear, loud enough to make sure its clear over the music blasting. Jin simply looks at him without saying a word before returning his attention back on Jungkook, who he noticed was eyeing you. The look said everything to Namjoon.

"Do you know her?" Jungkook points at you and Jin nods.

"Why?"

"Why? She's gorgeous." His eyes light up, causing Namjoon to slightly choke and laugh behind Jin.

"Go for it." Is all Jin says. He's honestly livid right now, because the thought of someone else being able to get a taste of you while he hasn't fucks him up.

"Ohhh, boy." Namjoon sighs. "I hope you're truly over her or else it's going to get really fucked up, you know that right?"

"Don't worry about it." He says, dismissing him as he takes the shot from Yoongi's hand and immediately downs it.

"Hey." The black-haired cutie that caught your eye pushed his way through the group to come into full view. "I'm Jungkook."

"Y/N." You lightly shake his hand before tucking a strand behind your ear.

"I just wanted to say that you're absolutely gorgeous." He says cutely, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Aw, thank you. That's so sweet."

"I, uh—"

"It's his 23rd birthday today!" One of the guys against the bar yells, grabbing Jungkook's shoulders and playfully massaging it.

"Yeah, it's his birthday Y/N! Give the boy some love!" Ryujin winked from where she was at.

"Happy Birthday." You chuckled as he nods.

"Thanks. Maybeeeee you can bless me with a dance after this shot?" He asked shyly. Boy, was he fucking attractive. You could see his thighs poking through the rips of his jeans, his sharp collarbone poking out from the unbuttoned portion of his shirt and his arm muscles defined even in the dark.

"Yeah, I'd love to." You leaned back against the bar as he stood next to you, waiting for the round of shots to come. "Are these your friends?" He chuckled.

"More like big brothers? That's Yoongi, that's Hoseok and that's Namjoon. They're Jin's friends. Jin is my stepbrother." You swallowed the lump in your throat as you quickly glance at Jin, who's side-eyeing you as he leans against the bar. You have got to be fucking kidding me. God was truly testing you.

"Ohhhh." You respond. "That's sweet of them to take you out."

"I honestly didn't wanna do much, let alone come to the club. It's not really my thing, but I'm glad I did or else I wouldn't have met you." He smiled, his smile being just as perfect as his stepbrother's.

"I'm glad I could make your birthday a good one after all." Ryujin suddenly comes to your side and gives your arm a good squeeze.

"He's a cutie! You better hop on that since Mr.Kim is taken." She says in your ear, pulling you into a hug.

"That's his stepbrother."

"Even better!" She exclaims, making you shake your head. You all gather and take the last round of shots in honor of Jungkook's birthday and shit gets wild, quick. Your group led them to the dance floor, partying together like you had known them since forever. It didn't feel awkward at all knowing it was Jin and group of friends, but it did get awkward when you felt the tension with Jin every time you were near him. He didn't like seeing you dance all up on his stepbrother, getting all handsy and touchy-feely when just the other night, you were straddling his lap, ready to risk it all.

Hell, what was he gonna do though? He couldn't do shit. Not with his people around, especially Namjoon.

You knew this. He didn't have to say anything for you to know he wasn't a fan of it. You'd catch him looking at you throughout the night, his eyes hungry and almost dark. Let's get this straight - there's no bad blood here. You're not mad or bitter [slightly]. You're just having your fun because you're single and can do whatever the fuck you want. You know he wants you, what's wrong with a little tease?

A couple of songs have passed and Ryujin has made her way through Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon, and now she was back to doing her own thing on the dance floor. Jimin has had a couple of ladies welcome themselves onto his lap, and he gladly accepted. You loved seeing Jimin have fun and you especially loved when girls swooned at the sight of him because he was deserving of it and he was mighty good looking. He always worked hard and never gave himself a break.

You, on the other hand, had been stuck to the hip with Jungkook and you had brought him deeper into the dance floor, away from the group just to get a little alone time. You had danced up on him majority of the night, his muscular arms always gently bringing you back against his body. You both were feeling some type of way with the alcohol running through your veins, but you weren't complaining one bit. Alcohol or not, Jungkook was fine.

"So, are you going to let me take you out on a date?" Jungkook asks in your ear, causing you to bite onto your bottom lip.

"I'd love to go out on a date with you." You face him, his smile going from ear to ear as he nods and starts taking down your number. To be honest, you could be here all night with him, but you decided you needed a break from all this dancing and from the crowded dance floor. You quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom, suddenly needing to break the seal really badly and freshen up. As you were exiting the bathroom, Jin was also exiting the men's bathroom at the same time. You both locked eyes, with you breaking the contact with a small, toothless smile before walking off.

"Y/N." He says, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards him. His body is against the back wall, both of your groups distant and not as visible from where you're standing. He looks down at you, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

"Jin."

"You haven't said one word to me all night."

"I'm trying to keep my distance from you, remember?"

"You know that's not necessary." His hand was now on the small of your back, fingers gently caressing your back in small circles.

"It is. You know what you do to me." You say as you look down at his lips. Truthfully.

"And so do you." You can feel his breath against your skin and it sends goosebumps down your entire body. You're trying your hardest right now to not get turned on by this man, let alone throw yourself onto him. "This isn't fair, you know?"

"I gotta get back to everyone." You say, slightly pulling back.

"Just for the record," He gently pulls you back, his other hand lifting your chin. "Jungkook might have you right now, but I know in the end you'll be coming home to me and that's all that matters." He lets go of your wrist and walks away, leaving you slightly dumbfounded at the way he stood his ground like that. Your panties felt soaked, and you wanted nothing more but to ride this man into the next dimension. He was truly testing you, and quite frankly, you could burst any minute now.

"You okay?" Jimin says, lightly squeezing your arm. "You were gone for awhile."

"Yeah, long line." You lied.

"We're thinking about heading out, you good with that?" You nod silently. You look around to see Ryujin flirting with Yoongi and Namjoon, making you shoot him a look. "Not me, all you. Go get her." He shakes his head, chuckling.

"Alright, I need to say bye to Jungkook anyways."

"Oooh, Jungkook." He wiggles his eyebrows. You make your way over to the area that Jin and his friends are occupying, prying Ryujin's drunk ass away. You give Jungkook a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, letting him know you'd be waiting for his text.

Finally, you all headed out of the club and into Jimin's car, Ryujin being the first drop off of the night. Thank God he had decided to drive, because all three of you were still pretty tipsy and in no condition to get behind the wheel.

"Y/N, listen to me. You need to hop on Jungkook because he's fine as fuck!" Ryujin's drunk ass yells in the backseat as Jimin is making his way to her house.

"Ouch, Ry, stop kicking my chair." Jimin whines.

"Y/N, did you hear me?"

"I hear you loud and clear, Ry. Thank you." You laugh.

"And you, Jimin! I hope you grabbed a ton of numbers because there were tons of pretty ladies feeling you tonight and you need a girl!"

"Perfect, thank you for pointing out how single I am." He says, making Taehyung snorts.

"What about me?"

"Shut up, Tae. You don't need shit. Mind your own business." You and Jimin laugh in your seats.

"Also, Mr. Kim was really eyeing the hell out of you tonight, Y/N." She adds, making you sigh silently to yourself.

"Actually, I concur." Jimin chimes in. "He couldn't keep his eyes off of you."

"Mistress Y/N." Taehyung calls out, causing you to turn and pinch him on the leg. If you haven't gotten it by now, Tae loves to tease the fuck out of you by calling you a mistress. It's been his thing since you got all googly-eyed for him. And you hated it. You truly wanted to fight him every single time.

"It was nothing. He was probably just drunk."

"Sure." Jimin responds. "Call it what you want, he was definitely feeling you tonight." The ride goes silent, which, you're happy that none of them are pressing on it. You were not trying to get caught up at this moment.

Ryujin gets dropped off before Jimin makes his way to your apartment, parking in the yellow passenger/loading zone. Taehyung is knocked out in the back seat, while Jimin throws his hazards on and walks you to the front door of the lobby.

"Thanks for driving, Chim." He smiles and pulls you into a hug.

"No prob. Call me if you need me?" You nod. You walk in and get into the elevator, Jimin and his car disappearing in sight. You take a deep breath and sigh because you had been having an internal battle since the moment you stepped out of the club.

You were losing.

You stepped out of the elevator, only to step into your apartment to quickly freshen up and throw on comfier clothes. You find yourself heading back downstairs to meet your Uber. You knew exactly where you were going and you knew exactly what you were doing.

But you didn't give a fuck. You had been dying to get your needs fulfilled and the only person you wanted was a quick 25 minute Uber trip away.

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sweetchup · 4 years

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💌Acting Naive (?)💌

Type: Shalnark x reader

Prompt: 14—Love potion + 7—Innocent/Corruption Kink

Author Note: Ah! @pastelbear12 I hope you like your request! I made sure it was really good for you! Especially as a fellow writer and Shalnark stan! Enjoy💕💕💕!!

(Valentine’s Day Masterlist)

Blue, Pink, Purple, Green, Blue…

…Round, cylinder, was that a square?

You just couldn’t fathom all the potions this clan of witches had hidden in their basement. Hell, You bet your boss, Chrollo, didn’t even realize there was this much when he sent you guys out to steal them.

“Hey (y/n). How many do you exactly think there are?” Phinks questions, gobsmacked at the amount just as much as you are.

“I don’t know…” You mumble out, looking around the room, “Honestly, Phinks… I’m not even sure how we are going to transport them out of here…”

“Wel—“ “Oh wow! That’s a lot more than expected.”

You flinch as a familiar happy go lucky voice is heard by the doorway. You thought the boss put him on another mission.

“Oh hey Shal!” Phinks shouts out, just as surprised as you were, “What are you doing here?”

“The boss wanted me to come join you guys since I finished gathering information for him early.” Shalnark explains, walking up to you two. However, even as Shalnark begins to chat with Phinks, you could still feel his eyes flicker to your figure ever so often.

It wasn’t that you hated Shalnark, you just… particularly didn’t like him. Mostly due to the fact, he didn’t give you the best impression when you showed up as a replacement number 4.

According to him, he didn’t understand why you should be the replacement member. You were “cute” and “naive”, not the best fit to replace the former number 4. He also thought your ability wouldn’t work well with the members you were designated to work with.

Honestly, You could have understood where he was coming from, all Shalnark wanted was to make sure the Troupe succeeded. But, you also believed he didn’t have to say all this in front of the whole group with you in the room. It embarrassed you so much, you nearly stormed out of there.

Naturally, of course, this event created a rift between you two. A general dislikeness to the other person.

“(Y/n),” Phinks suddenly calls out, catching your attention, “What did you think of the plan?”

“What plan?” You questioned. Slightly scowling as you see Shalnark’s lip slightly twitch up a little as Phink responds with a sigh. Cheeky Bastard…

“The plan is that I’m going to go grab Fei’s group to come help us. But, In the meantime, You and Shalnark can start taking count of the potions.” Phinks explains, already putting on his pharaoh helmet to get ready to leave.

“Wait. Wouldn’t it make more sense to grab Machi’s group? Feitan’s group is a traveling distance of 3 days away while Machi’s is only 1 day away.” You question out, thinking it was a logical conclusion. However, you were only met with Shalnark letting out a small chuckle. Almost as if what you said was a hilarious joke to him, “What’s so funny?”

“Well, I find it so funny that you are practically rushing to try to get the mission over with. What’s with that? Do you have some sort of date you have to get to for Valentine’s Day?” You slightly flinch as Shalnark happy expression turns much darker; mockingly in a way, “That’s pretty irresponsible of you. You do realize troupe activities come first? Oh wait… You likely don’t care because—“

“Shal,” Phinks barks out, stopping his friend from finishing his sentence. As Phinks comes closer to stand in front of you, you now notice Shalnark has gotten much closer to you than before, “Fighting or attacking troupe members isn’t allowed. You should know this.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t going to,” Shalnark responds with a lighthearted pout. However, you see a ever so slight twitch in his fingers that contradicts his previous statement. It seemed that he was practically just itching at the chance to stab you with his antenna.

Woah, that’s new….

Shalnark has never before given a hint that he hated you that much. Sure, he messed with your missions or denied helping you sometimes but even that was never enough that could possibly hurt or kill you.

However, that seemed to be the least of your worries right now. With Phinks being here, you could at least avoid Shalnark insults or possible attempts to attack you, especially since Phinks can step in to interfere as an older member as well. But if Phinks is still set with trying to leave to go grab Feitan’s group then… you are in big trouble.

“Hey Phinks. How about I just go grab Feitan’s group?” You ask cautiously as you interrupt their conversation (Well, more like bickering). About to explain your reasoning when Phinks cuts you off.

“No, neither of you two are going anywhere. This little feud between you two has escalated way too much. We are going to solve this problem right here and now.” Phinks grumbles out, sending a slight glare Shalnark's way to tell him not to even try to rebut. “Also Meaning, you two are going to allow each other to talk in order to solve this.”

After Phinks stops speaking, a thick silence settles over the room. Neither of you attempted to start to talk to the either and it seemed, from your perspective, that Shalnark wasn’t happy about being forced to participate in this bonding event at all. Well technically you shouldn’t judge as you weren’t happy about this either but, at the very least, you were willing to participate if it solved this petty problem of you two.

“Well…,” You started, breaking the thick silence, “I first wanna know what I did to get you to dislike me so much.”

You watch as Shalnark rolls his eyes in slight annoyance. He wasn’t planning on answering you but a hard swift slap to the back by Phinks makes him think twice about that decision.

“It’s that fake act you do.” Shalnark grumbles out, winching slightly as Phinks puts his hand up again, “I-I mean I don’t like how you act towards us.”

“Pardon?” You let out, accidently. Quite confused at what he was referring to. You’ve never acted a certain way specifically towards Shalnark or any of the members in that matter.

“Don’t act stupid—“ “Shal…” Phinks warns out, cutting Shalnark off. However instead of backing off like before, Shalnark continues.

“You know it. The one where you act all ‘I’m miss innocent and cute, I don’t know things~’. That stupid ass one.”

However instead of understanding what he was saying, you get even more confused. You will admit you can be a little naive at times but you’ve never acted or played into it.

“I still don’t get it. I don’t specifically act—“

“There it is! That.” Shalnark shouts out suddenly as he points his finger accusingly at you, taking a step forward also. “You just titled your head to the side slightly as if you were some confused puppy!”

You can’t help but feel heat suddenly bloom up to your face. You hadn’t even realized you did that sort of thing. God, you must have looked like a fool, an idiot—

“And there’s another one! You just tried to hide your face behind your hands.” Shalnark exclaims again, pulling your hands down and away from your face.

“H-hey. I-I don’t get why all this matt— Oof.”

Suddenly, as you take a step back to keep some space between you and Shalnark, You don’t realize how close you are to the shelves and hit your back hard against one. It creaks for a second and you think nothing of the sound. Well, nothing of it until something hard shatters on top of your head, dosing you in some sort of strange sticky liquid.

“Shit.” Phinks curse out, both his and Shalnark’s eyes blown out wide as they look at you. “(Y/n) are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. Just my head hurts a little…” You mumble out, pulling your hand away from your head to see it was covered in a little bit of blood. Uh oh…, that wasn’t good. That could only mean the potion got absorb into your bloodstream…

“Welp…, it seems like she’s going to die.” Shalnark says matter of factly, making you snap your head up to look at him. However, instead of yelling at him, your words suddenly felt stuck and clogged up in your throat. Ever so slowly as if a fog came over you, your mind starts to grow fuzzy, unable to make you think clearly. What was going on? Was the potion only now taking effect?

However, unaware of your current predicament, Phinks had started bickering with Shalnark. Angry at not only his bitterness towards you but also his unwillingness to help you out just as a fellow teammate.

“Shal, Dude. Her thing isn’t an act. The boss has been over this. She acts this way even towards Kortopi, who, I’m sure you can understand, wouldn’t benefit her in any way.”

“Well, she might be still trying to get on his good side so she—“

Phinks cuts Shalnark off by grabbing him by the collar. Pulling his friend so they were face to face, Phinks speaks again. This time in an extremely serious tone that tells Shalnark there isn’t going to be any more of these ‘if’s’ or ‘buts’ from out of him.

“Shal. Just stop. If she had the choice to attack or use one of us, she would have done it by now. Chrollo has allowed her to guard him alone more times than I can count, just to see if your suspicions were correct. And, in all those times, she didn’t show the slightest bit of desire to get information out of him or attempt to try to fight him. So, Cut. It. Out. This is not only hindering our mission no— Shit.“

Phinks suddenly let go of Shalnark to grab you, who from the corner of his vision was wobbling slightly.

“(Y/n). Sit down.” Phinks mumbles out as he helps you to the ground. As he crouches down to look at you, he can’t help but grow even more worried. You didn’t look good, at all.

So bad, he knew they needed to race to go find Shizuku right at that very moment. And it didn’t reassure him any better that he was the fastest one out of you three at the moment.

“Shal.” Phinks calls out, making Shalnark snap his head to him, “We need to go grab Shizuku from Machi’s group now and since I’m the fastest I need to go. Don’t give (y/n) a hard time and you better try to help.”

Without attempting to hear Shalnark’s response or possible rebuttal, Phinks has already raced out the door. Leaving Shalnark alone to try and take care of you. Something he honestly has never imagined doing.

“S-Shal…” You suddenly stutter out, breaking the man’s attention from staring at the door. Shit, you seriously didn’t look good.

“Yeah?” He questions, still apprehensive to try and help you as he crouched down. Shalnark can’t help but feel a shiver go up his spine as you looked up at him. A hand hiding the front of your mouth told him you were embarrassed. A thing he’s seen you do many times before when you weren’t sick.

Perhaps,... Phinks was correct and the cute things you do aren’t actually an act. You would have definitely dropped it by now with the horrible condition you were in.

“C-can…Can you kiss me?” You suddenly beg out, nearly making Shalnark have to do a double take.

“What…?” Shalnark lets out, unable to stop his surprise at what you were saying—suggesting—for him to do. Have you gone fucking insane?

“P-please.” You mumble out, your words slightly slurred and incoherent as you move yourself, “I’ll do anything.”

Shalnark goes to speak again to quickly deny your request but suddenly feels himself choke on his own words. Slowly, He had to put a hand up to his mouth to check his jaw hadn’t dropped and he hadn’t started drooling. Especially with the position you had moved to because, Holy shit…

With your arms stretched out forward, hands slightly opening and closing to urge him to come near, it looked like you were innocently begging him for a hug. Well, it would have been considered innocent if your legs weren’t opened up as well. With you wearing just a skirt, it gave him a clear view of your underwear that was already dripping in your arousal.

Oh, all the things he was imagining to do to you right now…

“S-see. I’ll do anything you want. I just need you close to me-e.” You beg out, seeing how Shalnark’s gaze was trained on your lower half. Your pleas clearly worked on Shalnark as he can feel himself starting to harden more in his pants. “I-I love you. I need you. Please—“

You can’t help but let out a little gasp as you are suddenly tugged forward by your ankles. The cold feeling of the cement basement ground leaks through your sweaty skin and clothes as you fall backwards, making you also unconsciously arch your back closer to Shalnark.

However, your attention towards the uncomfortable cold stinging the ground produced is short-lived as you feel one of Shalnark’s hands push your underwear away. You let out a small whine as Shalnark rubs your clit, the intense pleasure shooting like fireworks throughout your whole body. It was so much for you, almost painful in a way, making you quickly wiggle away from his touch.

“What’s wrong?” Shalnark mumbles out, his words hardly heard as he presses small wet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. Trying to hold himself back from completely and utterly wrecking you once he sees how you were helplessly trying to escape from him. Why did he hate your cuteness again?

“I-I’ve never been touched there,” You answer back, making Shalnark’s hand freeze in his ministrations, “Too much-h.”

“Have you ever been touched…?” Shalnark finally asks out after a long pause.

“N-no. Never.” You whine out, gasping as Shalnark snaps your soaked panties back into place. Using the back of his knuckles to rub the fabric against your sensitive folds, only to drag them down and off your ankles seconds later. You are confused as to why he doesn’t choose to throw them to the side until you hear a zipper being undone, “Shal…”

You can’t help but cross and rub your thighs together as you look down to the thing that was between his legs. It sounded childish but you couldn’t help but wonder how that was even supposed to fit inside you.

“(Y/n)... Come here...” Your attention snaps away from your thighs to Shalnark at his sudden call. Oh, so that's what he was using them for…

You gulp as you slowly crawl over to Shalnark, your eyes trained on his hand that was smothering the wetness of your panties onto his dick. As you sat in front of him, you can’t help but shakily reach one of your hands out. As your hand touches the warm flesh, you feel it twitch under your touch. You hesitate for a second before enveloping your hand around it. Unconsciously gulping as you realized you were unable to wrap your hand fully around the shaft due to how thick it was.

“G-good.” Shalnark moans out, his body slightly shaking as he attempts to keep his cool as you add your second hand. Fuck, Your hands were unimaginably soft, driving him insane as they worked their way around his length. And the pure fact you clearly had no idea what you were doing and was clumsy trying to give him pleasure, for some odd reason, turned him on even more.

Damn, you were so cute and innocent. Naive to the point you didn’t understand what he could possibly do to you at a moment's notice. How much he could easily just slip inside of you and turn you into his whiny little thing. Slobbering and drugged up on the pleasure he would continuously induce upon you. Making you beg for his every touch and word until your throat hurts. Begging for him to pump his load in you, to be his pretty little obedient toy.

“Fuck.” Shalnark murmurs out, catching you off guard as he pulls your hand off his length by your wrist. You let out a small whine in rebuttal, wanting to touch him more, until you see that ever so slight lustful haze over his eyes.

Happily you allowed the blonde man to move you around so you were positioned on your hands and knees; your back arched and butt stuck up in the air just for him to see. Honestly if he wasn’t craving to be inside you right now, he would have definitely taken a picture. The sight would have made a perfect new background for his home screen.

As he lines himself up at your entrance, he hears your breath suddenly hitch. Testing to see how you do, he slowly slips only the head of his length in. Woah. Instantly a shiver goes up his spine as he feels your walls squeeze and unsqueeze around his tip, your body struggling to accommodate the sudden intrusion.

He really wanted to go slow. After all, he truly felt bad for how he had been treating you before all this. But once you tilted your head to the side to look up at him with those doe-like eyes of yours, it was as if all his patience had suddenly snapped.

“Shal!” You yell out, your hands balled into fist as you had nothing to hold onto, to possibly ground yourself.

“It will feel g-good. I promise.” Shalnark mumbles out incoherently. Lost in pleasure as he continues to piston in and out of you. His top half eventually draping over yours as he attempts to get even deeper inside you; pressing small encouraging kisses to the back of your shoulder blades as you continued to take every inch of him.

Eventually, Shalnark was right. It was as if things suddenly clicked and everything felt just oh so good. You thought you were in heaven with the amount of pleasure you felt rushing through your body. Even though the man inducing these feelings upon you could hardly be considered a heavenly being. Then again, with what you have done, you weren't much better than him.

“Ah! R-Right there. Please, Please, please!” You cry out, feeling an even intenser flash of pleasure come upon you as he hits a specific spot. “S-Shal!”

It only took a couple more hits to that pleasurable spot to push you over the edge. Turning you into a dazed and drooling mess as you couldn’t stop yourself from whining out how good Shalnark made you feel and how you loved him ever so much.

“S-shit.” Shalnark groans out, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he suddenly feels a hot flash of pleasure come over him as well. His hips methodically grinding against your hole as he works his way through his high. Slightly overstimulating you in a way as his ever so warm white ropes of his cum start to fill you up. You never thought you would enjoy such a primal feeling of being filled up by someone’s cum. Honestly, you could have cummed again from just that alone.

As you feel Shalnark lean his forehead against your back to catch his breath, you slowly feel your mind becoming clearer. As if a strange fog has been lifted off of your senses. However, you honestly wished it stayed as everything that has happened while under that strange potion has suddenly come crashing down on you.

You didn’t know what to do, what to think. Actually, would anyone know what to do if they suddenly realized they had sex on Valentine’s Day with a teammate that hated their guts and couldn’t even stand being in the same room before now?

Then again you should have known that, even in a situation like this, Shalnark doesn’t exactly fall into the category of the average person.

“H-hey!” You choke out in surprise as you feel Shalnark suddenly lift one of your legs over his shoulder, forcing you to lay on your side as he starts to move his hips again. His dick already hardening back up to where it was before.

You wanted to rebut. Wanted to tell him to calm down and to talk this whole strange situation out. But, then again, why would you?

With him already plowing into you deeper than before, mixing and pushing his cum deeper inside you and creating this dangerous cocktail of pleasure. How could you possibly tell him to stop when you wanted to continue?

Especially when he had just referred to you as his good little girl.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #shalnark #shalnark ryusei #shalnark x reader

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fw00shy · 3 years

Note

hello!! i see that you're taking prompts 👀❣️ i would love to see your take on hitman draco - whose next target is harry

hello shal!! I loved your prompt and wanted to write something super dangerous and sexy for it, but instead I wrote this. 😅

Horrible Luck

Harry/Draco | M | 2.8k | Hit-Wizards, Humor, Catsuit, brief mention of dudley working out in front of the telly | ao3 link

When does a relationship stop moving forward and start looping back like a broken time-turner, intent on rewinding the same disagreements in perpetude? When did all the little quirks Draco used to love about Harry turn into a list of things he wouldn't need to deal with if he were alone? Draco's mind is on his kitchen table this morning — specifically, the half-eaten plate of eggs that Harry left behind; Harry knows the kneazle will sick up from it — so Draco doesn't notice the name on his latest assignment until he's already signed off the disclosure forms.

Harry James Potter.

"We don't need him dead for a few days," Pansy's saying. "Just get it done before the Rodney Snyder Bill comes to a vote in Parliament on Monday."

"Get it done..." Draco trails off, swallowing sickly.

"Yes, Draco? Sorry — oh-thirteen. Blast this numbering system. It isn't as though you're on my payroll as 013. I'm tempted to order a hit on you just so I won't need to write all five bloody titles of yours every two weeks. Only joking, of course — Draco? You alright there?" She taps the heel of her stiletto against the desk, where she has it propped up next to her coffee.

Draco blinks. "Right, yes. Before the Rodney Snyder Bill. Which bill is that again?"

"It's the usual hem-haw about how life is so unfair blahblahblah." Pansy waves the peacock-feathered quill in her left hand. "Don't worry yourself over it. Are you all worked up because it's Harry Potter? I know you had a bit of a tiff with him back in school, but hadn't we all? Potter's an absolute waste of breath if you ask me."

"It's not that..."

"What is it? If it's because of his involvement in the last war, you needn't worry about that. All our sources report that he's nothing more than a tax acrobat for Muggles now, on the days that he's not wreaking havoc with his voting powers in Parliament. I don't know what half those words mean, but I want a drink just for saying them out loud."

Draco decides that it is probably not in his best interest to tell Pansy that Harry was actually a tax accountant, and yes — it is indeed as dull as Neville Longbottom's surprisingly round bottom if their dinnertime conversations concerning the subject matter are any indicator.

Draco's mind flits briefly back home. He hopes their kneazle didn't manage to eat any of the eggs before Draco cleaned up Harry's forgone plate. Who knows where she'll puke it up this time. If she ruins his pillow again... Potter is in for a slaying. Only verbally, of course.

"Don't worry about me," Draco says.

"I never do," Pansy says far too flippantly to be a lie. "As I said, you have a few days, so finesse it however you like. Toy with him a bit, for all I care. Get him in bed, then turn a wand on him — go wild. Now doesn't that sound exciting!"

Draco decidedly does not tell her about the last time he "turned a wand" on Harry in bed. Let's just say that it was both slippery and steamy and smelt faintly of strawberries.

"Alright, Pan — sorry, P. I'll get it done. You know I will."

"That's my boy," she smirks. "Now come give me a kiss before you go."

Pansy started demanding that sort of goodbye after she picked it up from a Muggle romcom. "Absolutely disgusting," she'd proclaimed, kissing Draco's cheeks. But the kisses stayed while the mocking subsided. Don't let it fool you, though — she still has plenty of unlearning to do. They get along fine as long as Pansy keeps her mouth shut.

Which is practically never. This is Pansy, after all. Her father liked to joke that she was born wailing for someone to wipe her arse. But Pansy is the only family Draco has left.

The next few days pass in the doldrums of a daily routine. Draco goes off to the local library and does his usual research (a combination of Muggle Internet and blood spells for tracking; Find My Friends is a godsend) despite knowing full well where Harry is at all times. He watches Harry's green dot make its way down the tube to the financial district by way of the Pret a Manger on 3rd Street. The blinking green dot doesn't move for several hours (it never does; Draco knows because he tracks Harry every few weeks out of paranoia). Draco is starving by noon, but he hangs on until three to see if Harry's dot will move the slightest; but alas, Harry is as much the meticulous Gryffindor hero at tax accounting as he was at Horcrux hunting; he doesn't do so much as grab a bite at the cafe in the lobby.

Harry heads home at precisely five-thirty. Draco waits a respectable fifteen minutes before doing the same, so Harry has time to put dinner on the table. The spread tonight smells delicious as it always is: roasted chicken and potatoes, broccolini, those purple carrots that Harry covets from the Muggle farmer's market; homemade treacle tart for dessert. Sometimes Draco wonders how Harry can manage all of this in the fifteen minutes he has before Draco gets home, but he never questions it for long. Who knows how cooking charms work. Not Draco. He's still a Malfoy, after all.

Harry kisses him good-evening before they sit for dinner. They share meaningless conversation about their day. Draco makes up some story about how Hannah in Marketing took the last premade salad he wanted from the deli down the block and is appalled over how, even in his made-up life, he's about as dull as Neville's — well, you know.

"If I hear another word about Neville Longbottom's surprisingly round bottom, I'm going to start thinking you want to fuck it," Harry declares while savagely tearing into his chicken thigh. Draco shudders at the sight; whoever taught Harry how to cook clearly forgot to teach him how to eat.

Still, it's a clear opening for a fight. Draco welcomes it as one does a summer storm, and soon they're throwing plates at each other. The kneazle (Morticia; Granger's idea) scampers out of the kitchen — that Hufflepuff coward — and Draco manages to graze Harry's left cheek before they stall to catch their breath.

The calm is a fallacy, of course; the eerie stillness of a storm's eye, broken up in the next minute with a low growl, and they're clawing at each other again. Except now, Draco is inexplicably hard.

But still, so incredibly bored.

What is the standard deviation of the time from start to Scourgify? Draco wouldn't be surprised if it's less than five minutes.

Monday comes and goes. Draco's thinking about Harry's dirty socks, the ones he tucks between the sofa cushions, while Pansy dresses him down for his latest failure.

"I swear, oh-thirteen. If we weren't like family..." Pansy trails off, her crimson-lacquered nail pointed threateningly at Draco.

"Sorry, Pans," Draco says, trying his level best to look his most innocent. It's not his fault he's an awful hit-wizard, alright? They should've known from his resume. Ronald Weasley, Katie Bell, Rosmerta, Dumbledore... mainly, he kills his marks by accident. He's got horrible luck.

Pansy declares that this is Draco's final chance. And then a week passes, and Harry stays alive. Draco's dead bored staring at his boyfriend's unmoving green dot all day on Apple Maps. He's made friends with Stephanie-the-librarian, though; they go out for a pick-me-up around three pm, and then Draco makes up stories about how she sends him racy pictures of their fake manager and this and that over dinner with Harry. All's okay if not precisely thrilling until the bill passes with Harry still alive, and then Draco reports to Pansy's office with Theo also in the room.

Theo is wearing a full suit, which is par for the course. But Draco knows he's in trouble because Pansy has her heels off her desk.

"Oh-thirteen," Theo booms. "You let the James Buckles Bill pass."

"Which one is that?" Draco asks between nervous swallows.

"Ten-percent increase in taxes on long-term capital gains," Theo explains the same time Pansy snaps, "None of your business."

"Right." Draco has no idea what these words mean. "Umm... sorry?"

"And the week before," Theo says, pacing now, "you let the Rodney Synder Bill pass."

"Ten-percent increase on income tax for those who make more than seven figures a year," Pansy says before Draco can ask.

Figures? Income? None of this means anything to Draco. If he wanted to be a solicitor... well, he's a Malfoy. Malfoys solicit, never solicitator. Or whatever the word for it is.

"It's only two bills, sir," Pansy pipes up in Draco's defence. "Meaningless in the grand scheme of things compared to the Pepper Oakley Bill tomorrow."

"What is —"

"Thirty-percent increase on property tax on all parcels of land within major metropolitan districts, and a twenty-percent increase on all property over two acres, compounding," Pansy hisses to Draco before turning her full attention back to Theo. "Which will not pass. Draco's been building up a relationship with the mark, hasn't he?" She kicks Draco with the pointed tip of her heel.

"Yes!" Draco yelps out in pain. "Yes, absolutely. I've been building... a relationship with Ha — the mark. He's umm. He thinks we're in love."

Theo regards Draco with narrowed eyes. "In love."

"Turns out he's desperately lonely," Draco says with a mocking sneer, though the truth is that they were both rather pathetic in the beginning.

Draco's story passes Theo's muster. He straightens up and gives them one last menacing glower before he leaves. Draco and Pansy stare at the door for a long, vacant second.

Pansy turns to Draco with a sigh when Theo's footsteps retreat down the hall. "Are you really seeing Potter?"

"Oh. Umm... sort of."

"I'm happy for you," she says. "You worry me, you know. Can't be too healthy for the aura with you sulking about all the time."

"Right," Draco says.

"Right," Pansy agrees. She schools her features. "Sorry about the, um — having to kill your boyfriend."

"It's alright," Draco says.

"Right." She coughs. "Well, then. I suppose you ought to go prep. Remember to get it done before tomorrow morning. If I were you, I'd get it done tonight, so you can stop worrying about it and have a decent night's sleep. Now come and give me a kiss before you go."

Draco short-circuits his usual trip to the library and heads straight home. The midday sun comes in too bright from the printed kitchen curtains. He's never noticed how disproportionately large the clumsily illustrated lemons are in comparison to the cherries and ice cubes — but that's what he gets for letting Harry pick the print. When Harry's dead, he'll replace them with a pattern worthy of the Malfoy name. He's always liked snakes and daggers (just the image of them; they're ghastly in reality).

He gets hungry enough around three to rifle through their cabinets for a snack. All he finds are two expired Twinkies and a can of tuna that he realises only after his first bite that it's meant for Morticia. He briefly considers popping by the library to see what Stephanie's up to before deciding against it. He needs to focus on murdering his boyfriend.

Draco is in the middle of purging his wardrobe when he finds his hit-wizard uniform hanging in the back. It's all black and one-piece, like a Muggle wetsuit but much sleeker, like a seal. But not as adorably chubby. More like Catwoman. Lithe, but deadly. Unfortunately, it's not a very practical uniform for murder, so Draco hasn't worn it in years. He slips it on out of morbid curiosity and is pleasantly surprised to find that it still fits him — especially around his arse. Morgana and Mordred both, his arse.

He loses track of time admiring himself in the mirror. And that's when Harry opens the bedroom door.

"Fuck," Draco says. His wand is out and trained on Harry's chest. (Hit-wizard reflexes; Draco's terrible at murder but surprisingly adept at keeping himself alive.) "I — um. I can explain."

"Merlin, you look hot in that," Harry says. He sounds like he's come back from running. "I've always wanted to see you wear it."

"What?"

"Your hit-wizard catsuit." Harry holds both hands up and steps toward Draco. "So fucking hot. I'm going to fuck you into a wall if you let me get any closer. Promise."

Did someone start up the fireplace? "I knew you stared a bit too hard at Halle Berry's arse the last time we watched Catwoman."

"Can you blame me for imagining what you'd look in it?"

"You don't look so bad yourself," Draco purrs. He can't help himself; Harry hasn't looked so fit in years. What is it about him today? Did he do something different with his hair? No...

Harry disarms Draco's wand hand and pushes him up against the wall. He's always been good at following through on his promises.

Draco's washing up in the shower when he realises what's different about Harry today. Harry's wearing an Auror uniform.

Draco bursts out of the shower still wet and dripping. He finds Harry in the living room with the telly on.

"You're going to ruin the carpet with all that water," Harry says, his nose scrunched. He's still got his crimson Auror robes blatantly bunched over the sofa.

"You're a fucking liar," Draco says. "Muggle tax accountant? I can't believe I bought that lie."

Harry remains painfully nonchalant. "We both had our secrets."

"But you knew mine." Merlin, for how long? Was their whole relationship a sham to —

Harry sighs and spells Draco dry. A bathrobe — plushy and cottony, Draco's favourite — flies in from the bedroom to wrap around Draco's shoulders.

Draco begrudgingly shrugs it on.

"Sit down," Harry says, patting the space next to him. Draco almost does as asked, but stops when he spots the smelly old sock peeking between the seat cushions.

"You're an Auror," Draco says. His lips sneer involuntarily at the betrayal.

"And you're the hit-wizard out to kill me. Yet we're both still here," Harry says. "Come on, Draco. Sit down."

Draco eyes the sock.

Harry's face purples. "Is this about the bloody sock? For the thousandth time, it's not me leaving them about. It's Morticia!"

Harry vanishes the sock. Suitably appeased, Draco walks over to their sofa and sits primly at the edge of it.

"I wasn't actually going to kill you," Draco says by way of an apology.

"I know that," Harry says. "You're an idiot. Hit-wizard, really? It's a wonder how I ever thought you were my nemesis."

"That is absolutely rude and uncalled for," Draco says. "I was plenty good at Quidditch."

Harry grins. "I'll give you that. Most distracting arse on the pitch... some things never change."

"You don't look so bad yourself in those robes," Draco says. He coughs. "I mean. We should... talk."

"Yes."

They've never been good at talking.

"So..." Harry says slowly. "What are you going to tell them when I'm still alive tomorrow?"

"Oh, I dunno. Can't you pretend you're dead? Please? For me."

"I'll be helping a lot of people if we pass this bill," Harry says apologetically.

Right. Saviour complex. Draco's painfully familiar with compromising around that character flaw. "Pansy's going to kill me," Draco sighs. "Well, unless we kill her first. But I'd rather not. She's my favourite person in the world — besides, you, of course."

"She's actually. Um." Harry coughs. "I think she's going to be fine."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... err."

"No," Draco gasps. "No, don't tell me she's been a mole this whole time."

"Err. Well..." Harry scratches the back of his head. "Did you know she's getting married to my cousin Dudley?"

"The awful Muggle bully?"

"He's um. He turned alright in the end? He's been working out in front of the telly. Bought these free weights and all... says it's really changed his outlook on life."

"Sweating in front of the telly changed his life?"

"Something like that," Harry says.

"That sounds disgusting."

"Yeah... I try not to think about it much either. So, err… takeaway? Greek, maybe? You loved the rotisserie chicken we had a few weeks ago. Before um, you started throwing it at me."

Shouldn't they be discussing something serious? Draco already forgets what. "Takeaway? But don't you —"

"Right," Harry laughs. "Now that everything else is out in the open, I suppose there's no harm in you knowing that I order takeaway and vanish away the boxes before you come home."

"I..."

"Draco? You aren't mad, are you?"

Mad, no. Surprised — absolutely. But Draco should've known that dating Harry Potter would never be boring.

Read on AO3

#drarry #drarry squad #fwoosh writes

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the-house-of-the-nine · 5 years

Text

In Depths Below, Masquerade, Part 7

[Part 7, Just a warning that we’re getting to the violence, blood and reveals here. ]

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The sound of a slap coming across her face broke the conversation wide open. It even caused Marseille to blow their cover. Low and behold the second her face was slapped he knew. He had heard that tone many times before working in the servants lifestyle. He almost burst through the paper cover but Verzatea grabbed him to hold him back.

Though it was too late. The slap had caused silence and in that veil; his little shift and noise was all the Magister group had to hear in order to learn there was someone else there.

“What----was---that...” his golden eyes suddenly faded from their brilliance and the fel green that dwell beneath peered toward the little stand where the delicious cakes still sat. “Brightsong. . .”

The magister called upon would suddenly cast a spell of revealing against the little stand. And there the transparency of the paper showed them hiding behind the counter in full detail. There was nothing more they could do.

“Get out from behind there. . .show yourselves this instant!” Honeywell demanded as he stormed forward toward the stand.

At this point there was nothing more the pair could do but to crawl out from behind the counter. With hands raised upward and their disguises all but ruined, Verzatea and Marseille stood before the group of magisters. Marseille had calmly slipped the spoon into the spot where his tomahawk usually sat, unfortunately because of his apron and disguise, the weapon was missing.

“What were you doing. . .” Dawnseeker asked curiously. His fel green eyes calmly narrowed as he searched through the facial expressions of these stowaways.

“Well m’lord. . .you see, we got stuck in here when the crowd started to shuffle out, and rather than be rude we just felt. . .hiding was the best option to not disturb your meeting.”

Verzatea played the part of the innocent victim all too well, and her tone and fearful voice would simply scream truth to the untrained ear.

Dawnseeker had yet to demonstrate why it was that these people all seemed to fall in line behind him, but it was soon made clear when he waved his hand in her direction and the coiling essence that warped around the two of them suddenly squeezed. A fel green wrapping synched tightly and he would pull them toward the group.

“You are the owner of this little confectionery stand. . .” he said in the same horrid tone as before. The noose around them tightening while he inspected them.

“I am sir. . .lord. . .M’lord.” Verzatea stammered out as she nervously peered back toward him.

“You have heard certain things that. . .you should not have been privy to.” the look between the two as he spoke was insisting her had something in mind as to how he would deal with this.

“Certainly not. We have no idea what is going on with any of this and we have no interest in repeating anything.” she quickly tried to turn the tables so he could see they were in agreement.

Dawnseeker began to shake his head as he calmly moved away from the pairing of elves. His coiled fel wrapping still kept them in place and he would simply meander about thinking out loud.

“Well, there in lies the problem. . . if I leave it alone, I'm going to have to worry about you saying something to someone. . .and we just can’t have that.” he said as his feet slowly danced along the ballroom floor. “Can we?”

The collective group of magisters and their spouses would shake their heads and agree. They could not have that.

“And then comes the whole having to pay you off to silence you. . .which frankly I just dont have the energy to do. So. . .”

Dawnseeker raised his hand toward the pair of them. His power was fel based, clearly. He was a master of chaotic magics. The man who so proudly pontificated his pride for Silvermoon City; surrendered to the dark magics entirely. A ball of green energy focused against his palm while a skull shape began to emerge from the center.

“I am truly sorry, if it was not for your blatant stupidity. . . and overall incompetence this would not be happening right now.”

The magister pointed his palm flat toward Verzatea and Marseille who were still trapped in place by the green sizzling band. He narrowed his eyes and just as he was about to release the glowing ball, something loud broke the tension.

“No don’t!” Siida shouted in a scream just as she witnessed Magister Dawnseeker turn and fire the bolt of chaotic energy into the chest of the unsuspecting Honeywell.

The magister fell backward onto his rear as the green fel magic began to burrow through his chest cavity like a flesh eating disease. It bore a hole straight through and began to burn through his spinal cord and muscles. He was dead within seconds.

The rest of his group gasped and covered their mouths. They were completely aghast at what had just happened. The man whose house they all stood in right now was dead on the floor, still boiling and popping from the burning magic. Sennaris dare not move as she would not wish to incur his wrath further.

“You were saying?” Dawnseeker sneered as his sizzling hand lowered behind his vision. His burning eyes locked on Siida while the other hand tightened the grip he had on Verzatea and Marseille. They both let out a scream this time as the tension increased.

“Speak!”

“Alright! Please! Just don’t. . . not anymore. . .” Siida had raised her hands up. Watching the struggling partners she cared so deeply for; caught in the grasp of the effervescent vapors of his dark magic, she pleaded with wet eyes.

“Who---are--they...?” his voice was still as cold and horrid as ever. The crackling energy that bled from his fingers would drip onto the floor in pools of light green. “And speak the truth. . . I will know if you are lying. . .”

His glowing eyes peered back toward Magister Brightsong. The man was similar to Sennaris; save for the fact he could not manipulate the mind. But, he could cast a wave of energy over the collective. His ability would inflict a mentality of pure transparency. Similar to how he was able to show what was behind a solid object; it was true all the same for his ability to cause your truths to come to the surface.

Dawnseeker gave the signal and the other magister would begin to work his woven net of magic across the room, enveloping them all.

She felt odd. Almost as if something had melded with her mind. She went to speak but there was nothing. Only her eyes wide; purely cognizant of what had happened when the other magister cast his spell. She would attempt it again, but alas no words. Her thoughts were meant to deceive but she was unable.

“They are my friends. . .my family. . .” she whispered softly, loud enough for the room to pause and consider. She was unable to speak any deception. “Verzatea Duskflame. . . keeper of our family records and my brothers trusted advisor...”

“Siida. .. .” Verza spoke softly listening, trying to plead with her to stop. Though her voice was barely at half the volume of who she addressed due to the squeeze.

“A mentor of mine. She has taught me a great deal. The other is my brothers personal spy, his name is Marseille. He is Shal’dorei, the mask he wears is. . . fake. he haunts my dreams. . .” Siida opened her eyes widely and clamped her hands across her mouth.

Oh the light bit of laughter that suddenly overtook the group of magisters while they watched on. Dawnseeker continued to suspend her friends where they were; those dark eyes were still burning.

“Somebody get Honeywell out of here. . .” he said in a snide tone. His eyes alone spoke much deeper than his voice ever could.

For at that second he peered at Sennaris; the wise woman rightfully raced toward the body and began to drag it best she could from the room; leaving a trail of burned insides and blood across his polished stone floor. She would eagerly attempt to flee before her own cover was blown.

Thankfully she and Siida had shared a light glance that nobody happened to see. It was one of remorse; Sennaris was not about to abandon them but if she could slip out to Vari, there was a chance this could end. It was after all one part of the fall back. She left the four of them behind, hoping that if she could only make it outside the portcullis, that she could alert the rest.

“And what happens if we are made?” Vari stated while she padded across the room in her bare feet. She often removed her armor when she was in the comforts of The Bastille, especially in the drafting room. Or in this case; The Compellors hideaway.

“We will not have our cover blown unless someone speaks. I know these dossiers inside and out; my Mast. . .Lazarius had been sure to test me on everything in them.” Marseille stated firmly while watching the frozen queen move across her path.

“And there was no chance. . .” She hissed, her lich fire eyes locked on the glowing soft pink of his own. “You’re telling me, absolutely none, zero percent.”

Verzatea and Sennaris sat beside on another; it was clear they were not going to throw their hats in the ring.

“Zero.” he responded firmly. “The only person who will be recognized is Siida.”

Marseille softened his gaze; it was no secret that he did not enjoy harboring the idea of offering one of the only real friends he had as bait, but the plan was already set.

“I still don’t like this. . .” said the older sister.

“What choice have we Vari?” came the younger. “Even if the only thing we take away from this is that Lazarius is. . .”

“Don’t. . .you.” Vari turned and narrowed her vision at her younger sister. Granted they were not nearly as close and Lazarius and she, there was still that love she shared for her sister present, but her twin was by far a link she shared with no other.

“Even if. . . we will learn what we learn and get this. . .Dawnseeker.” she continued while watching Vari seeth. “It will be enough.”

“It will never be enough!” the frozen lich howled a chilling voice that rattled books from the shelves and seemed to come at them from every direction.

“Pyravari. . . I know that you are angered by the loss of what transpired here; truly know that it is not my intention to rob you of that grief. But for this plan to work, we need everyone to cooperate. Arguing will not bring him back to us, this. . . might.” Marseille calmly stated after the silence of her howl waned.

There was silence for a moment. Yes there was conflict in the air; the entire group of them were on edge. They’d been at this plan for nearly a week straight to this point. And the time to debate and try and find alternative routes had passed. Sennaris had already met with Honeywell and the invitations sent. The entire structure of the plan was in motion; if they backed away or changed anything, it would collapse.

“R-right. . .yes.” the voice of The Harbinger said softly.

She had peered toward the pale old elf as he spoke; seeing there was nothing but determination on his face, and honest in his voice made her reason with her anger. She nodded, taking a seat beside her love; and Koltun placed a fiendish claw against her frozen hand. He also knew the pain that was manifesting here. Lazarius was like a brother to him as well.

“Please. . .continue.” she added after feeling the touch from the demon beside her.

Marseille nodded his head and motioned toward Sennaris and Zalra.

“There is always a chance that something could be turned upside down. We don’t know how the night is going to play out. The main goal should be that if something does end up turning in their favor; we regroup, and get word to everyone.”

He extended a withered gloved hand; its slender finger pointing toward the two women.

“Sennaris and Zalra have the best chance to relay information should we need to get word from inside. . .to out. Disguised as a Lady of the hosting house; you should be able to go where you please, Azurestar.”

Zalra would remain silent; She just nodded understanding fully what needed to be done.

“If something goes wrong outside, the house will go into lock down. We can adapt. The key at that point is to handle Dawnseeker at all cost. But it is imperative that anything that constitutes a breech in our safety inside, needs to be made known to those of us who are free to move on the grounds.”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement. Eyes would pass from one person to the next, looks of determination, confidence. It was a key to their survival if things did in fact go south.

“And that is-th why Operation: Mus-thic Box is-th our fall back plan!” squealed the little voice of the gnomish doctor sitting on the outside edge of the table.

Brox Sulfin sat beside him and groaned, the miserable Dark Iron dwarf puffing away on his pipe while billowing out clouds of smoke, he shook his head hearing the gnome speak. The pair had just recently returned from their long and painful trip to Searing Gorge, and were eager to aid however they could. Sadly though, Brox did have to return to Stormwind; lest the internal structure of their business there suffer further.

“Only if and when. . . if it should it be required, Operation. . “ Marseille said as he begrudgingly paused hearing the name inside his own head.

“Mus-thic Box!” the little gnome added so as to help complete the sentence.

Marseille sighed with an utterly large lump in his throat as the ridiculous name was heard.

“Yes. . .that.” he added shortly after. “Then we should all consider that as the point of no return. Should we require Doctor Whistletorque and his. . . marvelous contraptions. It will be from a position of desperation, and we will be unable to turn back.”

“The illustrious Lazarius Kash’ebahl and his little network of accomplices. How typical that I was the one that had to weed out this filthy garden simply because some incompetent fool was too lazy to realize that we had an infestation.” seethed the Magister.

To be continued... In Depths Below:Masquerade,Part 8

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lissamems · 7 years

Text

Shalnark’s origin story (and a little bit of the Kurta Shal theory

(I’ve never actually posted a fic before and am terrified. Excited though! Enjoy!)

There is a certain rhythm that experienced gamers fall into. One of the most obvious rules is the necessity of saving your game, of setting yourself up in case of failure so you can start again instantly, an undeniable fresh start. Anyone who had spent more than five minutes online knew that rule and Shalnark was no exception. If there was any upcoming danger, any uncertainty or unpredictability, you had to prepare, you had to set yourself up to bounce back from disaster.

Of course, it wasn’t like Shalnark had to apply that rule to his daily life. He was a teen with an overbearing mother, but nothing more painful or irritating than that. While other children may have complained if their mother constantly panicked and forced them indoors, Shal could hardly care less. Whenever Katiya had one of her “moments”, her son just shrugged and grabbed his Gameboy. Reality was more boring than fantasy after all, and at least in his games he did not have to deal with a woman who once had a panic attack over her son attempting to invite friends home.

They lived in a small apartment near Denlon, in a neighborhood far enough away from the city to be considered suburbs but too shoddy and poor to ever be known by that name. The furniture was purchased secondhand, online, and picked up in a fashion similar to drug drops, since Katiya was incurably paranoid whenever people were concerned. One of the only perks of their home was the incredible internet service, which Shalnark utilized as much as he could.

Katiya considered her son’s online hobbies to be entirely harmless… no digital world could be half as dangerous as the real one in her eyes. Of course, she had no idea of the online friends he was attracting.

Bright people do not go unnoticed and that was true even in online forums and chatrooms. Shalnark did enjoy his RPG’s and multiplayer quests, but there was something supremely satisfying in actually communicating with people who did not spend hours trying to convince him that emotions were “toxic and dangerous”. He was especially fascinated with Hunters, but even that took a backseat to the Phantom Troupe.

He knew about as much as everyone else did, mainly that the Troupe was a group of thieves who stopped at nothing to take what they wanted. The internet was cluttered with theories regarding the Spiders, and they even had actual fanbases. While some dismissed them as senseless murderers, Shalnark saw in them a potential he could not coherently describe.

The strong took what the strong craved. It was only recent times that decided to prioritize the weak over the useful, which left the world with so many… nothings. It was like the world was cluttered with extras, while only a set few stood out and mattered.

Shalnark was still not entirely sure whether he was one of those few.

“Shalnark?” Katiya slipped in the front door and shut it instantly behind her, her voice rising in completely unnecessary worry. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“That’s entirely unnecessary.” She pulled her hair nervously, one hand tugging on her blond hair while the other adjusted the sunglasses she never took off. She walked over to the kitchen to pat her son’s shoulder (Shal nonchalantly closed the browser he was theorizing with strangers about the Troupe on and opened a more harmless RPG as she did so).

“How was work?” Shal said brightly, then laughed. He had no idea what his mother even did for a living and asking about it had never gotten him anything but long lectures about how anger was dangerous, because those two things were obviously connected.

She hummed in answer to that and walked away. As soon as she did so, Shalnark reopened the tab on the Troupe in time to see a new message pop up on his board.

“Why do you think the Troupe is incomplete?”

It was in response to a previous comment that Shal had made during a discussion of whether or not the Troupe was attempting to stage a coup in Padokia. It was a laughable conspiracy theory, but Shal could not resist throwing in his opinion (something about how only idiots would think a partially complete group of thieves would have any interest in getting involved in government).

He opened a chatroom with the user (called HellofHeaven) and responded quickly, “One of the notes they left behind when they robbed that Gorteau warlord had a twelve-legged spider drawn on it and it’s my theory that each of the legs refer to a member. Since the current count seems to be around ten, I’d guess there are at least two more spots.”

He hardly had to wait before the response alert pinged on his screen. “And are you hoping to be one of those members?”

Shalnark laughed out loud and that, drawing a look from Katiya. “One of the NPC’s made a joke. Go back to your book, Mama.”

He typed back, still chuckling. “I read a firsthand account from one of the police authorities after the Gorteau incident that estimated that one of the members was over seven feet tall and strong enough to rip steel doors off their hinges. I doubt a computer nerd would fit in with people like that.”

Another user ( this one named BladeEnhancer) joined the chatroom. “I bet the big guy’s an idiot thouh.”

A third user (threadsandstitches) joined the group, just to drop in one comment and then leave. “Brave words from a man who can’t spell and whose username sounds like a dick joke.”

Shalnark couldn’t help but laugh when he saw BladeEnhancer change his name to IaidoMaster.

HellofHeaven responded after a brief pause, “You have access to police records?”

“The police have terrible firewalls on their sites, it’s basically a joke.”

“Where do you think they’ll strike next?”

Shalnark sat back in his chair, feeling an odd and indescribable sense of opportunity, “I don’t have any idea where they will go next, but I have an idea on where they should go. A museum in Denlon is shutting down, so all of their treasures are getting separated and sold off at the end of this month. Security is at an all-time high while all of the items are getting divvied up and there will never be another chance to get all of those riches.”

No one answered in the thread for a solid ten minutes. Shalnark was just beginning to doubt that anyone was going to respond when HellofHeaven added a final question, “Why would the Troupe go after such heavily guarded treasure?”

There was no hesitating in Shal’s answer now, “Isn’t all that danger the point?”

The only response was a notice from the message board, “HellofHeaven has left the chat.”

_ _ _ _ _

Shalnark could not help but be the slightest bit hopeful as the last day of the month began to end. Though there was no way to accurately pinpoint the Troupe’s targets, he did hope that his intuition would be correct. And as it did so, he began to tire of waiting.

Katiya seemed to sense his growing restlessness and only served to fuel it. “Where are you hoping to go? You have no idea on what this world is like, you have no idea the people that search for us….”

Shalnark had listened to his mother’s ravings about “the people” who were after them, but as far as he could tell it was just a figment of her paranoia, one likely fueled by her little drug habit.

“If you knew, Shalnark, you would thank me.”

“Knew what?” Shal did not even look up from his computer, already bored with the conversation.

Katiya turned away impatiently, waving a shaking hand dismissively.

“Maybe I’ll get to meet these people when I leave tonight.” The words were spoken in his usual bright and cheerful voice, so smoothly delivered that it took a moment for the impact of his declaration to hit Katiya.

“You what?” She spun back around and strode across the living room, slamming the laptop closed. “What are you thinking? What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Shalnark, Shalnark.” Katiya grabbed her son’s shoulders and pulled him to his feet, staring him in the eyes (or at least he supposed she did, hers were still obscured by those sunglasses after all). “You can’t. You don’t know the world, not like I do.”

Shalnark sighed, looking for all the world like the typical teenager. “Then I’ll get to meet it.”

He strode away from her, graceful and confident, while she stumbled after him, still addled by drugs. As she made a final grab for Shal, she stumbled the slightest bit, causing her glasses to fall to the floor. Shalnark had always assumed his mother’s eyes to be the same color as his own, but as he met his mother’s eyes all he saw was a blazing, flaming red.

Kurta, thought Shal, not so much shocked as curious. Oh, that makes sense.

A reclusive clan of people, all in hiding due to the fact their eyes (which turned red in times of distress) were among the most prized treasures of the world. They all lived in seclusion, in a hidden city (or village, numbers on the people seemed to vary) and none had ever seen them.

“Emotions are dangerous, Shalnark,” he remembered his mother telling him. “Never, ever let them take a foothold in your life.”

For whatever reason, his mother had left the Kurta’s but retained (or maybe enhanced) their protectiveness. Her eyes (her Scarlet eyes) widened with horror as her son saw for the first time who she really was.

“I’ll make scarier friends than whoever you are afraid of, Mama.” Not entirely sure why, he patted his mother’s shoulder in comfort. “Just in case any Kurta enemies come after me.”

She held onto his hand, her grip tightening, “No! The Kurta’s are the ones I’m afraid of!”

“Then it shouldn’t be hard to make friends scarier than a reclusive clan.” With none of his belongings, no trinkets to remember his life, he left to open the door. “Goodbye, Mama.”

_ _ _ _ _

The nightlife in Denlon was interesting, far more captivating than he had been anticipating. The plan was to watch over the Denlonian museum (just in case), but he kept catching himself wandering off, drawn in by the lights and the people like a moth to flame.

He did not feel particularly guilty about leaving his mother. She had cared for him and raised him, but she also hid and neglected him. The relationship was no longer beneficial, so the reasonable (and honestly, humane) action was to leave. Maybe she would be able to begin to live a life not entirely consumed with fear or maybe not. If Shal had stayed with her, he would have stayed an extra, just decoration in the background while the real players lived.

He arrived at the museum right after the sun had set, just as the police cars began to gather like flies. He was pleased to see he had not overestimated the level of protectiveness that the museum pieces warranted and climbed one of the buildings nearby to perch on the roof and watch all of the lights gather around him.

He knew it was a tremendous gamble to assume that the Troupe would gather here. He assumed they would, simply because he knew of their love for danger (and thievery). Logically, this was an excellent target for them. But there remained a distinct possibility that they were on the complete other side of the world.

He leaned back against the curved roof, closing his eyes. If the Spiders came, he doubted they’d arrive quietly so he could just relax until then. He listened to the orders of the police officers below him, the traffic beneath him… and the unmistakable cocking of a gun not too far from his head.

His eyes flew open to see a woman standing across from him, inches from the edge of the roof but obviously unconcerned with any potential danger there. She was taller than him, dressed neatly and smartly in a business suit that would have likely fit in better at a law firm than the roof of a hotel (holding a gun) but Shal doubted that comment would get him anywhere. She was blond, with a long nose and brown eyes currently fixed coldly on him.

She also had a gun and though that had already been noted by Shal, he felt it was worth mentioning more than twice.

Of all of the feelings being held at gunpoint should have brought out in Shal, the strongest was annoyance. He had not staked out this spot to maybe see the Troupe only to be shot before he could even get a confirmed sighting.

“Who are you?” Interestingly enough, Shal had been the one to ask that question first. It took the woman by surprise, but you could only tell that by the slight widening of her eyes.

Laughter arose from the question, but it wasn’t from Shalnark or the woman. He turned in time to see another person on the roof, this one a deceptively lovely man with black hair parted over a cross tattoo on his forehead. He seemed genuinely amused at Shal and waved the woman off, “Go, Pakunoda. I can handle this.”

With nothing more than a final curious glance at Shalnark, Pakunoda nodded to the newcomer. “Got it.” Then, as casually as if she were stepping off of a step, she walked off of the roof.

Shal just stared at the spot where she had jumped off. “Did you just convince that woman to kill herself?”

The man laughed again, sitting next to Shalnark as if they were old friends. “She can handle that little jump.” He held out a hand to Shal. “I presume you are BlackVoice?”

Shal jumped a bit in response to hearing his username. Then he laughed with sheer delight. “Are you HellfromHeaven?”

The two shook hands, both grinning. The dark-haired man then led Shal to the edge, where the blonde woman had leapt off. The duo looked down in time to see two figures charging the police, causing more damage than tanks. One was a small figure darting around so fast it was nearly impossible to track him with his eyes, whereas the other was a huge, hulking man who just aimed his hands at the security force, impossibly firing countless bullets from them.

“You’re the Troupe.” Shal shouted a laugh, as enchanted as a child receiving a birthday present. “I was right!”

“In a way.” The tattooed man sat on the edge and gestured for Shalnark to do the same. “You gave us the idea for this heist, so thank you for that.”

Shal could not take his eyes off of the battle far beneath them. More figures had entered the fray, but the most noticeable by far was a beast of a man preparing to charge. Shal recognized him as the man described in the police report, impossibly tall and muscled and… well, savage.

The man roared in preparation for his battle, but the tattoed man beside Shal just exhaled impatiently. He leaned over the edge and shouted down at the now running man. “Uvogin, no! Come here!”

Another roar, this one with far less excitement, and the man came to a stop. His abrupt stop actually caused a slight trench in the asphalt and he looked up at the two men in irritation. Then he crouched a bit and jumped.

Shal followed the tattooed man’s lead and did not flinch at all as the giant leapt the entire height of the hotel and landed next to them, causing a slight indent in the roof.

Up close, he was even more terrifying. He had rough features and wild black hair, but brown eyes with a mixture of animalistic drive and childish glee in them. He looked Shal over, almost suspiciously, then turned to the dark-haired man. “What did I do, Danchou?”

“Didn’t I already tell you that you were not to participate in tonight’s job?” He looked back to Shal. “Fights are not allowed between members and Uvogin started a rather brutal one earlier today.”

“Phinks is fine now and Machi was the one who instigated it.” Uvogin crossed his arms, a look distinctly reminiscent of a pout on his face. “Yet she is never the one that gets punishments.”

Danchou rolled his eyes at that and turned his attention back on Shalnark. “Would you like to join us as a member of the Troupe?”

His question was as casual as if he were requesting Shal’s presence at some meeting. Shal could do no more than blink in surprise (Uvogin was far less subtle about it and snorted at his boss’s words) and Danchou explained himself more. “You are obviously brilliant with computers and just reading your comments online have made it more than clear you have a gift for strategy. We need more people of your intellect.”

“Oh, wait. Is he the one who let us know about this job?” Uvogin studied Shal with new eyes. “Thanks for the tip.” His voice dropped back into more sulky tones. “I’m sure it would have been a great fight to get those treasures.”

Both Danchou and Shal laughed at that and Uvo sat down next to them, his long legs stretching off of the roof much farther than the other two. “I’m Uvogin. This is Chrollo.” He reached across Chrollo to extend a hand roughly the size of a baseball mitt at Shalnark.

His skin was almost uncomfortably hot, but Shal squeezed back unhesitatingly even though his own strength was completely dwarfed by Uvogin’s. “I’m Shalnark. And the answer is yes.”

He had just enough time to see Chrollo shrug apologetically when Uvogin yanked him off of the roof, swinging him so that for a brief second he hung in the air, nothing under him but hundreds of feet of empty air and the occasional bullet. Then he landed back on the other side of Uvo, collapsed in a heap and… laughing?

He had the oddest sense that he had just passed his first test in the Troupe as the two men smiled at his laughter, Chrollo’s smirk tinged with the smallest amount of pride. “Are you ready to leave with us tonight, Shalnark?”

Shal stood back up and stared down at the fight (now more accurately described as a massacre) far below them. All of the security and police were cluttered together, as drab and pointless as background compared to the vibrant and deadly Spiders surrounding them. Players, these Spiders were actual players within the grand scheme of the world and he stood at the brink of accepting to become one of them. Death and ecstasy, savagery and comradery all swirled together in his new future and Shalnark beamed to meet it. “Of course I am.”

#my writing #hxh #phantom troupe #shalnark #kurta shal theory #origin story

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icharchivist · 7 years

Text

Sooo here we go another hxh seance!

(again, Her = A., Him=T.)

We watched from Colt’s birth to the King’s birth, we stopped mid episode on that latter.

-They definitly find the CA arc far more intense so far, and consider it already went downhill. I quote “Children are dead, the queen is losing control over her soldiers, the soldiers are losing control between each other, Ponzu and Pokkle seems to handle the situation so far but it won’t seem to last, and on Kite’s side they are doomed to go downhill because Gon is with them”

-They are still thrown out that none of the other three (Kurapika, Leorio and Hisoka) are in there. They think Hisoka would have fun being part of his own, while they actively argue that Leorio would be the only one with common sense and with some survival instict he could help the other with.

-A. Wants a showdown between the Ants and the Troupe and T. wants a showdown between the Zoldyck and the Ants.

-When it comes to the Troupe i find absolutly hilarious that they barely remember their names but remember Feitan, Chrollo, Machi and Shal at least. Nobunaga is also one of the name they remember but they keep stumbling on it. Meanwhile, I mentioned Phinks at some point and A. didn’t remember who I meant so i said “the guy Kurapika hang off the phone to” and she was “aahhhhh yes, his real impact on the serie.”

-They want Hisoka to show up, just because at least, there’s worse than him in front of them, and regardless of who gets hit, you will cheer anyway. They argue Hisoka’s only quality is that at least he’s the only one to be like himself.

-They called Kite “Legolass” or “The Guitarist” during the full episodes. They love his weapon system.

-They were really grossed out by the ants we met in NGL.. They are cheering to see the Koala again.

-*when Gyro’s backstory started* “Gyro killed his dad.” A: “Well that was completely for free *the backstory happens* A: “ye nah he deserved itn is hxh having a contest for who is the worst dad?”

-They expect Gyro to come back and play a bigger role later.

-When Killua, Kite and Gon fought against the ants from the Lion’s team, Gon’s way to destroy the ant had A. go “this kid scares me”.

-As Pitou appears: “wait so Killua with Cat Ears is an actual character and a villain?”

-They were disgusted by Ponzu and Pokkle’s death. A. especially dislike when you kill couple, so she was upset. They found it really terrible

-When Pitou attacked Kite, they were horrified, but they cheered on Killua’s reaction, they considered it was best to do this this way.

-They were really glad Gon was asleep when Morel started talking to Killua about what they should have done, as they think it would be the kind of things to encourage Gon on a bad path

-When Gon woke up after the Kite attack and immediatly thanked Killua, T. jokingly said “but no homo”. But as the scene kept going, when Killua started to look at Gon the way he does, they went “oh.... he has it bad....” and as soon as he started the “You are Light” sequence, A. actually stood up and grabbed T.’s arm as she went “oh no this is ways too cute!!” T: “Killua is actually in love there oh my god” A: “So this is serious Killua is!! really in love!!” They are not exactly the shipper style, they don’t make shippy comments a lot, and a few times before, they did comment on how Killua looking at Gon was sweet, or how some scenes were really sweet between them and joked a little about it. But there, they were reacting really seriously to the scene, and A. even confirmed “Here I completely see what everyone is talking about when they say Killua is in love with Gon”. I’m s o g la d

-They are not sure if Kite is really dead or no, but they are worried of Gon’s reaction if he comes to learn about it considering how determined he is to save him.

-They are glad Bisky is back!

-They don’t really know what to think of Palm yet, she scares them. They find it neat though that she’s supposed to be an ally while her design is frightening and that say, Hirn, the girl staying at Hyaga’s side, looks super cute while she’s an enemy.

-But they fell in love for Knuckle when he started to cry when Gon and Killua went to fight them, and when they saw all the dogs around him.

-Meanwhile the first reaction while seeing Shoot was from A: “He has no eyebrow.....”. They laughed when they realized he was scared to fight the kids but were feeling pity for him. Meanwhile his power kinda scares them.

-Before the fight against Knuckle, there was a huge conversation about “how can you guess when you put 50% of your strength in your blow, how can you be sure you didn’t put 70% or something”. Once Knuckle’s power was revealed, they couldn’t stop laughing.

-When Shaiapouf appeared, T. went “oh but he’s pretty though, like, he’s kinda cute.” while A. went “this is going to be so troublesome” and I still laugh about it.

-They are really glad to see Netero fight. They say Morel’s fighting is to Smoke Weed while Knov’s is basically Portal.

-They consider Killua to be the most rational when it comes to fighting, but Bisky’s lessons about it made them a little reconsider, and they worry a lot for Killua since then. A. made notice tho that she had the same mindset as Killua when it comes to his reasoning in case of trouble.

-They find Bisky’s way to encourage him understandable but not appropriated and it would just hurt Killua more. When he reacted to Bisky’s “you’ll let Gon die”, T. went “Look at his face it’s too painful for him to hear”

-Also when it comes to Killua’s mental health, A. is getting more and more worried because she realizes what Killua is going through but he never adresses it, and so now, it makes sense it’s adressed, but since he keeps it quiet it makes it even more painful to see.

-The King appeared finally and A. Freaked out because she sees my blog and was sure he was an ally or a good guy, so she seriously didn’t expect him to be a villain, and even less to just kill his owns in the begining. Peggy’s design and the Turtle’s design had been cracking them up since the begining of the arc, so seeing the two of them die horribly had them yell a “oh no!”

-”Please stop killing children why is that happening”

-They thing that there will be a King’s supporter group and a Queen’s supporter group, but we only reached to the moment Colt came to ask for help, and they were just starting to realize a lot of the ants were ready to leave and create their own kingdom.

-We didn’t watch the end of the fights against Shoot and Knuckle yet. A. is hoping Gon won’t pass because she’s scared of what awaits them in NGL.

So as a conclusion, they liked it but are kinda grossed out by the events. They like the new characters for the most part and they still have a lot to see.

We reached up to episode 91, which is so impressive considering they didn’t want to start the serie at first because they thought it was too long and they weren’t used to get into long series like that; But they enjoy watching it.

They are REALLY missing Leorio though and they often bring him up as for how he would probably make sense of the situations at hand in a way that wouldn’t put anyone in danger, and I love them when they do that, I love how much faith they have into Leorio.

So ye that was neat o/

We’ll see more laaatterrr

#ichablogging hxh2011 #ichatalks about hxh

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shalnarkonice · 8 years

Text

Nobuvoshal week jan 11/ day 6. prompt: Letting go or cliches (about love)

Something was wrong.

Like the sound of nails trailing over a chalkboard, or like the grit of teeth on a peice of metal, or like the way a shoelace felt when it was tucked up against a foot, or even like the sight of plants drowning out in the rain, something was wrong.

Whatever it was, it didn’t have a name, or a smell, or a taste. Shal realized that he couldn’t hold whatever felt off, nor was he able to tell uvogin about whatever was bothering him. he couldn’t place the feeling, but it made him feel almost a little sceptic, as if he was being torn away like a bandaid, or left like a peice of wet cloth out to dry.

Perhaps the term he was looking for was disposable, he realized.

It wasn’t a comforting thought, seeing how shal had spent years feeling as if he had meant nothing to no one, especially seeing how his family had only wanted to use him as a figurehead. even then, he wasn’t considered to be worthy because half of his blood had been from a yorknew escort.

Ironically, no kurta dared to insult shals father, despite having been part of the reason he had a bastard son, while his second child pairo was full kurta.

regardless of the implications, shal knew full heartedly what it was like to be left behind, and right now he felt that way. a part of him almost dared to ask uvo if he felt the same, seeing how the man had been uneasy for quite some time.

part of the reason, or actually most of it, was caused by nobunaga. something had changed with the oldest member of the trio, seeing how had had been off putting and bitter as of late, without his usual gusto for more lively experiences. it almost appeared that nobunaga had been experiencing his own difficulties, although shal couldn’t guess for the life of him of what they were.

Nobunaga was currently in his room, where he had been for the last week, only slipping out to work or prepare himself a meal before isolating himself once again. seeing how Nobunaga was one who was to always inhabit the dining room, even when there was no one around, it was difficult to process why nobunaga had the sudden change of heart. shal had thought it had been his fault for trying to bait nobunaga into playful arguments, realizing earlier on that nobunaga reacted violently to almost all cases and that talking to the man wasn’t worth the effort.

Uvogin had noticed the change too, seeing how he often came to shal with a look of a lost child, confused and feeling partially upset at nobunagas stubborness.

“Give him time.” Shal had suggested, hoping that whatever was going on with nobunaga would leave by the oncoming week.

Quite frankly, it didn’t, and whatever damp mood had dug it’s claws into nobunaga was here to stay, and shal was at the point where confrontation was the only thing he could think of doing.

“We can’t just barge into his room shal, you know how he is.” Uvo sighs, shifting heavily from on the couch, just waiting for a good reason to jump up and bolt in there.

“he’s ignoring us.” shal barks out, having spun around from the computer chair in the main room, turning to face uvogin. “and I can understand why he’d ignore me, but I can’t even begin to comprehend why he would ignore you.”

“maybe he’s sick?” Uvo asks, “although, he’s still going out every other night with that bartender owl, or those zodiac people, or that girl he’s interested in…or razor and ging…”

“he’s ignoring us.” shal says slowly, “what did we do wrong this time?” annoyance mingles with his words, and shal can’t even convince himself that he doesn’t sound petty.

“did he fight with klin again?” Uvo ponders

“I’ve been taking all of Klins calls. nobunaga won’t even touch the phone anymore. ”

“You think he’s mad that I made his face the icon for my bowling team the Nagas?” Uvo purses his lips, “although that was kind of hilarious, the guys cracked up when I showed them.

clicking at the mouse, shal ignores uvogins musing, having tried to find answers to this phenomena online, only to realize that someone had been on looking for one person apartments in the area to buy.

“aw come on shal, it’s funny!” Uvo chuckles, “you should come see us play one night”

whipping his head around, shal gives uvo an unusually pointed glare, “was it you looking for a new apartment?”

“an apartment? me?”

Shal points at the screen, “come here and see for yourself. I’m almost one hundred percent sure it’s nobunaga who’s been looking for places. look how many sites he’s been on, the technologically inept fool didn’t even delete his browsing history.”

Uvogin gets up and walks over, “Why would nobunaga need to find a one person apartment if we live here? sure it’s a little cramped sometimes, but we spend most of the time outside or even going to work. nobu wouldn’t just leave us without having said anything.”

Shal leans back in his chair and glances up at Uvo, who was frowning as his eyes bore into the screen. one of uvogins hands move to clutch at the back of the chair, and shal slowly stands up. it was clear that nobunaga had been planning on dissapearing, which may have been the whole sense of unease that shal had felt for the past few weeks. the fact that he and nobunaga hadn’t been able to have a proper conversation for weeks might have been one of the biggest signs.

grabbing uvo’s hand, shal squeezes it in an attempt to comfort him. “let’s ask nobunaga about it before we get angry. maybe he has a reason. maybe it’s for a friend.”

Uvogin squeezes shals hand back, and offers a rusty smile, “thanks for trying to make it easier, but we both know that nobunaga did that for himself.”

Shal nods and watches as uvogin crosses the room and knocks on nobunagas door, waiting a moment and getting nothing. with an open palm, uvo slams it down, his patience running thin. “Nobu either you open this door or I break it down. I’m gonna give you three seconds. one. two…” Uvogin hesitates, “Alright, I’m coming in.”

The door opens with a click and nobunaga pulls it open, a bemused look on his face, “don’t break the door, I don’t feel like replacing it.”

Peering over the mans head, uvogin gets a quick glance into nobunagas room, seeing nobus tablet paused on an old episode from one of their previous flower competitions, as well as a plug in kettle sitting on one of the counters in his room, steam still billowing out.

“Is this what you’ve been doing while you’ve been ignoring me and shal? keeping yourself locked up like a hermit.”

Nobu yawns and moves to close the door, “sure. anything else or can I go?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Uvo growls, stopping the door from being closed when Nobunaga attempts to pull it shut.

“there’s nothing wrong with me, other than you yelling in my damn face.” nobu snaps, “happy?”

Shal purses his lips and moves towards the two, “nobunaga are you planning on moving out? we saw the apartments, why would you keep the a secret? actually, if anything, why have you been avoiding us for three weeks straight. you didn’t think we’d notice the fact that you no longer sit with us for dinner other then when we already catch you eating by yourself? or maybe the fact that every time me or uvo walk into the room you go instantly to yours, or make an excuse to leave?”

“I haven’t done any of that,” Nobunaga scowls, “im going out for a smoke.” He grunts as he walks back into his room, shutting off the tablet, the kettle, and grabbing his cigarettes.

“look you’re doing it again!” shal almost feels ridiculous at pointing out the obvious. “youre not even staying long enough to hear out the rest of this conversation. you’re just running away!”

Uvo crosses his arms as he boxes the doorway, trapping nobunaga in the room, “did we do something to upset you? the fuck nobu? we go from chatting like normal to suddenly feeling like strangers in our own house.”

Nobunaga pauses and runs a hand through his long locks, “sometimes I think it’s better that way,” he mumbles, before standing tall and facing the two, “maybe this is the end of us. and the end of tree and shrub. I think we’re burnt out uvo; we should stop doing this.”

Shal is the first one to gawk, completly baffled by the selfishness of nobunagas words. he couldn’t even imagine how uvogin was feeling, being told by someone who he considered to be a brother that they should cut their losses and head their own ways in life.

“Nobu….what are you…?” Uvogin tries to wrap his head around the statement, finding it difficult to believe.

Nobunaga pulls a cigarette from the pack and places it loosely in his mouth, “Uvogin, I’m letting you go.”

A bitterness in the throat, shal finds that the words are downright degrading, considering how much the three had gone through, to throw it away on the basis of nothing was absolutely ridiculous.

Uvogin shakes his head, breaking the silence. “letting me go? and where the fuck am I going, nobunaga?”

“I’m leaving, so you don’t have to worry about it or me anymore. you don’t need to worry about tree and shrub.” nobu bites into the stick, “it’s time to call the quits.”

“if you don’t start explaining yourself right now I’m gonna punch you, and I’m not sure how hard it’s gonna be.” Uvo snaps, raising a balled up fist. “is that fucker hisoka coming after you again? was it something to do with feitan or phinks because I’ll kill them if I have to. don’t tell me the zodiacs are relocating you for something, what the hell is going on nobu! you don’t just throw away a thirty year friendship because you don’t feel like it. it doesn’t work like that and you owe it to me, and shal, to a say it to our faces!”

Nobunaga spits out the cigarette and steps forward, his eyes narrowed, “you persistent fucking asshole. that’s exactly the reason why I’m leaving! because i have to say it to your faces, and not just you, uvo! don’t you see what’s happened?” He points at shal, “you’ve become an item! whenever you say our it’s no longer nobu and Uvo, but Uvo and shal. and before you fucking say I’m jealous, I am damn sure I’m not, but I’m tired uvogin. I’m tired of being a third wheel on your happy love story while you two drag me after you day after day.”

Shals lips press together tightly. never had he thought that nobunaga would react so violently to their accommodations, seeing how he had always seen nobu as very passive when it came to all things regarding uvogin.

“One time we use to be uvo, shal, and nobu. But now, now everyone just sees us as uvoshal and that other guy nobunaga.” nobu rubs his eyes tiredly, “and there’s nothing wrong with that, which pisses me off. you’re supposed to find happiness in life, and if you found it with the twunk then I’m glad, but I can’t keep tagging along on your story uvogin. you took me under your wing as a kid, and have been looking out for me ever since my father died. it’s time we break apart.”

Uvo reaches out to grab nobu, only to have his hand slapped away. “who put these thoughts in your head?” Uvo snarls.

Shal leans heavily against the door frame, a laugh bubbling from inside of him as he looks directly at Nobunaga, “this is a joke right? this is probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever said nobu. you being a third wheel? to me and uvogin? if anyone has been tagging along its been me, the bringer of bad luck on your friendship. it’s always been uvogin and nobunaga; tree and shrub. you two don’t see it, but people would kill for a relationship like yours. a friend who you can put your whole trust and faith into? someone you’d consider close enough as family? I wish I had someone like that in my life! it’s always been you and uvogin! haven’t you realized that people are drawn to the both of you? everywhere people know you as the duo and I’m the tag along, so if anyone should leave, it should be me.”

Nobu whirls around and grabs shals shirt, “You’re not going anywhere, I’m leaving! that’s the whole point you idiot! so you and Uvo can actually be together without me being here!”

“nobunaga, shal and I are still together even if you’re here or not,” Uvogin says softly, “and you’re still my brother even if shals around. there’s never been a problem, especially not with the three of us. and if it’s anything, I always feel like I’m the one following you two, because you’re both so damn stubborn someone needs to make sure to catch you if you fall. just because I love you two differently, doesn’t mean you’re not both important to me, you sappy bastards”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day.” nobu grumbles, embaressed by uvogins words.

“I agree.” shal sighs, feeling uvo’s arms tug the two into an unwilling hug

“I told you to stop doing this!” Nobu groans, trying to tug away

“Uvo, let go!” shal whines, both he and Nobu being squished up against uvogins chest in his version of a hug.

Laughing at the two, uvogin tugs them into the living room, “say you’re both staying or I’m not letting go!”

“Uvo for fucks sakes!” Nobu yells

“say it!”

Shal gives up and taps uvo’s arm, “Alright I’ll stay, I’ll stay.

After a few seconds, nobunaga sulks and does the same, “fine…I won’t go anywhere, as long as you’re glad to have me.”

Uvogin releases them and grins brightly, “you idiot, even if you were to leave id follow you anyways, just like always.”

for the first time in weeks, shal finally felt that everything was in perfect alignment.

#hxh #nobu #uvo #shal #last one

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lchiryu · 8 years

Text

Everyone declared guilty deserves their punishment- it is our job to expose the truth behind every case, no matter what the outcome. Words of his mentor would ring clear in his mind as the brunette stood tall in all of his court cases. Over the past few months he had become a very confident young man who had only learned under the most intelligent man- one that didn’t end up making him so corrupt like so many were in these days of the law.

‘ Your Honor, there is one thing that I do believe has not been brought up yet in this case. ‘ The voice of the defense attorney rung smooth && professional, his eyes glancing up from the autopsy report he had been given from the defense early on in the case to make eye contact with the Judge. ‘And that would be what, Mister Faust? ‘ As the defense && the judge began to make conversation was the prosecution practically unaware of the mistake they made-though that sick grin that crossed the attorney’s lips as he finally spoke up casually, rather than making an objection this time. Hands clenched tighter against his baton, keeping his breathing steady. There was....surely nothing to worry about. If the defense had noticed something off he surely would be able to raise an objection of his own to prove him wrong. ‘ It says right here that the victim, Miss Amanda Ray was killed by a stab wound found three inches in her back, however.. ‘ Lowering the document did his eyes soon lock onto the prosecution’s, staring him dead in the eyes. Sebastian froze slightly in fear, teeth biting down gently on his bottom lip, as if he knew what was going to be said next. He could see that grin of the defense’s grow wider as the words continued to pour from his mouth. ‘ During my investigation I found no knife at the crime scene that was either stained with the victims blood, or even coated in my client’s fingerprints. In fact, no sightings of the murder weapon could be found at all. ‘ This is where Sebastian found his chest tightening up, eyes watering slowly as he tried his hardest to prevent any waterfalls to pour from his eyelids. ‘Ahem. ‘ The Judge’s voice cleared, banging down his gavel to cease the whispering from the gallery. ‘ The defense brings up quite a good point, ‘ Eyes turned down to the prosecution, ‘ Prosecutor Debeste, you have failed to present any evidence of the murder weapon, it would be wise to do so now. ‘ ‘ R...Right...! Of course, Your Honor!! ‘ His voice cracked, heart skipping a beat as he fumbled through the evidence he had gathered- it had to be here somewhere...he defiantly recalls finding the murder weapon at the scene of the crime before the defense could even have any chance of investigating the same scene. He was already flustered enough from this case alone, the judge not being one he was too familiar with && of course wasn’t Courtney. He hadn’t had anyone by his side at the Prosecutor’s bench to assist him && here he was, lost as his mind raced a mile a minute trying to find that one piece of evidence. ‘ Perhaps while we wait for the Prosecution to find this piece of evidence shal we take a brief ten minute recess. ‘ Ten would be enough...he was generous enough that the judge was offering to take this break; he probably heard of how hard this case was for him to be taking on it alone in court. However- that wasn’t until an objection rang from the other side of the court. ‘ OBJECTION, the recess is not needed, Your Honor. Perhaps if Prosecutor Debeste was more well prepared he could clearly show us this piece of evidence. After all, it is everything in court. ‘ Speaking as a professional it seemed like the defense was taking no time at all to beat around the bush. However, hearing those words only made his heart sink deeper && deeper. Evidence was everything....but...why was it that he wasn’t finding anything now?! Sebastian felt the Judge’s eyes fall onto him, as if asking him where the evidence was. ‘ I...I...’ His voice choked, tears brimming at his tear ducts. He heard a small hum escape the Judge’s throat before the defense broke out into a chuckle. ‘ What an amateur, so you’re saying you can’t find the murder weapon at all, are you Prosecutor Debeste? ‘ As much as he hated to admit it....it wasn’t anywhere with him now; he could have sworn he brought it with him but....it was nowhere to be found. ‘ I....I...Y-Yes. ‘ as he spoke did the prosecutors voice crack even more, practically bending his baton enough to where it’d eaither snap in two or against his cheek if he caused any more harm to it. He had to stay professional...he had to stop crying. ‘ B...But please, Your Honor, give me another day--I’m sure I simply misplaced the evidence....! ‘ He was pleading now, becoming vulnerable as the defense began to laugh more && more. The tone of his voice practically reminded him of his father’s, picking away at him bit by bit until he fell completely apart. ‘ Oh, I’m sure another day will surely give you enough time to fabricate any evidence. ‘ Lips pursed, almost wanting to speak up at that statement-- he’d never...! But it was too late, seeing as the defense continued in his sharp tone. ‘ I ‘ve heard who you’re mentored under, Prosecutor Debeste. Miles Edgeworth, the Demon Prosecutor. ‘ his smile was malicious as ever now, throwing each blow he could get every time the other managed to speak up. ‘ H...he isn’t like that anymore...! ‘ That’s right, it was only for those few years that his mentor was referred to that title; since then had he even lost cases. ‘ Ah, but you’re also the son of that man who once was the Chief, hah! Even if Prosecutor Edgeworth is no longer a man who’d fabricate evidence to get a guilty verdict, I’ve heard stories about your father as well. ‘ There was nothing he could do to get the defense to stop it seemed. He was a far older man than his mentor--seeing that he even knew of his father && his previous actions in court before being removed from Chief. The tears kept pouring from his eyes--he was being torn apart limb by limb at this point, unable to make any objections of his own; If he did anyway...they’d just end up as pleads to the Judge. ‘ Mister Debeste, if you fail to present any further evidence related to this case then I’ll have to carry down my verdict, understood? ‘ ‘ Y....yes, your honor... ‘ the brunette felt his heart sink, his head spinning in despair- there was nothing he could do now...his tone had been reduced to nothing but a cracked whisper at this point. ‘ Ahem, yes. in that case I declare the defendant, Mister Asa Spades.... ‘ Here it comes...the moment he had been dreading ever since this trial was falling apart at the seams. There was nothing he could do now but hold onto a single shread of hope that maybe the kind detective would rush in with the evidence he was looking for, or any new information...Gumshoe had been assisting him from time to time under his mentor’s word, && he always seemed to pull through so...But as the silence hung dead in the air could he just feel his shoulders drop, head hanging in despair as he knew there was no way he could change the Judge’s mind as he slammed his gavel down to declare his verdict.

‘ Court is adjourned. ‘

That was it....that was his first case he had lost && the prosecution could do nothing but tremble, shaking dead in his spot behind his bench as everyone began filing out of the court room. However, he’d have to leave soon, so picking up his feet did he trudge on out, not bothering to give the attorney && his client one look as he exited the court room, face red && teary eyed. There was nothing he could say....nothing he could do. Thoughts spun all over inside his head, wondering if perhaps he had really misplaced the weapon...or maybe he’d have to look over the case as a whole again. None the less-he was completely at a loss on how to break the news to everyone....he dreaded the report he’d give to Mister Edgeworth, telling him that the trial he prosecuted on his own was completely unsuccessful.

#drabble.#so i wanted to write about seb loosing his first case &&#while i had trouble thinking up scenarios i think this came out good in the end

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[FN] Rising Shadow - A SpellForce Short Story

For a move visually pleasing version, visit: https://www.deviantart.com/wormic/art/Rising-Shadow-A-SpellForce-Short-Story-793074356

“Under no circumstances!” Craig Un'Shallach shouted, stretched out his arm and pointed toward the obsidian-steel gate leading across the dark-grey bridge mounting the surrounding swamps.

“By Nor, you will regret this! You and your treacherous heritage! You cannot stop Sorvina and her shadows, sooner or later, Dragh’Lur will perish by their blades!” – As he said that, the messenger turned away and pulled a dark hood over his head.

While the gates closed behind him, the masses dispersed from the main square atop the sinister bulwark. The ones who remained were Craig, his advisor, Lachar, and his daughter, Nightsong. Their conversation continued hastily: “What are we to do? We cannot ignore them any longer?” – Lachar argued.

“I am well aware, but we are still too weak to hunt them down” – Craig explained – “Our brothers from Shal Dun will not support us in this battle, and Nazshar’s recent uprising crippled our ranks. May Nor damn him at the River of Souls… We need more time…”

“If Dragh’Lur falls, so does Shal, and then it's only a matter of time… The Shadows will cover all and none will be able to stop them. The orcs are scattered, the trolls dull and the light worshipers… they are a joke not even worth my tongue.”

“Do not underestimate the fighting spirit of the light worshipers, Lachar.” Craig replied and added “Although they are out brethren, we can fight Sorvina and her supporters, but it will be hard to deal with the Shadows themselves…” He started thinking out loud “I once knew someone who had it in her possession…”

Nightsong barged into the conversation “The Phoenix Bearer?”

“Yes, and her Shadow Ring, but out paths split after our last meeting in Empyria, I am unaware of her whereabouts… or whether or not she is still alive.”

“Should we search for her? I am ready to depa…” Nightsong got quickly interrupted by her father. “No, we need you here, I will send a search party for her, the three of us have to prepare for the inevitable. Lachar!”

“Yes, Dracon?”

“Send out a search party, and call for our generals, we have to prepare Dragh'Lur for what's to come, post-haste.

Lachar nodded his head in agreement and rushed through the portal to Shal to assemble the Norcaine forces. Craig and Nightsong were left standing atop the impregnable fortress, each engulfed in their own thoughts.

Silence permeated the thick fog.

Dragh’Lur was widely famous - or infamous, depending on who was asked - for its ability to repel all and any attackers headed its way. What the Bulwark was for the Clan, Dragh Lur was for the Norcaine, although arguably even more malevolent. Rumours have it that the fortress was built not only on-top of the corpses of their enemies, but also some of their own kin. Many would argue that the cruelty of the dark elves far outmatched the other races, but no outsider knows with certainty what is happening behind their metal towers and walls – no outsider dares to investigate further.

Of course, not all the Norcaine fell under such suspicions, Craig and his daughter, Nightsong, were among those, choosing to embrace the other races on Eo, rather than eschew them. In a secluded society such as their own, this wasn’t something their brethren were particularly fond of, but many have learned to respect – and in some instances, fear – the name Craig Un’Shallach. After all, he showed that he possessed to courage to go as far as to confront a mage of the Circle, not once, but twice – a feat no Norcaine on record could boast with.

Moreover, his past influenced his present, or rather, his daughters. The women of the Norcaine were a mystery in and of itself. Not even tasked with simple manual labour – the dark elves use Skergs for that – they were essentially relegated to a life of serving as tools for the Norcaine to propagate. A shame as well, as Dark Elven women were much stronger than their male counterparts, perhaps not in terms of sheer physical strength, but they all had innate talent for the dark arts – Black Magic. Thus, they were forbidden by their own people to practice such crafts – perhaps out of fear.

Notwithstanding such rules, there were Norcaine in the past who recognised this power and wished to expand on it, rather than keep it locked in secret. Nazshar was one of them. Having realised the potential in his wife, Sorvina, he strived to use that power, harness it and dominate over their race. And he would have succeeded were it not for Craig who, during a civil war, decisively put an end to his schemes. But the kill that ended one might be about to start another. After her husband was killed and she got captured, Sorvina was given a choice – the sword or the poison? – she chose the poison and prolonged her life, although only possible through her immense will and accompanied by great suffering.

Her burning rage refuses to let her die.

Ever since then, she seeks revenge for what they had done to her – for what they had done to her husband. And this hatred had also driven her to engage in a pact with the Shadows – dark beings from a foreign dimension – enemies of all life. She forced the shadows to submit to her terms by acquiring the Black Mirror and is now using it to manipulate their actions as she sees fit.

A part of the Norcaine had already been influenced by the Shadows, turning their hair white and eyes pale. Not even Nightsong was spared of their horror, however, she managed put a halt to the transformation before it reached its end. Now, Sorvina and her Pact march towards Dragh’Lur, poised to claim back what she believes was wrongfully taken from her. Behind her, the forces of the Norcaine and in their shadow – death.

Turmoil was slowly rising.

A few days had passed since the meeting atop Dragh’Lur. An ever-persisting fog was still encompassing the surrounding lands, the tension began to fester.

Craig and Nightsong spent their days training, sparing – but also talking. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hide the gloomy and worried look written all over her face. It was very unlike her. Ever since she was a child, her father raised her to stand up for herself, to not submit to the regulations of their people just because she is a woman – a connection to Sorvina she hated to have, but a similarity, nonetheless.

She was still young, but no stranger to distant travels and battles. And even though she may look elegant, she was able to give most Norcaine men a good run for their money when it came to duels – a fact she had proven many times in the past. And yet, something about the upcoming battled was inexplicably intimidating to her. She wasn’t afraid of the fight, or afraid to give her life for the well being of her people, but she couldn’t shake this eerie feeling surrounding her on her every move. She took out a small notebook and started writing in it, making sure none of her brethren standing close to her were able to decipher what.

As she remained immersed in her writing, a white light shone behind her, revealing Lachar walking through it as it started to diminish. He paid little attention to her, scurrying past and heading straight to Craig. Nightsong was able to feel that something was off. As she approached the pair, now already well deep into their conversation, she stopped. Something told her that she should interrupt, but her curiosity got the better of her, and while pretending to be occupied with other tasks, she eavesdropped on them.

“So, the Archons refuse to lend their aid?” were the first words she heard, spoken by her father.

Her eyes widened and she clenched her fists.

Among the Norcaine, it was known that Archons and Dracon don’t share the best relations, even going so far as to spark minor conflicts in the past on account of that, but never could she have imagined them sitting idle in a situation like this. Could Sorvina have been behind this? Could she have already corrupted some of their leaders to aid her in her mission of vengeance? There was no way to be certain, but it seemed plausible to her, even to the point of heading to Shal herself to confront them. But despite the urge to openly show her frustration, she remained level-headed and continued to listen in.

“What happens now?” Lachar asked, exhibiting a slight tension in his voice.

Craig remained surprisingly calm, as if he had expected such a situation to occur.

“Now, we get ready for war!” He announced loud enough for the majority of the troops surrounding the upper echelons to hear it loud and clear. His voice rang out with spirit and courage, prompting everyone to take notice of what was about to be said.

As soon as he had the attention of his troops, he started giving out precise and rigorous orders; “Man the walls! Position the Blade Dancers in-front of the main gate!” – the sound of his voice was the sole one filling the air, everyone was following them without question.

As the preparations were nearing their end, Nightsong decided to walk up to him.

His thoughts were poised on the battle that he felt was about to commence. His gaze was directed onto the shadow rising from the swamps. Nightsong turned and tried making something out in the distance, but her eyes were met by a thick wall of impenetrable gloom. “This won’t be an easy fight.” Nightsong proclaimed and continued. “I’ve heard what Lachar told you about the Archons… weaklings, all of them. May Nor’s wrath fall upon them and d…” Her apparent monologue got interrupted by Craig’s hand being placed on her shoulder.

“It won’t be easy.” He confirmed her earlier statement and took a few deep breaths.

“Nightsong, you have to escape.”

As soon as she heard those words she twitched, pushed his hand away from his shoulder and turned her whole body towards him. “What?! Out of the question!” Her face started filling with anger towards her father for demanding such actions.

As she continued assaulting him with words, he answered by raising his voice enough to let her know he’s serious, but not to alarm any others.

“Daughter, let me explain first before throwing such tantrums.” He let out a deep sign and continued. “This is a fight we cannot win alone. The shadows have already infiltrated the lower levels of Dragh’Lur… it’s only a time until they reach us.”

She couldn’t believe what he was saying, her face took on a petrified look and cold sweat started running down her back. She continued listening.

“The rest of the men and I are going to buy you time. You must sneak out of the fortress during the commotion and reach the portal to the Iron Fields. Seek the help of the Shaikan there and reach King Ulf in Sevenkeeps. The might of the Norcaine alone won’t be enough to drive away the Shadows.”

She couldn’t utter a word, but so many questions were racing through her mind. King Ulf? Seek help from Light worshipers? How could they achieve what the Norcaine failed to?

Craig was quick to notice the unrest of her expression and went ahead to reassure her.

“Do not worry, have faith in me and in Nor. The fighters of the Light are fiercer and bolder than the Norcaine give them credit for.” As he father’s words were clearing away her doubts, she was finally able to break out of her trance and ask a question.

“How will they trust me, a dark elf? If the shadows don’t cut me down before I reach the portal, the Light worshipers surely will!”

Craig reached around his neck and took off the silver necklace in the shape of a silver spider –a Symbol of their god Nor. He held it in front of Nightsong as she looked at it with great curiosity.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked her.

“The sigil of the Norcane, of course. But why are you showing me this?”

“This sigil has been passed down from Dracon to Dracon and serves to distinguish the rightful leaders of the Norcaine. When the time comes, I will give it to you. It should suffice as proof for your word.”

She continued to admire the shaped piece of silver until Craig secured it back on himself. “It’s night time, they will be here shortly. We have to get ready.”

Nightsong nodded and rushed to grab her gear. At the same time, Lachar joined Craig, both staring into the distance as the fog began to disperse.

“So, this is the end.” Lachar proclaimed, albeit a bit hesitantly.

Craig simply shook his head and corrected him. “No, this is only the beginning.”

As the fog became thinner and thinner, flames, began risin on the horizon. Lachar rushed to the main gates to support their defence there while Craig remained waiting, expecting Nightsong to return at any moment.

As the flames were moving closer and closer, the warriors of the Norcaine steadfastly stood their ground. However, as the fog disappeared completely, and the enemy troops came within reach, they were shocked by image they saw. The first rows of Sorvina’s forces weren’t dark elven warriors, there were women – molded by Sorvina into powerful sorceresses. The sight of this alone left most petrified. “Women in our ranks?” were just some of the words they began to murmur into their chins.

Through their history, women had never joined their armies in their conquest – not until Sorvina managed to accomplish that goal. Nightsong returned to her fathers side a few moments earlier and remained envious upon witnessing this sight. Sorvina managed to do what she tried achieving her whole life. But it wasn’t the time to let her emotions take over – it had begun.

The enemy forces stopped right in front of their walls and without any warning, they started crashing into them. Within moments the gates had been broken down and the slaughter began.

As their forces started storming the lower levels of Dragh’Lur, the shadows started coming out of their hiding places in the deep cracks inside the barriers. They ambushed the resisting dark elves, stabbing them in the back with their cold blades, running through them and crushing their ranks. I wasn’t long until they started creeping up towards the top, together with the rest of Sorvina’s troops. At the uppermost lever, Craig and Nightsong, together with their bodyguard, were already engaged in battle with stragglers that managed to break through their defences. The sound of clashing blades was filling the air. The ground underneath them started filling with blood, but they managed to resist the first waves.

In a short moment of peace, Craig turned to his daughter and, without saying a word, pushed his sigil in her hand. As she took it, he turned again and rushed to the edge of a platform, jumping down to support his troops and Lachar still fighting underneath them. She knew what she had to do. As soon as she threw one last look at the burning and death-soaked battlefield, she ran. She ran through a hidden path down the side of the fort and found herself surrounded by tall stone walls. Now, there was no going back.

As she continued dashing through the narrow corridors of the nearby hills, a loud scream pierced his ears – she knew what it meant. Slowing down once again rethink her father’s decision to send her away, she heard a loud screech penetrating the air above her, prompting her to lose her balance and trip on nearby tree-roots emerging out of the ground. As she found herself back on her feet, she noticed a bag with her personal belonging had fallen off of her, but she had no time to go back and retrieve it.

“I have to keep moving…” she told herself and continued trailing the path leading to the Iron Fields.

As the group of Sorvina’s mercenaries reached the place where she had tripped earlier, the were quick to notice the bag on the ground, but instead of picking it up, they merely trampled it under their feet, damaging and revealing its contents.

Among them was the book she had written in earlier that day – now almost completely ruined, laying open on a single page still legible, which read: “We were warriors. We were fighting for our freedom and the dignity of our people. We have lost… I am Nightsong. I will tell you about the last days of our greatest warrior. Craig Un’Shallach – my father…”

THE END

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sweetchup · 4 years

Text

Peppermint Twist

Type: Feitan x reader

Prompt: O’Inari’s Wisdom — On any day during this week, people of the ages of 19-30 years old will go through a walk in the woods carrying a clear ornament (Traditionally it used to be a Jar). The ornament is usually filled with the person’s favorite scent or perfume, Name and Phone number on paper slip, and their dream type of lover on a rose petal. When walking through the woods, the person allows the God/Goddess of the woods O’inari’s Imps to trick them into meeting their soulmate. It is a must to switch ornaments with that first person they see for it is said the imps won’t allow them to leave the forest unless they do so.

Author Note: I hope you guys like this one. I’m very proud of it and I think I’m getting better at my romance scenes :)).

(Prompts/Rules) (Holiday Masterlist)

You had no sense of time as you walked further and further along the frozen dirt road. Everything was just very repetitive with never ending rows upon rows of snow covered trees that surrounded you. With each continuous motion and action, you grew more and more tired. Something quite unusual for you, Though there was a simple answer on why.

You were bored. Extremely bored.

The only thing that seemed to give you some sort of entertainment out here was when you would occasionally come across a rock and you could kick it along as you walked to see how far you could keep it going. Occasionally, you would spice things up a little by passing it between you and your teammate Phinks who walked alongside you. Though that never lasted long because of course Feitan, being the spoilsport he is, would turn around to glare at you two making Phinks stop and ruin your fun.

Feitan Porter. Ever since you joined the troupe, you never understood the guy. You tried greeting him the first time you two met but he just scoffed and blew you off. You could normally deal with a cold shoulder from him, even on a dangerous mission. But you never, never, understood why he would get so mad at you for the randomest of things.

Playing a video game with Shal, Feitan will give you a scoff and a glare. A drinking contest with Uvogin and Nobunaga, a death threat and breaking all the alcohol bottles. You were almost positive that one time when you were talking too long to the boss that he “accidentally” threw a knife at your head. A knife! At your very own teammate that is!!

“Hey,” Machi says, cutting through the silence, “How about we stop at that place for the night?”

Following where she was pointing to, you are surprised to see an old hot spring hotel. How weird, what was this doing in a place like this?

“But it’s not even dark yet.” Shizuku questions, confused as she looks to the still blue sky.

“Well that’s because a snowstorm is coming so we can’t camp outside tonight.” Franklin explains as he follows Machi up the stone path to the hotel.

“Oh, now I get it.” Shizuku answers before suggesting, “(Y/n), Machi, We should get a bath in after we check in.”

“Sure. Sounds good to me.” You answer, quickly catching up to Shizuku. A few almost breathless whispers could be heard behind you making you let out a deep sigh, “Shalnark. Phinks.”

The two freeze as they hear you call their names. Craning your head to look at the two, you give them a nasty glare. As well as slightly releasing your bloodlust as you venomously spit out a warning to the two. “If you two even think of peeping on us, not only will I carve out your eyeballs but I will make you wish you were never born.”

Phinks pales and quickly nods his head in understanding while Shalnark lets out a nervous laugh. Those two knew not to mess with you when you were angry. Especially from previous experiences.

“Good. I’m glad you two understand.”

—.—.—.—.—

“Ah~~ That was nice.” You say out loud to the two other girls as you walk back from the bathhouse. You truly felt fully refreshed from the herbal bath you were just in. Man, did hot springs work wonders.

“Yeah it also helped that you stopped the boys from peeping in on—“

“Hello ladies.” You three turn to look at the elderly lady wearing a kimono that had cut off your conversation. As she walks up closer to you three, you recognize her as the owner of the inn. “I hope you three are having a nice stay. I wanted to give you ladies these.”

You watch as the elderly lady pulls out three glass ornaments from her pocket. As you grab one, it strikes you what day it is. You can’t believe you forgot it was the first day of O’inari’s Wisdom.

“Ah, I can’t believe I forgot it was the holiday season.”

The elder lady chuckles at you as you look at the items given in the ornaments, “I hope you three take place in the tradition tonight. It’s good luck to do it before a snowstorm after all—“

“No need.” Jumping at the new heard voice, you turn around to see it was just Feitan. As he walks over, he forcibly takes the ornaments from you, “Not interested.”

“Hey Fei! There's no need for that!” You shout at him angrily as he chucks the ornament at the lady’s feet. A loud shatter is heard as it breaks all over the floor as well as some of it likely sticking into the elderly lady’s skin. Quickly, you get on your knees to pick up the glass. Hearing Feitan scoff as you do so, “I’m so sorry Miss. I’ll—“

The Elderly Lady cuts you off by placing her hand on your shoulder and giving you a warm smile. “It’s okay dear. I was being too forward anyways.”

As she says this, she sneakily places another ornament into the pocket of your robe; giving you a small wink as she does so. With a bow towards you and the rest she takes her leave.

Angrily, you stand up and whip around to give Feitan a piece of your mind. However, you only see that he was already long gone.

“Bastard…” You mutter under your breath, storming back to your room.

You were officially done with having to deal with Feitan Porter. Especially with his bipolar attitude towards you. You kept on wishing that he could, at the very least, make up his mind if he wants to ignore you or not. However you were now over with his antics. Clutching the ornament in your pocket a plan forms in your head. Feitan wasn’t the boss of you and you were going to prove that to him. First being by ignoring his orders and doing this tradition.

The loud slam of your door closing resounds throughout the whole inn as Machi and Shizuku continue to stand there. Letting out a sigh Machi finally starts to make her way back to her room.

“Machi, Why does Feitan do that to (y/n)?” Shizuku questions confused, following after her.

“Well, according to the boss and Phinks, it’s because he has a crush on her.” Machi explains. However, all she can think of is how stupid Feitan is being. (Y/n) has said, when drunk, that she does find Feitan attractive so he does have a chance of dating her. But all he keeps on doing is pushing her further and further away.

“I get that but don’t you think that was a bit much. Throwing the ornament at the woman’s feet.”

“I guess so…” Machi runs her hand through her hair as she gives one last goodbye to Shizuku before entering her room. Once in her room, she ponders for a moment. She didn’t think Feitan was going too far in that aspect. Afterall, She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly but something felt off about that elderly lady. It could be one of her hunches but she didn’t know if it was reliable enough or not right. Deciding to leave it alone for now, she goes to bed.

Afterall, everyone is safe for now so she can always deal with the hunch in the morning if she has to.

—.—.—.—.—

Lifting the lantern up further forward, you attempt to see what was up ahead through the forest. Honestly even though you haven’t seen or met your possible “Soulmate” like in the old tales, it was just an amazing time to be out by yourself like this. It was always a rare thing to get time to yourself, especially after joining the troupe. Though that was mostly because even after missions Feitan wouldn’t leave you alo—

A crunching noise is suddenly heard behind you. Whirling around you, you listen silently. You couldn’t see anything nor sense any aura right now but you definitely know you weren’t imagining that you heard something.

“I got you now!” At the sound of the voice, you quickly move away from the attack and hit behind you with your lantern. A sickening crack is heard as the lantern breaks against the person who attacked you. Moving away and turning around, you see oil that has leaked from the lateen has fallen onto the person and immediately caused them to catch on fire.

Walking up slowly to the burning body, you realize that it wasn’t a person at all instead it was a creature. A creature anyone could easily identify. Afterall, the ash gray skin with a sunken face and body was a dead give away.

“God damn blood sucking ghouls.” You curse under your breath as you throw the now useless lantern to the side.

Quickly, at the sound of more crunching of snow you get into a readied stance. Ghouls are known to work in packs or groups so more should be approaching nearby. Simply, you were in for a long night.

—.—.—.—.—

The knocking at her door immediately wakes Machi up. As she gets up, she immediately checks the time. It was only 2 in the morning. What was going on? She thought everyone was going to leave at 5.

As she leaves her bed, she hears the knocking only getting louder, almost to the point the person behind it was practically banging down the door.

“Coming! Give me a second!” Machi yells as she runs to the door. As she opens it she sees a bloody Shalnark at the door, “What the hell happened to you?! Where are the others?”

Quickly, she lets him in and attempts to bandage up the bloody wound on his arm. As Machi bandages it up she notices it wasn’t any sort of wound caused by battle but an unusual bite wound. As she goes to ask what happens, Shalnark was already ahead of her and begins to explain, “Turns out that the old lady running this inn was actually a ghoul in disguise. Her and her buddies use this hotel to attract customers to be easily attacked and eaten.”

“Shit,” Machi murmurs under her breath as she finishes up tying the bandage, “Where are the others? Do they know what’s going on?”

“They sho—“ Suddenly, the opening of Machi’s room door cuts the two off. Machi quickly gets in a fighting stance but, thankfully, all that walked in was Feitan.

“You idiot. Knock next time, I was ready to cut your head off.” Machi scolds as Feitan looks around the room. Though when he walks out from checking the bathroom, both Shalnark and Machi finally notice the worried look on his face.

“Fei. What’s— Hey wait!” Shalnark shouts, watching Feitan run off. Standing up, Shalnark and Machi go to the door. “What was that—?”

“Machi! Shalnark!” Turning their heads the other way, they see Shizuku and Franklin running down the hall.

“What is going on with Feitan?” Shalnark cuts in quickly as the two approach.

“It’s because we can’t find (y/n) anywhere. She’s not in her room nor anywhere else.” Franklin explains as Shizuku begins to look around. “Did you guys see her last night? Or hear anything?”

“No, the last I saw her was after taking our baths.”

“I haven’t seen her since we’ve checked in.”

Franklin lets out a grumble as he hears another door get broken down by Feitan, “Well I need one of you two to calm down Feitan while we try to look for her. She couldn’t have go—“

“Guys I found something!” Phinks yells out from somewhere in the hotel. As he does so, Shalnark is almost knocked to the ground by Feitan running past him to where Phinks was located.

“Calm the fuck down Feitan!” Shalnark shouts out as Machi catches him from falling. Clutching his injured arm as he runs after the man, the others close behind as well.

As they approach to where Phinks was, they see him outside, yelling off into the dark woods with Feitan nowhere in sight. Turning around at the opening of the door, Phinks angrily says, “I found (y/n) footprints but once I tried to explain the bastard ran off on me!”

“Well we sho—“ Shizuku grows silent at the loud noise of a growl. Conjuring up her vacuum, she gets ready to fight, “Actually, it seems we have some company.”

“Yeah.” Franklin agrees as the others grow tense at the growling getting louder, “Feitan will be fine on his own. We need to first deal with the ghouls still in the hotel.”

—.—.—.—.—

You shakily inhale and exhale as you focus on your breathing. The fast falling of snow flurries melting on your warm face. Shit, you didn’t expect a sudden drop off the hill like that.

You attempt to move your feet but it only causes you to groan in pain. Not good, you bet you broke at least one of your ankles from that fall. Not counting the injuries in other areas you probably sustained.

Rolling off of your side, you drag yourself through the snow to the wall of the hill you fell off of. You could hardly move right now, so you don’t know how you would fight or defend in a situation like this. Your only possible choice was to hide and wait. At least until the sun rose.

Carefully, as to not injure yourself further, you shimmy and lay your body underneath the thick bushes that covered the edge of the wall. Once settled in, you feel a harsh gush of wind hit against you. The wind was so cold, so frigid, that you have to close your eyes because it practically burned to keep them open.

As you continue to squeeze your eyes shut as you lay there, the wind only grows more and more stronger. Almost as if it was attempting to pull or drag you somewhere.

“(Y/n)”

Your eyes shoot open at the call of your name. Though as you open them, you don’t see anything in the pitch black forest around you. Was it just the howling of the wind deceiving you?

“(Y/n)!”

There it was again, it can’t possibly be the wind. The voice sounds familiar as well. Who was that calling for you?

“(Y/n)!!”

Now closer, you recognized who the voice was. The feeling of hot bubbling tears roll down your cheeks as you attempt to answer back.

“F-Fei” The first time hardly comes out as a whisper and you have to call out again, “Fei!!”

The wind pricking at your skin slowly dies down as you hear the loud sound of snowy footsteps running up to the bush you were hiding in. At first, you were worried that maybe you had attracted a ghoul to your location instead of Feitan but once the feeling of a warm collapsed hand touches your cheek, that worry goes away.

“Fei.. Eep!” You can’t help but let out a whine as Feitan harshly pulls out of the bush by your collar. The pain from all your injuries shooting up and down your whole body. “Ow! Ow! Be gentl—“

Without a single warning nor care, Feitan harshly grabs the back of your head and kisses you. He kissed you so harshly it was as if he was telling you how much he hated you. As if he loathed every single part of you. Rough with a harsh grip on your hair. Painful with a harsh bite at your lips. The bite was hard enough to cause you both to taste the harsh taste of iron, of blood, hitting your tongues.

As Feitan slowly pulled away from the kiss, you were sure, even with it being a kiss, Feitan Porter was telling you he hated you.

You weren’t surprised, you think to yourself as you close your eyes. Feitan had proved to you many ways before that he hated you. Honestly, he probably thought it was so annoying to have to come find you out here.

A wetness suddenly hits your cheek. At first you think it was snow just melting. But, then you realize it wasn’t cold like snow. No, it was warm.

Then, another one hits you again causing you to finally open your eyes.

“Fei?” You question, shakily lifting your hand up to the man’s cheek. Calmly, even though you are quite confused, you wipe the tears from his face.

“Idiot.” He curses out almost silently as he glares down at you, “What were you thinking?”

“I-I-“

You want to tell him why you did this. How annoyed you are with him with his constant bipolar attitude towards you. How you hate how he bosses you around. How much you hate him—

You feel yourself pause at that thought. The thought that made your heart ache. Was that correct? Did you really hate Feitan Porter?

“You weren’t!” Feitan shouts out snapping you out of your thoughts, “Did you leave for this?!”

You feel Feitan harshly grab something from your pocket and shove it into your face. It was the ornament you had made.

“You just had to go off in the forest for some stupid ass male that doesn’t know two shits about you?! Just because you want to go live happily ever after!”

You grit your teeth as you push the ornament out of your face.

“Is it wrong to want to meet your true love, Feitan? Someone to stick by my side, someone to care about me, someone who—“

“I LOVE YOU, (Y/N). ISN’T THAT ENOUGH?!” Feitan screams at you, breaking the ornament with his bare hand. Even with the feeling of glass and blood hitting your face, you don’t flinch nor attempt to move. Neither does Feitan as he just continues to look down at you. An unreadable expression on his face.

“I-I… You...” You attempt to speak. Possibly to answer Feitan, give him some sort of reassurance but the words die in your throat. You just didn’t know what to say.

You think for a little bit longer before you chose what to say, “Feitan you’ve always been enough. But…

You can’t stop yourself from shivering in the cold. You’ve been out here for way too long.

“B-but… I’ve never known how you felt. You might have thought I did but I never. I’ve always thought you’ve sort of.... hated me.”

It’s silent once again, yet this time you can’t bring yourself to look at Feitan’s face. You think for a moment maybe you should try to suggest to just head back. But, before you do that, you already feel Feitan standing up as he holds you firm in his arms.

You believed that you two were heading back to the hotel but Feitan doesn’t make an attempt to move or even make his way back to the hotel. You finally turn back to look at Feitan and, for the second time that night, Feitan captures his lips in yours.

This time the kiss wasn’t harsh, not even the slightest bit. His lips moved softly against yours, moving carefully and slowly to perfectly model against your lips. Feitan places a hand in your hair but it wasn’t like before, no not at all. His calloused hand caressed softly through your hair, almost soothing and petting you in a way.

So soothing in fact, that you didn’t even realize you had draped your arms over his shoulder and were kissing Feitan back.

As he pulls away, he can’t help but go in to peck your lips once more, and then another, before finally pulling away.

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, as if he was taking in how looked right now, before saying, “I’ll prove to you me loves you and then…

Feitan slowly leans into your ear, his harsh voice against it causing goosebumps to pop up in that area,

“...I’ll steal your heart. So, that you can never love anyone else other than me….”

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #feitan #feitan portor

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